#you’re the new piece here babe not me

[tacosaysroar]

Oh my god, I miss my old work partner

[stemroses]

When you update a bookmark on ao3 i really fucking hope the writer doesn’t get a notification.

[loveluvrs]

the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

[fastandcarlos]

Cuddles Are Home : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as max arrives home after a busy day, he's keen to try something new, however it doesn't quite work out as well as he imagined

No words needed to be spoken as Max walked into your hotel room. His muscles were aching, his eyes drooping as a result of yet another long day of practice. Race day was only a day away and he was pushing himself to the limit. You barely glanced at him as he walked in, knowing he had his own routine that he loved. Whilst Max sorted himself, you laid out across the sofa and scrolled through your phone, catching up with the events of the day that you had missed whilst down at the paddock supporting Max.

As soon as you heard his footsteps come back through the room you stood up from the sofa and went into the small kitchen that was attached. Meanwhile, Max walked into the living room and threw himself down on the sofa. He stretched his limbs out as much as he could, with his tall frame it didn’t take much for him to take up most of the room. After a few minutes you returned, placing the hot cup of tea that you had made for Max on the coffee table, you looked in confusion to try and find some space. Max could feel you staring, smiling softly at the expression on your face. He didn’t say a word, he simply tapped against his muscular chest, only to make you scoff, shaking your head as you quickly refused to accept Max’s offer.

“Just lay here, I’ll be alright.”

“You’re sore from a day of racing, the last thing you need is me on top of you,” you tried to argue, but Max was having none of it.

“I wouldn’t offer if it was a problem,” Max assured you, lazily reaching out and taking a hold of your hand. You took a step forward before he used his extra weight to pull you down on top of him. Your head rested at the top of his chest, just underneath his neck, bodies pressed together as you managed to rest your legs between Max’s. His arm wrapped around you, making sure that you were safe in position, squeezing you nice and tight to make the most of the close proximity between you both.

“I can’t believe you’ve got me laying here,” you chuckled as you felt several kisses being pressed against the top of your head, “we’ve become one of those couples.”

“It’s your fault,” he innocently teased, “you’ve turned me into one of those boyfriends I never thought I’d be.”

“Hey,” you giggled, slapping your hand gently against Max’s bare chest. You knew deep down it was true what Max was saying, he had been quite standoffish when you first started dating, but over time you had found a new, softer, side to Max that left him being known more for how affectionate he was towards you rather than the world champion he was.

And you would never have had him any other way.

“I hate that I love what you’ve done to me.”

There he went again, jokingly blaming you as if he wasn’t hopelessly in love with you and thankful for you every single day.

“You’re comfortable, right? We can shuffle around if you’re not babe.”

“I’m alright,” you assured Max, shuffling closer into his side as his grip around you tightened. “I wonder if the Max I knew when we first started dating ever imagined himself cuddling on the sofa like this.”

It was the kind of wholesome moment that Max always refused to be a part of, but now he craved. He laid for some time and told you about his day, filled you in on all the details that you missed from the practice from where you were stood in the paddock, making sure to share every last detail with you.

And as he did so, you listened intently too. You were so close to his heart you could feel it quicken as he spoke about those adrenaline inducing moments, or calming again when he told you how relieved he was to return the car to the garage in one piece.

Once he’d finished speaking, you tilted your head back and looked up at Max. “I could imagine us laying here forever you know.”

He hummed in agreement, “I love being able to hold you this close to me.”

You chose not to respond as you heard how sleepy Max was, silently encouraging him to try and get a bit of rest.

It didn’t take long before you heard Max’s light snores about you letting you know that he was resting, despite your apprehension, laying on his chest had ended up being surprisingly comfortable. You weren’t sure how long you ended up laying there as you soon found yourself beginning to get sleepy on top of Max. You weren’t sure whether it was his touch, or the comfort of knowing that he was right there beside you, but something caused your body to switch. Max was out like a light, and soon enough you joined him, still squeezed on the sofa with your holds as tight as ever, making sure that nothing bad happened to the other person.

“Ouch! Oh my goodness!”

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

A loud groan came from you as you felt the edge of the coffee table hit against your back before landing on the floor with a thud. Your hands rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you tried to figure how in a matter of moments you had gone from comfortably laying on top of Max to find yourself laid out on the living room floor, pain shooting through you.

Max jolted upright as soon as he heard your voice, cringing as he looked down at you on the floor. Your expression told him everything, pressing your hand into the small of your back where the pain was at its worst.

“Love, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Tell me where it hurts…please,” Max whispered, pushing himself off of the sofa and joining you on the floor, pulling you into his side.

“Damn,” you sighed, biting down on the inside of your lip, struggling to come to terms with what had happened. It didn’t take long for Max to place his hand where your pain was coming from in an attempt to ease it for you.

“Do you need to get checked out? Does it hurt anywhere else?” Max questioned, the panic strong in his voice as his eyes darted to check you properly.

Your head shook, letting Max take a moment to check for himself that you really were alright, covering every last bit of your body.

“Just my pride, it’s taken a bit of a dent,” you tried to joke, bringing the faintest of smiles to Max’s face. “I think my head brushed against the side of the table, but somehow I just about managed to miss it.”

Max doesn’t look as certain as you though.

“Come on, I think a proper bed might help me to feel better.”

Max is still doubtful as you rise to your feet, refusing to let you do anything alone. He could tell from the feeling in his arms that he must’ve gotten tired, ultimately letting go which led to you rolling off of him and ending up in a bundle on the floor.

“Do you think you might be concussed or something?”

“Max, love, I promise that my head didn’t hit anything, I’ll be alright.”

He wants to nod and assure that you he understands, but he knows exactly what you’re like. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve pretended in front of him to stop him from worrying, not wanting thoughts of you to cloud him when he has so many other things to think about, especially when it came to his career.

Max is with you every step of the way as you walk into the bedroom of your hotel, encouraging you to move as slowly as possible. Only when you’re laid out does he finally begin to relax a little.

As soon as he’s there beside you, you’re rolling across and tucking yourself back into him again. First your leg drapes over him, then your arm, and soon enough you’re pushing your entire frame on top of him.

“Do you really want to do this?” Max questioned, reluctantly placing his arms around you, his voice shaky and filled with concern.

“I think I might be a little bit safer laying in a big double bed rather than the sofa,” you assured Max, keeping your grip on him nice and tight so that he had no choice but to let you stay there.

Max wanted to protest, but there was no way he could argue with his injured girl. “Why do you like this so much.”

The answer was easy for you, it was the one thing that you loved more than anything.

You loved the warmth that it brought you, the comfort, and the way it made your heart race. Above all else, you loved how it always made you fall a little bit more in love with Max every single time.

“Your cuddles always feel like home.”

“Really?” Max asked in surprise, never quite imaging you to feel that way. “If that’s the case, I guess I better let you lay here on my chest for the night, right?”

“I won’t be arguing if you do,” you chuckled, finally feeling Max relax underneath you after your little incident.

Max is still a little wary, he can’t help but fret about you. But having you right there where he can keep an eye on you is the best he can ask for. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss against the very top of your head.

“I love you too,” you responded, stretching to be able to capture Max’s jawline with your lips, knowing how much of a sweet spot that sharp line was for him. His strong arms held onto you a little tighter in response, making your heart swell as you both close your eyes again, hoping that next time around you’re still laying there engulfed in each other’s arms again.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[luveline]

Idk if you've ever written it, but like, hotch having to save bau!r after she's been kidnapped and tourtered and shit and when hotch finds them, babes is BLEEDING and shit and like barely coherent but spewing the absolute most random bullshit to hotch bc their panicking and whatnot?

thank you for requesting 💌 fem, 1.2k

Hotch has felt sick for three days. 

He stands with his ear pressed to his shoulder, as though holding the ear piece further in will bring news of you quicker. His hands are up and ready, torch and firearm held aloft, wrists crossed. 

Morgan has to go in first. Morgan, because if you’re dead, Hotch will take actions that will disbar him from being Unit Chief. He can’t keep his head, not if you’re gone. His anger will swallow him whole, and he will do things that can’t be forgiven. 

His stomach churns, waiting, waiting, waiting. The sky is dark as pitch and the house they surround doesn’t stir for a time. 

Then, low and long, carrying heavy through the air like a sledgehammer to his chest, is the reed of your screaming. It’s a strangled sound, sobbing to begin with, begging as it ends. Hotch hears your, “No, no, please! Please! Please.” Your third please fractures into a writhing scream as the pain begins again. 

Hotch’s arms twitch, threatening to fall to his sides. You’re alive, but… 

“Okay, we’re going in,” Morgan says through the ear piece, clearly having heard the same agony as Hotch. “Right now. Team two with Hotch. Everyone ready?” 

You must have screamed so loudly for it to get through walls. That’s all Hotch can think as he follows behind the second team, the sounds of cracking wood and tight footsteps ahead.

He’s not in the room, but he’s down the hall, he can hear the fuss as he hurries forward. “Drop the weapon!” Morgan shouts, evidence of his own anger in the sheer booming volume of his voice. “Drop the weapon now! Drop it!” 

A sharper crack as a bullet hits something and a thud. Hotch forces himself into the room just in time to see a large, short-haired figure fall to the floor. 

You’re covered in red and purple and brown, blood in long lines and gushing from deep wounds, a mess of it. He doesn’t even know where to start, your gutted, exhausted sobbing like a knife in his stomach, your limp hands hanging either side of the strange chair you’ve been strapped to. “Morgan,” you say, audibly relieved and yet your pain obvious and electric as you gasp for air, “Morgan, you have to get me out.” 

“I’ve got you,” Hotch says, holstering his gun in one breath and by your side the next.

A SWAT agent begins to saw through your binds with a serrated knife. Hotch’s hands stutter on the metal ends of the chair, wanting to touch you but terrified he’ll put a hand in a wound he hasn’t noticed. 

“Hotch,” you say, and your relief is worse now. Like you aren’t covered in your own blood, like his being there has fixed everything. 

“Y/N,” he says back, holding your elbow carefully, “it’s okay, it’s all right.” 

“You have to get the straps off of me. I need to go home-”

“I know, that’s what we’re doing. We’ll get them off of you–”

“–I have to go home, Hotch. You have to take me home.” 

He knows that medical are close behind them, they’re coming in just as soon as the building has been cleared, and there’s more than enough agents to have it done in the next thirty seconds. He has to assess you in that time. He can take care of you. 

The SWAT agent cuts your last bindings and you immediately attempt to get up, gasping in pain when four hands push you down at the same time. “Sit down,” Hotch says, “Y/N, just stay there, just for a second.”

“No, no, let me down, I need to go home, I haven’t looked after anything and– and the laundry’s piled up, and–”

“Honey,” he says firmly, “I’m gonna take you home. I am.” He meets your eyes, panic and tears and concerning bloodshot clouding your vision. “I’m gonna take you home, but please stay still. Just until the EMS is here. Just so they can look at you.” 

“I want to go home now,” you say, nearly shrieking, grasping at his arm. It’s so loud in the room with so many people speaking that he’s almost glad for it. 

Your fingers slide down his sleeve and leave streaks of gore in their wake. Your hands are caked in your own blood. Done with his bargaining, you push up into his arms and get onto one of your feet, an incredible amount of force behind you as you get your way. Your knees buckle immediately —Hotch scoops you up and dumps you back in your chair, even as you cry and cry into his chest. 

“No, I need to go home, I have so much to do, I can’t stay here,” you whine, pain eating at your voice, your fingers weakening where they’re pressed to his stomach. 

“I promise I’m going to take you home,” he says, ducking to speak directly into your ear. “Do you trust me? I promise I’m going to take you back home. Please, please, sweetheart, trust me.” 

You hiccup, tears thick running down your cheeks, and orange where they collect at your chin, chest heaving as you border incoherency. “I do trust you. I– I trust you, I just–”

He takes a showful breath. “Deep breath. I’ll bring you home soon.” 

“All my plants are dead,” you mumble, blood smudging over your eyelids as you rub them harshly. 

Hotch holds your wrists. 

— <3 

He keeps his promise (though you don’t remember him making it, not beyond what Morgan recounts). Hotch takes you home when you’re well enough to be there, and he, done with pretences, stays for a while as you recover. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, more tired than you’ve ever been in your life, peering at him through sticky lashes where you lay in bed. 

He’s odd to see without shoes. “Nothing,” he says, misting the leaves of your window plant with a frown. “Just hoping I can bring this one back to life.” 

You’re not sure why he’s so worried about the plants. It can’t be judgement; he knows exactly why they died. 

Well. Whatever professionalism was between you is well and truly gone. You wonder what it is you said to him that made him finally snap, but it was nice to wake up with his hand in yours, and it’s nicer still to see him each morning. When you clear your throat and look at him longingly, you know without asking that he’s going to find his way back to your side, and kiss your cheek, hands smelling of fresh soil. He does it all with ease. 

“You brought me back to life,” you joke weakly. 

“I had much more help than the plants.” He’s been panicky around you sometimes since he found you again, but not scared. He tilts your face gently one way and then another. “You look pretty, but very tired. Why don’t you sleep some more, hm?” 

“Can I… I mean, do you think you could…” 

He takes your arm as he settles in to comfort beside you. His fingers begin to trace a gentle line down your arm, meandering around cuts and bruises. 

You close your eyes, hesitant of the darkness. “Are you sure I’m okay?” you ask quietly. 

“You’re home, honey. Safe and sound.” 

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 

Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 

Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 

You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 

Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”

It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 

The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 

You never told me your name.

Why do you want to know my name?

Because I want to know who I’m looking at.

This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 

It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”

“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.

He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 

Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 

“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”

He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”

You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”

You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 

You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”

“Can I get a kiss now?” 

He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”

“Aw man! Really?”

You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”

You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 

“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”

“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 

“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.

“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 

You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 

You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 

“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”

Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”

“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 

“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 

“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 

“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.

He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 

You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 

He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”

Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 

Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”

You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”

After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 

As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”

You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 

“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”

You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."

He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”

You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.

[violetskylights0]

Squeaky Clean

Vi x Reader

Summary: You and Vi break into a house with an obnoxiously big shower...it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Warnings: Smut (18+) -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sneaking into houses in Piltover was old news for you and Vi. You’d done this a hundred times, rarely getting caught. But tonight felt different. Vi had set her sights on a stunning condo by the river, and though you were hesitant, one look at her stubborn grin was all it took.

“C’mon, gorgeous. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” she said, flashing you that cocky smirk that had you melting in an instant. She held your hand, pulling you forward, and you couldn’t help but follow.

She motioned toward a window a few feet up, and you gave her a knowing smile, stepping into her hands to boost yourself up. Just like old times. Vi lifted you with ease, her hands lingering a bit too long on your ass, and you shot her a grin.

"Seriously, Vi? Five seconds in, and you’re already getting handsy?” you teased as you shimmied in, reaching a hand back to her.

“It’s not my fault your ass looks so damn good in those pants,” she quipped, grabbing hold of your arm as you pulled her in. But when she flew through and practically landed on top of you, you both hit the ground with a soft thud.

Your eyes widened at the noise, but Vi just chuckled, brushing a reassuring hand against your cheek. “Relax. Owner’s in Ixtal for some business trip. I’ve been scoping the place for weeks. We’re clear.” She helped you up, pulling you close, her touch lingering as if to reassure herself you were still here.

“You know, it’s a little scary how good you are at this,” you murmured, your gaze drifting to her lips, feeling that familiar warmth in her presence.

She leaned in, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “I seem to remember you telling me I’m good at a couple of other things too,” she said, kissing along your neck in gentle, lingering brushes that made your heart race.

You sighed, a little dazed, but still smirked. “Vi,” you breathed, feigning a whine. “Focus, babe. You want dinner next week, or are you planning to flirt me to death here?”

She laughed, giving your ass a light tap as she passed. “Dinner? I’m thinking I’d rather have you for dessert. But someone insists I need more nutrients or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, feeling a glimmer of what you thought you’d lost forever. After all, you’d been through, it was a relief to see pieces of the Vi you fell for hadn’t gone anywhere.

You both agreed to split up. Vi took the main floor while you explored upstairs, your rule simple: only take things no one would miss. But as you crept into the bathroom, your jaw dropped.

Moonlight spilled across sleek stone floors and lush plants, creating a humid, glimmering oasis. The shower itself was enormous, complete with a stone bench carved into the side. You couldn’t help but imagine hot water streaming endlessly—an impossible luxury at home.

“Vi!” you called, barely containing your excitement. “You have to see this.”

A moment later, she appeared, pink hair catching in the soft light, and let out a low whistle as she took it all in. “Holy shit. Didn’t even know they made bathrooms this big.”

“Can you believe this is normal for these people?” you muttered, a hint of irritation slipping into your tone.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes darkening. “Yeah, these pricks’ biggest issue is the time it takes to walk across their showers. They don’t know the first thing about struggling just to make it by.”

“Hey…hey. I’m sorry I didnt mean to sound annoyed” You stepped in front of her, cupping her cheek to pull her gaze back to you, grounding her in your touch. “Forget them and their fancy showers,” you whispered, brushing your thumb gently against her cheek.

“We may not have a shower—or even an apartment as big as this,” you murmured, your lips curling into a soft smile, “but I have you. And a year ago, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. So every day I get to see your face, hold your hand, and kiss your cheek,” you leaned in to place a feather-light kiss on her cheek, “is a day in paradise.”

Vi’s fierce expression softened, and she closed her eyes, turning her head to press a kiss to your palm. “And every time I hear your voice, I feel the same,” she replied, pulling you in, her arms wrapping around your waist as if she’d never let go.

You smiled at each other as she leaned in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that made the world fall away. It was a feeling you’d never tire of, the spark even more intense after all the years and everything you’d been through.

You barely noticed her guiding you back until you felt the cool tile at your back, and you let out a small laugh.

“Hey,” you breathed, catching her eye. “Feels like we’d be missing out if we didn’t take advantage of this shower.”

She raised an eyebrow as you stepped back, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to lift it slowly. Just the sight of your skin made her draw in a sharp breath, her eyes full of something tender and fierce all at once.

"I'm surprised,” Vi murmured, not even trying to hide the way her gaze lingered on your bare chest. “Usually you’re the cautious one when we’re breaking into places.”

You smirked, unbuttoning your pants as you stepped onto the cold marble of the shower. “Just because you’re the one with the prison record doesn’t mean I can’t have a little devious streak too.”

Vi blinked, snapping back to the moment as she started pulling off her clothes, her smirk widening. “If you didn’t look so damn good right now, I’d have a clever comeback ready.”

You turned on the water, feeling the icy beads at first but quickly relaxing as the warmth took over. Watching Vi strip off her sports bra, you gave her a slow, inviting smile, motioning her closer with a single finger.

"Why don’t you come take a closer look?”

She let out a low groan as her hands found your hips, pulling you flush against her. “You’re gonna be the death of me, huh, cupcake?” she whispered, lips brushing along your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that melted you in her arms.

You let out a soft moan feeling the warm outline of Vi’s lips on your throat as one hand slowly ran up your stomach before grasping your left breast and lightly tracing your nipple with your thumb. 

Your hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her pink strands as you tighten your grip, tugging just enough to make her gasp. Vi let out a low, throaty groan, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into you, the warmth between you growing with each little pull.

Someone is not playing fair,” Vi said biting down on your nipple playfully. “Two can play that game.” She said slowly lowering herself. 

The soft brush of her chest against your stomach as she lowered herself made your knees nearly buckle, but then you caught sight of her face and forgot to breathe.

Vi looked up at you, blinking slowly, her blue eyes vibrant in the moonlight. Droplets traced down her skin, following each scar, each line of her face, making her look like something out of a dream.

“Holy s-shit, Vi,” you breathed, voice trembling as she backed you against the shower wall. The cool stone made you gasp, but Vi only grinned, lifting your leg over her shoulder, her touch sending a rush of warmth through you.

Vi started slowly kissing up your leg making sure never to lose eye contact with you as she did one long lick up your core making you grip her hair again. 

“So sensitive today huh sweetheart,” Vi smirked against you cupping your heat. 

“Vi if you don't start eating me out soon I swear.” You said looking down at her. 

“Now c’mon is that any way to ask? You know good girls are supposed to beg.” Vi said her tone a bit more stern as she pressed her palm against your clit  making you jump. 

“Fuck really? I mean it was my idea to have shower sex in the first pla- ah!” you whimpered as she started grinding her palm against your clit and raising her eyebrow at you. 

“Okay okay, you win! Please fuck me. Make sure all of Piltover can hear how good you fuck me.” You borderline yelled as Vi moved her hand diving in head first. 

The sounds that echoed through the bathroom would make a brothel blush. The way Vi twirled her tongue over and over your clit just how she knew you liked it. Even pausing to slowly roll the numb between her lips and suck drove you crazy. You would have fallen over if her muscular strong arms were not pinning you to the wall. 

“You can do it, sweet girl. I know you're close. Don’t you want to cum on my face and mark what's yours?” Vi moaned slipping her tongue in your cunt. 

You felt the air leave your lungs as she used her thump to keep rubbing your swollen clit while she fucked you with her tongue. You didn't mean for a scream to come out but it all felt too good…and then it stopped. 

Vi leaned back standing up. 

“What the fuck! Why!” You begged as she led you to the deeper part of the shower with a seat and tuned on the second shower head. 

“Because of my love. I’m going to fuck you in this seat so good that you will never be able to take a shower without thinking of me.” Vi winked laying you down on the bench as you rolled your eyes at her cockiness. 

Vi’s gaze flicked around the shower until she spotted a bottle of soap on a ledge nearby. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned back to you, a smirk curving her lips while you leaned back on your elbows, watching her.

“Why don’t you lather up and give me a little show, hmm?” she murmured, setting the bottle beside you before taking a seat on the bench across, her gaze never leaving you.

You looked at Vi slowly spread her legs waiting for you as you tried not to gawk at the sight. The light drops running down the muscles of her arms all the way to her core had you soaked all over again. 

You nodded not being able to form words as you sat up a bit pouring the cold substance in your hands and slowly rubbing it on your body. 

You made sure to slowly rub all the way from your thighs to your breast as Vi’s arm moved to her own heat. 

You smiled rubbing the soap over and over your tits creating bubbles as Vi began circling her clit. 

“Who knew my good girl was such a fucking slut on display.” Vi moaned not daring to look away from you for a second as she sped up the circles.

You could tell she was getting close from the way her face flushed to her breathing pattern and right as you began to lower your hand to your own clit you stopped making Vi look confused. 

“Two can play that game.” You mimicked her voice and smirked. 

You expected Vi to flash you her playful smile and groan but her eyes got dark focusing in on you. 

“‘I am going to ruin you, sweet girl.” Vi growled positioning herself over you and spreading your legs. 

You barley had time to react to the sight of Vi lining up her heat with yours as you tried to grab onto anything around you at the sensation of her clit bumping yours.

Vi lifted you left leg holding it up straight as she started moving. Your mouth fell open from the sensation. As she began rocking her hips you could barely control the sounds coming out of your mouth. 

“Take it like a good slut for me yeah?” Vi grunted speeding up her pace. 

The sound of your cunts rubbing together bounced off the walls filling the bathroom with the sounds of you together. Your breath started quickening as you looked up at Vi who was mesmerized by the way your tits were bouncing.

“Fuck! Yes Please don't stop baby.” You shrieked as she began grinding down on you. 

‘Can I cum baby? please please oh GOD.” You moaned gripping her thigh. 

“Mhmm come with me pretty girl watch me make a mess of this sloppy fucking pussy.” Vi whined as you saw she was close to. She started thrusting her hips quickly again as your orgasm quickly barreled to you as a string of curses and Vi’s name slipped from your lips. 

As your legs began to shake you could see Vi about to reach her peak as well encouraging her.

“Come on baby come for me.” You cooed as the overstimulation kicked in making your eyes roll back which tipped Vi over the edge seeing you fucked out like that. 

Her hips thrust widely before she let out a high-pitched moan gasping as you felt her pussy throb against yours. 

For a moment, you both just sat there, catching your breath as the steam swirled around you. Vi gently lowered your leg and flopped beside you on the bench, her fingers trailing softly up and down your hip, massaging the muscles with a slow, soothing touch.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, her brows furrowed in genuine concern. “I mean, I only called you a slut because…well, you said you liked it. But I can stop—” she began to ramble, and you couldn’t help but cut her off with a soft kiss.

She was always so cute when she got like this—one moment completely losing herself with you, the next moment wrapped in that familiar softness, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

“I loved it,” you assured her, your fingers brushing tenderly across her cheek. “And I love you,” you added, smiling into her eyes.

Her expression softened, that tough edge in her gaze melting away as she leaned in for another kiss, slow and full of everything she’d never quite put into words. “I love you too,” she whispered, a rare hint of vulnerability showing through her usual boldness.

She chuckled, looking around the lavish shower. “Guess these Piltover jerks are good for something,” she teased, making you laugh as she squeezed your hand.

“Come on, Pinky. Shower time for real,” you said, standing.

“Oh, so I get the soap treatment this time?” Vi grinned, raising an eyebrow as you pointed playfully at her, then sauntered toward the other side of the shower.

Vi shook her head, biting her lip as she watched your hips sway. “Oh, keep that up, and we’ll be here all night,” she called, her mischievous grin promising that “getting clean” was the last thing on her mind.

Author note: Oh, how I have MISSED my Vi. The brainrot has taken over again and it feels so good. Feel free to message ideas or scenarios if you have them!

[jesuistrestriste]

you make art put on a skirt for the halloween party.

one that’s white and frilly and just barely covering him up; one that makes him compulsively pull down on the bottom of it to conceal himself everytime he has to talk to someone. fumbling with his red solo cup as he prays that whoever he’s in conversation with thinks it’s a joke.

and people do.

when you two walk through the front door of the house party, all of his fellow tennis players burst into laughter and rush up to him. they clap him on the back and tug on his pearl-covered corset. they put their hands all over his body; someone even manages to give him a playful slap on his ass. he feels like a piece of meat.

art’s dressed as an angel, while you’re dressed as the devil. fitting, he had thought when you helped him with his thigh-highs. he didn’t want to admit that you encouraging forcing him to dress so.. femininely.. made him feel hot under the collar. not to mention the grabby touches from his stanford tennis team buddies. it was all too much.

so the night goes on, and he sticks close to your side. one hand holding yours nearly 24/7 so he doesn’t lose you.

he gets more laughs here and there when new people arrive and see his costume. they, like everyone else, assume it’s some sort of gag he’s doing. or, at the very least, a humiliation ritual that you’re subjecting him to for some reason. art drinks cupful and cupful of the nasty, syrupy party punch to dull the weird warmth brewing in the pit of his stomach.

the party dies down and art is wasted.

like, completely gone.

while you’re in the middle of a heated debate with one of your friends about whether or not the guy she’s dating is worthy of approval, art presses his hips into the back of your body and mouths at your neck. it’s slow and a little sloppy, and then you realize you have to be on caretaker duty for the rest of the evening.

but then he kisses your jaw with more intention, his hips absentmindedly rolling against you from behind. you pull him away by his wrist before your friend has a chance to realize what he’s doing.

you drag him into the bathroom and shut the door, turning to look at him. he looks like a drunk college chick. costume slipping, tights somehow ripped, cheeks flushed, hair messed up in the most slutty way. and he’s managed to lose his halo headband somewhere.

he pushes you backwards to the toilet and you ungracefully fall back onto the toilet seat cover with a hard thump. you frown up at him and shake your head.

“art,” you hum, “babe, youre- god, when did you drink so much? i don’t even—“

he cuts you off by slowly climbing into your lap. his skirt rides up his thighs, milky skin being revealed as the fabric lifts. he whimpers.

“please..”

your hands instinctively come up to his waist, cupping it and playing with the dangling string holding together the back of his top. he shivers and blinks slowly.

“i.. i jus’ want you to touch me,” he breathes out, slurring the whole way, “please touch me..”

he takes one of your wrists and guides your hand up his skirt. you’re surprised when you feel how fucking hard he is inside the lacy panties you tucked his cock into before you both left for the night.

“im so fucking horny,” he gasps, “i don’t know.. dunno why ‘m so.. im leaking already, please-“

you grope him over the fabric and he keens, his chest falling forward to press against yours before he swallows thickly and his jaw goes slack. you feel him throbbing in your palm.

he turns his head so that his lips are right by your ear, and then one of his arms reaches around to wrap around your lower back. his blonde curls are starting to stick to his forehead.

“please… please jus’ play with me…”

he cums over your fingers after just ten strokes.

you make him walk home with you as the remnants of it drips down his thighs.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

hiya love, I just want to say how amazing your pieces are xx

I would like to make an ot8 request: so basically yn falls out with one of the members (like Minho for example) for whatever reason (you can decide) so there's like a huge argument and the members try to break the argument up but the member who yn is arguing with says something horrible so yn leaves the house quickly and ends up getting hurt (like breaking an ankle/ leg or something) so she can't walk home and the members go out to find her. so basically and angsty start with a really fluffy ending.

I really hope that you understand what I mean.

𝕎𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"That was totally uncalled for!" Han exclaimed, following Y/N into the house, clearly upset.

"Babe, I told you—he wasn’t flirting with me. He just wanted to borrow some notes," she said, taking off her shoes.

"Nah-uh! You didn’t even introduce me as your boyfriend when he asked you out for coffee!" Han crossed his arms, frustration written all over his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I respectfully declined! Can we just let it go? We’ve been arguing for five minutes." She dropped her bag on the couch with a sigh.

"Hey guys!" Changbin chimed in as he walked in, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey babe," Y/N replied, but Han wasn’t finished.

"Hey babe- anyways Y/nie, this isn't fair you never introduce me as your boyfriend." he said, pouting.

"That’s not true!" she started, but Changbin leaned in to give her a quick kiss, then turned to give one to Han. "Thats not true Han, you know that," she finished looking up at him.

"Yes it is and to make matters worse, you let him sit with us!" Han groaned, raising his voice.

"Whoa, what’s going on? How was the study date?" Changbin asked, sensing the tension.

"What study date? Y/N's 'friend' interrupted and ruined it. She didn’t even say anything!" Han rolled his eyes.

"Okay, he’s being dramatic—"

"Dramatic? I get called dramatic every time I share my feelings!" Han shot back.

"Alright, Han, you’re overreacting," Y/N said, feeling her own frustration rise.

"Let’s just talk it out," Changbin suggested, trying to mediate.

"You let him disrespect me!" Han shouted.

"That’s just how he jokes!" Y/N defended, her voice rising.

"He didn’t make fun of your masculinity, did he?!" Han yelled.

"Who made jokes about your masculinity?" Leeknow asked, walking in, confused.

"Y/N's new boyfriend," Han scoffed.

"Han, stop! You don’t need to drag everyone into this. Let’s just figure it out ourselves," Y/N pleaded.

"Oh, what?! You don’t want them knowing you’ve been 'hoe-ing' around?" Han retorted, sarcasm thick in his tone.

"Wow, maybe I am a hoe! You know me—a girl dating eight guys. Biggest hoe on the planet, right?" she shot back, standing up from the couch.

"What did I just walk into...?" Chan asked, joining the conversation.

"Y/N, that’s not what I meant!" Han groaned.

"Both of you, just stop," Changbin grumbled, trying to restore order.

"Wait, I’m confused... Who made fun of Han’s masculinity, and why is Y/N a hoe?" Leeknow asked, sitting down.

"Who’s a hoe?" Hyunjin chimed in, walking into the room, curious.

Y/N buried her face in her hands. Great, now everyone’s here!

"We were having our study date, and then this guy—"

"My friend," she interrupted.

"Yeah, whatever," Han scoffed. "He came over, flirted with her, even asked her out. And when he asked who I was, she didn’t even introduce me! Mind you, she never introduces me as heer boyfriend!"

"Well, I didn’t want to shout it for the whole world to hear!" she replied, crossing her arms.

"Sh, Y/N, let him finish," Chan said, trying to keep the peace.

"Then he sat at our table, and instead of defending me, she laughed at his jokes about how feminine I look!" Han finished, glaring at her. "I know I’m not the buffest guy, but at least back me up!"

"Han!" she yelled, exasperated. "There’s nothing wrong with being feminine! And I can’t defend you all the time!"

"I know you can’t, but you were right there!" he shot back.

"Y/N, you should have said something. Letting him sit with you was crossing a line..." Leeknow said, shaking his head.

"You could have told himyou were on a date. I’d be hurt if you didn’t," Chan added, softening his tone.

Y/N felt like everyone was against her, and it hurt. She wasn’t in the wrong; she didn’t want that guy, and they were overreacting.

"See! Even they get it!" Han scoffed.

"You guys don’t understand!" she yelled, feeling defeated. "You think I wanted his attention?!"

"Get what?! Did you just want to flirt?" Han pressed.

"Han, stop saying that. It really hurts," she shot back, her voice trembling.

"Well, I guess we’re all hurt now, huh? Don’t you think you’re being ‘dramatic’?" he said mockingly, and that was the last straw.

"Are none of you going to stand up for me?" she looked around, feeling abandoned. With a huff, she walked past Han, grabbing her shoes.

"Where are you going?" Hyunjin asked, concerned.

"Away from him," she said simply, her heart racing.

"Well great! Don’t come back, and I hope the door doesn’t hit you on the way out!" Han snapped.

Y/N looked back, hurt. "Maybe I won’t come back. Thanks, Han," she said quietly, tying her laces.

"Now you’re playing the victim?" he shot back.

"Han, that’s enough. Y/N, don’t go out. It’s late and cold," Changbin said, standing up.

"It’s fine. Just leave me alone," she replied, feeling empty as she stepped outside. She walked quickly, needing to escape.

Her breathing grew shallow. She didn’t want an anxiety attack, but everything felt overwhelming. The world felt like it was crashing down, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It was super cold out, and her chest was aching. God, she hated asthma with a passion. Her condition always seemed to make everything ten times worse. This walk was already giving her trouble with her breathing.

Deciding to take a break, she sat on one of the benches. It was dark outside, and she didn’t know exactly what time it was or how long she had been out, but it felt like hours.

Her body was freezing cold, and she started to feel her chest tighten. Little coughs escaped her mouth.

“Why do I always have to go through this?” she grumbled, remembering the fight back at the house.

Tears began to escape her eyes as her breathing grew harder. Her hands automatically reached for her inhaler.

“Shit,” she cursed when she realized she had left it in her bag at home. She didn’t want to go back—well, not yet—so she decided to tough it out, trying to take deep breaths.

“Why does it hurt so much?” she cried, clutching her chest. She looked around, hoping to find a store, but there were none, and she was too cold and too weak to move.

Maybe she could call I.N to pick her up? she wondered, but cursed again when she realized she didn’t have her phone.

Trying to get up from the seat, she took a few steps before completely missing a staircase. Her head was too busy thinking about Han to pay attention.

She let out a yelp as she hit the ground hard.

“Ow,” she groaned, feeling the pain shoot up her leg and quickly grabbing it.

It really hurt, and she couldn’t help but curse at herself.

“So pathetic, Y/N,” she said to herself. She was cold, on the verge of a panic attack, and had a sprained ankle. Great! Today was not her day at all.

Back at the house the boys started to grow worried.

“Yeah, I’m going out there,” Chan said, grabbing his jacket. “It’s freezing, and she doesn’t have half her things.” He slipped on his shoes quickly.

“We’ll come with,” Hyunjin chimed in, determination in his voice.

“What did you guys say to her that made her so upset?” Felix had just walked in and was confused by the tension.

“Yeah, I’m confused too,” Seungmin added, looking between them.

“Can we explain later, babe?” Lee Know said, pulling on his own jacket.

“Okay, but if you guys are in the wrong, I’m kicking your asses. You know she has asthma and you didn’t bother chasing after her.” Felix glared at them before heading for the door.

“She’s probably at the park,” Chan sighed, shivering. He couldn’t imagine how cold she must be.

“I’ll grab an extra jacket just in case,” I.N said, dashing back into the house to retrieve her warm jacket.

The walk to the park took about thirty minutes. Thirty minutes filled with silence, heavy with unspoken worries, especially since Han had been crying—now sobbing—for two hours straight.

“Han, please, you’re going to get dehydrated with all this crying,” Changbin said gently, holding the smaller boy tightly.

“I can’t help it! This is my fault. I told her not to come back, and she probably won’t,” Han cried harder at the thought, guilt flooding his voice. “I should have just shut up.”

“We all should have,” Lee Know grumbled more to himself than the others.

“Crying right now won’t bring her back; you’re just tiring yourself out, baby,” Changbin said softly, wiping Han’s tears away.

“S-sorry,” Han whispered, trying to calm down.

When they finally reached the park, they split up, scanning the area. It was a vast, dark expanse, and the fear of what could happen to her sent chills down their spines.

“There she is!” I.N yelled suddenly, pointing as he and Felix rushed over.

“Y/N? Babe?” Felix called out, panic rising in his voice as he quickly approached her shivering form. Her lips were blue, and she was coughing uncontrollably.

“Can you hear me?” Felix shook her lightly, desperation in his tone.

“Innie?” she said faintly, her eyes barely opening. “Home, please…” she cried, gripping him tightly.

“I got you, baby,” I.N replied, swiftly removing his jacket and draping it around her shoulders before grabbing her jacket from Felix and putting it on her as well. "Breathe for me."

“Should I call the hyungs?” Felix asked, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try to carry her,” I.N said, holding her closer. The adrenaline coursing through him made him feel warm despite the cold.

“Y/N? Talk to me, baby. I need you awake. Don’t pass out,” he pleaded softly.

“C-cold,” she stuttered, struggling to speak. “I-I sprained m-my ankle,” she managed to say. “I-is Hannie o-okay?”

“Yes, baby, he’s fine, but right now we need to focus on you,” I.N said firmly. “Lix, I’ll carry her. Tell the boys to meet us at the entrance; it’s quicker.” Without wasting another moment, he lifted her into his arms.

Felix followed close behind, keeping a watchful eye on both of them until the rest of the group joined them at the entrance.

“Jesus…” Chan gasped at the sight before him.

“Y/Nnie? Y/Nnie, I’m so sorry! Please don’t die,” Han was the first to rush to her side, clutching her freezing hands.

“Is she heavy, I.N? I can carry her,” Chan offered, but I.N shook his head.

“You guys are the reason we’re here in the first place,” he growled, protective.

“B-be nice,” Y/N scolded him weakly. I.N let out a small chuckle, grateful she still had the strength to say something.

“I’ll run her a hot bath!” Felix shouted, dashing ahead into the house.

“I’ll turn on the fire place,” Seungmin said, moving swiftly.

“I’ll make some hot chocolate,” Lee Know volunteered, hurrying after Felix.

“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” Chan added, following suit.

“I’ll turn on the heater,” Hyunjin said, already on his way inside.

“And I’ll grab blankets,” Changbin finished, bringing up the rear.

“I’ll take her upstairs,” I.N said, carrying Y/N gently. Han followed closely, worried and anxious. I.N carefully set her down on the bed before removing her soaking clothes, replacing them with warm, dry ones.

She looked a little better, her normal color slowly returning, but her mind was racing.

“Anything hurting, babe?” I.N asked gently once she was settled.

“Chest hurts,” she whispered, still clinging to him. She felt so cold.

“Can I help with something?” Han asked softly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He’d been quietly crying, too afraid to touch her, feeling responsible for the situation.

“Maybe go down and grab her stuff?” I.N suggested, not wanting Han to feel worse.

“Hannie?” Y/N croaked. “I w-want Hannie,” she cried.

Han was there in seconds, right by her side.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Baby, I’m right here. No need to say sorry. I’m sorry, okay? We just need to get you better now,” he said, kissing her forehead gently. She instinctively clung to his chest, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“The bath is ready,” Felix announced as he came back into the room. I.N nodded before carefully carrying her to the tub. She let out small whimpers; the hot water felt both painful and soothing against her cold skin.

“Is it good, baby?” I.N asked softly as he began to shampoo her hair.

“Mhm…” she murmured, her eyes growing heavy. She drifted off to sleep, finally feeling safe and warm.

When she woke up, she found herself in the middle of a cuddle pile, wrapped in soft pajamas and socks. A beanie rested on her head, and someone was massaging her ankle gently.

She groaned at the pain before instinctively cuddling into the person next to her.

“Hey there,” Lee Know said softly, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. “Hungry?”

She shook her head, feeling overwhelmed. But eventually, Lee Know encouraged her to drink some hot tea and hot cocoa, followed by Chan bringing her all sorts of tablets.

As everyone tended to her, she felt a wave of warmth wash over her, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the thought.

“Feeling better?” I.N asked, looking over at her with a soft smile.

“Yes, please,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

She looked around and saw Han sitting up. He was fidgeting with his hands, looking like he wanted to say something.

“Han, you okay?” she asked, concerned. He looked at her with pleading eyes, then sighed and crawled closer, craving her touch.

“Y/N, I want to apologize for what I said earlier,” Han began, his voice soft. “It was wrong of me, and I was out of line. I was just really upset about everything and feeling insecure. I thought maybe you were embarrassed by me being more 'feminin'. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m truly sorry. I love you, and you’re not someone who seeks attention. I hope you can forgive me.” He looked away, trying to hide his tears, but they slipped out. Y/N's heart broke. This was all a misunderstanding, and she wished he had said this sooner.

“Han, come here,” she said gently. She made space for him to squeeze in between her and Felix, who was clinging to her. He settled into the cuddle pile, and she held him close.

“I know you’re a feminin guy, and that’s what makes me love you even more. It hurts me to think you feel insecure just because you’re different. I don’t like that guy who teased you; I find him really annoying. I only let him sit with us because of his connection to school. When he was teasing you, I thought you were confident enough to handle it. I promise I’ll stand up for you next time, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not plus i have like four boyfriends that are very much built like stone. No offense," she turned to look at the 4 elders of the group who just chuckled, "Its nice painting my nails with you, Felix, Seungmin and I.N. It's fun playing dress up and going shopping and you guys not caring. It's nice when you guys cling to me and want kisses and cuddles. I love you for you and i hope you don't ever feel like you have to be manly for me...” She kissed his forehead and finished.

“That was really sweet…” Han said, feeling a bit shy with his red cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replied, giving him a quick kiss.

“We should also apologize for how we acted,” Lee Know said, looking a bit guilty.

“Yeah, we should have tried to calm things down and listened to you,” Chan added.

“Oh fuck off,” Y/N laughed, pulling Han closer. “Only Han gets my special love; the rest of you are on dish duty!” she teased.

“What?! That’s not fair,” Hyunjin pouted.

“Too bad! I’m too lazy,” she stuck out her tongue, making everyone burst into laughter.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you @mbioooo0000!

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

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[teapartyprincess4two]

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Chris has 2 sons in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of Dad!Chris.

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

—

☆SFW

Fatherhood is something that scared Chris beyond belief, but when you broke the news to him he couldn’t contain his excitement. When your son was born, he fell in love immediately, and you both learned to navigate being parents. Then, when you were blessed with a second son, he was even happier.

☆ Chris cherishes every single memory, he’s really sappy about it all. He has a box full of pictures, baby socks, the wristbands from the hospital, everything.

☆ “Chris, some of this is trash,” you chuckle, filtering through the endless trinkets that all seemed to hold significance to him.

☆ “Our son’s first pair of socks isn’t trash, Y/n!” he snatches the box away from you, carefully placing everything back in.

☆ “Okay, but this dirty napkin?”

☆ “I wiped my tears with that. THANK YOU,” he snatches it from you, his sassy demeanor making you laugh.

☆ Chris loves spoiling his son, whether it be with toys and games, or with summer trips.

☆ He goes all out too, splurging on trips to Disney or to elaborate water parks, making sure to book the hotel and everything.

☆ “Babe, he’s 3. He won’t even remember this,” you chuckle, dragging luggage’s behind you.

☆ “Yes you will. Right, son?” Chris coos, bouncing the baby in his arms and blowing a raspberry into his neck. The baby giggles, the sound being music to Chris’s ears.

☆ The whole week it’s just you and Chris going on all the kiddy rides, snapping pictures of your son, and passing out back at the hotel.

☆ When you find out you’re pregnant with your second son, Chris does everything in his power to make your firstborn’s last months as an only child special.

☆ He takes him to the park, cuddles him to sleep every night, and showers that boy in so much love.

☆ Even though Chris is extremely high energy, being a working dad of two is very tiring.

☆ So, when the kids get older, he starts feeling comfortable taking ‘dad naps’ in random spots around the house.

☆ “Chris, babe, can you help me in here really quick?” you’re balancing a fussy baby on your hip, the other hand stirring whatever’s on the stove.

☆ You peer your head outside to see Chris knocked out on the hanging lounge chair. His chin rests on his chest, mouth open and arms crossed as small snores fall past his lips.

☆ Your oldest son holds a long piece of grass, tickling Chris’s nose with it. Your son whispers eerily,“Wake up daaaad. Wake uppppp.” You can’t help but giggle at the sight.

☆ Chris has successfully managed to cement his legacy as the ‘cool dad,’ or at least he thinks he has.

☆ He loves wearing funky graphic t-shirts when he’s chaperoning the kids, “I was young once too. I was the shit back then, kid.”

☆ Your oldest son just rolls his eyes playfully, but in reality he really looks up to Chris.

☆ Your youngest son loves dressing up like his dad, wearing his oversized t-shirts and beanies so big they fall past his eyes.

☆ “Look mom, I look like daddy!” he exclaims, accidentally tripping on the shirt as he runs towards you.

☆ Other times, Chris will throw on some sunglasses and try acting mysterious.

☆ The mysterious act doesn’t last long though, especially not when your youngest son cuddles up next to him for his afternoon nap or when your oldest starts asking for snack money.

☆ At family parties, Chris goes all out. He’s buying a bouncy house, cooking the burgers, renting an ice cream truck, and inviting all of his family.

☆ He loves playing games with his kids, usually forming teams and challenging them, “Alright me and Matt verses you two. Losers have to jump into the pool with their clothes on.”

☆ “Okay, but uncle Nick has to be on our team,” your oldest replies, fully confident in his ability to win his dad.

☆ Nick is then recruited, and surprisingly isn’t needed because your sons are completely obliterating Chris’s team.

☆ Chris isn’t a sore loser, it’s a trait he never wants to subconsciously pass down to his kids, so he’s jumping into the pool fully clothed as his kids watch in a fit of giggles.

☆ Laundry day is easily Chris’s most hated day, especially with two messy children.

☆ He’ll ‘help’ you fold clothes, which really means that he’s toying with the same shirt and flicking through Netflix.

☆ When the kids are asleep, you and Chris will treat yourself to some takeout because that’s the only time you can order food that the kids don’t usually like.

☆ You two are like little rats, hiding in the pantry munching before the kids hear you and wake up.

☆ One small creak and you’re both frantically hiding the food. “THEY’RE COMING!” he whisper shouts, but when no one opens the door you both fall into a fit of laughter at the dramatics.

☆ As your firstborn son gets older, he starts becoming snappy and somewhat rude, as teenagers often do.

☆ And although Chris doesn’t like reprimanding his kids for the smallest things, he can be stern when it’s necessary.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth, kid. I don’t want to hear shit like that from you again. Go to bed.” Your son is hanging his head down and trudging to his room.

☆ “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him?” you whisper, holding onto Chris’s arm gently.

☆ “My kids aren’t gonna be disrespectful, especially not to their momma,” he replies, but when he hears your son sniffling in his room the guilt begins chipping away at him.

☆ It doesn’t take Chris long after that to enter your sons room and engulf him in a hug, scolding him in a much softer manner that informs your son that what he did was still wrong, but also that Chris still loves him.

☆ Baseball, basketball, soccer, lacrosse, hockey, football; your sons are doing it all.

☆ Chris is in the stands, cheering so loud that his voice is hoarse by the end of the game. Even when his kid’s team doesn’t win, he’s still so incredibly proud of their performance.

☆ Chris reps the jerseys, attends the practices, and coaches his sons even when they’re at home, “Widen up your stance then throw!”

☆ Whenever there’s an opportunity to make his boys laugh, Chris is taking it.

☆ He picks them up from school wearing big, fake teeth while playing silly songs on the stereo.

☆ Your sons are never embarrassed, they just hold their sides and laugh uncontrollably, “Dad I’m gonna pee, stop!”

☆ He doesn’t spoil his kids, but he definitely buys them an unnecessary amount of things. It’s mostly harmless stuff like toys, games, and sugary snacks.

☆ “They don’t need any more toys, Chris,” you scold, struggling to make space for all of it.

☆ “We don’t need anything, Y/n,” he replies, his inner child going crazy.

☆NSFW

As parents, it can be hard for you and Chris to make time for each other. Your schedules are packed with school, practices, work, and the few free moments in between are used for household chores. But Chris always makes time for you no matter what.

☆ For the most part, you have to be sneaky. During birthday parties or family events, you take advantage of how distracted your kids are and sneak away into an empty room like teenagers.

☆ Your adrenaline is pumping, clumsy fingers undoing his belt as he kisses you feverishly.

☆ “We have to be quick,” you whisper, watching hungrily as he lines himself up with your entrance.

☆ He doesn’t respond, knees wobbling and his animalistic grunts filling the room as he pumps into you quickly.

☆ Chris doesn’t last long, which is slightly embarrassing, but the times you guys have sex are so few and far between that you can’t blame him.

☆ “Sorry,” he whimpers, pulling out and collapsing next to you. “Don’t be sorry,” you smirk, straddling his hips and getting yourself off as he becomes an overstimulated mess.

☆ On date night Chris books a night at a nearby hotel, dropping the kids off with his parents and telling you to get all dolled up.

☆ He dresses up too, meeting you at the hotel bar and flirting with you like it’s his first time meeting you.

☆ “Hey beautiful, come around here often?”

☆ You play along, the butterflies swarming in your stomach despite sharing an entire life with this man, “I do. Never seen a man as handsome as you here before, though.”

☆ A few champagne glasses later, you’re both giddily walking back to the hotel room and making love under the soft lamp light.

☆ Some random mornings, he wakes up fully bricked and no matter how hard he tries to will the erection away it just won’t subside.

☆ “Y/n, baby, are you awake?” he murmurs, pressing soft, sloppy kisses on your exposed shoulders.

☆ You stir awake, a soft yawn escaping your lips as you reply, “I’m awake.”

☆ He pulls you in closer, his erection pressing against the back of your thigh.

☆ “Need some help there?” you chuckle, immediately understanding his intentions. He hums in response, letting you take over as he watches in a lazy haze.

☆ “So beautiful,” he moans, hands caressing and massaging every inch of your body. You can’t help but blush, hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

☆ “Look at me,” he instructs, he doesn’t want to miss out on a single thing.

☆ “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips are latched to yours, an overwhelming feeling of love overtaking him as he blows his load inside of you.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: meow 😋 dad Chris anyone? 🎤

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

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note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[lavenderstobins]

Eddie’s in danger.

He knows he’s in danger because there is a four year old beelining for him, trying very hard to appear like she’s not rapidly advancing towards him.

When Josie finally stops, she’s right in front of him.

He has no idea what might’ve spurred this. Best to play it safe. “Hey, kiddo.”

Josie blinks innocently at him. “You broked Steve’s mug.”

Shit. The mug. It had been an accident—he’d balanced it too precariously when he’d been doing the dishes and it had slipped. They have plenty of mugs so it shouldn’t have been an issue, except… it was Steve’s lucky mug.

Steve loves that mug. He always drinks out of it if he needs the good luck that day and swears that it never fails him. If he sees it has broken, he’d take it as a sign of, like, the worst luck ever, and that would be the end of that.

The break had been clean, at least. The pieces are currently hidden away in a shoebox until he has time to get the glue to fix it. It’ll be an easy enough fix, so Steve should be none-the-wiser.

Except.

“The luck mug,” Josie continues, presumably trying to raise an eyebrow but instead raising both of her eyebrows high up her forehead. It takes everything inside him not to snort at the sight.

“I’m fixing it,” he replies. Maybe this can be a lesson about white lies, or doing good, or something. There’s probably a lesson here, right? “Steve won’t know it ever broke.”

Josie blinks up at him again. “Be shame if he did.”

Eddie’s smile fades. “What?”

“Be shame if Steve knew you broked his mug,” she repeats, fixing him with a stare that’s oddly reminiscent of Erica.

Is he… is he being blackmailed by a child?

“Josie,” he starts, leaning forward so that they’re eye-to-eye and taking on a desperate tone. “You can’t tell Steve, okay? Nobody can know about the broken mug.”

She sighs heavily. It would be comical if not for the way his heartbeat has increased.

“I know,” she says, shaking her head. “But maybe I not know.”

“Don’t know,” he corrects, then squints. “What do you mean?”

“I know you broked his mug, Deedee.” Her tone is serious. “For Baby Sapphire, I not know. Baby Sapphire make it go—” She mimes an explosion with her hands, puffing out her cheeks. “Bye-bye.”

“Baby— What?”

Josie pulls out a crumpled catalogue page out of her pocket and holds it out. On it, in the corner, is a small, bug-eyed, blue plastic horse labelled Baby Sapphire. It’s the ugliest thing he’s ever seen. The nose isn’t even long enough for the horse to breathe. It’s like the pug of ponies.

Eddie looks up, meeting Josie’s pointed stare. It’s a battle he knows he’s already lost.

“Not a word,” he instructs, tucking the paper into his pocket. Josie brightens, beaming up at him, then skips away, merry as ever.

This is his life now. Blackmailed by a preschooler.

—

“Did you know Josie’s resorted to blackmail now?” Eddie says offhandedly. He’s sitting on the kitchen counter as Steve chops carrots, watching Josie play with her new toy from his view of the living room doorway.

“Earlier than I expected, honestly,” Steve says, not looking up. “What did she have on you?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, not on me.” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “I watched her extort Mike earlier.”

Steve glances at him, frowning. “Mike’s been out of Hawkins for two days.”

Fuck.

“I think Robin’s calling for me, actually.” Eddie slides off the counter, backing away as Steve’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but, duty calls.”

“Robin’s out with Max!” Steve calls as Eddie makes a hasty retreat to the living room. “You’re fooling nobody, babe!”

Josie looks up as Eddie closes the door behind him, ugly horse in hand. Moments later, Steve opens the door again, one hand on his hip.

“What did you do?” He swivels from Eddie to Josie. “Josie, sweetie, what did Deedee do?”

Eddie stares at Josie, practically feeling the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Josie shrugs, still playing. “I no know.”

He’s filled with relief. Steve doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you sure?” he presses. “It’s important to tell the truth, Josie.”

She stops, then, squinting up at him. “Always?”

“Always,” Steve confirms.

“Like when you said Bel eated Mama’s food but it was you?”

Steve falters, mouth falling open. A huge grin spreads across Eddie’s face.

“You what?” Eddie asks delightedly. “Stevie, you didn’t blame our cat for eating Robin’s leftovers!”

“Okay, you know what?” Steve holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. “Keep your secrets. Let’s not ask questions anymore.”

Eddie’s already laughing, though. “Steve, Rob almost took Bel to the vet because she thought she’d eaten fried rice.”

“I know!”

“And you offered to drive her there!”

“I know!”

—

[now on ao3]

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SHAKESPEAREAN ROSE

Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid silently admires the new psychiatrist on the floor. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: nothing, just fluff! A/N: Remember when I said I wrote more than what I posted for Doctors Across The Hall? This is it🤭 (I forgot to post it on aug 1, oops) I've decided to make Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader a series! It'll just be a bunch of fluff/angst/rare spicy stuff with psychiatrist!reader that happens in the same timeline but it's not in order. So, not exactly a story just tangents ??? Also I'm open to requests/prompts to keep this going hehe <3 Tell me what you think!

  “Guys, you’re so sweet! This is adorable!”

  Spencer’s ears perk up at the commotion. Curiosity thrums in his veins as he watches Derek hand you a rose. A small stuffed toy is clutched in your other hand. A wide smile adorns your face. A gorgeous sight on a late Wednesday morning. 

  Derek laughs, “Can’t take the credit.” He takes Penelope into his right arm. “Baby girl, right here strongly encouraged me.”

  Penelope gives you a bone-crushing hug, “Happy National Girlfriends Day, my favorite psychiatrist! Get ready for our sleepover! I have so many plans!” She squeals in excitement, inviting JJ in, who’d just discovered the similar objects on her desk.

  Your heart swells. Only two months into the bureau, and you’ve already found yourself a great group of friends. As the newly mandated psychiatrist in the building, it was nerve-wracking to enter the floor that seemed to reak of evil and know-it-alls. And although the BAU team is filled with know-it-alls, despite their constant denial, you managed to squeeze into their group as easily as befriending Penelope Garcia. Considering your office happens to be next to her lair.

  “Isn’t that day for couples only? For a girlfriend? Not a girl that's a friend?” You chuckle, taking in the aroma from the single rose.

  “Nah-uh,” Penelope wiggles her index finger. “All those boys are just piggybacking on girl power—” She turns to Derek, who’s about to object, “—You’re not included. You have been graciously influenced by moi. I’m just saying that I have my girlfriends, so I will celebrate the day the way I see fit, and that is with my gorgeous, gorgeous babes!” 

  As JJ begins to add her piece to the excitement parade, Spencer turns to Emily, who comes back from the kitchen, her stuffed toy in hand.

  “National Girlfriends Day?” He asks lowly.

  “What?” Emily furrows her brows for a moment before it flattens on her forehead. “Oh, that. Just a day some people celebrate to appreciate their girlfriends. Garcia’s excited about it—”

  Her voice quiets into the background in an instant. Spencer sits in his mind as he processes the information. National Girlfriends Day. The words echo in his head. A day to appreciate girlfriends…

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

  Lunch is usually your highlight of the day. Not because of the time you eat but because of the time you spend listening to all the sizzling drama Penelope has to offer. It’s an interesting experience to have when you’re also the same person who listens to her cries every time the BAU team flies to yet another case in a different state.

  Today, though. It’s quite different.

  As soon as you enter the bullpen to check in with another agent’s inquiry regarding your services on the floor, a delivery man approaches you and hands you a huge bouquet of roses. Your newly found friends immediately hover around like shameless busybodies. Though, you never mind at all.

  “Oooh, yet another gift from your secret lover…” Emily teases, perching on Derek’s desk as she sips coffee.

  Derek joins in, eyebrows raised. “What is that—” He picks up a small note from one of the roses, rolling it open, “—Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind…” He waves the note with a mischievous grin. “We don’t know this guy, but he sure is cheesy.”

  Emily flashes a sheepish smile, “There’s one on each rose! How many roses are there?” She starts counting by eye.

  “It’s like Shakespearean roses.” Penelope quips after reading another note from a different rose, passing you the small poem that immediately makes your lips curl.

  “Shakespearean roses..? That's a thing?” You curiously inquire, looking over the vast red petals close to your chest. 

Penelope shrugs, “Not really, but it could be!” She beams at you.

  JJ smiles, joining in after a small detour to her office. “Oh, wow!” Her eyes widen, and her brows lift. “Another one of the noble Sir Rumple?” She coaxes.

  “Who is this Sir Rumple, anyway? I’m very curious.” Emily snorts, wiggling her brows at you. She doesn’t push past your clear boundaries but never fails to strike all her attempts to get a name out of you. She’s a profiler, after all.

  “Most importantly, when is she going to introduce us to her secret lover?” Derek teases, nudging you playfully.

  Just as you look up, Spencer Reid stands behind everyone, clutching the strap of his bag like usual. 

  His hair is short and untamed. Big hazel brown eyes spark under the fluorescent light. A thin, shy smile. And a familiar red cardigan. 

  You reckon it was the priciest clothing you’ve ever bought as a small thank you present. But Spencer doesn’t need to know, really.

  Time moves slowly at the brewing desire to have Spencer close. His shy smile and adorable averting eyes bring you the thought of domesticity. You imagine him coming home just like that. Messy hair. Giddy, tight-lipped smile. Exhausted features and yet the most handsome man in your books. A spatula in your hand, music in the kitchen, and the hem of his collared shirt swaying over your thighs. It's poetically a dream. Something you wish to have, to do for as long as you're breathing.

  “Maybe next time?” You say with blushing cheeks. The utter embarrassment of talking about a secret lover in front of your crush had your mind blown into overdrive.

  The group exchanges looks. But they don’t push further, indulging in the rare moment of your silent, sunny smile and hoping that you’re happy with whoever's been showering you with affection.

  “Okay, maybe not fully Shakespearean roses,” Penelope interjects, reading a corny joke that had the entire group cringe and you laughing.

  The joy in your laughter is like Clair de Lune playing through sunset. Spencer imagines warm tea in his hand, a book on his lap, and your little giggles across as you flip a page of yet another cheesy romance novel. Sunlight along your most beautiful features, which he insists is all of you. The cozy oversized shirt he owns covers the softness of your skin. A simple thought and yet has his heart racing in sheer bliss.

  Spencer smiles into his action report. “Shakespearean roses…” He whispers in a chuckle, shaking his head at the idea.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

  The day comes to a close with excitement and heartwarming joy. 

  “See you later at 9! Don't be late.” Penelope waves at you as the doors slide closed.

  You chuckle at her antics but quickly find yourself in a small predicament, struggling to carry all the tokens of love you’d received from everyone.

  “Here, let me help.” 

  Your eyes meet his. And you think you're having a heart attack. But you make sure to smile kindly with a not-so-eager nod.

  “Thanks, Reid.”

  He flashes his signature smile, taking the tall bouquet from your hands. 

  You fight yourself from biting the lower of your lips at the sight of his hand clutching the stem without difficulty. So, you breathe gently and indulge in his warmth next to you.

  “Looks like you had a nice day,” Spencer starts tentatively, swaying on the balls of his feet as he hoists your favorite thing of the day.

  You turn to him with a hum and a gentle bounce of your shoulders. “I did. I feel loved.” You confess.

  Spencer hides his blushing ears. Is it so wrong to wish you always smiled at him like that? Does a lifetime sound too much to ask? 

  “That's great,” He nods casually, letting the other patrons jump in and out of the lift.

  The doors open on the last floor. Both of you walk side by side as you trickle out of the lift into the parking lot. It's not a rule. But somehow, you and he always parked in the lowest lot despite the vast parking spaces above.

  He continues the conversation on smaller tangents that make you giggle. How did your sessions today go? How was the new lunch place you went to? 

  And you throw back the same curiosity with an enthusiasm he admires. Did you finish all your reports? Did you enjoy your lunch stroll? 

  Spencer hands you the bouquet back as soon as you settle your things in the passenger seat of your car. “See you tomorrow?”

  You beam at him, and his eyes soften, “See you tomorrow, Sir Rumple.” You giggle, stealing a quick peck on his cheek.

  Before you can turn around, Spencer stills your hips and steals a similar kiss, albeit on the softness of your lips.

  The two of you giggle at the silence. Butterflies flutter with tickling speed in both of your stomachs. Maybe keeping your relationship private isn’t as bad as you’d imagine. 

  He opens the door for you and waits until you're comfortable in your seat. “I think I prefer Shakespearean Rose now.” You announce as he leans on your window.

  He playfully pouts, “But I love Sir Rumple better…” He twists his brows. The telltale sign of his gears turning. “Maybe I can be both?” He comprises.

  “You can be whatever pseudonym you want,” You smile at him. “You’re the only Spencer Reid I want.” 

  Spencer’s cheeks tint a shade of soft red. He leans and kisses your forehead.

  “Shakespearean Rose it is.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[slimmestofshady]

Bad Habits Kill You

Summary: The 90s in Detroit wasn’t exactly easy to live in with two kids and a boyfriend who redeveloped a bad habit.

Warnings: Drug Addiction, relapse, toxic relationship, abusive on both sides, accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, swearing, mention of smut, mention of drug dealing, breast feeding, robbery

6 calls, 13 text messages later and you found yourself driving home with your 3 year old daughter strapped in the carseat, livid that Marshall hadn’t picked up the phone. Working two jobs and trying to live life comfortably was becoming difficult as you felt like you were the only one here trying to keep the family afloat. This had been the fifth time this week you had to leave early and pick her up due to your boyfriend not showing up. Two write ups later with the check engine light on the car, hardly any gas in it and needing an oil change that you couldn’t afford you unbuckled her, carrying Ellie inside only to hear your newborn screaming once again.

Scoffing, you pushed open the broken screen door, the object squeaking when it was pressed back only to find Marshall’s blonde head fast asleep on the couch, a bowl of weed sitting right out on the rickety table next to Sara’s play pen.

“Mommy, why is daddy always tired? He never eats with us either.” You knew what this was, rehab hadn’t been working and it wasn’t just the sleeping pills he was taking. What were you supposed to say to her?

“Daddy’s just been very busy, why don’t you go play with your toys? Okay?” You smooched her on her delicate little head, ruffling her hair. A child at that young of age shouldn’t even have to ask those questions or ask why other kids have more than you did. Even in a relationship it felt like you were a single mother just trying to make ends meet. 

Picking up Sara from her crib you kneed him lightly in his side in irritation, causing him to moan and groan, mumbling something about being cold in the process. You kneed him again to which he turned around and shouted in his groggy state, his baby blues eyes dilated with dark circles shading his white skin.

“What?!” His temper was not in the slightest controlled, only pushing you farther past your limit of being civil or concerned for his well being.

“You were supposed to pick Ellie up, and do you hear that? That’s your other daughter crying to be taken care of which I can see you’re doing a great job at.” He clenched his jaw, folding his hands together, rubbing them. He got up, closing the distance between the both of you pointing an accusing finger directly in your face.

“I know how to be a fucking parent Y/N. Besides you’re one to talk, did Andre fuck you yet cause he been blowin up the phone all god damn day.” Taking Sara to her room, you rolled your eyes from having the same argument every fucking day while laying her in the crib, but he followed.

“At least he offers to watch the kids, more than you’ve ever fucking done! Tell me how many pills did you fucking pop today and don’t lie to me because I can see you’re clearly stoned. Fucking blanked out and shit.” You closed the door once you layed her down, refusing to argue with him in front of the kids but that didn’t mean they didn’t hear.

His hand wrapped around you arm pulling you back until you were pushed against the wall of the tiny hallway, giving you no personal space as he spat his venomous words.

The tensions was rising, only fueling your immense anger. This was the same old song and dance as every other fucking day. Why didn’t you leave? Well it’s easier said than done when you loved someone.

“I’m not fucking stoned babe I’ve been working on a new song and just fell asleep. Besides I don’t see you bringing any money so where you been if it ain’t work?” He pulled out a red piece of paper in his pocket with the words “EVICTION NOTICE”. Snatching the paper out of his hands, you noticed they only were giving you a week to pack your shit and get out due to being nearly three months behind on rent.

Scoffing you shoved the paper at his chest, trying to walk away but he didn’t let you shoving you back against the wall again.

“Marsh, don’t start your fucking shit okay?! I’ve been working my ass off but god forbid I work a full fucking shift because your ass has to be sat on this fucking couch, smoking dope and taking your fucking sleeping pills and xanax!” As he started cussing you out, you didn’t think before slapping him harshly across the face when he accused you of cheating once more based off the basis of no money coming in yet you’re always “at work.”

“What the fuck y/n! You don’t want to play this fucking game with me aight?!” Right before you could spit fire back, Ellie walked out of her room crying, causing you both to stop. She was just a child and didn���t ask or sign up for any of this. A sympathetic look of sorrow washed over Marshall and yourself the tension dwindling ever so slightly when you saw her teary, beading eyes, her cheeks reddened from the hostile situation.

With open arms, he picked her up cradling her against his chest as his hands rubbed her back gently.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Mommy and I will stop arguing okay?” You crossed your arms, huffing from this constant fighting but seeing how quick he was when he was awake to console her, and ensure those crybaby tears stopped was heart warming. He had the potential to be such a good dad if he would just set the drugs aside but maybe that was too much to ask.

“My-my tv is gone, all-all my stuff is gone!” With frantic eyes, you both pushed open the door to see the room a wreck, and multiple items missing. Some of her blankets on her bed, her stuffed animals gone, even her piggy bank that had nearly $500 in it. It had taken over a year to save it, in hopes of starting a fund for her when she was 18, and now it was just gone. 

You couldn’t hold back the tears, feeling like everything was just crumbling down. They flowed freely down your cheeks, Marshall noticing and trying to pull you in to his side with his other arm but you waved him off, walking into the bedroom and closing the door. How much more of this could you take? There were shootings at least once a week, you were barely able to afford food, living off food stamps that barely covered shit. Whenever it seemed to be going great or a little better than before, everything would just turn to shit.

As you slumped down onto the bed, you couldn't help but notice the bathroom light still open, the shattered mirror from the night before slightly ajar.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you walked into the room with a dreadful feeling, hoping you weren't right. Taking a deep breath, you opened the object only to find the 3 pill bottles completely empty with their lids off, how much shit did he fucking take.

There was a knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, but when you heard his voice asking if he could come in your blood boiled. When you didn't respond he pushed the door open, Sara no longer in his hands. When he saw you had found the empty bottles, he had a guilty look on his face but not remorseful.

There was a dead silence as you stood with your arms crossed shooting daggers his way.

"Tell me again that you're not fucking using. I'm not fucking stupid. How do you expect me to become closer with you when you can't even own your shit! This is getting old, and I don't know how much longer I can do this!" A switch like the atomic bomb flipped inside of him and he wasn't thinking before he pushed you on the mattress as you pounded against his chest, but you were never a match compared to his strength.

He folded his hands around the warmth of your neck, shaking you in place but not squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation.

"You don't know what it's like! Who the fuck are you to judge me huh? We're livin in this broke down piece of shit fuckin trailer, I'm tryin to fuckin write songs and start a good life for us, while you bring some dude around our fuckin kids when I'm not home, actin like you perfect, you ain't perfect either!" The tears welled in your eyes in a mix of emotions. He was right neither of you were but how did you get to this point. You had a plan, a good one, but everything kept getting taken away from you. It was like playing ring around the rosey but always falling down. You stared into his ocean eyes while sniffling when he finally released your neck.

"Fuck!" He screamed with profound irritation. You were both tired of fighting nearly every day, it was draining but the love was still there even if it was minuscule at times.

"Can you tell me truthfully I'm not being replaced by your fuckin' boss at work?" His eyes settled for a moment, just needing to know the truth.

"Marshall there is nothing there, nothing has happened. I'm just trying to find someone to watch the kids and I clearly have to even when I'm not home." A sorrowful look of hurt and guilt crossed over his face. You weren't wrong that he wasn't trustworthy to his own god damn kids and he wasn't wrong that you should've at least asked him about Andrei watching the kids. He was a private man, he didn't like strangers around the house let alone his kids.

As your breathing steadied, Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, allowing a singular tear to slip from his eye and land on your skin. He wanted to be better a father, a better boyfriend but it was so difficult during times like these.

"You need to get help baby..." A choked sob escaped you. You hated seeing him like this, he was better than this.

He had gone five months sober and when you noticed the signs he was using again you hadn't asked again after how irritable he was with you the first time, until today at least.

This wasn’t all on him though, the relationship issues anyway.

in his own head he felt there was no going forward, there was no escaping the impending, disastrous thoughts in his mind. The drugs soothed those intrusive thoughts, how could he lose himself inside his own head if he was asleep?

“I know, I know…” You both layed there for a moment in each others company. Neither of you calling the cops about the break in since they never seemed to actually do anything given where you lived.

“Maybe we should take the kids out for dinner or something, get Ellie’s mind off her things being gone.”

“Well how much do we got in the account?” You shook your head, sitting up and waving your hands up in the air with defeat.

“Not enough. I think altogether for the month we have around $120.” Fuck. He couldn’t do shit for his kids but somehow had enough money to get drugs? His mind twirled, the stress and realizing his priorities weren’t straight pressing an immense weight on his shoulders.

A thought crossed his mind of what if he started to sell only using every now and then? That would surely bring in money, especially around this neighborhood and keep you afloat for the time being but he didn’t say it.

He also had to worry about the kids. He refused to let them be homeless.

“Let’s take them we’ll figure it out. We aigh’t now?”

“Only if you promise me you’ll get help. I’m here to support you, okay?” Your hand caressed down his cheek as you stared into his baby blue hues, he nuzzled into your touch nodding before helping you out of bed.

Ellie was sat coloring with the crayons she still had on the living room floor wrapped in a blanket. That was another thing you were behind on, the fucking heat bill but that was a concern for another day. Luckly the electric and water seemed to still be on for the time being.

Marshall swooped her up in his arms peppering her face with loving kisses while ruffling her hair. He was always so good with her, such a caring dad and the sight made your heart melt. Moments like these made the fights seem almost pointless.

“Are you and mommy done fighting?” Her voice was so sweet and innocent, her small fist clenching and grasping at Marshall’s white shirt. The small gesture warning his heart. He just wanted his daughter to be happy.

“Yes baby. Daddy loves mommy we just have a lot going on, adult stuff you don’t need to worry about. Let’s get you and sissy some dinner, okay?” She nodded against him, perking up when he mentioned McDonald’s. It wasn’t the healthiest but it was affordable and it made her happy and that was all that mattered right now.

Passing her to you, Marshall went out to the car throwing a raggedy, old gray sweatshirt on before lighting a cigarette as he started the car. It took him about three times for the car to turn over, rickety old piece of shit, he was just grateful the heat was working for his angels. Checking the glove box, he ensured his gun was still there while a car passed by slowly, music blaring. He was skeptical of everyone and everything in this neighborhood, especially when something like today happens for the fifth time this year.

Pushing the door open, Marshall rushed to your aide to help Ellie down the stairs, avoiding the section with a nail sticking out of the wood while you carried Sara in your arms.

“Should we get gas?” You shrugged, nodding and informing him you still had work and Ellie had daycare to attend.

“How much we’re paying for that again?”

“Nearly $100 a month.” He hasn’t realized how expensive it was, scoffing and mentioning how the government expects people to live off minimum wage jobs and take care of their children.

Dinner seemed to be going smoothly, Ellie was making friends and playing in the play pin section of the restaurant while you and Marshall sat with Sara near the window in a close distance, sharing a milkshake while laughing over the memories of the past.

“Be careful sweetie!” Marshall yelled after Ellie noticing how close she was to slipping a falling off a plastic cube. She nodded to her dad, going back to her activity.

He couldn’t help but glance down at your tits, they’d gotten so big from the swelling of breast feeding. One of the things he loved that happened when you were pregnant. He bit down on his bottom lip intrigued, making a comment about how even after giving birth he still would take you right here right now over this table had their been no kids around.

Smacking him playfully with your cup, you giggled. It was about time she needed to be fed but before you could excuse yourself to the restroom, Ellie came up to have a drink break, not wasting a minute before she blurted out,

“Mommy, when is Andre coming over again? He likes to color with me and he talks about you a lot…” You we’re at a standstill for words, being left speechless by your toddler. Marshall’s jaw clenched, his hand forming a fist as he held his composure. He simply said, “Believe me now? Hows that for truth?” Ellie yanked on her dads sleeve, asking for a refill on her drink giving you the perfect way out of the situation.

“I’m going to feed Sara, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

“Yeah, aight. You do that.” Arriving home, the car ride was mostly silent. Marshall laid Ellie down in your bed as she fell asleep in the car, too worried about her being in her own room and the same for Sara moving her crib for the night near the back corner of your room where the light wouldn’t be in her face but she’d still be close.

While you were still in the living room changing laundry, he stumbled into the back of the closet, reaching for a small box that was hidden under a flap in the carpet, popping a pill or two in his mouth, rinsing them down with water from the sink.

He closed the door lightly to not wake either of your kids, walking out into the living room and not hiding that he was not in a good mood, slouching down into the couch.

“So when the fuck did you plan on telling me that he been coming over into my fucking house with my fucking kids? You didn’t even ask me.” You sighed, knowing that resurfacing the topic if anything to with Andre would end badly, especially after the comment Ellie made.

“It was only one time babe, you were out with your friends, I was working late, Nate was out of town. I didn’t exactly have a choice. Those things Ellie said, I understand you are upset but until we can find someone else I don’t know what you expect me to do or what we’re going to do come next week.” Closing the dryer, you accompanied him on the couch, not looking for a fight but a resolution, but he loved to fight.

“I don’t want some strange, douchebag guy that wants to sleep with my girl around my kids Y/N. Plain and simple. Don’t worry about next week I’ll figure it out.” The way he ended the sentence meant there was no room for any other decisions. He wouldn’t allow it and quite frankly he was ready to choke this bitch out and arrange a little meetup in an ally to beat the shit out of him “And I don’t want a boyfriend who is high all the damn time yet here we are. Your bad habit isn’t just killing you, it’s killing us.” Yeah maybe you were right but maybe his trust issues got in the way of that cause as far as he was concerned if he saw Andre or even heard about him being here again he was gonna call up some of his buddied and make him a dead man.

This constant back and forth bullshit was getting you nowhere and frustrating the every living fuck out of him.

“I promise you I’ll go into rehab again once we get this shit figured out. But you gotta promise he ain’t coming around our kids anymore, and tell him to get rid of this fuckin number.”

“ And I will okay? No more Andre. I promise.” He nodded still not believing this guy was going to leave you alone but for now he wanted to relax, the pills already taking effect and making him drowsy he just hoped you couldn’t tell. Trying to avert attention from himself, his hands grasped your thighs pulling you into his lap and caressing your ass cheeks making you giggle.

“What’re you doing?”

“What I cant feel my girl up? C’mon the kids are asleep. We could get in a round or two.” That would be nice and a big stress relief, you could already feel his large bulge growing beneath you, causing your pussy to throb in anticipation while you rolled your hips down against him before pulling your shirt off, revealing your breasts.

“What’re you waiting for then?” You leaned in closely to his ear, lips just brushing over the bottom lobe and biting playfully.

“Fuck me.”

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco - Epilogue

Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.

You’re having trouble breathing.

It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces. 

It’s terrifying. You’re terrified. 

“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?” 

“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.” 

“Okay… why are we hiding?” 

“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head. 

“You have to. You’re the artist.”

“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.” 

“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art. 

“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically. 

“You have to.” 

It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps. 

As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.

People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery. 

At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years. 

It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional. 

It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull.  Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes. 

There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense. 

“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?” 

Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name. 

Darling.

“It’s a love story.” 

The bar stool is one of the spinning ones. 

You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk. 

“You’re literally no fun.” 

“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?” 

“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet. 

“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?” 

How do you feel. 

“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.” 

“You sold a lot of paintings.” 

“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum. 

A wild dream turned reality. 

“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.” 

“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool. 

“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft. 

“I know.” 

“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been. 

Like she was, so reverently, by them. 

You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest.  But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave. 

She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them. 

Usually.

“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders- 

And a mohawk. 

Your heart trips over itself. 

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels. 

You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears. 

They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere. 

“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them. 

Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him. 

“Hi.” You breathe. 

“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile. 

Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. 

“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.” 

“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.

“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod. 

“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another. 

“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first. 

“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.” 

“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even. 

You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.  

“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?” 

“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there. 

“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods. 

“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“See ye soon, then.” 

“Okay. See you soon.” 

[hearts4renaa]

YOU'RE LOSING ME.

summary: how the love began to die out between you and them. featuring kamisato ayato, alhaitham, diluc, and zhongli. gn! reader (see a/n below) pt. 2 here w/c: 2.1k words in total a/n: inspired by the new vault track from midnights by taylor swift. meant to be a gender neutral reader but one of the lyrics i reference uses "her". otherwise, no pronouns used.

And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.

“I’ll be entering an arranged marriage to the daughter of another clan.” Ayato said matter of factly, as if it was as casual as discussing the weather. Today was the off day Ayato had free. He’s been so busy the past month that he barely has time for you. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you woke up together. He always slept late and woke up earlier than you. The affection was rarely there too; The usual loving kisses and cuddles were reduced to pecks on the cheek and pats on the arm. This was one of the rare times you were actually able to sit down with him. 

The air was tense, almost impossible to breathe in. What was supposed to be a romantic dinner quickly turned sour the moment Ayato announced a piece of news you never wanted to hear. “I’ll be meeting her in two weeks. I’m expecting the marriage ceremony to take place within the next three months or so.” He wasn’t looking at you, instead more focused on the food in front of him. Your chopsticks fall from your hands, the clatter piercing the silence between you two. Ayato looks at you, completely deadpanned. You take the moment to really, truly look at him. His expression was standoffish, and his eyes were dispassionate. Just where did that loving gaze go? “What?” He asks.

“Ayato, you can’t just expect me to be happy about this.” You huff in frustration, picking up your chopsticks and setting them down in a proper manner. “When you accepted the proposal, did you just forget about our relationship? About me?” 

Ayato rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re acting like I declared undying love for her. I’m simply doing what’s best for the clan, and for Inazuma as a whole.” He puts down his chopsticks as well, clearly not focused on eating anymore. “It’s not like I’m ending things with you. Marrying her opens many opportunities I can’t pass on.”

“You’re not ending things with me, but you’re just gonna go off and marry some girl?” Your heart broke a little more with every word. If someone were to listen closely, they could probably hear each individual crack. “Ayato, our relationship has already been wavering a little…you’re so busy. It’s like you just can’t fit me into your schedule.” Your eyes start to become glossy, and you need to swallow back your tears to fight against them falling. “How can I expect us to stay together when you need to make room for two spouses now? I thought love meant more to you than business did.” Your voice cracked with every syllable that fell from your lips.

Ayato stood up from his seat on the floor, adjusting his sleeves and beginning to make his way to the door. He slides it open before stopping in place. “Marrying her has a lot to offer.” He speaks, but he isn’t even looking at you.

“And I don’t?” You ask. You didn’t even know if you wanted the answer to that. Luckily for you, he didn’t answer at all. He looked back at you from over his shoulder. He takes a breath, and you feel as if he’s stealing the air straight out of your lungs. He turns his head back and sighs. He steps forward, leaving the room. 

The door shuts, and you are left in silence.

And I’m fading, thinking: Do something babe, say something.

With Alhaitham being appointed as Acting Grand Sage, it’s only natural that his workload for the Akademiya would increase. However, if there’s one thing that Alhaitham truly hates, it’s when unnecessary work piles up and begins to leak into his personal life, like a bucket overflowing with water. A work-life balance can only go so far before work begins to completely tilt the scale in its favor. Naturally, this takes away from time the two of you could spend together.

Normally, that would be completely fine with you. You knew Alhaitham was a busy man with a busy lifestyle. It’s completely reasonable for him to not throw aside his work just for you. Alhaitham always tries to make time for you, to show you his affection in small ways that don’t take up too much time. Either with tea he makes for you before he leaves for work, small trinkets that begin to appear on your bedside table, or a hushed declaration of love when he accidentally wakes you up when he rises early. But recently, his efforts have been slowly dwindling. You no longer wake up to the smell of tea. You no longer reach over to your nightstand in a sleepy haze, only to feel an object that was not there before. You no longer hear an “I love you” amongst the sound of your bedsheets ruffling in the early hours of the morning.

Of course, you noticed. So you took it amongst yourself to try and do something to express your love. You usually go to sleep before him, but here you are in the living room, waiting for him to return. It’s already quite late, and you fight back a yawn every twenty minutes or so, but you’re determined to stay awake to greet him. The smell of his favorite food wafts in from the kitchen, and you smile while thinking of his reaction. You might not be a Michelin star chef, but you pour love into everything you make him.

Finally, the door opens, and there he is. His eyes are tired, and an annoyed expression is etched onto his face. “Hey, honey.” You shoot up from your seat to greet him at the door. His head snaps in your direction slightly, not expecting you to still be awake. He lets out a little grunt as a response. You can tell he’s in a bad mood, but you keep pushing. “You’re home late.” You state before realizing how you pointed out the painfully obvious.

“I always am.” His voice is monotone, cold. He walks straight past you, barely even sparing you a glance.

Your hope begins to falter, but you try again. “Are you hungry? I made you dinner.” You reach your hand out to lightly touch his. He pulls his hand away with no hesitation. You feel the familiar sting deep in your stomach, and you try your best to ignore it. You clear your throat as if to rid the moment of his past action before speaking again. “Then, maybe we could eat together-”

He groans aloud. “Can you just be quiet?” He snaps. His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t filled with love or hate. It was indifference, and in all honesty, that hurt so much more. “I’m exhausted. The last thing I need today is you nagging me.” 

You falter, as if you were shrinking away in a desperate attempt to try and disappear. “Right.” Your voice is quiet, meek. “Of course.” You turn away to walk into the kitchen, and you hear your shared bedroom door slam shut. You sit at the dinner table, gazing at the untouched meals on the opposite ends. Your hand moves to touch the spoon and stir it around in the food, but any outsider could tell that you have no intention of eating a single bite. 

For the rest of the night, you sit there alone as the food goes cold.

Lose something babe, risk something. (You’re losing me.)

If there’s one thing Diluc strives to do, it’s protect you. He lost his father already, he can’t risk losing you too. It brings him peace to know that you’re safe at Dawn Winery, away from things that can bring you harm. But even though he is protective, it’s not as though he keeps you locked inside the house. He knows of your adventurous spirit and he would never want to hurt you. However, he has a habit of being a little paranoid. The people of Mondstadt are aware of your relationship, but he rarely lets the two of you be seen together. He prefers things quite private, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it.

You just returned from a small commission; it’s been ages since you’ve done one. It felt so refreshing to wield your weapon and go on a mini adventure! Even if it was just a few slimes near Windrise, the experience was one you haven’t had in far too long. You end up with a small cut on your hand, but you look at it in pride as you walk back to the winery. You open the heavy door, and you’re met with the face of your lover.

“Y/N, where were you?” Diluc’s question is loud, his voice laced in concern. A second barely passes, and he’s already by your side. He catches sight of your hand and cages it in his larger ones. “Why is your hand hurt?”

You shake him off lightly, heading to the couch to set your things down. “I took a small commission.” You explain. “Just a little group of slimes. My hand got cut, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about it!” You attempt to reassure him, but the crease in his eyebrows doesn't go away.

“Y/N, how many times have I told you?” Diluc scolded. He folds his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to take commissions. I provide for us enough already.”

Your eyes roll before you can stop them. You can feel your frustration rise inside you. “I didn’t take the commission for the money, Diluc.” You huff at him. “I wanted an adventure, even if it was a small one. It’s the experience I wanted.”

Diluc scoffs. “Oh, so getting hurt is an enjoyable experience for you?” Diluc never had the most friendly tone, but you’d have to be truly clueless to miss the sarcasm weaved into his words.

“By the Seven, Diluc, it was a cut!” You exclaim. “All of this over a cut?”

He looks you in the eyes. “You know I just want you to be safe.”

Your eyes softened slightly, biting your lip. “But Diluc, you play it too safe sometimes.” You grab your weapons and bag again, adjusting your jacket before heading towards the door. Despite just getting home, you felt the need to get away, to cool off. Maybe to kill some other monsters, you weren’t sure.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Out.” You respond curtly. You weren’t sure of your destination, but you didn’t care. You just needed to be away from him.

“Y/N-“ He called out. You cut him off by slamming the heavy winery doors.

Choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.

“I love you.” Zhongli murmured, knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping his pole arm. He towered over you, who was on the ground in a pool of blood. The metallic smell was hard to ignore. “I love you, I truly do. And I always will.”

You laugh bitterly. “You love me, and you caused my injury.” You use your hand to weakly gesture towards your torso. “Some love you have…”

Zhongli grips his weapon even harder. He digs the heels of his feet into the group as an effort to ground himself. He knew that if he were to take a single step, he’d run to you, and he’s not sure if he can stop himself. He takes a breath to calm himself, and every breath of air he breathes makes him wish he could breathe that same life into you instead. “It’s for my nation.” He says as calmly as he can. Oh, how he wished he could run to you, kiss you, and heal you. He continues with bated breath. “You know I cherish my nation.”

You cough, blood splattering out. “More than you cherish me?” You ask weakly. “More than you cherish us?”

Zhongli’s eyes soften with sadness. “Yes…more than I cherish you, my love.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit you like a truck. You’re so tired. So, so tired. You voice out your thoughts. “I’m exhausted, Zhongli.” Your voice is weak, along with your body.

“I’m sorry.” He says before facing away from you. He can’t bear to look at you in this state. He can’t bear to see what he’s done to you. He takes slow steps away, using all his willpower to not turn around and run to your side.

“I love you, Zhongli.” You call out.

He takes one final look. “I love you too, dearest.”

A sad, soft smile etches itself onto your face. Your eyelids droop, and eventually, they flutter closed. Zhongli stares at you sadly. His weapon drops to the ground, making a loud clatter. The silence is deafening. He peers at your lifeless body before closing his eyes. “You’ll always be my favorite story.” He whispers.

A single tear falls from his eyes.

[yunhoszn]

horses are still overrated

pairing jeong yunho x f!reader word count 2k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, mentions of voyeurism, dirty talk, marking-ish, mutual masturbation, kissing, slight cum eating shhhhh don’t say anything, pet names: baby, babe, princess

summary new relationships always have room for experimenting, and well, you and yunho are no exception.

more ok so i tried doing these in ask format but i didn’t like it so we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming with a little update :P anyway,, this was for this request! it’s meant to be an extension of save a horse, ride a cowboy but can totally be read as a standalone! i kinda strayed from the initial req, but i hope this is still good… it’s still yunho day so <3 ALSO @bro-atz thank u for betaing my love i appreciate u so big!! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

The few weeks that have passed since you and Yunho have confessed to each other have been nothing short of blissful. 

He makes you feel like you’re soaring, ensuring that your happiness is the top priority. He embraces you in a way that’s not only physical, but emotional too. Like his feelings for you are their own special hug of warmth that envelopes you when you need it most. You could never get tired of him, could never return to your life back home like this summer never happened. 

Because in all honesty, this summer was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

You have a small smile on your face as you reminisce about the wonderful time you’ve spent here so far, leaning back into the bench on the farmhouse porch. Initially, you were sitting here to openly gawk after Yunho as he rounded up the cattle, but now you were too giddy to pay attention to that. You don’t notice him walking towards you directly, Yeoreum tailing behind him. 

“What’s got you so cheesy today?” 

You blink at his question, feeling a bit bashful. You’ll never get used to this view. “I was just thinking about us, and how happy you make me.”

“That’s cute,” he mirrors your expression, one hand on the back of the bench to hold his weight and the other coming up to cup your jaw, lips pecking yours gently. “Ready for dinner?”

“I have a confession to make,” you start as you’re washing the dishes after dinner. 

“What’s up?” Yunho asks you from the other side of the kitchen, putting away the leftovers. He shuts the refrigerator and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. You swallow thickly. 

“I’ve just had this on my chest for so long and I need to get it off before I explode,” you ramble, avoiding his eyes as you scrub a plate. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise,” he chuckles, and you can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. “I won’t judge you.”

Your sigh comes out as more of a shudder, Yunho’s arms wrapping around your middle and his chin resting on your shoulder. The new proximity makes you ten times more nervous to say your piece, your heart beating erratically behind your rib cage. This is fine. This is great actually. (No it’s not!)

“Do— um— do you remember the day before Seojun and I broke up?” Your hands are trembling slightly. 

“When you gave Yeoreum a bath, right?” He nods, the movement bothering you slightly because it has his chin digging into your shoulder uncomfortably. “What about it?”

”So…” You have to pause the dishes, your hands clamming up so much that you think the handle of your sponge will fly out of your grasp. “That night, when my lightbulb went out, I actually went out to go grab you. But— uh— I saw something… else… instead…”

Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely too mortified to even think about what his reaction could be. It’s been a minute since the ordeal played out, so really you didn’t have to say anything. Part of you felt like you couldn’t continue this relationship in good conscience without being totally honest, though. 

Strong hands wrap gently around your wrists, turning you around to face him. He tsks, “Open your eyes, princess.”

His eyes are soft, no hint of disappointment or disgust on his features as he stares back at you. His lips curl into a smug smile after a couple seconds, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. You blink at him, a little confused by the shift in atmosphere, but not complaining. 

“You’re not—?” 

“You watched me fuck my fist, is that right?” Yunho asks so bluntly, so vulgarly. “Tell me, what did you do after that?”

It’s easy to divert your gaze again, focusing on how interesting the material of his button up suddenly is. It’s one thing to admit that you stood there and watched for a bit, it’s another to admit you stuffed yourself with your own fingers not even fifteen minutes later. But you think he already knows that, based on your behavior and some good ol’ context clues. 

“I… I touched myself,” you whimper, ashamed of how you’re getting turned on. The worst part is the fact that he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying the way he has you folding for him so quickly. “To the thought of you…”

Yunho’s grip on your chin tightens and his eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot…”

You weren’t sure how this would go, and a piece of you genuinely thought he might even end things with you. Any other person would think you were sick and perverted, but not him. It makes you feel a lot better and a lot more secure in your relationship. 

Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, grazing the pad of his thumb. He hisses, cursing under his breath, letting you wrap your lips around and suck the finger. Yunho stares with not a single coherent thought behind his eyes. He’s losing his composure, pressing his thumb down on your tongue. 

“Do you think you can tell me? How exactly did you touch yourself?” He purses his lips, his free hand slipping into the opening of your overalls, dragging his finger along the exposed skin of your waist. You shake your head with a whine.

”Yun… That’s embarrassing…” 

He pulls his hand out of your overalls, hooking the digit into your belt loop and yanking you closer. His mouth is dangerously near your own, lips brushing yours when he speaks. “I wanna know. Need to picture my pretty princess fucking herself desperately ‘cause her fingers aren’t enough to get her off.”

Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenching around nothing just by his words alone. Yunho had always done such a good job at being the sweet and doting partner everyone wanted. He was attentive, praised you like you were a living, breathing goddess. But this dirty side of him is different. And you like it a lot more than you should.

“O-Okay…” You swallow thickly, and suddenly he’s spinning you so his chest is to your back. He urges you towards the bedroom, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking the supple skin gently, tenderly.

”Go on,” he says between kisses, still pushing you until you’re standing in the middle of his room. Your eyes already feel heavy and you haven’t done anything yet. “Tell me.”

”I— um— I thought about your hands and how big they are,” your tone is shaky, and you hope you don’t sound stupid. “Thought about how good it would feel to have them all over me. I pictured that it was your fingers inside of me. Imagined your cock, and how big it is.”

“Is that so? I’m just not getting the visual, babe. I think I need you to show me.” He hums, a hint of amusement in his voice. As if this couldn’t get more embarrassing, now he wants you to finger yourself in front of him? You’re about to protest, but he’s pressing your lower back to the mattress and talking against the corner of your mouth again, teasing you because he knows he can. “If you’re good for me, I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t be able to forget the shape of my cock.”

You nod with a whimper, hopping onto the bed and scooting all the way up to the pillows. Your hands are wobbly as you undress yourself, unbuckling your overalls and kicking them off your feet. Of course you chose the worst day to dress the part. Yunho sits at the edge, watching you with an unreadable expression. 

When you’re in nothing but your top and panties, he clears his throat, leaning back onto his palms. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Move your underwear to the side for me, princess. Let me see your pretty pussy.”

It’s almost impossible to hold back a moan, following his instructions. You glide your middle finger through your folds, showcasing how you’re practically dripping for him in the amount of time it’s taken you to get from the kitchen to here. He exhales through his nose, legs spreading to give you a glimpse of an uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants. 

You sigh deeply at the sight, circling your finger around your clit slowly. The thought of being the cause behind it, of getting Yunho so hot and bothered, drives you crazy and has you curling your toes. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, tossing his denim button up to the floor. He palms over his erection, tilting his head slightly. “Can you do some more for me?”

“Mhm,” is all you can manage to force out, doing what he asked. You shove your ring and middle fingers inside of yourself, finally releasing a moan at the intrusion. You keep pressure on your clit with the heel of your palm. There’s silence between you save for the occasional whine.

Yunho shivers, shimmying out of his pants so he can stroke himself freely. You gawk at him with bated breath, biting your lip as your fingers pick up their pace. There’s a knot that settles in the pit of your stomach, tightening and tightening in preparation for that special moment. 

The view of him spread out in front of you, fucking up into his hand with hooded eyes trained on your own playing with your cunt, is too much. He’s wearing that same godforsaken white tank top as he was the night you saw him, the muscles in his forearm and bicep flexing with each twist of his wrist, each pump of his cock. 

You feel like you’re drooling, ogling at him like he was a piece of meat. But you couldn’t help it. Yunho was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. The longer you stare, the further you fall. That’s a conclusion you’ve come to a little too late. 

“‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, head almost clunking against the headboard. “Wanna cum with you.”

“I’m almost there, too, baby,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he runs his thumb over his slit. That has a loud whine spilling from your lips, your feet digging into the mattress. You don’t know how much longer you can last. 

Your fingers try to reach that spongy, sensitive spot deep in your cunt, but you can’t. It seems that only Yunho’s long, thick fingers could accomplish that feat. No wonder you were so obsessed with his hands.

You opt for using the fingers of your free hand to swipe quickly at your clit while the others curl and thrust into you, inching you toward that steep cliff that has stars decorating your vision. Judging by the volume of his sounds getting higher and higher, you can tell Yunho’s right there with you. 

One particular absentminded curse from him has your brain short circuiting, that promise of release washing over you almost violently. Your body aches and quivers, orgasming harder than you ever had just with your own hand. (You’d like to think the presence of a certain cowboy had everything to do with it.)

He groans and follows behind shortly after, painting his hand in milky white. The two of you try to catch your breaths, laying there for a couple moments to recuperate. After a while, Yunho leans over to kiss you gently, squeezing your cheeks with his cum covered hand. You scrunch your nose. 

“You’re getting it on my face!”

“That was the goal,” he laughs, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You roll your eyes, licking away whatever was near your mouth. He groans again. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me? Purposely?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I remember being told you’d fuck me if I did good for you. Where’s my reward?”

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.