#not because of their words but because of their actions

[engstlersslut]

Take It Out On Me│ E. Engstler

pairing: emily engstler x reader genre: fluff, smut warnings: 18+ material word count: 1.8k summary: with the stress of the season weighing on her, emily has been in a mood and you let her take her frustration out on you

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

With back-to-back losses for the Mystics and the lack of playing time, to say Emily had been frustrated would be an understatement. She'd come home from practice every day, exhausted and even more moody than the day before. Slamming cabinets and doors, sluggishly moving through her evening routines, being short during conversations, setting things down with more force than necessary. It was evident in her actions and every breath she took. Nothing you said or could say seemed to improve her mood. At a loss, you tried to just give her some space, but when that didn't seem to help either, you decided to try and talk to her about it again.

"Em?" You spoke softly from where you were cuddled into her side on the couch. "Are you okay?"

She had been quiet since she returned home from another long day of practice. Dinner was eaten in a tense silence and after that, you both settled in the living room to watch TV before bed, still not speaking much.

"I'm fine, babe." She responded, trying to hold back a heavy sigh and failing.

"Are you sure?" You pried gently, attempting to coax her into letting you in on her feelings.

"Yes. Now could you stop asking and just watch the show?" She snapped at you, causing you to release a sigh of your own.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, shaking her head and adjusting her position to lean forward, elbows resting on her knees. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine." She argued. "You didn't deserve that."

"You're frustrated. I get it." You empathized, running a gentle hand down her back. "I just want you to talk to me."

"I'm just frustrated as hell." She huffed. "We've lost every game so far and I'm busting my ass every day at practice only to be a benchwarmer. I'm trying to be a supportive teammate, and I really am proud of the hard work everyone is putting in despite all of the setbacks, but it sucks."

"I know." You nodded.

"I'm trying my best to stay level-headed, but I just have so much pent-up stress and I need to blow off some steam. I just don't know how."

"Take it out on me, then."

"What?" She turned her head to look back at you where you rested against the couch.

"Take it out on me. Use me to let out some of that stress and frustration." You shrugged as if it was no big deal, which to you it wasn't.

"How?"

"How do you think?" You gave your best seductive smirk as you stood from the couch and stripped off your shirt. Tossing it at your dumbfounded girlfriend, you began to slowly step backwards towards the direction of your shared bedroom. "Only if you're up for it."

"Don't start something you can't handle." She spoke, the look in her eyes darkening as she, too, stood from where she sat.

"Who says I can't?" You cocked your head in challenge, a teasing glint in your eyes as she stepped closer.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked as you now stood chest-to-chest. One of her tattooed hands trailed up to wrap around your neck, applying light pressure. "Because I can't promise I'll be gentle."

"Do your worst."

Those three words were all she needed to hear before her lips crashed down on yours eliciting a breathy moan from you. Her tongue immediately found its way into your mouth at the given opportunity, initiating a battle for dominance, which she easily won. After a few moments of roughly, yet passionately, making out, she pulled away.

"Go to the bedroom and strip." She whispered, lips brushing yours as she spoke. "I want you on the bed and naked when I get in there." Nodding, you pulled out of her embrace and turned to make your way to the room.

You weren't sure how long you waited in anticipation, but it felt like ages before she finally appeared, a cup of water in hand. Her eyes held a predatory gaze as she made her way around to her side of the bed, keeping her eyes on you as she placed the cup on the nightstand. Without a word, she turned around, finally breaking the intense eye contact, and disappeared again. She quickly emerged from your walk-in closet holding a black box. Setting it to the side, she grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the end of the bed.

"Fuck," She let out breathlessly as she dropped to her knees at the foot of the bed, examining the wetness between your thighs. "The things you do to me."

You let out a quiet gasp as she ran her thumb along your slit gently, collecting some of your arousal before putting her thumb in her mouth and releasing moan at the taste.

"Look at how wet you are, baby." She said as she swiped her index finger through your folds and raised it to show you.

Grabbing her hand, you brought it to your mouth to taste yourself. You held her gaze as you sucked on her finger, moaning as you did so. With a low groan rising from her throat, she yanked her hand away and moved to throw your legs over her shoulders. With a death grip on your thighs, she dove in, devouring you.

Her pace was fast and sloppy but so, so good. Her tongue teased your entrance while her nose nudged your clit. She had you seeing stars in no time. She'd barely started yet you were already teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night. Moving her mouth back up to suck on your swollen clit, she lifted her hand and sunk two of her long fingers in without any warning. The loud moan you let out had her smirking against you.

"That's it, baby." She cooed up at you. "Be loud for me. Let everyone know how good I make you feel." Her words encouraged another loud moan from you. "Good girl."

"I-I'm close, Em." You panted through your moans, back arching off the bed. "Please don't stop."

She didn't say anything in response but she didn't need to. Her actions said it all when she fastened her pace, bending and twisting her fingers, effortlessly finding that soft, spongy spot inside of you that sent you over the edge. Hand flying down to hold her head in place as she sucked your clit back into her mouth, you let out a sound that bordered on a scream as the bubble that had formed in you finally burst. She slowed her pace to help you ride out your high before finally coming to a stop and pulling away.

You felt your body melt into the mattress as you came down, chest heaving with every deep breath you took. Your eyes drifted to Emily as you lay there, body already spent, watching as she finally stripped down out of her own clothes.

"Like what you see, ma?" She smirked at you with a wink, grabbing the black box she had set aside.

"Always." You smiled back at her flirty remark, watching her movements intently as she pulled out her strap and vibrator.

"What's your color?" She asked as inserted her vibrator and put on the strap.

"Green." You replied.

"Good."

Climbing onto the bed and settling between your thighs, she leaned forward to connect her lips with yours. Distracting you with a fierce and passionate kiss, she turned on the vibrator and slowly sank into you. As the last inch pushed in, you broke the kiss and threw your head back against the pillows. With the combination of the vibrations and the fullness that you felt, you were already reeling from the pleasure.

You moaned in unison as she began to thrust into you, pace quickly turning brutal. Leaning down until her chest met yours, she attached her lips to yours again before making her way down. She stopped once her lips met your neck, biting, kissing, and sucking, surely leaving marks.

"Baby," You moaned, hand tangling in her hair that was falling out of her ponytail. "I-I think I'm gonna come."

"Hold it." She ordered.

"I c-can't." You whimpered, unshed tears blurring your vision.

"Yes, you can." She grunted, hips slamming into yours harder. "Be a good girl and hold it for me. I'm almost there."

Your body writhed beneath her as you both panted and moaned at the intense feelings. Your hands scraped down her back, legs locking around her waist.

"Em, please." You begged, after a few more harsh thrusts. "I can't hold it anymore."

"Okay." She panted. "Come for me." That was all she needed to say as you arched up into her, hands gripping her biceps. Loud moans filled the room as you both let go.

Emily pulled out soft and slow as your body fell limp against the bed. She soon joined you after removing her strap and vibrator. Your chests rose and fell in unison as you both tried to catch your breath. The room was comfortably quiet as you lay there, hands finding each other before intertwining.

After a few minutes of basking in the aftermath of the events that had taken place, Emily got up and walked into the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. You could hear her moving around and then the sound of water running. After about ten minutes, she returned and scooped you up into her arms.

"What are you doing?" You asked head resting on her shoulder.

"I drew us a bath."

She set you down in the warm water before climbing in behind you and pulling your back to rest against her chest. Her hands ran through your hair gently and as she relaxed with you in her arms.

"Was I too rough?" She asked, a content sigh leaving her lips and the remaining tenseness in her muscles melted away.

"No," You replied. "You were perfect." She hummed in response.

"Thank you." She spoke softly, eyes shut and head leaned back to rest of the edge of the bathtub.

"For what?"

"For supporting me. For always finding ways to make me feel better. For loving me."

"You don't have to thank me for any of those things, babe." You shook your head as best as you could with her hands still tangled in your hair. "That's what I'm here for. I would do absolutely anything for you, whether you asked me to or not."

"I know, but I feel like I don't express my gratitude enough. You put up with a lot from me and I am beyond grateful for you." She leaned down, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders. "I really got lucky with you."

"I think I'm the lucky one here." You smiled at her loving words and gestures. "You are an amazing human being and an even more amazing girlfriend. I love you so much it hurts."

"Well, I love you more." She nipped at your ear playfully.

"Doubtful." You replied.

"Is that a challenge?" She chuckled as she flicked water at the side of your face. "If so, I'm prepared to win."

"I wouldn't expect any less." You giggled at her antics.

"Good." She smiled before crashing her lips onto yours.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

a/n: this is my longest fic yet. also, it's my first time writing smut EVER (or at least attempting to), so bear with me.

#emily engstler #emily engstler smut #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler imagine #washington mystics #wnba #wnba basketball #isa.writes

[linamromero]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐥𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚 𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 - 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.

...

it happened again.

the team won the la liga for the season again. It was even better because your girlfriend alexia made her comeback after being out for nearly 10 months from a nasty knee injury.

you and alexia were celebrating on the way back to the changing room, clinging on to the trophy her hand on one handle and yours on the other, "nosotras somos las campeonas!”

"mi amiga!" patri sang the next lyric so she played the queen song on the speaker.

alexia pulled your body close to hers swaying to the music, you buried your face into her neck placing light kisses every once in a while, "amor!”

"sí?" you hummed sending vibrations through her body.

"i don't want to stay out late tonight, we can celebrate at home." alexia whispered stroking your hair.

"how would you like to celebrate at home?" you smirked playing dumb.

"i think you know." she murmured in your ear.

"venga lovebirds, have a beer!” mapi handed you both a bottle of estrella from her cubby.

"valé valé valé!" alexia put her hands up before taking her sweaty match shirt off.

you could help but stare a little too long before taking your own shirt off. the team sang and danced for a while before you decide to go home and get dressed up to go to manuelas.

you both got into alexia’s car and managed to get out of the car park before being swarmed by fans. the both of you took photos and signed items before leaving the premises.

once you got home, alexia went straight upstairs into your shared bedroom changing for a shower, “y/n cariño are you showering with me?”

"sí claro, stupid question bonita but we can't be long i promised patri i would pick her and piña up." you called up stair well.

"valé!”

you rushed into the master bedroom taking your shorts and sports bra off as you were eager to get to alexia. she was in the shower facing the wall you thought she looked good from behind. her ass is incredible.

you opened the glass shower door, she didn't even turn around so you approached her holding her hips, grabbing her bum lightly, "hola bonita." she greeted you.

you hummed in response kissing over her neck and across her left shoulder, you brought her arm up kissing all the way down her arm and down her hand to her index finger. alexia tilted your chin up to look at her in the eyes, bringing you close to her face connecting her lips with yours.

no words were shared, just through actions.

you managed to wash each other without getting too carried away, "can you pass me my towel amor?"

the midfielder wrapped a towel around you and her own around herself walking back into the master bedroom. you decided to dry and straighten your hair, leaving your natural freckles to sprawl themselves across your face only applying a little bit of mascara.

finally you decided to wear some caramel dress trousers and a white vest top paired with your dior high tops, gold rolex, cartier bangle and chunky rings.

your girlfriend decided on a black crop top with extra ties and a matching black ruched skirt. she left her hair looking wet pushed back out of her face, alexia put light eyeshadow on with lashes and a red lip, "what jewellery shall i wear?"

"definitely gold so maybe your hoops and the gold rolex i got you." you suggested, which she agreed putting them on.

"and my shoes?"

"your red jordans 100%." you implied.

"you have such good taste, i know i can count on you." alexia smiled kissing your lips lightly.

"ale!" You groaned.

"que?"

"you got your lipstick on me." she wiped your lips with her finger, "no kissing me all night."

"but y/n, that's gonna be so hard you look so good." alexia smirked.

“you’re just gonna have to behave."

"i will try my hardest ." alexia raised a brow grabbing her bag.

...

after the couple picked up patri and piña they drove to the open air restaurant, their head coach had invited the team out for a celebratory dinner.

of course they were the first of the players to arrive, alexia was always good with her timing, arriving first to everything.

"hola bona nit.” each of the greeted.

"sit, sit." he pointed at the rather long table.

you and alexia sat near the head of the table as the staff sat next to jonatan who was at the end with patri and piña sitting opposite you. once everyone arrived jonatan handed your girlfriend the trophy placing it in between you both.

"mi reina." You mumbled into alexia's ear, a smile appeared upon her lips.

"mi querida." she looked at you with loving eyes.

everyone had eaten and drinks were flowing, you were finishing third estrella whereas your girlfriend was finishing her fourth strawberry daiquiri. mapi danced over to the table with a large jug of sangria, "let's get this party started!"

you all cheered, mapi filling fresh wine glasses to the brim with the beverage. you placed your hand on alexia's bare thigh making her flinch at the coldness of your rings, "lo siento."

she brushed her thumb over your knuckle reassuring you that she was fine.

jonatan told everyone to grab a photo with the trophy in which you all did, "campeonas! campeonas !" cata and mapi started shouting dancing around with her flag that she bought with her.

eventually you all floated off to manuelas which you were looking forward to. As soon as you entered, you were stamped with a 'manuelas' tattoo and lots of stickers.

you got the love was playing a slowish song so you dragged your girlfriend to the dance floor slinging her arms around your neck. slowly dancing and singing the lyrics with your teammates.

she span her body around as antes de morirme started playing guiding your arms around her waist, you pulled her hips colliding them with yours. her skirt began to ride up as she grinded her backside into your crotch, “cariño."

she looked up at you with an innocent look on her face, "si mi amor?"

"i said behave." you bit your lip.

"i am not using my lips though am i?" alexia winked at you knowing that she was teasing you.

"bathroom. ahora." you grunted in her ear.

you got to the bathroom, other women were hooking up by the basins so alexia lead you into a cubical. you pushed her up against the door, exploring her exposed body in the limited space you had.

she returned the favour, flipping your body over onto the door, pulling your straps of your vest top down taking it off with your bra. alexia attached her lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at it moving down to your breasts, "ale."

she just looked at you innocently, "you want this right?"

you nodded in response and she set to work taking your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it adding a light suction. At this point alexia's lipstick had smeared all over your body but you were too busy to care.

"ale! y/n!" a voice called from outside the cubicle, of course it was ana.

her voice pulled you out of the messy fog, "yes what?"

"if your gonna have sex, go home." she yelled as you quickly put your clothes on and opened the door.

“how did you know?" alexia furrowed her eyebrows.

"look at the state of y/n for a start!” your body was absolutely covered in alexia's lipstick.

"ah well i-."

"save it, just go home i've ordered you an uber and pick your car up in the morning." ana said leaving the bathroom.

"gracias ana!" you pulled a face as you left the club.

"we can continue this at home, mi reina." you smirked getting in the taxi.

#woso #alexia putellas #futfem #barcelona femeni #woso community #alexia x reader #fcb femení #espwnt #woso x reader #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #alexia #la reina #alexia putellas x reader #woso oneshot

[xxsunoosprincess]

Hi! How are you doing? I love your writing btw, you’re definitely one of my favourite writers 🙈

I don’t know if anyone has asked this yet, but enha legal line + aftercare?? What they’d do, how they’d act kind of thing? Maybe even how they’d like to be taken care of? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to do this 🤗

hi hi!! I’m a little sick rn but doing good because I’m finally done with school >:3 also u make me blush sweet anon… I’m glad my stuff makes you happy!! sorry it took a minute to get around to this but I’m indulging in some softer stuff while I sniffle away in bed :,) thanks for the request!!

Enhypen and Aftercare (OT6)

pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, mentions of sex but not pure smut, fem bodied!reader

Heeseung

His face contorts into an expression halfway between pain and pleasure as he slow lying inches his sensitive length out of you, a breathless “hahh” escaping him as he shivers, collapsing onto you. It pulls an unexpected grunt out of you, followed by a series of giggles as he borrows into your neck, huffs of hot air tickling your sensitive skin.

“What the fuck” he whines out. You feel his hands squeeze your hips “your pussy is crazy”. The seriousness in his voice has you caught between a belly laugh and a faux scandalized gasp, swatting his ass gently as you scold him for such crude words. “I’m serious! You. Your body. You’re just perfect…” small pecks between each word, sleepy yawns, and a dopey heeseung clinging to you like a koala. Has fallen into the routine of fucking you before bed, claims it’s “the only way I can sleep now. Need you so bad”, and it might just be true because you can already feel the gentle vibrations of his snores against your collarbone.

Jay

Don’t play rn Jay is literally the embodiment of doting aftercare. The routine is locked and mf loaded. After he bullies your cunt until it’s sore and you are sure you can’t walk, this pillow talk starts. This part is just as much for you as it is for him, because he doesn’t think he could walk right now either. Promises of a future together, a catch-up on how your days have been, chats about if you liked the newest thing he introduced to your romp in the sheets. Just hearing your sweet voice cut through the quiet of night is enough to reground him (plus, he really does care about what you have to say).

I think he’s a little lazy with clean up, keeps a pack of wet wipes at the bedside table to give you both a once over, makes a half-promise to shower with you in the morning, and then rolls over to spoon you, peppering light kisses down your neck as your naked bodies intertwine to watch an episode of your guys’ favorite tv show. To Jay, aftercare is just as intimate as the actual sex. Unintentionally romantic in every way.

Jake

He’s the one that needs the most extensive aftercare, and come on, doesn’t he deserve it? He will eat you out for hours until you are kicking and squealing and prying him away by his hair. He will fuck into you from behind like it’s his sole purpose on his earth. And when all is said and done, he can hardly talk, slipping between English and Korean as he mumbles out a mix of curses and “so good, princess, so good”.

We wants you to play with his hair, curling up into your chest and peppering light kisses across your skin. He won’t admit how his heart skips a beat when you coo out a soft “good boy” to him, instead, he playfully bites you in retaliation. He won’t say anything about it, though. He loves the extra soft treatment, it’s like a reward for pushing himself to his limits to make you feel good.

Sunghoon

He’s such an angel. He’s sweeping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. It doesn’t matter how big you are, he insists on carrying you because you are his baby (“you know, I don’t lift all those weights for nothing” cue the cheesy flexing). Lets you soak in the shower for a bit while he changes the sheets and prepares pajamas for you. Big believer in actions speak louder than words.

“Was I too rough on you today?” he pouts, slipping into the shower after finishing his post-coital rounds and eyeing the redness that has stuck around on the meat of your ass. No amount of reassurance of you liking it will erase the worried expression, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line. The only thing that makes him stop, makes him burst out into laughter and splash water at you, is the promise you make to spank him next time around.

Sunoo

I’m sorry but he is definitely crying afterwards. Y’all know I’m not on the babygirl Sunoo agenda all the time, but this is something I’m absolutely positive about. He’s just so overwhelmed with emotion, so happy that you trust him to see you in such a vulnerable state, so happy to be with you, so in love with you, the tears are forming in his eyes the moment he watches you reach your finish underneath him. “My pretty girl” sniffle sniffle “you’re so- fuck- so gorgeous”. Doesn’t matter how long you have been together, there is about a 50% chance of tears every time you guys fuck.

He tends to get embarrassed about crying like that so please give him lots of reassurance :(. Gets a little shy and whiny at vocalized praise, but loves gentle back rubs and showers together. Let him wash and dry you, he likes to feel like he is taking care of you just as much as you take care of him <3.

Jungwon

I’m sorry he’s so silly and sweet after. Needs to make you laugh after an intense moment. Eases his mind to see you so happy after being so vulnerable (firm believer in the wonie softie agenda). Still naked as the day he was born as he playfully wrestles with you in the sheets. He’s right next to your ear, letting our exaggerated high-pitches moans and squeals of “wonnie harder!”. He giggles at your indignant protests, reassuring you that he loves how you can’t get enough of your “very hot and sexy boyfriend”.

He seems like the type that needs to be constantly moving, fetching you towels and water and hand feeding you snacks. “Anything for you, babycakes”. Cheesy ass grin while calling you corny pet names in a teasing voice, dodging the pillow you launch his way.

END.

a/n: reminder that requests are open. I have some to work through and might not do all requests I get, but I love hearing from y’all :3 also this isn’t proofread, just like every thing else 😭 xx - princess

#enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x y/n #enha scenarios #enha reactions #enha x reader #enha smut #enha imagines #enha x y/n #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #xxsunoosprincess #requests for sunoo’s princess!! #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jake x reader

[dr-felitas]

I KNOW LOVE EXISTS BECAUSE YOU'RE FULL OF IT

synopsis: they’re full of tenderness, adoration, love or this one tiktok trend that goes like “i know love exists because my friends are full of it.”

pairing: aventurine, sunday, robin, topaz x reader (separate) | wc: 1.8k | content & warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing kissing and kissing, aventurines drabble is totally not inspired by one of my old posts..(it's literally the same), petnames in robins, usage of dummy (sarcastic) in robins, lmk if there's more ^^ ; headcanon + drabble

a/n: “love” is replaced by a synonym or another word cause i thought it’d get too boring and repetitive lmfao, ALSO happy pride!!

“i know yearning exists because AVENTURINE is full of it.”

there isn't a single time of the day where aventurine doesn't long to be by your side.

aventurine doesn’t make it obvious but he can be a clingy lover.

he has a habit of tightly holding onto you wherever the two of you are, be it in the morning when the two of you still lie in bed and aventurine holds your waist, when the two are out in public and aventurine grips your hand so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd.

there are times during work where he’s bored and starts taking notice of certain things that you’d like or that remind him of you. he writes them down in his notes app to later on tell you about them.

first thing in the morning: checking up on you. first thing to do at work: checking up on you. first thing he does when he comes home: checking up on you.

when he comes home and you don’t greet him at the door and finds you in the kitchen preparing dinner, he wraps his arms around your waist and watches you as you cook.

at the beginning aventurine was quite hesitant and reluctant when it came to initiating physical touch, the concept of a committed relationship was still new to him, a relationship where he have to open up and actually be himself - being vulnerable. 

so in the first months it’s nothing but longing glances as his fingers itch to touch you but he knows that if he will, he’ll cross a border which he’ll never be able to go back to. 

eventually he starts to link your pinkies together, holding onto yours tightly so you don’t slip out of his grasp. those small touches later turn into morning kisses and back at home kisses, hand squeezes, brushing your hand through the other's hair or begging the other to not go to work.

it’s early in the morning and you know that aventurine has to go to work, but you just can't help but be greedy. eagerly grasping for his wrist, as you beg him not to leave yet and just stay for another five minutes. 

your voice is laced with morning drowsiness and the grip you have on his wrist is sluggish - nevertheless your eyes are full of determination to not let him go and keep him by your side. 

he's grown accustomed to your little antics now, it's basically become a habit for the both of you to laze in bed a bit longer. but who is he to complain - after all how could he resist you when you ask him so nicely?

internally, he’s glad that he isn’t the only among the two of you who yearns for the other one. 

“i know sincerity exists because TOPAZ is full of it.”

topaz’s words, actions, gestures, in her opinion, aren’t enough - they’ll never be enough to express her love for you. 

topaz is a very dedicated lover.

she’s is always making sure to assure and reassure you that she loves you, be it verbally with compliments and praises, physically by showering you with much affection, cuddles and kisses on your temple before work or materialistically with gifts such as new jewelry, your favorite sweet treat, new mechanical pencils. the list goes on.

lies are unknown to her, topaz always keeps her word. your dates are 8pm sharp on saturday with her picking you up. she promised to go to the new cat café you’ve been eyeing? bet, she’s taking numby with you guys. 

on her days off work or weekends, topaz always wakes up early and makes sure to prepare you a delicious breakfast and bring it to you in bed. it varies from sweet meals like waffles topped with berries and crêpes glazed in melted chocolate to savory breakfasts like sourdough fried in olive oil and topped with an avocado and a poached egg or congee. 

when buying flower bouquets (which became a weekly habit), she always makes sure to keep one flower to herself, so when it wilts, she knows it’s time to purchase a new one and place it in the shiny glass vase on your coffee table. 

topaz always wakes 5 minutes up earlier than her alarm just so she can admire you for a little while longer before having to go to work. she lies next to you and just fiddles with your fingers, kissing the knuckles of your palms and tracing your ring  finger (just by doing that she’s able to find out the perfect measurements for your future wedding band) and brushing the strands of hair that cover your face, away.

you’re so perfect. 

topaz can only stare at you in adoration as you peacefully slumber. to think that she used to wake up alone with no one besides perhaps numby by her side, it’s ironic to think about it now.

she searches for your hand beneath the covers and quickly finds it, swiftly lacing your hands together as she brings your hand closer to her face. the back of your hand finds her lips and she presses warm kisses against your knuckles before smiling into your hand. she couldn’t be any luckier.

topaz is reminded that this isn’t a dream but reality - her reality with you. she hopes that her mornings will continue like this, with birds chirping outside her windows and tendrils of sunshine peeking through the curtains as they shine on your beautiful face. 

she hopes that this reality will be her future, her shared future with you. 

“i know devotion exists because SUNDAY is full of it.”

if sunday had to devote himself to someone it'd be none other than you.

sunday is a committed lover. 

you might call him whipped - head over heels even.

he’s prepared for every occurrence that might be happening. it’s raining heavily? he pulls out an umbrella to shield you, carefully inching it closer to you so that you don’t get wet, even if it means that his clothes will later on be slightly soaked. your feet are sore from walking with your shoes? he’s prepared and brought an additional pair of shoes in case you’d start feeling tired. you forgot to bring your wallet and can’t pay for your meal? sunday will cover it! (he was going to pay anyway, there’s no way he’d let you pay.)

the type of guy that excuses himself to go to the toilet but then goes to the receptionist and pays.

when in public and he notices that your shoes are untied he gets on one of his knees, staining his trousers with dirt as he ties the laces of your shoes back together, before standing up once again and brushing off the dirt of his clothes and taking out wet wipes to clean his hands before reaching out his hand to you.

sunday is willing to learn anything and everything about your interests. it starts off with carefully listening to you as you talk about them to later on researching them in books and the internet and perhaps even people who’re educated in this topic. just so he can later bring it up and see you happily ranting about it as he intently listens.

“have you heard about the new discussion that’s going on.” sunday shows you his phone which is currently displaying a post about one of your favorite topics which makes you smile in delight.

“actually no! i haven’t heard of this yet. show it to me please.” you plead as you look at him with a bright grin. “you know, you don’t have to ask.” sunday hums contently before handing you his phone and picking up his book again, licking the tip of his finger to turn the page as he watches you intently reading the article, smiling as you turn to him to point out something that caught your attention.

“i know compassion ROBIN exists because is full of it.”

if you’d offer robin to take all your pain away and place it upon her, she would accept. not hesitating for a split second and immediately accepting. 

robin is an empathic and understanding lover.

she always brings you small trinkets and souvenirs, like magnets to put on your shared fridge or colorful keychains for you guys’ apartment, from her concerts and tours on other planets. reasoning it by saying that: “it reminded me of you.”

she adores addressing you with terms of endearments like sweetheart, love, beloved etc. that when she doesn’t you’re confused if you did something wrong.

when robin notices you being anxious, she carefully intertwines your hands together and softly squeezes your palm as an attempt to calm you down. she languidly traces shapes, circles, stars, hearts on the back of your hand to soothe your worries and ease your anxiety. 

^ she also massages your muscles or back when they’re sore before wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing the crook of your neck. 

her kisses are featherlight, lasting for a quick moment but being full of emotion. they’re soft as she presses her lips against your skin, tinting you in pinkish lipstick from head to toe. 

oftentimes she bumps her nose against yours and when she sees your flustered expression she can only let out an angelic laugh. she then leans forwards to press a kiss on the area above your cupid's bow, just to poke your nose with hers once again.

a lot (all) of her songs are about you and she’s not one to deny that fact. there have been many times where robin sang you one of her songs as a way to comfort you, be it when she’s humming you to sleep or as you comb through her lilac hair with your fingers while listening to her songs.

“oh who’s this about?” you ask as you gingerly brush through her long hair, making sure that there aren’t any knots. robin's hair is silky and soft in your hands and you can only indulge in the scent of her freshly washed and dried hair - a sweet lavender scent.

robin can only hum in confusion. “you mean this song?” she tilts her head to the and stares at you through the mirror of her vanity. “yeah, this one.” you gulp, it’s an old song from robin that covers many topics like love, specifically falling in love and painting out a bright future. 

“it’s about you, dummy. who else?” she laughs as if it were obvious. “about me?” but this song is much older than when we first started dating.” this time it’s you being confused. “well, the song is about falling in love and planning a future.” she hums. 

all of her songs or at least the majority are about you and she doesn’t plan on stopping writing and singing more about you. 

i'm literally brushing my teeth rn but whatever. i know love exists bc user @azullumi is full of it!!! (azul does NOT reply to tiktoks you send, im crying) also azul the thingy with the us copying our mannerism when it comes to texting I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE HAHA although keyboard smashing is something i've only done with a few people, like one or two.. but now it's become quite the habit again (instead of "JEKAKWOEOWAO" i wrote sutff like "HQHAHAHA" or "LMFAO" - i still do but wtv) also i thank you for introducing me to tagalog/filo songs. i love them. i'm a sucker for them now. ok that's all you're getting. you're not getting an ily from me. i need to spare that for the upcoming bsd chapter (THR ACTUAL REASON UIRE NOT GETTING ANY APPRECIATIVE WORDS IS CAUSE I ONLY GOT SHAMED FOR MY TYPOS IN UR E/N SO UNTIL I DONT GET ANY U DONT EITHER GO AND DOROWN IN A DITCH OLD HAG #nopainnogain #neverbackdownneverhwat?!?! #againstazul2024😡)

© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

#—stellaronhvnters. #felis-files #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr headcanons #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine headcanons #sunday x reader #sunday fluff #sunday headcanons #robin x reader #robin fluff #robin headcanons #topaz x reader #topaz fluff #topaz headcanons #hsr imagines

[raineofthedragons]

Was not prepared to go on helluva boss tumblr for the first time and see so many people hating on Stolas.

Wow, I wonder why a man who has been abused his entire life and never had his feelings prioritized would shut down at Blitz screaming at him? Definitely not because it meant one of two people in the world who might care about him was behaving exactly like Stella. (Heavy sarcasm) (No hate on Blitzø, his reaction makes complete sense given his past.)

Also, this man is so fucking autistic-coded, and his reactions scream meltdown to me. He spent all day scripting that interaction, to finally put the feelings he’d been trying to communicate for months into words (contrary to what I’ve seen people say, he’s given many hints that he sees their relationships as something more, Blitz just has too many self-worth issues to see them) only to have it blow up in his face.

I don’t think he was surprised by Blitz rejecting him, I think part of him expected it. Because that’s what you do when you script interactions, you always prepare for the worst-case scenario. I think that the way Blitz rejected him was unexpected. He predicted Blitz saying no, not Blitz refusing to believe him altogether. He wasn’t prepared, and he could no longer control a situation that was already a major change from anything he’d done before. That’s fucking terrifying. His emotions spun out of control, so he tried to leave the situation. No, it’s not the most graceful exit, because that’s not within his capabilities. Speaking from personal experience, this man is probably barely holding himself together, and is focusing all his energy on maintaining control of his actions, because he doesn’t want to break down in the fucking hallway in front of someone he cares about.

When Blitz not only follows him, but unintentionally brings out traumatic memories, of course he breaks down. “I didn’t know you thought so low of me” doesn’t mean “I thought you liked me back,” it means “I didn’t know you see me and my abusers the same way.”

This ended up way longer than I thought it would but I’m incapable of saying things in a concise manner, sorry.

#helluva boss #stolas #stolitz #full moon episode #helluva boss spoilers

[snzleclerc]

future - cs55

summary: you found the love of your life, but what about the future?

both you and he have countless questions swirling around in your minds. what will our future look like after today? how will life change from now on?

all because today was the most important day of your lives. Carlos proposed to you.

this had been in the works for months. he talked to your entire family, planned everything (almost) on his own, and put his plan into action. he wanted this to be a private moment just for the two of you, so he took you to a Caribbean island and proposed by the sea, just the two of you.

the rest of the day was a whirlwind—dozens of bottles of wine opened, sheets tangled, lips swollen from endless kissing... and now, here you are, lying in bed, thinking about everything and nothing all at once.

"cariño," he calls you softly, playing with your hair, and you murmur a 'hmh' to let him know he can continue.

"how many kids do you want to have?"

you’re a bit taken aback by the question. But you already have the answer at the tip of your tongue.

"two."

"two boys, two girls, or one of each?" he asks eagerly, also surprised by how quickly you answered.

"anything, my love, everything is a million times better with you." you repeat the same phrase you’ve been saying all day. God, you’re so in love that words can hardly describe it.

this man surprises you every day, with every gesture, every touch, every kiss, every smile, every detail. it seems there’s nothing more he can do to make you happier every single day.

and well, three years fly by, and here you are, in your apartment in Madrid with your newborn twins, Luca and Eric.

those nine months were tough, but with Carlos by your side, the pain seemed to lessen.

every day, you’re grateful for this, for finding the love of your life. For finding your Carlos. you love him, and he loves you, forever and always.

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz masterlist #carlos sainz #sainz #carlos sainz 55 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris #cl16 #cl16 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #ferrari #charles leclerc masterlist #monaco gp 2024 #f1 2024 #f1 #fluff #leo leclerc #lando norizz #lando nowins

[aliteralsemicolon]

We can't be friends, but I'd like to just pretend

You and Spencer have convinced yourselves that you’re only meant to be friends despite the strong tension between you two. It only seems to intensify the longer you ignore it, eventually reaching its boiling point and forcing changes in the friendship.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

(but no mentions of pronouns in this so it can be read as gn)

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but it’s intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING Mentions of: Indirect peer pressure, alcohol/drinking/being drunk, very slight implicated SA (it doesn’t happen), serial killer, kidnapping, torture, murder, stalking, and threats. It’s all barely there and doesn’t really matter to the story tbh. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 9.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Being in love is hard. Being in love with your best friend is harder. It’s a merciless form of torture really, devoting yourself entirely to the person you hold dearest to your heart, but they aren’t yours. It was almost masochistic, standing by to serve him in whatever way you thought he needed. Luckily, you weren’t a masochist. 

Not entirely, at least. 

You were there for him when he needed, offering whatever you had to give, but there were parts of you that you kept guarded. To protect yourself, but more importantly, to protect Spencer. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hear that you were ‘too much’ from passing lovers in your life. A certain level of detachment was necessary to ensure the safety of Spencer’s friendship. He was the most important person in your life. 

Maybe it was the multitude of degrees as a result of his intelligence. He never let you feel stupid or any less intelligent. 

Maybe it was the way his whole body lit up when he shared information he’d stored in that beautiful mind.

Maybe it was the charm in how goofily he carried himself. The way his hands would flail around when he spoke to keep up with the speed his brain moved at. 

Or maybe it was how he made you feel seen. 

How he always knew what to say, what to do. How he remembered little details about you, like how you preferred the window seat on the jet. And how he went out of his way to accommodate the details, like giving up the window seat just so you could sit in it. He was an unusually thoughtful man, with everybody he knew. 

That’s something you had to remind yourself of often. 

He’s like that with everybody. He has an eidetic memory, of course he remembers the little details. 

If only you knew how wrong you were. Spencer was a thoughtful man, there was no doubt about that. Sure he was gifted with an arguably incomparable memory, but unlike all the things he had no choice in remembering, he chose to remember the little details about you. To him you were the closest thing to a real life angel. 

It was the way you were the only person he’d ever met, willing to sit there and listen to him talk for hours. You’d go out of your way to show interest in the things he’d share, even if you didn’t actually have any interest in it.

The way he could swear he saw stars in your eyes whenever he stole an opportunity to stare into them. They would burn brighter if accompanied with the sweet sound of your laughter. 

He felt compelled to accommodate you. Especially when you light up the way you do from such minuscule actions on his part. Spencer loved being the person to bring out your smile, taking any excuse to try and coax one out of you. Even if he’d slightly inconvenience himself at times. His convenience mattered little to him because he knew how much you did for him too. 

Every morning before work you’d make the trip to his favourite coffee shop, getting him scones and coffee exactly to his liking because you knew he had a tendency to skip breakfast. His favourite coffee shop was a fifteen minute drive from your apartment and an extra twenty from Headquarters. You went out of your way to deliver it to him, even reheating the coffee yourself before handing it over. 

Spencer wasn’t alone in recognising your generosity. The entire sixth floor had noticed how both of you subconsciously performed acts of service for each other, even if nobody had brought it up to your faces. 

“I know that look.” Rossi remarks, turning his head towards his raven haired co-worker, eyes on you and Spencer.

“Yea..I just wonder if they know.” Emily mirrors his actions as she gives her own comment on the sight just a few feet in front of her. 

Neither of you realise you have spectators observing your conversation. You’re in your own little bubble at Spencer’s desk, the resident genius seated comfortably with his gaze on you as he speaks. Your focus is entirely on the man across from you, leaning in slightly, perched on the wooden surface. 

“Because stomach acid in the human body is typically 1-2 on the PH scale, it’s capable of dissolving metals such as certain types of stainless steels. Razors for example! The Gastrointestinal Endoscopy journal shared that scientists found that the thickened back of a single-edged blade dissolved just two hours of immersion in stomach acid!” His voice went up a pitch as he spoke and you couldn’t help but smile.

“So theoretically, an unsub could use a razor blade as a murder weapon and potentially eat it to dispose of it?” It was a relatively dumb question, but you just wanted to keep him talking. 

“Well, it’s possible, but realistically I don’t think a razor blade-” 

“Sorry to interrupt my younglings,” A colourful Garcia appears in your bubble and cuts Spencer off, “but I am here to let you know that the team will be going out for drinks, on Rossi, tonight! No exceptions!!”

When your head swivels to Garcia, you also notice the gawking pair not far behind her, shuffling off when they realise they’ve been caught staring. 

“I’ll come, but I won’t be drinking.” Spencer says with an awkward smile. They shift their sights on you for your response. 

“Sorry guys…I already have plans for tonight.” You purse your lips together apologetically. 

“What no! No, no, no! You know how rare these nights can be!” Garcia frowns and grabs your shoulders pleadingly.

“I knowwww…I’m sorry!!”

“Fine, fine, but at least share what’s keeping you busy tonight?” The blonde pokes.

You shift your eyes to Spencer, who’s just staring at you with a curious look and then back to Garcia. 

“Well I have a date-” You begin, but are interrupted by a whispered squeal.

Garcia begins a response, but stops herself when she spots a nonchalant Derek Morgan heading towards the elevators. “We will discuss this in detail during Saturday’s girls night. For now I will accept your excuse and remind you to dress your sexiest! Now excuse me while I go and intercept my sweet chocolate thunder.”

She grips you in a tight hug and scurries off after Morgan. The atmosphere shifts slightly, as you meet Spencer’s eyes awkwardly. 

“You have a date? Why didn’t you mention that” Spencer titters.

“I’m sorry, it just didn’t occur to me.” You try to lie, but Spencer’s expression gives away that he doesn’t believe you. “Okay, okay, I just didn’t wanna say anything because the last time I talked about one of my dates you got all weird and I didn’t want to upset you again.”

“Upset me? I was not upset.” He protests and folds his arms across his chest. 

“Okay what would you call it then?” 

“I wouldn’t call it anything.” 

“Oh really? So you’re not upset that I’m going on a date?”

“Nope. Not at all. I’m interested actually, tell me about him.”

You eye him carefully, trying to figure out where his head is at. Spencer has a tendency to get sassy when he feels defensive. 

“You’re interested? To hear about one of my dates?” You question with playful caution. 

“Yes. I’m always interested in things about you.” He spills. 

Your reaction to his words is immediate, a surprised jump in your features, but you manage to mask it almost just as fast. Spencer’s just as surprised as you. 

“I-I just mean- you know? Because yo-you’re my best friend.” He tries to play it off. 

There’s no way. 

You think to yourself. Spencer definitely didn’t mean it in that way. 

No he definitely didn’t. He just said so himself. You’re his best friend. Spencer Reid does not feel the same way about you.

It stings to admit to yourself, but it’s for the best. Spencer is a smart, handsome, wonderful man with so much to offer. You’re too much work, come with too much baggage, just too much.

“Yea, we’re best friends.” An affirmation more for yourself than him. 

A silence looms as you stare at each other stiffly. 

“Anyways, my date,” you decide not to linger on it for too long, “it’s with that guy I told you about, Nathan.”

“Nathan? Didn’t you go on a date with him last time?” A casual inquiry. 

“Yea!” You squeak enthusiastically, grateful that he had reverted back to his light-hearted self. 

This was something you deeply enjoyed about your friendship. The fact the two of you could flow back into casual conversation no matter what.

“So it’s a second date?”

“Yes! The first one went really well, so I thought why not agree to a second when he asked?”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” 

His approval should feel better than it does. For some reason, it makes you uneasy. Almost as if you don’t want him to approve. 

He has approved though, meaning he isn’t against you dating other people. He doesn’t want you the same way.

“Really?” You want to be sure, scared that you might put him off again.

“Yes! Really! If you’re happy then I’m happy for you.” A fib that you were unaware of. 

In truth, Spencer would rather crawl on the office bathroom floor than see you with some other guy. Fortunately for him, he isn’t actually going to be there to see you with this ‘Nathan’. So he doesn’t need to submit to such an awful torture. Maybe he’s being dramatic, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no right to feel such a heavy drop in his gut. 

Part of him really is happy for you. He wanted you to feel loved, even if it wasn’t by him. God, how he wished it was by him. If friendship is what he has to settle for to be near you, then so be it. Though at times it feels like it might kill him, you being the closest person in his life, but not close enough to the point where he could call himself yours. 

“REID!”

Spencer jumps at the sound of Morgan’s voice, finding it difficult to focus on his current surroundings. He missed half the team scattering around to different parts of the bar, Morgan now his only company. 

“What’s up?” His expression shifts to a tight-lipped smile.

“Where’s your head at man?” Derek probes.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean I have never seen you this zoned out before. You haven’t checked back in since you sat down.” 

It wasn’t intentional, but since you walked out the doors of the BAU all Spencer’s been able to think about was your date. You probably went straight home to get ready, pulling out all the stops to feel as beautiful as you are. For somebody that can never truly appreciate it, not like he can. 

“I guess I’m just not feeling well.” A pathetic excuse. One Spencer finds himself making whenever he’s pulled out of his thoughts about you. 

Morgan doesn’t believe him. Hell, Spencer doesn’t even believe himself. 

“Kid. You know you can always talk to me right? About anything.” 

“I know. I’m really just tired. Actually- you know what, c-could- could you just tell the others that I’m just not feeling great, I’m- bye Derek.” Spencer stutters as he rushes out of his seat. 

He doesn’t even give the man a chance to respond as he makes his exit out of the bar. He’s lacking the capability to force himself to socialise. The knowledge of you on a date with another man was something he’s been able to handle, but a second date with a man was harder to stomach. You must like him if you’re willing to see him again. 

The ride home feels longer than it actually is. How far had the date gotten? Were you enjoying it? Did Nathan make you laugh the way he could? Spencer might lose his mind. He wondered if you had given Nathan the privilege of touching you. Your skin always looked so soft, his heart panged at the thought. He felt sick. 

You were his best friend. You trusted him. He shouldn’t think this way about you, feel this way about you. Unreciprocated feelings were something Spencer was entirely used to. He’d perfected being able to put the person at the receiving end of his affections in the back of his mind. To ignore until it went away entirely.

Why was it so much harder this time? There is no universe in which you would ever return his love for you. Which is why he needs to force himself to love you from afar. It was a fact Spencer reminded himself of repeatedly. And he would’ve kept at it, if he wasn’t interrupted by the sight of you standing in front of his door as he stepped up his apartment stairs. 

“Hi!” His voice alerts you softly.

“Hi!” You squeak back, turning on your heel to face him. 

He can’t help but note how heavenly you look. It almost knocked the air out of his lungs, except he noticed the poorly wiped tears glistening on your face. He didn’t ask about it, immediately. Instead he just pulled you in for a hug, something he rarely did with others, and unlocked his door as he motioned for you to enter first. Another thing to love about Spencer Reid. 

You step inside, more than familiar with the deep green walls surrounding you. If the stench of liquor wasn’t enough, then the way you stumbled on your way to his couch was all Spencer needed to deduce that you had been drinking. A lot. He walks past you towards his kitchen, returning with a glass of water and painkillers you would definitely need later. 

“Have you eaten?” He asks softly, handing you the glass of water. 

“Um..” you take a sip and pause as you sigh, “yeah.”

The two of you just sit there, silently, stealing small glances at each other and averting your gazes before the other can notice. You know he’s waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to speak first. Except you don’t know what to say. You feel so embarrassed. He probably had better plans for tonight, but here you are, pestering him again. 

“How long were you waiting?” He speaks up once he realises that you aren’t going to.

“Not long, I had actually just gotten there, your timing was really good.” You mumble, forcing an awkward chuckle. 

“Did Nathan drop you off?” Spencer hopes that bringing up your date might give you enough courage to vent. 

“No. No, I walked.” A resigned smile creeps on your face, not wanting to talk about your journey here. “How was your night?”

“Walked?? Alone?? Drunk??” The words seep out of him before he can hold his tongue. “Why didn’t you call me?!”

“I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to bother you!” You defend. 

But you are bothering him. You’re bothering him right now.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back tears. Guilt creeps inside him. He knows that he’s not the source of your tears, but he didn’t want to make you cry regardless. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he takes hold of your hand and squeezes ever so gently, “we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Why don’t we play chess? You’re getting better at it, you know?” He adds, thinking of a quick distraction. 

Chess was a favourite pastime of yours with Spencer. You pull your hand out of his grip and use it to rub the opposing arm, his touch overwhelming you. He was too soft with you. You suppose it’s why you seek him out so often. Out of all the men you’ve ever known, Spencer was the only one who knew you. It felt so nice to be known. 

“Y-yea..yes. Please. Let’s uh- let’s play chess.” You stumble on your words, eager to think about anything else. 

Spencer retrieves his mini chess board from his satchel and prepares the board between the two of you. Neither of you utter a word as you play your moves. You appreciate the silence, because you know that you can’t say or do the wrong thing. 

“You’re going easy on me.” You break the silence anyway, scared that the silence might bore him. 

“You’re holding back.” He argues and you finally meet his eyes for the first time since you started the game.

“No, I’m just drunk.” You counter.

“I was the one at a bar but you’re the one who’s drunk.” It’s a stupid comment, slightly cringy even, but he earns a genuine laugh out of you. 

His dorkiness was part of his charm. Your laughter makes him smile. A comfortable silence fills the atmosphere as your eyes meet again. Spencer’s eyes were so beautiful, you could drown in them. Spencer in general was so beautiful, in every way possible. 

“It’s your move.” He has to remind you, worried that if he’s allowed to look at you for two long he might do something really stupid.

“I-uhm- I had a shitty date.” You owe him an explanation for ruining his night.

He doesn’t respond, not wanting to say anything that might make you close up again. He wanted to be the person you talked to about your problems. He wanted to be your solace. 

“It started really well. I thought I could see something more, but it turns out he just wanted the same thing as all the others. Thought that maybe if he got me drunk enough..but it obviously didn’t work” You try to lighten the weight of your words by laughing with them. “It’s probably for the best, you know? I don’t think it would’ve worked out regardless, I couldn’t stop-”

Stop comparing him to you. 

Normally, Spencer is the one with the tendency to ramble, but the alcohol wasn’t making it easy for you to shut up. You just hope he doesn’t realise where you were headed with that statement. You kept comparing your date to Spencer. Everything Nathan did today was a direct reminder of things Spencer would never do. 

“Check.” You choose to stop making a fool of yourself there.

Spencer’s breath hitches. Not because he picked up on what you hoped he didn’t, rather because he was concerned by the possible implications of what you said.

“Did he..did he try to-” 

“No. Oh my God, no!” You cut him off before he can finish the thought. 

His shoulders relax and the silence resumes. For the first time since he met you, Spencer found himself speechless. He didn’t know whether to comfort you or give you advice. Part of him felt selfishly relieved, at least he didn’t have to worry about some other guy anymore. The other part, the part that felt disgusted with himself for even thinking about himself right now, felt a mixed range of hurt for you. 

It started with resentment for the negligence Nathan displayed with you and ended with sorrow for how easily you brushed off your hurt. While he ran all the possibilities of the best thing to say, you ran all the possibilities of leaving his apartment in the least inconvenient way for him, interpreting his silence as irritation. 

He should be irritated, you’re disrupting his night. 

You need to leave before he can tell you to. Just as you’re about to mutter some bull-shit excuse, Spencer gently cups your hand with both of his hands and locks eyes with you. His voice is so painstakingly gentle, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Nathan and anyone else who has ever allowed themselves to be blinded by their shallow urges is an absolute fool. Idiot. Moron. There aren’t enough words in the English dictionary to describe how stupid they are for missing out on knowing you as you are. I’ve experienced a lot of good things in my life, none have ever brought me as much joy as you do. I can’t even begin to explain how deserving you are of love and it’s heartbreaking to see that you’ve convinced yourself of the opposite.”

It’s your turn to be speechless. Of the list of things you didn’t expect, this wasn’t even on the list. You should have expected it. It was in Spencer’s nature to prove you wrong for underestimating his tenderness. He felt perhaps he went too far. Said too much.

“I-I just mean-” 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Your heart feels like it’s lacking space inside your chest, tears threaten to build. 

“Because you’re my f-friend.” He struggles to utter the last word.

“Friend..” You nervously laugh.

The meaning behind his words don’t register in your drunken state. All your focus is diverted to the feeling of his calloused skin on yours. The liquor in your veins awakens dazed boldness. One you’d be too wary of displaying otherwise. You allow your fingers to dance against his, an act of intimacy not reserved for friends. He doesn’t stop you either. 

“You know…” 

it’s almost not even a whisper, 

“...if I wasn’t who I am…” 

but Spencer was an expert in tuning out everything else to focus solely on your voice,

“...maybe you could love me the way I love you.”

And the world, as Spencer knows it, stops. Your words ring in his ears and he’s sure his heartbeat has become audible. 

“Y-you love me?” He repeats, unable to suppress his need to hear those words again.

The validity of your confession doesn’t bear any weight until you hear it from him, your motions against his hand coming to an immediate stop. You shift line of sight to his face faster than you can blink, waiting for his reaction so you can scramble to save your friendship. 

Parroting your words wasn’t enough, Spencer couldn’t believe it. He had never considered it feasible for you to love him. He had spent so many sleepless nights tormenting himself over the fact. He wanted so badly to cup your face and tell you about all the thoughts of you that consumed his mind. To say those three words back. 

“You can’t love me.” Instead he said four words that strained your hope for salvation. He’d shoot himself if he had any realisation of what he had just done. 

“No, of-of c-course, I meant like an- a- amazing fr-friend. You k-know, like the kind of bes-best friend you only mean once in your lif-life.” And you unknowingly shattered that hope in him. 

Silence has never been more deafening. Neither of you can look away from each other. There’s so much to say but how can it be said now? 

“Right. No, yeah. Of course.” He forces out. 

A fake understanding between you two. The expressions canvassing both of your faces display anything but understanding. Though you’re no longer physically touching, you’re still holding each other in your view. A few moments pass and Spencer is the first to look away. 

“You must be tired-” He starts.

You were still disrupting his space.

“Right, I’ll go-” You stand, ready to rush out the door.

“No-no.” He sighs. “Stay please. It’s late and you’re drunk-”

“No I’ve alrea-” You try to protest, not wanting him to go out of his way for you any longer.

“Please. I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re safe.” He begs, not just with his words but his eyes. 

“Okay.” You murmur. “But I’m taking the couch.”

Under any other circumstances, Spencer would have resisted you taking the couch. Today? He was utterly drained.

“Alright. I’ll get you something comfortable to change into while I set up the couch. You know where the bathroom is.” He sports a weak smile, unable to meet your eyes again. 

He watches you disappear into the bathroom after handing you some spare clothes. He sets the couch with the pillows and blankets he’d reserved for you. He bought them after you’d slept over a few times at the start of your friendship, wanting you to sleep as comfortably as possible so you would keep coming back.

You’d just broken his heart into a million pieces, so fine that he’d never be able to put it back together whole, but he still couldn’t not exert the utmost care when it came to you. 

In the bathroom, you fight back tears again as you fumble into his clothes. You’d worn this particular sweatshirt before, because you didn’t anticipate staying the night. It was never planned, often you two just lost track of time because you spent too long engaged in conversations. After a while you started leaving things at his place so you had an excuse to keep coming back. 

You can handle just being his friend, but you don’t think you can handle not being anything to him. Was there something you could do so you didn’t have to stop coming back? 

When you came out and saw your makeshift bed for the night, you felt slightly fuzzy inside. Spencer had already gone to bed but he’d covered the cushions of the couch with a thick blanket and two fluffy pillows. A fresh glass of water was waiting for you on the coffee table with the pills from earlier. 

Maybe things were okay after all? Surely he wouldn’t have put as much care into your comfort if they weren’t. So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of dread inside you? Why did the air feel so thick?

You spend most of what’s left of the night awake, curled into yourself on his couch, muffling your sobs. You’ve ruined another good thing. Pushed away probably the most important person in your life. You knew he was too good for you, he could never feel the same way. You got greedy.

Just a few feet away from you, Spencer’s in the exact same position as you on his bed. No rejection has ever hurt as much as when it came from you. He knew you were drunk, he knew you could never actually feel the same way. But aren’t drunk words sober thoughts? Statistics definitely agree they are.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pounding headache. Then the dry mouth. Spencer had left a glass of water, painkillers and a bagel on the coffee table. You reach for the pill first, hoping that the faster you take it, the faster it kicks in. As you practically pour the water down your throat, you see a little note next to the bagel. 

“Paper work day at the office. Make sure to eat and drink lots of water. Will tell Hotch that you’ll be late/taking the day off. - Spencer”

Thoughtful as ever. The bagel was still warm so he must’ve left recently. It was strange that he’d left without waking you up like he normally does. Your first bite of the bread jolts the memories of the night before and it hits you harder than the headache. Your appetite faded and the remorse set in. 

Shit. 

You and Spencer have always been able to bounce back, but the damage you caused last night might be irreparable. Say Spencer does forget about it, can you? You always knew he couldn’t love you back, but you never imagined that he would forbid you to love him in the first place. As much as you didn’t want to face Spencer right now, work was the best place for you to be if you didn’t want to go mad thinking about last night. 

You’d have to change into appropriate work attire first, so a trip back to your place was warranted. The whole uber ride back to your apartment you think of things to say when you see him. Things didn’t need to change. You had to apologise, obviously, but there had to be some way of apologising while maintaining normalcy. The best start was getting him his coffee and scones like you usually did. 

Meanwhile at the office, Spencer was stuck on the same page of his file. It had never taken him more than a few seconds to turn a page, but he wasn’t actually reading the words. You took up every thought in his mind again. He wondered if you were awake yet, if you remembered the events of the night before. 

“You know if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.”

When he initially heard you say it, all he heard was that you love him.

“You know if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.”

When he said it out loud to himself all he wanted to do was tell you how much he does love you, but the chance was ripped away from him just as fast as it was given to him. Did you even care? Or was it just an insignificant event to you? It was a lot easier to accept that you could never love him the same way before he had a taste of what it would be like if you did. 

There was this moment, when your fingers were fiddling with his and you said those words, just a second where he experienced what it could be like. He can’t go back to how it was, not now that he knows how it could’ve been. In order to protect himself from unravelling completely he has to let you go. An impossible task, considering you work together. 

“I brought coffee.” Your expression is tentative. 

Spencer looks up to see you standing above him, holding his daily coffee and scones in hand. There are no traces of the night before to be seen on you. Your makeup is fresh and you’d clearly changed clothes. You looked perfectly angelic, as always. If it were any other day, your gesture would’ve made him feel like the most special person in the world. Today, it felt like the cruellest thing in the world. 

“Do you wanna come with me while I heat it up? Or should I just bring it back to you?” You prompt. 

“No.” He rises from his seat and pries it out from your hand. “I can do it. Thank you.” 

Before you comprehend what’s happened, Spencer’s walked away. You try to follow him to the kitchen, but when you get there he’s nowhere to be seen. This seems to be a trend for the next few days. You find some excuse to try for conversation and he shuts it down after about one sentence. That’s if you’re able to get close enough to him for that sentence. It’s becoming more and more obvious that he’s avoiding you. 

You decide to give him space after about a week of it, wishing everyday that you could go back in time and change things. Around the two week mark, he starts giving you the cold shoulder, not even so much as looking at you. He couldn’t look at you. It was taking everything in him to force himself away from you, but it was easier than being near you. You weren’t the only one who could feel this change in your dynamic, the team was just as confused.

They’d all tried to investigate the root of this shift, individually directing casual questions to both of you in conversations. You’d both just brushed it off, not wanting to be the burden of the topic. Spencer had been doing so well in keeping his distance, but eventually, Hotch made the decision that enough is enough.

The BAU was in Chicago this week, hunting down another unsub who thought he was too smart to get caught. This was one of those cases that would stick with you for a while, so tensions were already high amongst everyone. Nobody was more on edge than Spencer and now he was forced in a car with you, driving around the city, chasing leads. 

Rarely did he ever get behind the wheel, but he knew he would need any distraction he could get. Driving was supposed to mean he wouldn’t be stuck in the passenger seat, fighting the urge to stare at you. Now he was fighting the urge to stare at you from the driver's seat. He hated being in love. You were trying your best to stay silent and looking out the window at the passing buildings. 

“Are you hungry?” 

That’s the first time in a month that Spencer’s been the first one to speak. He tried not to. Like he tried not to pay attention to your routine. It wasn’t possible. No matter how hard he tried, there were just some things Spencer couldn’t not do in regards to you. The most important thing was that he couldn’t not care. 

He knew you hadn't been eating properly. You had a tendency to forget about your well-being during hard cases. You were probably hungry. Somebody had to take care of you because you most definitely weren’t going to. He was right. The thought of food made your stomach growl. It was wicked timing. 

“No, thank you.” You lie anyway, not wanting to inconvenience him further. 

“Why won’t you stop lying to me?” He mutters in annoyance. 

“Excuse me?” You scoff, turning to look at him. 

He doesn’t look away from the road, pretending to not have heard you. 

“Seriously?” You sputter. “You’re ignoring me now?”

You huff as you throw yourself back against your seat. He didn’t mean to ignore you, he just didn’t know what to say. 

“I don’t understand why you’re being like this.” You mumble. 

It was already daunting when he was barely acknowledging you, but refusing to acknowledge all together? When you were the only person next to him? That was just vicious. You knew you’d fucked up, but was this necessary? You had already spent so much of yourself trying to keep it together, being confined in this car with him would waste your efforts. 

“Pull over.” You say in the kindest way possible, which was immensely harsh. “Spencer Reid pull this damn car over or I swear to fucking God I am going to jump out of it.”

That definitely caught his attention. In all your time together, you had never spoken to him in that way. You had definitely never addressed him by his full name. He brings the car to a halt on the side of the curb and finally turns to face you. You push the door open and hop out, slamming it behind you. 

“What are yo-” Spencer starts, but you’re already walking away. He quickly gets out and follows behind you. It doesn’t take him long to catch up to you and he stops you by the arm when he realises saying your name won’t make you turn back around. 

“Don’t touch me!” You yank your arm out of his grip and keep walking. 

“Where are you going?!” 

“Anywhere you’re not.” 

He tries you by your name again, but when it fails again, he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You hadn’t noticed that you’d walked into an alleyway. 

“Get back in the car.” He demands.

“I am not getting in a car with you.” You have never been this upset with him before. 

“You’re being childish!” He snaps, rolling his eyes.

“Oh I’m being childish?! Spencer, believe me when I say I mean this is the nicest way I possibly can right now – FUCK OFF!” You push his hands off you and take a step back, but he just grabs your wrist.

“Listen to me,” he urges, “there is a serial killer that’s kidnapping women in broad daylight, torturing them and murdering them. And he’s threatened each of us individually during the course of this investigation. You cannot just be walking around alone, in a city you hardly know.”

“Don’t explain the details of this case to me, I’m well aware.” You snarl, your irritation increasing tenfold.

“Then why are you being so difficult?!” He screeches.

“Why are you–fucking hell, I cannot keep doing this. I’m not getting in the car when you won’t talk to me. Hell, you won’t even so much as look at me!” 

“Fine! You wanna talk? We’ll talk! Just–get back in the car. Please.” He sighs in defeat. You still don’t budge, so he pleads softer. “Please.”

You take a deep breath and roll your eyes, stealing your wrist out of his grasp. Spencer doesn’t move until you do, both of you silently making your way to the car. 

You’re both silent initially, not knowing where exactly to go from here. There’s one thing you know for sure, you won’t be the first to speak. Spencer catches on to that fast. 

“What do you wanna talk about?” He snarls, shrugging his arms. 

“Cut the shit, I won’t get back in this car if I get out for a second time.” You’re not in the mood. The two of you had avoided this conversation for long enough, it was now or never. Some part of you wished for never. 

“Fine. Did you mean it?” He shoots, briskly. 

“What?” You didn’t know which part he meant. 

“That you love me specifically as an ‘amazing friend’, I believe was your wording.” His voice cracks and it causes a shift in his behaviour. He’s no longer hostile, just hurt. 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” 

In your rush to get him talking, you hadn’t actually realised that you weren’t ready to talk about this. You were stalling. 

“Answering a question with a question.” 

This doesn’t feel like a conversation. More like an interrogation, except you’re the unsub. He scoffs bitterly at your silence. 

“Spencer, don’t–” 

“No, you’re the one who wanted to talk! You were so insistent, in fact, that you would have rather made yourself a serial killer’s target then get in a car with me if I didn’t talk to you. And all of a sudden you’re speechless?” He snaps at you. 

“Yes! I was the one who wanted to talk! I just– I can’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so much? Was it because I said I love you? Did it really upset you that much?” You were both shouting from frustration. 

“You think I’m upset because you love me?!” Spencer scoffs in disbelief. 

“Aren’t you?!” You bitterly laugh. 

Spencer rubs his temples and squeezes his eyes shut, mumbling some under his breath. He’s genuinely never been this frustrated in his life. 

“Are you being serious?” His voice strains in pitch, as he tries to keep himself a lot calmer than he feels. “Is this some sort of joke to you?”

“Some sort of joke–”

“Do not interrupt me again. You wanna run away from this? Fine. But you will listen because I will not have this conversation again.” His tone is sharp, like a blade being held against your throat. It definitely shuts you up.

“Talk. Okay, let’s talk about how I have spent the last four years watching you allow undeserving men to walk all over you, letting them treat you like you’re worth nothing. I damn near drove myself insane trying to figure out why. Why is it something you accept for yourself? And then I realised– that’s how you see yourself. You actually hate yourself so much that you’ve convinced yourself you deserve it! Do you realise how infuriating that is?!

Especially because it’s the furthest thing from the truth! Still, I watched you throw yourself into this vicious cycle over and over again. You gave yourself away to those idiots, knowing that they didn’t have good intentions, but you still hoped it would be different every time. I mean you’re a fucking profiler for God’s sake! How can you expect others to love you if you can’t even love yourself? 

That’s not even the worst part! You’re so desperate for their acceptance that you continuously neglect the acceptance you already have from the people who love you. People like Emily, Penelope, Derek– the team– people like– people like me. I mean I’ve always known that you didn’t love me as anything more than a friend, but your constant reminders feel like a punch to the gut! Is it that embarrassing for you to love me as anything more?

I’ve survived way worse things, but this is the cruellest thing I’ve ever been through. Because it’s coming from you! I just never expected it’d be from you.” He’s practically hyperventilating for air by the time his speech comes to a stop, the vein in his forehead more prominent than usual.

Your jaw is tense and restless, twitching from anger. Some part of you still wants to keep this friendship. The louder part knows that there’s no going back from this. You’re not entirely sure you want to go back. Your entire body is shaking from rage. The first rule of your friendship was no profiling. Not only did he break that rule, he used the profile against you as if you actually were an unsub he was interrogating. 

“That’s not fair”

His eye twitches at your response. 

“Not? Fair?” Spencer grumbles in pauses.

“No, that's not fair!” You cry out. “It’s your turn to listen.”

It doesn’t feel like there’s any oxygen left to breathe in the car.

“Self loathing? Spencer, that's your projection! You love too hard and nobody’s ever loved you back the same way. But just because you lack things you want in your life doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me! And all this talk about love, but none of it makes any sense. You think I’m embarrassed of loving you? Is that how shallow you think I am?! You’re the one who told me that I can’t love you. God, you are the most duplicitous person I’ve ever met! I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder because I love you as an ‘amazing friend’? Because you love me and you think I’ve been neglecting you?!”

You had never spoken to anyone this way in your life. There was so much truth to Spencer’s words, but he had no right. He’d touched every nerve in your body without ever laying a hand on you. Up until roughly twenty minutes ago, being seen by Spencer was your favourite thing in the entire world. Now? You’d never hated the feeling more in your life. 

Spencer squeezes his hand into a fist, knuckles going white and releases his fingers like if he were aggressively squishing a stress ball. If asked about a month ago, he would never in a million years think that your friendship would manage to dissipate in just a few seconds. He didn’t think he could associate the word love with you anymore.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I do not love you. I do not love anything about you. Actually, I hate you. I hate how sweet you pretend to be. I hate the stupid morning coffee you bring me, nothing tastes more bitter. I hate to admit this but you’re right; everything about you is a brutal reminder of all the good things I can never have and I despise you for it.” He spits his words out with extreme tension in his blood vessels. 

“I can’t say I’ve known what it feels like to truly loathe someone before I met you.” You fire back, breathlessly, not having it in you to spare any more words for him. 

You’re not exactly sure how long the two of you have been sitting there just glaring at each other. Only when Spencer’s phone rings do you two look away. 

“Reid.” He answers the call. “Yea, she’s still here. We’re on our way back now.”

The ride back to the precinct was silent. Even as you regrouped with the rest of the team, you acknowledged everybody but each other. The team was instantly alert to the change, but no one mentioned it at the time because of the high stress of the case. You wrapped the case up a few days later and only then did the questions start making their way around. 

“Is everything okay between you two?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“What happened between you and Reid?”

“What’s up with Boy Wonder over there?”

You didn’t entertain any of them, Spencer had taken up enough time in your life. You refused to talk about him, look at him or acknowledge him at all. He shared that same incentive. Another three weeks passed as the team watched what was once the closest duo in the BAU, pretend that their counterpart didn’t exist. 

If one of you was in a room and noticed the other enter, you’d walk out without drawing attention to the situation. When leaving the room was not an option, you either went as far in the opposite corner of the room as you could or you’d simply pretend the other wasn’t present just a few metres away. You wouldn’t discuss intel with each other about cases, sharing your findings with anybody else. 

Since Chicago, Hotch only assigned you with Spencer once more, but quickly realised that wasn’t going to help when both of you begged to be assigned with someone else privately. If you were in a discussion with someone and they started talking about Spencer, you’d tune out entirely. After a while the hating game got exhausting.

Spencer hated pretending that he hated you. He felt an immense amount of guilt for the things he’d said, but it was too late to take it back. He thought it would be easier to deal with his feelings if he wasn’t around you all the time, but it was just as difficult as before. You still lit up the dull grey rooms of the building. The only difference was that now he had to watch you shine from afar. 

In truth, you didn’t hate Spencer either. What you actually hated was that you didn’t hate Spencer. You still caught yourself staring at him for long periods of time. There were days when you’d go to his favourite coffee shop before work and buy his order, only to give it away to somebody on the street because you didn’t want to ruin Spencer’s day with the bitterness of your coffee. 

By the fifth week since you had gotten back from Chicago, you and Spencer were no longer ignoring each other as much. You’d gotten into a routine of professionalism for the sake of the team, only talking to each other about cases when necessary. That didn’t stop you from subconsciously showing subtle gestures of love. These were a lot quieter than the gestures you showed when you were friends. 

You’d make sure that there was always a fresh pot of coffee in the office kitchen, so Spencer would have it ready to drink whenever he needed. He’d make sure that the snack cupboard was always filled with your favourite snacks because he knew you liked having something to munch on when catching up on paperwork. You’d keep extra painkillers in Garcia’s lair knowing Spencer would retreat there when a migraine hit.

He’d ensure the aircon was always set to room temperature, you get uncomfortable if the room was too cold. Both of you were aware of the little gestures too, no one else knew your truly niche preferences. Neither of you was brave enough to actually go up to the other, though. It was all too much for you. No matter what was said, he was still your thoughtful Spencer deep down and it killed you.

You’d tried to talk to Spencer a few times, building up the courage for days in advance. As soon as he noticed you heading in his direction, he nearly bolted in the other direction. His avoidance didn’t end at the office. You recently became aware that Penelope had been scheduling rosters to invite you and Spencer to outings, trying to ensure you were present for equal amounts of time. 

You were chilling at her desk in wait for her, when you noticed a little note with your name next to a date and time. Under that was Spencer’s name with a separate date and time. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” She greets you.

“I needed to talk to you…Penelope what is this?” You hold up the little pink sticky note.

Penelope sets her octopus mug down and takes the note from your hand. 

“This? This is nothing.” She fumbles a bit as she speaks.

“Garcia?” You purposefully speak with warning.

“Okay! Okay! But you didn’t hear it from me! We’ve kinda been taking turns hanging out with you and Spencer sometimes. But it’s because we love you and don’t want to make either of you-” She starts a panicked tangent.

“Garcia!” You interrupt her before she sends herself into a spiral. “There’s no need to do all of this. Yes Spencer and I aren’t close anymore, but you guys don’t need to go out of your way for us.”

“Well..” She grits her teeth and tilts her head.

“What?” 

“We didn’t really mean to. It’s just we noticed that Spencer would never come if you were going. And both of you just straight up refuse to talk about it, so this was the best we could come up with.” 

“Oh. Penny, I’m sorry that you guys have had to do that.” That was all you could say, your head hanging in guilt.

“Can you at least tell me why you won’t talk about it? I mean it makes sense for Boy Wonder, he’s always been stubbornly private, but you’ve never not told me anything!” 

You look towards Garcia again, thinking for a minute. You didn’t know exactly why you refused to talk about it. 

“I don’t know, honestly. I just don’t want to talk about it, if that makes sense?” You pull your friend in for a hug as an apology. 

You felt awful leaving her lair without giving her a proper answer or a resolution. It didn’t matter how professional you acted, this rift would always impact your friends and your work life. 

Spencer would always impact everything in your life. 

The guilt didn’t spare you that night, creeping its way to the forefront of your mind every few minutes. It had been four months since your last fight. It was the longest you’d gone without Spencer. This had to end for the sake of the team. That was how you found yourself standing at his door once again. After a few minutes you finally knock. You didn’t know what you were going to say, honestly you just wanted to run before he answered. You hear the locks being undone, but it’s not Spencer who answers when that door finally swings open.

“Yes?” 

It’s a woman, one you've never seen before. You’re taken aback and look around to make sure you got the right apartment. This was definitely Spencer’s apartment, you’d been here a hundred times before. And some woman was answering his door for him. Some very beautiful woman. 

“Can I help you?” She follows up, looking you up and down. 

“Hi, yeah, sorry, is–um– is Spencer here?”

“Who’s asking?” She’s definitely not very friendly. 

“We work together. Is he here or not?” You didn’t have the patience for this, annoyance seeping through your pores. 

“Who’s at the door?” His voice emerges from behind her and he finally shows up. “Oh.”

“Hey.” You glance away as soon as you see him. 

“Could you give me a minute?” He turns to the woman. She flashes a sickly sweet smile and kisses his cheek before disappearing inside. Spencer shuffles out to the corridor, closing the door behind him.

“That–uh–that was–” He stops himself, clearing his throat and switching to his professional voice. “What are you doing here?”

Cold.

“I was hoping we could talk.” You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to play off what you just saw. 

“What more is there to say?” 

“About the team. I came over to, um, apologise and maybe move past things for the sake of the team.” You were looking everywhere but at him. 

“Honestly?” His eyes are on you though. “I don’t care. And even if I did, I don’t want to hear it.” 

He starts to walk away, but turns back and mentions your name like it’s the most vile word in the dictionary. “Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.” 

With that he re-enters his apartment, leaving you standing in the hallway. It’s hard to imagine that this man was once your best friend. If you didn’t know about all the good times, you wouldn’t have believed it. Every tear that your body could ever produce streamed out of you for the rest of the night. Once you had made it back to your apartment, they broke out in sobs. In your line of work, you had survived being shot at, almost blown up and even a kidnapping once.

The man you loved with every fibre of your being looking at you like you were less than filth under a person's shoes was your breaking point. There was no way you were going to face him again. You needed to forget about Spencer Reid, which meant a fresh start. This city was a constant reminder of his essence, you couldn’t stay. You plopped down on your bed with your work bag, reaching into it for your work computer. Hands twitching as you type. 

You remember being so proud when David Rossi recommended you for the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit. You were even more ecstatic when Hotch actually requested your transfer there. You had worked your ass off for it. It was there that you met the infamous Doctor Reid. He was much different than how you had imagined him. He was so charming, friendly and so down to earth, not liking him wasn’t an option. The two of you had so much in common, despite being so different, it was the foundation for your friendship. His caring nature pulled you in further, you soon found yourself deeply in love with him. 

Tears flooded your keyboard as all your memories with him flash through your brain. His friendship was a beautiful bonus of the job you once loved, you never thought that he would become the reason you’d leave it. Yet here you were, furiously drafting your resignation to Agent Hotchner. There were so many signals in your brain telling you to back off, to open a bottle of wine and drown your sorrows instead, but your heart didn’t feel like that would be enough. Your love for your job didn’t outweigh your desire to run.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and being in love with him is an excruciating torture. One that you can no longer endure. You had never been more sure of anything as you are at this moment and you weren’t going to give yourself time to change your mind. Your time with Spencer and, as a consequence, your time at the BAU had come to an end. Another memory flashes through your mind as you sign the letter off with your name. A case in Boston had gone wrong and you were really hung up on it. Spencer, in an attempt to help you move on, shared a quote with an author he had recently read. You bitterly chuckle to yourself at this recall and press send with no second thought.

 “Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” - C.S. Lewis.

Spoilers: BAU! Reader, friends to enemies, mutual pining, hurt, angst no comfort, whump (maybe idk), Reader & Spencer are both idiots, they should probably consider therapy actually, Spencer is a sassy little shit, but really just needs a hug and a class on communication. 

AN - You’ve heard of enemies to lovers/friends, now I present to you the exact same thing in reverse (been done time and time again, I’m not in any way original <3). You can blame Ariana Grande for this one. Sorry that I haven't posted, I've had insane writers block. I might be slightly incapable of shorter word counts, I’ll try to improve that.  I apologise for grammar/anything that does not make sense, I am both an idiot and also was dealing with a bad case of the flu when I wrote this. I’d like to thank @reidmotif for curing my writer's block and inspiring me on the second half of this fic.

Drop thoughts & feelings so I can ponder on them. Always remember that I’m in your walls. 

Thank you for reading!

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[delirious-donna]

Second Chances Are Not Promised [Part Nine]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: A few days have passed since you chose to run from Kento rather than face a reality where he rejected your advances. You hate to admit that you miss him, but does he feel the same way and would you ever find out even if he did?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: angst, emotionally charged argument, NSFW throughout, I don't want to spoil the story too much and I don't think there is any triggering content but the NSFW is there for a reason

Part Eight | Series Masterlist | Part Ten

The past few days had been some of your worst. Torn between annoyance at being this emotionally distraught at the actions of a stupid, coward of a man and the genuine hurt that penetrated your heart at the thought of him. Leaving had been a necessity, and although it meant some strategic couch surfing until you were finally able to return to your cozy little student apartment, it was the lesser of two evils.  

The idea of remaining in Kento’s apartment after his rejection turned your stomach. To be faced with him knowing that there was an attraction between you, that it wasn’t all some torrid fantasy in your head, and still he chose to turn away from it, would be too damaging. The beginning of tears blurred your vision whilst you thought about it, of those restless hours trapped inside the room which smelled like him resurfaced the agonies that had not yet begun to heal. 

Over and over, you chastised yourself for allowing another person to whittle you down to your very core components, and with what you considered to be clearly little compassion for the results, but the blame should not fall upon your shoulders. Nanami Kento was a man of logic and reasoning, you had come to learn this and that had ultimately been the downfall. He allowed the fear of things not working out for the best to ruin any chance of ever finding out. It was his fault, that much was true. 

Stupid man… 

It would be easier if you could hate him. If you could shield your heart with the burn of fury and hatred. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, softer memories invaded your mind to override the unpleasant ones. The Chinese takeout and Kento’s rigid posture before he succumbed to your invitation to join you. The visit to the bar and the conversation that flowed as easily as the drinks. The museum trip and the adorable couple that had given unsolicited advice in such a cute way you couldn’t be mad. The movie night… the faint dream-like memory of a kiss against your forehead and distantly murmured words that left you with a dopey smile and a fluttering in your chest. 

You still caught whiffs of his scent despite having washed all the clothing from your stay as soon as you could. The lingering smell of expensive coffee beans that you could never afford, wafts of leather and earthy notes that you couldn’t give a name to, had a way of invading your nose even in the dead of night when your body begged for sleep, but your brain refused the respite. Along with how you could perfectly recall the taste of him when his tongue swept into your mouth, it was torture—a torture of your own making. 

Another night, another failed attempt at sleeping more than in short fits and starts. None of it was restful either, dreams assailing you from the mundane to the wildly vivid. You grabbed up your phone and groaned at several messages and a missed call on the screen. Since your return, you hadn’t spoken to Karin and because she wasn’t due to return to school until the day after next, you weren’t even sure if she knew you were home. Would Kento have called her? Did he care enough to let her know you’d ran? 

Pulling the covers over your head, you sighed and dropped your phone onto the mattress. There was no desire to reply to the messages, none of which had come from Karin, which made you assume that Kento hadn’t informed her of what transpired. Your eyelids drooped low, the pull of sleep tugging at you like the dark tendrils of water trying to drag a poor victim to their lair to remain eternally. You put up no resistance, letting yourself be submerged until only darkness filled your mind. 

~ 

The noise of muted conversations, tinkling laughter that sounded far from genuine and the constant drone of air conditioning drowned out Kento’s thoughts. It was amazing to think that not long ago he longed to be here, to return to the luxury of his corner office and the accounts he knew like the back of his hand. Now, he hated it.  

There was no comfort to be found in the continuous noise of the printers, the clipped footsteps of assistants in the most uncomfortable looking high heeled shoes he had ever seen and the forced conversation he had to endure from his colleagues. In truth, Kento had no interest in playing the games he was accustomed to. Office politics no longer felt compelling or exciting.

He felt… done. Done with the routine, the faked smiles and the forced conversations. “How’s the wife and kids? Did you get up to much over the weekend? When are you going to settle down, Kento? Surely, you’ve got a different girl in your bed every night that you could choose from.” He hated it and it was your fault.

Kento had lost count of the times his phone found its way into his palm, his sister’s contact info blaring like a beacon on the screen with his thumb poised over the call button. Where were you? Were you okay? Those questions plagued him day in day out, and only his pig-headed stubbornness kept the answers from his grasp. Abruptly, he slammed his pen atop the desk. It bounced from the force of the impact and shot off the edge to roll beneath a cabinet, a reprieve from his anger.

Once more, the memory of your petal soft lips assailed him. The taste of you manifested in his mouth and he let his eyes slide shut as he slumped back in his chair. His cock throbbed behind the tight hold of his trousers, and no amount of adjusting and readjusting would alleviate the gut-wrenching ache that resided within him. He remembered how your fingers felt moving closer to the hairs at his neck and how he…

The memory couldn’t remain pleasant, though he longed for it to take a different path. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have your nails scratch against his scalp. He wanted to find out if you would tug his hair or play with it gently. What might it be like if his hold of your waist had not been so timid, if he had caressed your sides and kneaded at your hips how he really wanted to. Would you have let him lead you to his bed to tumble amongst the sheets? Would you cry out his name when he tasted you for the first time? Kento was panting like a dog cruelly trapped in a car on a summer day.

A knock on the glass wall of his office shook him from his twisted fantasies. He jolted upright to see the nefarious grin of a rival colleague who clearly assumed he was napping on the job, not aware of how close Kento had been to taking his dick out behind the cover of his desk and fisting himself furiously to endure a painful orgasm that would not sate the yearning he was at the mercy of. Instead, he scowled at the man with hot, seething hatred written across his face. The man paled and quickly walked away.

“That’s right. Run back to your office. Email your little cohorts and begin my assassination,” he hissed, fury bubbling under his skin and making him want to scratch at his arms until they bled.

The door slammed behind him as he made for the exit, head bowed over his phone until he raised it to his ear whilst taking the stairs two at a time to reach the parking lot. Each shrill ring cut his nerves to the quick until at last, she answered, and he could finally breathe again.

“Karin? Don’t talk just listen…”

~

A knock sounded at your front door, quiet and innocuous, it wasn’t enough for you to warrant moving from the couch. Your movie was more important even though you weren’t paying it the slightest bit of attention either. A moment passed in which you assumed your visitor, whoever they were, had gone away, but no. Once more a knock sounded, and this time it was firmer. The person’s knuckles rapping loudly against the cheap wood veneer.

Annoyed, you grabbed up the remote control and increased the volume in what you hoped was an obvious sign that you didn’t wish to be disturbed. There were only a few people it possibly could be and none of them needed to see you in your current state of moping.

However, the knocking continued and this time it was positively furious. The entire frame of the door vibrated from the pounding fist hammering against it. Now you were curious, or perhaps it was fear that had you turning to glance at the door which shook with yet another blow.

Maybe it was the landlord or the police, but wouldn’t they have called out to announce themselves? Fuck, what if it was someone hurt or in need of help and you were wilfully ignoring them. The Good Samaritan in you would be silenced for only so long. It only took a few hurried steps to reach the trembling wood, your hands reaching out to brace against the wall so you could glance through the peephole, and what you saw made the air in your lungs seize completely.

Kento.

It was Kento pounding on your door and looking as determined as you had ever seen him. On the other side of the door, he too froze in place, and you clapped a hand over your traitorous mouth. He had heard your gasp of alarm. Your heart physically ached from how violently it thrashed inside your chest, knees wobbly from working to keep you on your feet.

“I know you’re in there, I heard you gasp. Can you let me in? I’d like to… talk. Please?”

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks and you angrily swiped them away. The sound of your name from his lips, so soft and tentative, only worsened the angry twist of your heart and stomach. You weren’t sure how long passed, but clearly, it was enough to have him call out again, a resigned sigh evident in his intonation.

“I’d really rather have this conversation more privately,” he muttered, stepping as close to the door as he could. “If… shit… if you’re worried about being alone with—”

Kento jumped back as the door swung wide open, his alarm at the suddenness made him blink and when he found composure… there you were. The corners of his lips twitched with the desire to beam at you. His shoulders lost a little of the tension he had been carrying all this time, and he let out an exhale that lightened his load just the tiniest bit. Your expression was one of fury but even that couldn’t dissuade the hit of dopamine that coursed through his blood at seeing you after these days apart.

“Get in here,” you yelled, stepping aside to allow him access to your apartment before slamming the door shut with a rattling echo shaking the whole room. “You think I’m afraid? Seems like you’re still an idiot.”

You might harbour the desire to wring this man’s neck, but not once had you ever felt afraid of him, not for a single second. Not even when he had burst in on you in his bath, naked and vulnerable. The mortification on his face had dissolved any concern for your safety in an instant. Wow. That moment felt so long ago now, but in reality, not that much time had passed.

Kento shrugged, unknowing what else to do and at last you took him in.

So, this was him suited and booted. He looked good, annoyingly handsome, and you could kick yourself for thinking that. This was the outer shell of the man you had met on that first fateful day; his shirt was crisply pressed and a surprising navy blue with neat tan trousers showing sharp creases down the legs, his expensive timepiece adorned his wrist and the brown polished Oxfords on his feet managed to shine in the dinghy low light of your living room. There was no jacket in sight, though you knew instinctively that one should reside over the width of his broad shoulders, and then you noticed it. A garish yellow splattered tie decorated the length of his sternum. It should have thrown his entire image, but somehow it didn’t.

Your nose wrinkled at the strange tie, head canting to the side and if you didn’t know any better, you might have said that this was the real Kento shining through the gloom of the mundane. There, at the heart of him, resided a man who didn’t want to fully abide by the standards laid out for all to adhere to. A small spark of a rebellious spirit weathered by cupped hands against the cruel winds of corporate culture. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t certain sobs were more likely to emerge than laughter.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?”

It was your turn to shrug, already knowing the only possible answer. “Karin,” you answered bluntly. “I thought you were the one that disliked pointless questions.”

He winced at your cool tone, eyes falling from your less than impressed expression to bore holes through the floor. He deserved your ire—your anger and vexations—what he couldn’t stand was your indifference. The impact hit far harder, ice settling over his heart when he hesitantly gazed at the woman, he so ruthlessly scorned.

To Kento, you seemed tired. Dark circles underlined your dull eyes, not a single sparkle, of which he knew resided within them, remained. This was his doing… Despite that being the case, he felt the brush of butterfly wings in his stomach, soft and heartfelt. You were beautiful. So beautiful, and he knew this would be the last chance he’d ever get to make this right. To prove that he knew of the mistakes he had made and promise never to be so stupid ever again.

“I came to apologise,” he offered, slowly stepping closer only to see you take the same step back, much to dismay.

“I don’t accept. You can leave now.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and you followed the bounce of the front strands that refused to return to their original position. He was ruffled and hating every second of it. You were glad of his discomfort, at least he now felt an ounce of what you did.

Kento sighed. “I won’t stay if you really wish me to leave, but I’d prefer if you’d hear me out at least.”

“What could you possibly have to say? You rejected me, Kento. You fucking kissed me then shoved me away. There is nothing more to add.” You shot your reply like the bullets of a machine gun, fast and deadly.

“I was trying to protect—”

You interjected before he could finish, pacing back and forth like a caged predator who belonged in the wild, not on display like this. “Don’t you dare say it was to protect me. Don’t you dare assume that you know what is best for me! I make my own decisions in life, and no man is going to step in and change that.”

He raised his hands in surrender, eyes fixed into the depths of the floor and the passage of your feet.

“Protect us both… maybe more so me than you. I-I hate myself for only considered the implications that affected me,” he admitted quietly, shame burning in his gut. “We’re so different but also alike. I can see myself in you at that age and remember the dreams I had, and how they all revolved around success and money. I was driven just like you are, but you’re better than me. So much better and I don’t think you even realise it.”

Your pacing slowed as you listened, the pounding in your ears still very much present but growing quiet so you could hear the words being said and the unspoken ones too—for there were many.

“I admire your strength and determination, how you refuse to let anything, or anyone stand in the way of your happiness. You don’t let expectations change who you are. You were right when you called me jaded, because I am—or I was. Happiness was never a primary focus and it’s only now that I’m understanding what a fundamental mistake that was.”

“You sound like the male lead in those lovey-dovey romcoms you hate so much.”

His face split wide with his first smile in days. You watched in alarm when he bent over to clutch his stomach, until laughter poured from him, and the unabashed honesty of the noise made you glance away before you too were caught up in it. You weren’t ready to show him that side of you again.

“I guess I do, and I told you that I don’t hate them all.” He paused to slowly raise his arm, fingertips daring to brush against the back of your arm and when you didn’t pull away, down to your knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”

The shield around your heart was straining against the emotional onslaught. He sounded so genuine, and you reminded yourself that not once had he said anything that he didn’t mean, even when those things hurt. You took your hand back and hugged your arms around your middle.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You asked, pointedly ignoring his last remark and how badly you wanted to reiterate it back to him. “You’re certainly dressed for the office, except for that tie. Not sure if I love or loathe it.”

“I should be at work, but I walked out.” Kento shrugged as if that was the most obvious and rational thing he could say. “As for the tie…” He smiled down fondly, picking up the yellow material and letting it fall back against his chest. “I’ve always liked it. Makes me stand out against the other suits in the room.”

You couldn’t deny that.

Uncertain how else to further the conversation, or if you should try at all, you shuffled your feet against the floor before finally resigning to the wants of your heart. “You want a coffee?”

“Does that mean you’re not kicking me out?”

“It means… do you want a coffee?”

“I’d love a coffee.”

He followed you into the small kitchen, eyes taking in his surroundings for the first time and what he saw was a modest student apartment, much like the one he had lived in, but you had imprinted all over it. There were pieces of art hanging on the walls, leafy green plants on nearly every windowsill, cushions and blankets draped haphazardly over the cheap looking couch and little photos and mementos stuck to the fridge door and some cupboards.

Your face stood out in the ones that caught his eye, bright smiles that radiated joy and he even spied Karin in a few. The two of you were almost worlds apart but clearly cared for one another. He hoped that his intrusion into your life wouldn’t spoil that friendship. Although he was getting ahead of himself. One cup of coffee did not mean you were willing to give him another chance, and he hadn’t even asked yet.

“I’ve only got instant, didn’t know I’d be visited by a coffee connoisseur today,” you grumbled whilst finding two mismatched mugs.

He had to fight not wrinkle his nose and it did not go unnoticed, your eyebrow rising in a challenge to either put up or shut up. Wisely, he chose the latter, only shrugging in acceptance and gratefully taking the steaming mug when offered.

“You know, I’ve made your morning coffee every day since you left. It didn’t feel right only pouring one cup.”

What was this man doing to you? He was killing you with these heartfelt admissions in such quick succession, that’s what he was doing to you. The urge to cry tightened your throat, because for all your seething over what had happened, you had missed him. It was his voice you heard in the dead of night, his scent that tormented you when you least expected it, and his hazel eyes with warm caramel flecks that crinkled happily when you were lost in thought.

“Mm.” You didn’t know what else you could say, and you weren’t ready to admit that you felt the same way. Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you took a small sip of the cheap instant coffee and masked your grimace behind the rim of the mug before setting it down.

Kento took the few steps to put himself directly in front of you and you were frozen, staring right ahead into the centre of his chest. You didn’t dare to lift your gaze from the ridiculous yellow splattered tie, you couldn’t. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his body, it radiated outwards and teased at you like wandering tendrils. Your heart was thundering, so much so that you missed his arm moving as you worked to control yourself. His fingers gently lodged beneath your chin, slowly bringing your face upwards to meet his eyes, and it was a mistake.

Those intelligent eyes were sorrowful, and it thickened the lump lodged in your throat. It felt like time was suspended whilst he grazed his fingertips along your jaw and over your cheek until he was cupping your face so gently that you nearly wept on the spot. You let him explore the soft apple of your cheek, allowed him to run his thumb beneath your eye and felt the moisture of tears you weren’t aware you had shed stain the swirling thumbprint. He was so close and yet not close enough.

Caught between the urge to shove him away and drag him close, instead, you did nothing. You refused to put yourself in another vulnerable situation with him, if he wanted something then he would lead the charge and take what he sought. You wouldn’t be made a fool of again. You wouldn’t—

His lips found yours—tentative and slow. Lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed when he leant in to close that final gap. Your gasp was swallowed whole, washed away by the sweetest kisses that were nothing like the one you shared in his apartment. Angry passion fuelled that kiss, but not this one. It was a kiss reserved for deeper emotions, dare you say, the first budding blooms of love. There was an apology at its roots, and you accepted with your reciprocation.

It was like coming home, nothing else felt like this, and before you knew it, your arms were around his neck. This time, when you moved to delve your fingers through his lush head of hair, he didn’t stop you. Kento groaned against your mouth at the sensation, your nails gently scratching along his scalp in answer to a question he had long wanted to ask. You melted against his body; chest tightly pressed to his whilst you sobbed through a moment of clarity.

You were the one to pull back this time, a hand leveraged against his shoulder, but it was different to when he stopped you. Your finger sunk into the stiff material of his shirt, your way of not letting him escape, because this wasn’t over. “Kento… I need to know.”

“I want you. I have wanted you for longer than I realised. I hate that I hurt you to understand any of that. It will never happen again. I’m sorry… I will repeat that as many times as you need to hear it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.”

The words poured from him like a fountain. It was the most candidly you had heard him speak, and the gravity of that wasn’t lost on you. Kento was opening the door for you. He was welcoming you into his inner sanctum and hiding nothing from you. There were no veils in place to hide shadowy recesses, only pure light that defeated every phantom doubt there could possibly be. It made you smile, watery from unshed tears but you didn’t cry, you laughed.

Kento was a statue as he waited for your answer, for something to tell him if he had won his second and final chance. He was too scared to move, every muscle locked into place and when you laughed, he knew. Those beautiful eyes turned up to him with fresh tears sparkling but happy. The sparkle was back, and he could drown in their depths if you’d only let him. He let out the breath he’d been holding, and his head bowed forward until his forehead rested against the gentle slope of your shoulder. The sound of laughter seemed to turn up the colours in his world, everything seemed far brighter, and he crushed you to him.

“Words are pretty and all, but if you really want me like you claim…” you mused whilst your arms weaved beneath his so your hands could trail the length of his spine with deliberate slowness. “… show me.”

He huffed a laugh whilst your unique scent tickled his nose. You were always challenging him, whether in small inconspicuous ways or in monumental ways that forced him to look inwardly and reassess his priorities. This was nothing new, and for the first time, he wanted nothing more than to rise to this particular challenge.

“With pleasure.” Kento turned his head, planting a series of wet kisses to your neck and savouring the stutter of your breathing. Your fingers stilled from where they were teasing near the space occupied by his belt, and he seized the chance to let his lips curl away from teeth. He licked a strip over your frantic pulse before sinking his teeth into you.

Your body shuddered, held up only by the support of the counter and Kento’s grip on you. The pain was short-lived as it gave way to pleasure, careful lips kissed away the lingering hurt and you were fast developing a second heartbeat between your legs. He was acting on instinct, that was the only explanation, and you wondered how far those instincts would take him. You wanted him to drive this, to do as requested and show you how much he wanted you, but that didn’t mean you were going to be some shrinking violet. Pulling him into a bruising kiss, you smiled into the depths of his mouth at the answering grunt from his chest.

~

A trail of clothes led from the kitchen to your bedroom, the door kicked shut by a polished shoe right before it was yanked off and left in a heap with socks and trousers. Your nimble fingers worked free the buttons of his shirt, loosened his tie enough to tug it over head just as he stripped you out of the sweatshirt that hung far too loosely on your body. Instead of discarding the yellow tie, you looped it over your head and let it hang between your breasts. Framed by lace and sensitive skin that was singing from his hurried touch, you silently thanked all that would listen for the decision to wear a bra at all, let alone the expensive one that was usually reserved for intimate encounters. How serendipitous of you…

Kento stopped in his tracks, completely overcome with the sight of you. Perfect skin yet unmarked by his touch, soft curves and his tie around your throat. This was better than any wet dream, far more hedonistic than the lewd thoughts that crept into his brain when he fisted himself in the lonely hours of the night. This was reality, and what could be better than that?

“You’re so beautiful. You’ve no idea how many times I wondered what this might be like… and nothing compares to this,” he enthused, taking your hand and leading it to the obvious bulge tenting his underwear.

He groaned when you curled your fingers around his erection through the fabric, hips bucking forward involuntarily. Grinning like the cat who got the cream, you moved higher to hook those same fingers into the waistband and tugged him close so you could feel his cock twitch against you.

Tumbling onto messy sheets followed easily, amidst breathless kisses and explorative hands. Everything was new and exciting, there seemed to be no inch of your exposed skin left untouched and that only left what was still covered. Kento’s breath fanned hot and heavy over the lace of bra, enough to tighten your nipples. Your spine arched from the bed when he licked over the cup and wet you with his saliva, his hand slipping to the small of your back to keep you there so that when his teeth nipped at you, you could only squirm.

He repeated the action on the other side, leaving you panting and desperate for friction. The palm at your spine wandered to the clasp of your bra and he paused, offering you eyes full of sincerity. “May I?”

Your heart seized in your chest. Where had you found this man? You’d never know a man to get you into bed and down to your underwear and still ask for permission to proceed. Any lingering thought that this might be a one off to scratch the itch that had buried deep beneath your skin disintegrated in an instant. There wasn’t a future you envisaged where you would give him up, not without a fight.

Cupping his face in both hands, you kissed him and whispered. “Touch me like nobody else does.”

A wet path trailed from your clavicle to right below your belly button, little bruises blooming in places and the indentation of fingertips in others. Kento looked like a God from his position between your thighs, his chin shiny from the arousal he coaxed from you using his surprisingly silver tongue. Blond tousled hair and ruddy cheeks, swollen lips and brown irises almost completely swallowed by midnight pupils. Sweat dripped from your temples whilst you floated back down to Earth, your fingers tangled in his hair once more and you felt him lean into the touch before crawling over you.

“Sweeter than honey…”

Your skin flushed hotter—not a feat you thought possible—at his words, followed by the taste of yourself on his tender lips. His tongue pushed deeper and deposited the tantalising tang directly onto your tastebuds. Your body cradled him; legs wound tight around his hips to indulge in his guttural groans when his cock moved through your swollen folds.

Precum and the mess he’d made of you hastened his movements, hips rutting downwards whilst he captured your hands and entwined your fingers at either side of your head. The velvet glide of his cock through your sex stole the air from your lungs, the tip teasingly torturing your already abused clit. His jaw was set in firm determination, and you huffed at the expression. There was no way this was ending without him fucking you, whether he realised or not.

“Kento… please.”

His eyes flew skyward, barely held restraint fraying with each subsequent mewl of want. He squeezed your fingers when you rocked your hips and shifted the position in an attempt to nudge him towards your entrance. Hearing you speak his name would always be his undoing, it had been like that since the very first time you addressed him as Kento. It had never sounded better than from your lips, and he shuddered at the inflection, at the desire written openly across your features. You didn’t hide from him, didn’t obscure your true feelings behind a mask. He wanted to return that, and whilst he might be new to be using so open, there was no better time to start.

“I’m scared,” he admitted.

You paused, blinking your eyes open to watch him above you. “Of what?”

“That… that if I cross this final line, I’ll never let you go. You deserve everything, and what if I can’t give you that?”

“Keep me forever, Kento. You don’t need to cross this line for me to know that I want to be by your side whilst you figure your life from here out. I want to be a part of it. Let me look after your heart and you’ll have given me everything I could ever ask for.”

He loved you. He knew it in the very centre of his soul, but there would be time for that declaration. Right now, wasn’t the time. “Now who sounds like they’re in a lovey-dovey romcom?” He teased, nudging your nose with his whilst his heart felt lighter than it had in forever.

You bit at his bottom lip, feigning a growl of annoyance whilst your eyes narrowed on him and the brilliant smile he gave you. Without warning, he moved and all at once he was exactly where he needed to be. Inch by slow inch, he eased into your body. You swore through the exquisite stretch, only silenced by his mouth which descended upon you hungrily.

It had been a while since you last had someone in bed with you, and despite being worked open by skilful fingers and tongue, it was still a snug fit. When he bottomed out, the coarse golden hairs at his pelvis rubbed at you with that delicious friction and stimulation, and you sighed in contentment. The fullness was welcome, and he fit you like a glove, like he was meant to have found his home here by now.

“O-okay?” He asked with a shake in his voice, and you nodded enthusiastically. The pace he set was slow, bone deep and so heartfelt that it seemed like your body merged with his. Kento spread your thighs further apart with his knees. He made every thrust count, hips angled to massage the sweet spot he’d discovered earlier.

You were clenched around him so hard that he swore he’d cum in record time, in fact, he was still astonished not to have spilled in his shorts when your first orgasm had wet his face. It was a moment he was likely to never forget and would be subject to many a dirty thought in years to come. He continued to be amazed at how expressive you were, and seemingly that didn’t end in the bedroom. It was refreshing. No one was like you, but that was okay because he had found you and even though he messed up, you were better than he ever could be. So sweet and joyful. You accepted him, flaws and all, and only offered him a helping hand.

Kento was lost in the sensation of being joined with you. His heart beat in time with yours, chests flush together whilst he took you higher and higher to completion. The orgasm approaching felt different to any before, it spread throughout his body like warm honey, and he glanced down at you in panic that he would find his end before you did.

“Fuck… there. Right there! Don’t stop… oh god, I’m gonna—Ken!”

His stomach dropped into his toes, the strength in his arms near failing him when you broke apart to milk him with sweet sucking pulls that he had never experienced before. The incessant pulsing was too much to deny, and he pulled out with a fierce growl that forced your eyes to snap wide. Kento sat back on his haunches, hand ready to wrap around his aching dick to pump the final few times and spill his seed, but he hadn’t counted on you leaning up on an elbow to reach him first. Your hot touch jolted electricity down his spine and the wet glide of his foreskin had barely reached down to the base before he was shooting his load across your quivering belly and thighs.

He moaned unabashedly and the sound thrilled you right down to your already overstimulated core. Both your eyes and his fixed on the sticky pool he was creating on your skin. His cheeks turned a burning red at the continuing spurts of cum that seemed to never want to end, until at last he was drained completely.

A moment of silence fell, only disturbed by your combined heavy breathing. Kento couldn’t find it in him to look you in the eye, a sense of embarrassment settling on his shoulders at the sheer mess he’d made. Clearly, he didn’t understand that you adored the painting he’d created. He was the paint, and you were the canvas. You scooped your finger through the creamy paint, tracing designs with his essence.

“I… I don’t know what to say now,” he said softly.

Your head canted, humming quietly whilst beckoning him to you with two grabby hands and not relenting until he flopped beside you. His face buried into the crook of your neck, forcing you to dig it out with laughter bubbling in your throat. Suddenly he was shy… adorable.

“Why say anything at all? We have all the time in the world for words. Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

He kissed your bare shoulder, reaching over you to his discarded shirt and using that to clean your stomach so he could cuddle you into his arms comfortably. You were right, there wasn’t much needed to be said right now, except he did have one question… “Did I show you?”

Throwing a leg over his hips and nuzzling his nose with yours, you smiled and gave a nod. “More than I expected. Although… next time, finish inside.”

Kento nearly choked on his saliva which only made you laugh more. His neck and ears burned white-hot, and you pretended not to notice whilst he looked everywhere but at you. “I’ll—uh—I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Mm, good because we have a lot of time to make up for and I intend to keep you in this bed until your legs give out.”

“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” he teased with a bark of laughter.

“Yep. So, I suggest you get used to it, love.”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

[lvstrucks]

breaks

lando norris x reader

Being a couple both of whose love languages were physical touch, you and Lando were no strangers to a bit of playfighting. Lando loved nothing more than to tackle you onto the soft surface of a sofa or bed and watch you squirm playfully, collapsing into a fit of giggles as you tried to take control of his strong form and make him do what you wanted. It was perhaps the only time Lando would allow his competitive side to slide, letting you pin him down and sit on his toned stomach in victory.

So it was nothing out of the ordinary when he leaned against the doorframe, watching you pad around the kitchen making dinner in one of his Quadrant t-shirts he felt a familiar burst of love begin to creep up his abdomen. It was a quiet Friday night before the Monaco Grand Prix, the both of you enjoying the comfort of being in your own apartment before what was sure to be a hectic weekend.

As soon as you put down the wooden spoon you'd been using to stir the dinner, he makes a beeline for you.

"Lovie," he half mumbles, half laughs into your shoulder as he scoops you off the floor.

"Lando!" you giggle, making a feeble attempt to shrug him off. "Stop, I'm making dinner," you protest, while really having no intention of making him stop.

Lando twists you around so he's holding you horizontally, gripping onto your waist and starts to spin you around so you can't reach to push him off.

"You just look so cuddly and cute dressed like that," he defends, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Just wanna love my girl a little."

You both shriek with laughter as he begins to spin you even faster. Lando's certain that hearing you laugh like that because of him is one of the best feelings he's ever had. He feels like he might be flying a little, until your left arm flicks out with the force of being spun and the sound of a crack against the marble counter stops him in his tracks.

"Baby?" He asks uncertainly as he sets you gently on your feet.

"Ow." you blink back tears. "That hurt. But I'm fi-"

You cut yourself off as your hearing becomes muffled.

"Lan, I can't..." you put both hands up to your ears, pressing as if to try and restore your hearing. It comes flooding back, along with a throbbing pain in your wrist as it pushes against your head.

"Fuck, baby. Fuck!" Lando says, snapping into action. Not only is his girlfriend clearly hurt, she got hurt under his care, and it was his fault too.

He grabs a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, pulling you gently over to a chair at the dining table and sitting you down. He hands you the bag of peas, gesturing for you to rest your hurt hand on it.

"Did it...always bend that way?" He asks quietly, face going pale as you both assess the situation. The tears begin to fall as the full brunt of the pain begins to hit and Lando is quick to lead you downstairs, getting you buckled into his car and running around to the driver's seat. 

It takes a little while longer than normal to get to the emergency room, as lots of roads have been closed off in preparation for qualifying tomorrow, and Lando drums his fingers impatiently on the wheel.

"Not long, baby. We're gonna get you some help, and they can give you something to help the pain, ok? I'm right here with you." He tries to reassure you.

Good as his word, Lando doesn't leave your side once. He holds your hand whilst they set your fractured wrist back into place, gritting his teeth and keeping quiet as your nails dig into the calloused skin of his hands. He rubs your back softly as they wrap a pink (as requested) cast around.

You sleep on the way home, suddenly exhausted now the pain meds have kicked in. Lando watches you quietly each time he stops at a red light. He feels sick to his stomach as the red glare catches the streaks of dried tears on your cheeks.

Once back in your apartment, Lando carries you bridal style up to the bedroom. He undresses you quickly, taking care not to bump your wrist as he pulls one of his shirts over your head, one of the softer ones that you love to sleep in.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles into your hair as he wraps himself around you. "I'm so, so, sorry."

You shake your head softly, waking up a little.

"I know you are, Lando. It was an accident."

"But I promised I'd never do anything to hurt you, and I broke it. I broke you." He frets.

You lean up and press a kiss to his pouty lips.

"It was an accident, both of us were being silly. I'm not upset at you, just upset it happened. So please don't beat yourself up about it, okay?" you say and Lando nods solemnly, snuggling down so your head is laying on his chest. He strokes your hair softly and you breathe in his scent, closing your eyes.

"Does it hurt? A lot?" Lando asks quietly into the darkness.

"No." you lie.

Although you'd assured Lando you were fine in the morning, ready to come and support him during qualifying, you were quickly deteriorating as the day dragged on. You found yourself sinking into a cushioned seat in the McLaren hospitality, beginning to shiver as the ache from your wrist travels up your arm. Lando is busy preparing for qualifying, but Adam is talking to an engineer and notices his son's girlfriend fading into herself and walks over to check on you.

"Everything ok?," he questions you. "Should I get Lando for you? He gave strict orders to interrupt him at any time if you weren't feeling well."

"I just need my next painkillers, I think." you say, trying to smile in a way you hope is reassuring. "Do you know where they ended up? I didn't bring a bag so Lando had them in his pocket when we arrived."

Adam tells you he will go and hunt down your meds, but unsurprisingly Lando spots his dad looking around and excuses himself from talking to Zak in the garage and jogs over to the hospitality.

"Baby, are you OK?" He asks, wrapping you in a gentle hug. You sigh, sinking into his chest and allowing him to hold you up.

"It's just..it's really starting to hurt now." you say, and his heart sinks at the sight of your bottom lip beginning to wobble.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says truthfully. "Do you want to go home and take a nap there? I can get someone to drive you now."

You shake your head stubbornly.

"I want to stay and see how you qualify. I just need some pain meds."

"They're in my driver's room with my clothes." He explains. "Do you want to come with me? I have that fold-down bed in there now, you can have a quick nap?"

You nod, allowing him to lead you into his room. Once there, he hands you your meds and then slips his comfy cable-knit sweater over your head to stop your shivering. He does his best to tuck you in all comfy, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'll come and wake you up in about an hour or so, ok?"

As he shuts the door behind him, he hears a soft "Thank you, Lan." He blows you a kiss, heading back to the garage.

When Lando comes back to wake you up, he's met with a much happier looking Y/N. You sit up on the bed, kissing his cheek and stretching.

"Do you have a pen anywhere? Or do you know where I can find one?" You ask.

Lando frowns, but gestures that he'll be one minute as he slips into Oscar's driver’s room for a second, returning with a Sharpie and handing it to you.

"What's it for?" He asks. "Are you going to vandalize McLaren to get me back?"

You giggle, standing up from the bed.

"I'm heading over to Red Bull," you explain, as if that would make any sense to Lando. "I'm going to see if I can get Max Verstappen to sign my cast. Ooh, and maybe I'll look for Charles too after."

"What?!" Lando splutters. He can't believe his ears. "You want Max and Charles to sign your cast before your own boyfriend? I know they were your favorites before we met, but have I made no progress?"

You laugh, flopping into him and leaning against his legs.

"It's because I don't want to exploit you, baby. I'm going to enjoy their signatures and then maybe sell the cast on eBay once it's off."

Lando bursts out laughing at your explanation, eyes squeezing shut as he holds you tight.

"My little businesswoman. Can I please be the first to sign it?" He asks.

You hand him the Sharpie, holding out your wrist to him. He takes it ever so gently and his tongue peeks out his mouth as he concentrates.

Twisting your arm around to read it, you grin as Lando looks proud of his work. Instead of signing as he would sign a hat or shirt for a fan, he's simply printed his name, followed by a collection of kisses and one wonky love heart. He lightly kisses your exposed fingers, then pats you cheekily on the bum as you pass him.

"Go get your signatures, baby."

thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated <3

#lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #lando norris angst #lando norris x you #formula one smau

[from-izzy]

[08:52] | nct lee donghyuck | haechan

“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.”

pairing » nct lee donghyuck (haechan) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, marriage!au, non-idol au!

genre » mildly (?; as compared to my latest one before) suggestive but mainly fluff, dad haechan and mum reader, fluffy aftercare morning, just a cute little scenario in the morning, husband haechan who loves you very much, gentle haechan who treats you well, haechan and you both get to be the little/big spoon

word count; estimated reading time » 1626; ~6 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » aftercare in the morning (continued from previous night), suggestive talk, reader wears haechan's clothes, reader has hair long enough to be tucked behind the ear, mentions of s*x; from previous night (no smut), haechan touches your lower body momentarily, abdominal cramps after s*x, (a ton of) kissing, pet names (baby girl, bubs), nicknames (hyuck), mildly (?) suggestive sentence at the end, haechan implied to be physically bigger, not proofread 😭

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

just a small little something because exam season got me going 🤸🤸🤸🤸

i have a feeling that the next story i release is going to be a long one and is going to be quite emotional (for me at least) so this is a little 180 before that happens!

The sun seeps through the small gaps between your curtain and the birds sing their songs too early for your liking; especially after what happened last night. Blinking your eyes open wasn’t effortful and so was satisfyingly yawning your sleep away. What your overused muscles did not like too much however was when you tried to sit up on the bed, your abdomen forcing your head to lay back on your pillow.

“Okay…” You chuckle to yourself, heat creeping onto your cheek when you remember the events of last night. A hand goes on top of your stomach, stroking your skin and remembering how someone else did the same thing to lull you back to sleep last night.

You turn your head towards that someone, an adoring smile on your face when you’re greeted with his messy morning hair and slightly gaped lips. You couldn’t help but lay on your side to admire Haechan’s features, his relaxed and light snoring making your heart beat faster. His eyelashes took your attention and you couldn’t help but brush the posterior side of your index finger along it, unfortunately stirring him into consciousness.

“Sorry,” You quickly apologised, scooting over closer to him to share some body warmth. You gently pulled his head to your chest, cradling and blocking the sun behind you from reaching him and playing with his black strands, humming a quiet song while your other hand patted his back.

Haechan satisfactorily groans at his wife’s loving touch, snuggling over to bury his nose between the pillow and the crook of your neck, “Morning, bubs.”

“Good morning, Hyuck,” pressing a kiss to the top of his hairline.

“How was your sleep?” His morning voice was still evident, deep and husky; almost like last night but in a more tame and most definitely more innocent way.

“Too good.”

You feel the smirk on your skin as Haechan leans into you to pamper kisses all over the curve of your shoulder, “Yeah?” Up towards your jawline to your chin. His tongue runs free a little bit when he reaches your bottom lip before lightly biting it. “You like that?” Asking after hearing you gasping and closing your eyes. “Baby girl, didn’t get enough action last night?”

A hand sneaks up past your waist, pulling his oversized shirt up and immediately finds its way on your lower body down to your ass. You couldn’t help but whine slightly when Haechan spread his fingers around one of your cheeks, his palm warmer than your body. He lightly grips your body, so differently from last night, and you can’t help but tilt your head down to kiss him as he reminds you of last night. 

You got lost in his lips treating yours so gently, making sure that he pours all his love into you. But as the intensity increased, you forgot about the lower body pain and your husband was alarmed by the way you pulled away suddenly, flopping over on your back with the crease between your eyebrows evident.

Haechan gives you space, backing away just enough to get a proper look at you. He props up to one elbow against the bed, a hand tucking your hair behind your ears, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, a reassuring smile forming on your lips as soon as you see the worry in his eyes. A hand cups Haechan’s jawline, pulling him closer for a kiss. Just like before, Haechan didn’t stop giving you light reminders of his love around your face this time: the tip of your nose, forehead, eyelids and anywhere he could reach without hurting you. The hand that held your lower body moments before is now over the weighted blanket over you both, and he strokes the cotton to where your stomach is below.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, bubs.”

“You didn’t. Don’t apologise for that, Hyuck.” You immediately attempt to reassure his worries, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t, bubs.”

But Haechan still couldn’t help but pout again and you mirror his expression more exaggeratedly in hopes of making the situation lighter; to make sure he knows that he took care of you well straight after as well and that last night shouldn’t be something he should apologise about.

“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.” A light blush spread across his face and you giggled at the way he face dived into his cushion, red and shy. “Pulling me onto your lap, letting me rest on your shoulder while you dressed me and messaging my body.” 

“Were you okay?” You heard him over the pillow, “I tried to be as gentle as possible.”

“You were super gentle with me,” You nod, acknowledging him, “Non-stop kissing me and telling me that I’m beautiful.”

Haechan turns his head to you, a slight look of confusion on his face, “I’m just stating facts though?”

A push against his shoulder and a light melodic laugh is what you give him. Haechan joins in the laughter, and his hand over your stomach begins to move, his fingers rising and falling delicately. You both just stare at each other, commuting through your eyes the upturned corners of your lips. It wouldn’t be for too long though because this time, it’s your turn to be the little spoon, imitating exactly what you did before plus the addition of his whispers of sweet nothings against your ears. You indulge yourself in his warmth and his natural scent that reminds you of safety and home. The blanket is adjusted, Haechan pulling it up just underneath your eyes and you could swear you could slumber back to sleep at this moment. 

The door clicks open then and there, Haechan’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the little one. The younger girl runs to her parent’s bed like usual but stops in her tracks when Haechan puts a palm out towards her hurriedly, “Don’t jump on the bed, little bean.”

“Why…?” Sadness laced her voice.

“Mumma is in a little bit of pain at the moment,” You peek up behind your blanket, saying a quick greeting to what Haechan would say is a mini version of you. “Come over on this side,” Tapping an empty spot on his side of the bed.

Soon, your child slumps over your husband’s figure, chin resting on his biceps as she looks over to you sadly, “Mumma, are you alright?”

“I am, baby, don’t worry.” You outstretched an arm towards your child, patting her head and successfully putting a smile on your face.

“Whoever hurts my mumma will have to go through me!”

Oh, if only she knew.

“You can’t beat, dadda, bean.” 

…oh my. 

You mentally face-palmed at the conversation unfolding before you. As your child lightly slaps your husband’s arm and asks for a reason why you’re bedridden, you can’t help but hide your face behind your blanket. You hear your husband panicking and stuttering, trying his best to go around the topic whilst also giving her a proper explanation that no, Haechan would never hurt you in that way.

“Dadda! You said you would always take care of mumma!”

“I-I do!”

“Then what is this?” She points at you, “Get away from mumma!”

You could no longer contain your laughter and it was the reason why your child stopped reprimanding her dad. Seeing you smile and laugh was the only reassurance that your child needed because she no longer gave her dad slaps and Haechan mentally thanked you for getting him out of that situation.

But seeing your child awake also reminded you of the time and the empty belly that she must have. Your mother instincts kicked in and your stomach cramp didn’t matter with her in your sight, “Alright, mumma will get up now.” 

“Hey, hey, no you’re not.” Haechan takes hold of your shoulder, grabs the corner of the blanket from the other side of the bed and pulls it to your chest. He hovers above you, heart-shaped eyes decorating his gaze on you. His arm stays there to lock you in, “I’ll take care of her. Just rest, bubs.”

“Hyuck, it’s fine.”

“No.” He curtly responded. “Stay here. I’ll take care of the little gremlin.” 

“Dadda!” So maybe it wasn’t as quiet and subtle as he thought it was. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Haechan pinches your daughter’s cheek, “Go to the kitchen. Dadda will meet you there with your favourite breakfast.” It didn’t take a second for her to jump out the bed, excited screaming and variations of ‘yay’s echoing your room, the hallway and soon, basically your whole house.

“Are you sure she’s not your mini me?” 

Haechan playfully scoffs, rolling his eyes at your question. “And what about my lovely wife? What breakfast do you want?”

“I’m not too hungry yet.” Feeling your eyelids becoming heavy once more as you exhale lightly from your lips, “I’ll make brunch later.”

Haechan hums at your thoughts and slips out from the shared blanket. The disappearance of the secure warmth and the weight of his hand on your stomach wasn’t the best but you’re aware of the parental duties that must be addressed first. As Haechan finally stands and stretches his limbs in the air, he doesn’t forget to give you a final kiss on the lips, staying there for a while, separating to look at you before planting another one.

“You shouldn’t want anything, baby girl,” Your slight eyebrow raise only made him smirk. And as you thought you would be able to go back to being sound asleep for another hour, Haechan just had to make your brain and heart go haywire, “Not with how I filled you up last night.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

#k-labels #k-films #haechan x reader #haechan x you #haechan smut #haechan suggestive #lee donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan soft hours #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck smut #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #haechan scenarios #haechan #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct drabbles #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut

[astralis-ortus]

thunders of rage

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡

the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.

from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.

“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.

“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”

“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.

so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.

“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.

something stresses you out. bad.

“sure.”

chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”

“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”

the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.

“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.

“you should cool off too.”

and with that, chris left.

it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.

you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.

thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.

but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.

“baby, i’m ho—”

chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”

“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”

peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.

you felt like crap.

“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”

“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”

the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.

some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.

you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.

“kiss me.”

a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids comfort #skz comfort #bang chan comfort #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #stray kids au #skz au #bang chan au #stray kids drabbles #skz drabbles #bang chan drabbles #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids #skz #bang chan

[starsofang]

Just wanted to ask about the autistic!reader promt. How would the dynamic be if it was a poly!141 relationship including them. It doesn't have to be gender specific or anything but just wanted to know your view on it.

this is over a week late but i am HERE

Price is definitely the one who keeps you at bay and provides you a safe space when you need it. For example, he knows how rowdy Soap and Gaz can be when they're paired together, so when you show up at his office with a distant look and trembling hands that are just itching to fiddle with something, he lets you sit in his lap while he writes up paperwork, embracing you in comforting silence. If you weren't in a mood where you wanted to be touched, he lets you rest in one of his chairs, allowing you to fidget around with one of his pens, clicking and unclicking it until it calmed the itch. He only ever asks you what happened once you seemed less overwhelmed.

He loves showing his affection through little actions like kissing your forehead, holding you in his lap, or surprising you with things for you to fidget with, since he knows you love them.

All in all, he's the one you go to for peace and quiet because he knows how overbearing the world can be, having the weight of it on your shoulders, and he never wants you to stress yourself out to the point of shutting down.

Ghost is the one who seems to understand you the most. He's the one you can open up to when you feel like exploding, and he never expresses judgement when you need a moment to break down and let it all out. He can tell when it's about to happen, so he always sneaks you away from the other men to get you alone, allowing you the chance to crack because he knows you need it. He's patient, attentive, and always caters to your needs. He's busy? Doesn't matter, he'll drop everything he's doing to be there, no matter how much it may set him back. You may not be so open with talking about your inner thoughts with Price, but with Ghost, you almost always share them, and it always leaves you feeling more at ease than before.

He shows his affection through lingering touches and attention. While some of the attention is physical, such as kissing your hands and holding them in both of his, some of it also has to deal with noting any quirks or interests you have. He loves to surprise you with things such as a plushie from your favorite show, or remembering how you like your eggs cooked. He remembers everything about you and never fails to make it aware that he does.

Gaz is the one who's a bit more on the softer side when it comes to you. His love is tender and sweet, and when you're feeling in a clingy, affectionate mood, you love going to him because he'll provide without a second thought. Whether it's sitting and watching your favorite movies together, or sharing soft kisses with no pressure of it escalating to more (unless you're the one who wants it), he does it all for you. Cuddling you for an extra five minutes in the morning, showering you with loving words, sending you cute messages when he's supposed to be in meetings - not a day goes by where he doesn't do this for you.

He loves showing affection through pet names. Dove, sweetheart, bunny, anything that reminds him of you, he calls you that. He never calls you by your name, nor will he ever, because those names are reserved for you and he intends to keep it that way.

Soap is the one you can have fun with. While you can of course do this with the others, he's the one that lets you go all out. Definitely matches your energy the most. When you're feeling talkative, he doesn't sit in silence. He joins the conversation with keen interest, adding his own thoughts, gushing over your favorite things with you. He devotes all of his attention to you, and nothing else matters in the world. The fun doesn't stop there, though, and when you take on a new fixation, he supports you. A great example would be baking. He knows nothing about it, but if it means standing in the kitchen with you with flour covering your cheeks and hands, he'd do it a million times over.

He loves showing his affection through quality time. He always has to be around you. On days where you're understimulated, he'll smother you with all the love he can give, whether that be kissing you, snuggling up to you in bed or on the couch, or tracing the outlines of your features with gentle fingers. When you are too stimulated for his touch, he'll linger near you, always keeping you in sight, smiling brightly at you, and silently focus his attention on you until you're ready.

All of them play their roles differently, but they're all important. Being in a relationship with all four of them is bound to be overwhelming, more often than not, but they all cater to your every need in whatever ways you have to have it for that day, and they all love you in their own ways <3

#angie's requests #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #john soap mactavish #cod imagine #cod drabble #poly141 #autistic!reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #cod mw3 #ghost cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader

[arthursdolly]

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! afab/fem reader . age gap . arthur just tellin u how pretty u are

arthur was a man of a few words, being more of a man of action. he was older, too. but that's okay, u always had a sort of thing towards older men. he was always super kind and caring towards u by checking on u, helping u with chores, and he just took good care of u and it made u fall in love with him all over again!!

arthur wasn't too affectionate with u during the day. u didn't mind it. u know why.

u knew he was just nervous since no one really knew about his romantic relationship with u and because he was super busy in his rough line of work. he wasn't sure about how the gang would feel about it, with u being younger than him. so it was kept between u and him only. u just had ur eyes set on him and him only.

although he wasn't afraid to touch u on the passing. he'd move u gently out the way by ur hips if he had to get by. his big hands would often brush urs. making u feel the little butterflies in ur stomach, he knew what he was doing to u, and he was so enjoying it - even if he didn't tell u. he adored u all embarrassed:( uo him, it was cute.

by the time the sky darkens into pitch black, members slowly turning in for the night is when arthurs like a different man. he got more a lot comfortable when there were fewer prying eyes around. they way he got all handsy made u often made ur heart skip a beat, the hands of a killer that showed gentleness and kindness like a proper gentleman would.

so here u were around the campfire, straddling ur lover's lap as u and him have a whispers of a conversation. small fit of giggling and laughing left ur lips. oh, arthur was just a tease with u! with his hands or his words, he knew how to treat u just fine.

soon, he leaned into ur ear again, the faint scent of tobacco and whiskey filling ur nose. “yer such a pretty girl, darlin.” u soon felt ur cheeks redden at his words as a smile graced ur lips. “thank you. 'nd yer handsome too." u replied, kissing his cheek as u wrapped an arm around his neck, and he chuckled. “ah, i ain't all that... yer my pretty girl.” he says as he gently pulled u closer to him by ur hips.

he then leans down, pressing soft kisses on ur neck. “yer real pretty... especially in that dress i bought fer ye a while ago.” he murmurs, gently feeling the vibration from his voice. u looked away out of embarrassment as u felt ur face heat up. “ain't lyin' neither. yer jus' too pretty f'me, my angel.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #crazyfrm

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Said, I was sorry

Summary: You’re pissed at Dean, and Sam and Bobby find it amusing.

Word count: 0.9k

A/n: Once more not my favorite, but still hope you guys enjoy :)

༺═────────────═༻

The silence you gave off aggravated Dean to a higher level. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d apologized, tried to cheer you up with a slice of pie, he even listened to both Sam and Bobby on how he could make it up to you. 

But to no avail, you barely spoke to the poor man. 

He knew it was his fault, anyone could have told him that. In fact you reminded him plenty of times on the ride back from the case. God, that ride back to Bobby’s was dreadful, you made Sam sit in the backseat and wouldn’t even let Dean turn his music up all the way either. 

But, he would take that as punishment, if that would mean you would speak to him again. 

“So,” Bobby started, voice low as he watched you leave the small library of his. “What did you do to her?”

Sam bit back a laugh, hand coming up to his his smile from his brother. “Shut up.” Dean told him, hands coming up to rub his face. The long quiet drive back having drained his battery. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bobby leaned against the desk, arms crossed over the other as he stared at the younger man. “What do you mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’? She’s barley looked or even spoken to you since you’ve been here. Now, what the hell did you do?”

“I- I messed up on the hunt, ok.” He finally told him, head hanging low for a second before meeting the man’s eyes again. “We were hunting the shapeshifter, and we were lead to an old drinking well out at a farm.”

Dean let out a deep sigh before continuing, “And you know Sam and I were to big and too heavy to go down the well, so Y/n had to do it.”

“So you, what? Forced her down the well, threw her down?” 

“No.” Dean muttered, slowly pacing the small library. “No, we tied a rope around her and we hoisted her up and over into the well, and-“

“We?” Sam asked, a playful smile dancing across his lips. “I think I went back to the farm house and tried to find the shapeshifter.”

“Ok, then, I hoisted her up and into the well.” He corrected, shooting an annoyed look at his brother. “And it was going great, I had a firm grip on the rope, she didn’t slip. But…”

Bobby quirked an eyebrow, “But?”

“But, we found the rope in an old shed, and as I was lowering her down the well, I saw- I felt a uh.” Dean lowered his voice, embarrassment seeping its way into his body. “A spider.”

“A what?”

“A spider.” Dean told him a bit louder. 

Bobby looked between both Dean and his brother, taking in the shame one had and the other trying to hold in his laughter. “Dean, what did you do?”

“I let go of the rope, by accident.”

A chuckle forced its way past his lips, a hand coming up to hide his ever growing smile. “So, what your telling me is that you dropped Y/n down a water well, because you saw a spider?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Dean tried to defend himself, his tone rising as both Sam and Bobby erupted into fits of laughter. “It crawled up my hands, got under my shirt. It was gonna bite me.”

“She had to ride the whole way here in soggy clothes, because we didn’t bring any dry clothes with us.” Sam told Bobby, 

Bobby laughed a bit more at the younger man actions, a hand coming up to wipe away at his eyes. “Look kid, just be nice to her, she’ll have to forgive you sooner or later.” He told Dean, keeping his voice low as he heard you make your way back to them. 

You came back with three beers in hand, passing two off to both Sam and Bobby before opening your own. Dean held out his hand expecting you to place a glass bottle in it for him, but just watched as you sit behind the desk taking slow deliberate sips of your drink. 

“I would like a beer.” Dean told you, hand coming back down to rest by his side. 

“Ran out.” You told him bluntly, flicking through a book that sat on top the desk. 

Dean pulled his lips into a thin line, dodging both Sam and Bobby’s eyes. “What do we have?” He asked, needing something to quench his thirst. 

You looked up at the older man, pretending to ponder the question. “We have water.”

“Then can I have water?” A cough came from his side, glancing over he caught Bobby and Sam giving him a look. “Please?”

A sigh left your lips before you got up once more, disappearing past the doorway and into the kitchen. “See,” Bobby told him, taking a quick sip of his beer. “Just be a little nice and she’ll forgive you in no time.”

You retured quickly, placing a cup onto the bookshelf next to Dean. Reaching over he picked up the cup, twisting it in front of him, a small scowl resting on his face as he faced you. “This is ice, Y/n.”

“Yep.” You told him, returning to your seat. 

“I asked for water.”

“You can wait.”

Dean let out a sigh, placing the cup back onto the bookshelf, “I can wait.”

#castiel #crowley #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #lucifer spn #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #castiel x reader #crowley x reader #lucifer supernatural #spn fanfic #spn rewatch

[watevermelon]

A Beautiful Cage | Sunday x Reader

✧ Summary: You woke up in this beautiful dream, memories lost with a handsome man claiming to be your husband.

➳ Spoilers for the 2.2 Penacony update! ➳ Warnings: Dark!Sunday x Amnesiac Reader; Yandere writing liberties :) ➳ Navigation

“My beautiful Sparrow, welcome back.”

You stared at the man, blinking twice without words as his affection for you shined like the halo upon his head. The grip he had on your hand fell with each beat of your prolonged silence, a new sort of desperation growing at the corners of his lips. Your heart broke at the sight, despite not even knowing his name.

“I’m sorry. Do I… know you?” You asked back, sitting up in the bed and only now noticing your surroundings.

The sterile smell and beeping monitors confirmed the worst. Beside you sat someone whom you felt an inexplicable connection to, a pull in your heart that stirred up warning bells, yet their face brought no specific memories.

Everything about him exuded importance, from the fine fabric and intricate details of his clothes to the matching halo and ethereal wings. He almost looked like an angel, a being of celestial grace and authority.

The man in question grimaced, but continued. “My name is Sunday. Do you remember my face?”

Sunday, like the last day of the week.

The day of rest.

“I’m sorry, no.” Your forehead creased in strain, as if the physical action could bring it all back. A worse revelation crossed your mind, “I don’t even remember my own name.”

“Then I will help you remember, my dear Sparrow.” He spoke gently, repeating the term of endearment as he lifted your hand to his lips. A silent warning bell in your subconscious screamed at you to pull away, but you ignored it to instead stare into his handsome, golden eyes.

“Please, stop me if this becomes overwhelming for you.” Sunday warned before explaining further, “You are my wife. And because of my position in this world, you are often put in danger. And unfortunately, I was not able to protect you from an attack.”

You stayed silent as Sunday continued on, describing in small detail the life you shared together. 

Your name and the world you chose to stay in, Penacony.

A dreamlike world where many partied their days away, celebrities and the affluent from around the universe sharing in one lavish adventure.

And Sunday, the head of the Oak family.

You could hardly believe his words, a world where people were able to freely pursue their dreams. 

The hesitation must have been seen on your face, since the kind stranger had countered with a simple phrase. “Let me show you.”

Gold lined the streets as far as the eye could see, casting a radiant glow across the entire cityscape. Fantastical roads floated in the sky above, while buildings were illuminated in a dazzling golden radiance.

Golden Hour, the name for the area, was aptly so. 

You stared dumbly in different directions, taking in the fantastical view and the lively bustle of people moving from store to store. Street performers graced nearly every corner, their music blending into a harmonious soundtrack that filled the vibrant, diverse heart of the city.

Sunday lifted an open palm towards you, the corners of his lips curling into a soft smile as if inviting your touch. As you placed your hand over his, you felt the gentle pressure of his grip matching your own tenderness. His hand felt cold and unfamiliar, but you brushed aside the discomfort, chalking it up to your amnesia.

“It’s Mr. Sunday!” A child yelled in excitement, jumping up and down as his company of other children turned at his words.

Suddenly there was a crowd of children, all surrounding your supposed husband and asking for his autograph. A weight on your heart felt lighter, seeing strangers confirm the words of the one person who was influencing your entire outlook on your new life. 

Sunday was essentially a stranger, but now the only person you could rely on.

You needed truths and as the crowd grew larger, you could confirm that this man was honest in his words earlier.

“Are you alright, Miss?” One of the children turned and asked you.

Another joined in on the conversation, “Mr. Sunday said you were hurt! Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.” You kept your response kind, but short.

Sunday weaved his way through the short crowd, back to your side. "Please excuse us as we must depart promptly. My sincere apologies, but my dear wife has endured considerable challenges."

“Awww, he loves you!” A squeal broke out from the back, making you unconsciously blush.

Sunday simply smiled, before waving goodbye and leading you on your way.

Sunday resided in a grand estate, passing libraries adorning the walls as he guided you to your shared bedroom. You admired the opulent furniture, once again accented with gold. As Sunday removed his outer layers, you seized the opportunity to survey the room. Framed pictures — your wedding, a festival, and one with a third person who looked much like Sunday —moments that, regrettably, eluded your recognition.

Your husband emerged from the other room silently, regarding you with that same small smile as he drew closer.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember.” You spoke first, genuinely frustrated that your memories were taken from you. “It’s alright.” He reassured you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Can I try something to help you?”

You nodded in quiet affirmation, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as Sunday leaned closer. His breath mingled with yours, warm and comforting, as he pressed a soft kiss against the tip of your nose before gently lowering his lips to meet yours. The kiss was tender, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, delicate and fleeting, as if both of you were hesitant to disrupt the tranquility of the moment.

But as the warmth of the embrace enveloped you, a surge of emotion ignited within, fueling the kiss with a newfound intensity. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and longing, as Sunday's hand found its way to the back of your neck, his touch both gentle and possessive. With each brush of his lips against yours, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you locked in a timeless embrace.

But it was not enough.

“I love you, my Sparrow.” He murmured against your lips. “Whatever you come to need, I will provide it. Lest it be my time, my affection, or even if you perhaps… need space.”

A pang of bittersweet ache tugged at your heart as you processed those last words. It was undeniable how much Sunday loved you, his actions speaking volumes and allowing you the space and freedom if that was what you wanted. It was a sacrifice born out of love, a silent vow to stand by your side no matter the outcome, even as your heart yearned for the completeness that only the restoration of your memories could bring.

But a life without him… did not feel right?

“No, please. I want you by my side.” 

It was a small concession, but the radiant smile that blossomed across Sunday's face filled even you with an infectious joy. He leaned in, pressing a series of gentle kisses along the side of your cheek, each one eliciting a soft laugh from your lips as you savored the delightful sensation. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the warmth of his affection, all worries and uncertainties melted away, leaving behind only the sweet embrace of shared laughter and unspoken love.

You snuggled into his arms at night, the sensation unfamiliar but not unwelcome. As you closed your eyes and drifted into slumber, a relentless melody began to crescendo, growing louder and more insistent until it engulfed your consciousness, becoming the sole sound echoing through the corridors of your dreams.

A woman's voice, light and airy, infused with hope, danced through the recesses of your mind, casting a shimmering veil over your thoughts.

Who was that woman?

And why was she the only memory your mind could recall?

You devoured every book available on Penacony and its rich history, spending countless days ensconced within the walls of your private library. Sunday had even offered recommendations, guiding you towards enlightening reads detailing the intricate tapestry of the Oak family and the other prominent families that shaped the fabric of Penacony's past.

A dream, tantalizing in its promise, offering individuals the chance to manifest and fulfill their deepest desires, but with a caveat—access granted solely through the family's invitation.

But there was nothing of note regarding your situation.

Instead, you found yourself falling into rhythm into Sunday’s life.

You slotted into his life easily, either accompanying Sunday for work or even venturing out on your own. Some days, you would visit his office as he tirelessly worked and meticulously planned for the upcoming Charmony festival. Or, on easier days, strolled through the familiar streets of Penacony as he encouraged you to immerse yourself in the surroundings in hopes of triggering memories.

In each interaction, it was evident the deep love and devotion Sunday held for his people and his beloved city of Penacony. He listened attentively to even the most mundane complaints from others, offering genuine empathy and understanding. His concern and unwavering commitment to his people were palpable, leaving a heartwarming impression on all who encountered him.

It seemed like he was perfect in every way possible.

Life with Sunday was sweet, easy even.

And yet, there was an insistent hammering in your heart, a relentless pulse that sent waves of unease through your entire being.

Every night without fail, you continued to hear that insistent melody, a haunting refrain that seemed to echo from the depths of your past. You couldn't fathom why your mind clung to this particular fragment of memory and it nearly drove you to anger. You had lived an entire life, rich with experiences and emotions, yet it was a single song that your memory chose to preserve. Why not Sunday, or the life you had shared together? 

What was the importance of this song?

You found yourself unconsciously humming along to this song even as you traversed Penacony. It was another day with Sunday off attending to business, leaving you to your own devices. You appreciated his willingness to let you explore Penacony independently; it allowed you to experience the city's vibrancy through your own eyes, unfiltered by anyone’s perceptions and unburdened by expectations. The freedom to form your own impressions was a gift, even as the familiar tune haunted your every step.

How could you possibly be suspicious of your husband when he was giving you all this freedom?

Your eyes swept appreciatively across the cityscape until they paused in one direction. You halted immediately, a small tendril of suspicion blossoming into body-wide panic as you recognized the woman standing before you.

In your heart of hearts, you remembered her name.

Robin.

Instantly, an unrelenting pain seared through your brain, but you resisted the urge to duck down, clutching your head as you stared at the woman. She locked eyes with you, surprise flashing across her face before she began running in your direction.

“Robin?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but the woman wrapped her arms around your middle.

Her hug felt deeply familiar, like the comforting embrace of home after a long, perilous journey. It was as if her arms wrapped not just around your body, but around your weary soul, offering solace and a sense of belonging that you had desperately missed.

You continued. “Robin, I… Lost all my memories. You are the only person I’ve recognized so far.”

Robin's face contorted in pain, worry deepening with every word you spoke. She looked you over, inspecting every inch to ensure you were unhurt. Satisfied, she hugged you again tightly before gently patting your heart.

“Robin?” You asked again, but the woman only looked at you and tilted her head in question.

“Are you… unable to speak?”

Yes.

She nodded her head, making you take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. “Is it because of me?”

No.

“I… We should tell Sunday!” You attempted to look for a solution, but she frowned and kept nodding her head no. “Does he already know?

Yes.

“... Will you come back home with me? I don’t remember you fully, but in my heart it feels like I’ve missed you.”

She nodded eagerly, making you a bit more suspicious of her intentions.

You walked side-by-side, making your way back to your shared abode with Sunday, enveloped in a familiar atmosphere. In the absence of her voice, you took it upon yourself to fill the air with conversation, enough for the both of you. You recounted how you had awoken without a single memory, with Sunday faithfully by your side. You described his love and devotion, his unwavering care for your every need.

This felt familiar, being with Robin. However, why now? 

Why hadn’t she visited you before?

A part of your mind stuttered, hesitating to confide in Robin about the ominous feeling gnawing at your heart regarding everything that was happening. What if she took her brother's side? Perhaps it was wiser to keep silent, hesitant to disclose your apprehensions, especially considering the possibility that she might be collaborating with him.

You walked into the foyer with Robin and she led you further into the home, into a library with a large desk that had a model of all of Golden Hour.

It was evident that she was on a mission, striding purposefully forward without the slightest hint of hesitation as she surveyed the towering bookcases that lined the walls of the library. Sensing her focused energy, you allowed her to proceed in silence, observing her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Recognition flashed behind her eyes and she grabbed something resting on the shelf, a rectangular object, before quickly thrusting it at you.

“What do you want me to do with this?” You asked with confusion, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Silent yet urgent, she swiftly took charge and reached to open the flap of your jacket, deftly slipping the object into the pocket before pressing a single pointer finger against her lips, signaling for you to maintain absolute silence.

You shook your head in confusion, near begging for more information. “Silent from who?”

From Sunday?

Or from someone else in Penacony?

But a now familiar voice was heard at the door frame.

“My dear sister, I didn’t know you’d be visiting our home today. Not that I’m not grateful, but I would have stayed home to greet you upon your arrival.” Sunday greeted you both with his customary kind smile, a warm familiarity washing over you. He approached, embracing his sister first in a lingering hug before turning to your side, where he offered you a greeting kiss on the forehead.

“My offer to stay in this home still stands, dear sister.”

Their relationship appeared to be fine, even close. Perhaps Robin hadn’t intended to keep the matter silent from Sunday? However, as Robin bid you both goodbye and you found yourselves alone, you made the conscious decision to remain quiet about the object, keeping it tucked away in your pocket like a silent reminder.

The following day, you ventured out of the mansion and found yourself in a cafe. Uncertain about the object nestled in your pocket, you hesitated to even retrieve it, opting instead to keep your hand inside, fingers lightly brushing against its surface as you inspected it solely through touch.

Nothing about it seemed special, just a rectangular object shrouded in mystery.

Dumbfounded, you exited the cafe, pondering the possibility of researching the object. Was there a library somewhere in Penacony that might hold more information? A tendril of apprehension tightened in your heart as you recalled that the only library you had encountered thus far was the one within your own home.

“Ah, his little songbird.” A voice, unfamiliar, broke you out of your reverie.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked back genuinely.

“Perhaps in another lifetime.” The woman continued, looking you up and down with a smirk on her face.

She was beautiful, even enough to make you feel self conscious. The woman stood tall with porcelain skin contrasting the lavender hues that cascaded down her back. Her gaze nearly matched her hair, a captivating blend of colors with red striking you like the flames of a hypnotic fire.

“My name is Black Swan.” She stated simply, inspecting your eyes as if to see if there was any recognition behind them.

But instead, you blinked twice, uncertainty clouding your thoughts as you awaited her next words, unsure of where she was leading the conversation.

“That’s unfortunate.” She commented on your eyes, once vibrant when she last saw you. “But I believe you have a souvenir of mine.”

Your hand clenched around the rectangular object, a surge of apprehension coursing through you. The thought of broaching the subject with Sunday seemed fraught with risk. Why would you entertain the idea of confiding in a stranger?

“I know you don’t trust me. But would it help if I told you a fellow songbird and I gave it to you?”

Robin.

You paused, looking left and right before stepping closer. 

“Hold on.” She spoke softly, her words accompanied by a gentle hand on your wrist, guiding you away from the bustling streets of Golden Hour. Through winding paths and intricate puzzles, she led you, each twist and turn revealing new secrets and hidden passages.

“It isn’t safe here either, but at least now we’re away from the eyes of the bloodhounds.”

Huh?

Though you couldn’t quite comprehend it, with each passing moment in the company of this stranger, you found yourself inexplicably at ease. There was a sense of trust that seemed to grow between you, as if she were a steadfast ally in this labyrinthine journey. You held up the rectangular object in your palms, and she made no move to take it from your grasp, respecting your agency and the significance of the item to you.

She put her hand over the object, “This is an empty light cone. Light cones hold memories, moments in time that were long forgotten even by the user.”

Your eyes shot up in interest, but you did not interrupt her.

“Tell me, do you enjoy this dream?” She asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Be honest with me, songbird.”

You paused, given the first true opportunity to speak your mind. “I enjoy being here, but something doesn't feel complete.”

“Have you noticed something strange since you first awoke here?”

“Like what? 

“Remember. A major flaw in the story you have experienced.”

Your frustration grew, “I can only recall the last few weeks, I can’t go back any further.”

Black Swan fixed her gaze upon you, her eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity as she spoke. “Think back to what you know. Where did you start this story?”

“I was in a hospital, here in Penacony.”

In response, she arched a single eyebrow, a silent indication that there was more to your statement than met the eye.

“And a death in Penacony means what?” She asked slowly.

You strained to recall the answer to that question, your mind rifling through the wealth of knowledge gleaned from the books you had devoured upon awakening. In this dream realm, death held no sway, its specter banished from the bounds of this surreal reality. Your heart quickened with anticipation as the answer began to crystallize in your mind.

“It means returning back to reality.”

If your injuries were indeed severe enough to land you in a hospital bed, on the edge of your life and stripped of your memories, why hadn't you simply returned to reality?

Or rather, why hadn’t Sunday brought you back to reality?

“Wake up, songbird. Break free from this eternal dream.”

Your consciousness plunged beneath the surface instantly, submerged in the depths of an endless ocean. With each stroke, you struggled against the weight of the water, yearning for the surface just out of reach. Yet, propelled by an unseen force, your mind surged forward, propelled by the current of your subconscious.

.

.

.

You coughed up air, gasping for breath as you struggled to fill your lungs, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you in waves. 

Where the hell were you?

You found yourself seated in a pool of water within the confines of a colossal oyster, a fleeting memory flickering in your mind—a recollection of this being the entrance to the Dreamscape.

You were back in reality.

The room was tastefully decorated, with screens displaying a serene beachside view and lush green plants adorning the corners. A cozy fireplace added warmth and ambiance to one wall. It became evident that this was your personal space, as stacks of books adorned every available surface.

As you meticulously combed through the books, your fingers trembled with anticipation, a sense of dread beginning to gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. Each page turned revealed nothing but mundane details, no hint of Sunday's potential duplicity. Yet, the oppressive silence of the room seemed to press in on you, suffocating and thick with apprehension.

Nobody should have knowledge of your clandestine presence, save for Black Swan, yet the hollow echo of a knock shattered the stillness, reverberating through the room like a harbinger of doom. Each rap upon the door sent shivers racing down your spine, your heartbeat thundering like a drumbeat of impending dread.

Was it Sunday?

Was he going to force you back into the Dreamscape?

Hesitation rooted you on the spot, hand trembling as it hovered over the doorknob. Fear coiled in your chest like a venomous serpent, paralyzing your every movement. But the relentless knocking persisted, growing louder and more insistent with each passing second, until it felt as though the very walls themselves were closing in.

“Sparrow, are you alright?”

Sunday.

And yet he sounded… concerned?

His genuinely distressed tone had a disarming effect, causing your guard to falter. With a hesitant hand, you reached for the doorknob, feeling it's cool metal beneath your fingertips. 

Even with your slow movements, Sunday hadn’t rushed to open the rest of the door. His voice was gentle, “My love, were you attacked again?”

What?

Did you awaken here the last time you were attacked?

You met Sunday's gaze, but the expression etched upon his face was unlike anything you had ever seen. His eyes, typically ablaze with a golden warmth, now held a chilling intensity, their once vibrant hue dimmed to a somber shade. In their depths, a glimmer of suspicion flickered, casting an ominous pall over his countenance. His stare bore into you with a laser-like focus, each line etched upon his features to show the gravity of his scrutiny. 

“No… I was with…”

Your mind stuttered once more, faltering in its attempt to grasp onto the memory of the woman you had just encountered. The image of her beautiful lavender hair and the melodic cadence of her voice began to fade, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It was as if the memories were elusive phantoms, slipping away from your grasp, leaving behind only fragments of a conversation and a sense of disorientation in their wake.

Sunday remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he observed your inner turmoil with a focused intensity. In a fleeting instant, the tension dissolved from his features, replaced by a tender expression as he lifted a hand to caress your cheek. Leaning in, he gently pressed his forehead against yours, a silent gesture of reassurance.

“Let me take care of you, Songbird.”

“Where… Where are we going?”

“Let’s forgo the Dreamscape tonight. The dinner menu in the lounge sounded particularly appetizing.”

As your mind grappled with the swirling chaos of conflicting memories, one thought remained steadfast: the yearning to return to reality and leave the Dreamscape. Yet, Sunday stood before you, extending an invitation to remain in reality with him. His gentle encouragement, coupled with the suggestion of sharing a meal together, created a tug-of-war within your soul - if he was truly suspicious, wouldn’t he want to return to the Dream?

“Something wrong, my dear?” Sunday asked, his trademark gentle smile once again gracing his features.

A pang of guilt gnawed at a corner of your mind, for you had harbored suspicions of Sunday throughout your time in the Dreamscape. Yet, here he stood, seemingly without fault, extending an open invitation to spend time with him outside the confines of the dream.

“No, let’s.. Let’s get dinner.” You spoke softly, slipping your hand into his and surprising him with your initiative, taking the lead for once.

“Of course, my love.”

You traversed the halls in silence, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts as you pondered the origins of your suspicion towards Sunday. He had been your rock, your unwavering support, proving his loyalty and love over the years of your marriage. It was probably the amnesia that made you wary, but you felt somewhat guilty that you held suspicions over the one person who may not have deserved it. 

Lost in contemplation, you scarcely noticed the world around you until you chanced upon a young boy, his striking white hair and azure garments catching your attention in the otherwise familiar surroundings.

“Welcome back to the Reverie! If you need any assistance, feel free to let me know.” He greeted you by name, making you smile at his sunny disposition. 

“Thank you, we’re headed down to the VIP lounge now for dinner.” Sunday responded, pausing to reply to the bellboy.

“I’m sorry, I had an accident and I don’t remember your name. Can you tell me yours?”

“No problem, my name is Misha.”

.

.

.

“A pleasure to meet you Misha.” You replied before waving goodbye, smiling as you went with Sunday by your side.

Perhaps you were wrong to be suspicious of Sunday. But no matter, you had an entire lifetime to make it up to your darling husband. He had been so kind to you these last few weeks, you resolved to make amends and shower your darling husband with the love and trust he deserved. Recollections of his tender gestures flooded your mind—the soft kisses, the gentle caresses—that had brought warmth and comfort to your heart over the past weeks. With a smile playing at your lips, you embraced the idea of spending a lifetime cherishing him.

You leaned up on your toes, gently kissing the side of his cheek as you walked through the halls.

Perhaps things were as they should be.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Despite what Robin claimed, Sunday loved you, truly.

Even when you threatened to leave his side for good.

When Robin returned back from her journey on death’s door, Sunday had not simply presented the idea of keeping her here on Penacony.

He enforced it.

In the tender heart of Sunday resided his beloved sister, a cherished soul intertwined with his very essence—his own lifeblood. Why, then, would he ever allow her to return to the perilous realms from whence she came? 

Society was too cold, too dangerous. 

Robin vocalized her discontent, lamenting the confines of the gilded cage that Penacony had become for her. Yet it was a cage adorned not with mere bars but with the allure of gold and the promise of boundless dreams. She could do anything, be anything. In fact, she was already a renowned celebrity who had the love of her last remaining family member. 

Why return to danger when here she prospered?

“It is still a cage.” She would counter, frustration dripping from her words.

And how much more did it break his heart when you took her side?

“Sunday, my love.” As if any endearments would affix his shattered heart. “Robin has a message that she must continue spreading. Keeping her confined here, what about the people she needs to reach?”

No.

He refused to accept their words.

Sunday’s sacrifices were grains of sand slipping through an hourglass, bearing the weight of his every aspiration, relinquished one by one until they formed a towering edifice, precarious yet resolute. At its peak stood the pinnacle of his being — his own life — offered willingly to maintain this dreamlike world even until the very last breath of eternity.

How much more was he willing to give-up?

Or rather, what was he allowed to be selfish for?

His dear sister.

And certainly, you.

As the Stellaron continued to leak Asdana’s memoria into the material world, Sunday felt his final dreams come to fruition. The Dreamscape was blending with reality, making even reality itself an illusion. 

He told himself repeatedly that this was for the good of humanity, a paradise where every individual was able to indulge in their delightful dreams and live their own personal happily ever after.

And what of yours?

Sunday granted you the freedom to roam Penacony at will, affording you the opportunity to reach for the stars even in his physical absence. But your frustration mounted, you knew he was watching from a distance anyway, a million eyes at his beck and call in this so-called Dream. You continued to voice your discontent, arguing that freedom within the confines of a cage was not truly freedom.

Why did you insist on leaving this eternal dream?

Would you leave his side and return to being an abandoned orphan, tossed aside somewhere in the old Penacony?

No, he would not allow it.

Even if he had to rewrite your memories along the way.

#sunday #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai sr #star rail #reader insert #sunday x reader #yandere #yandere sunday #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr spoilers #one shot #long fic #angst #hsr angst #dark fic #penacony #hsr robin #black swan hsr

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 | 𝘫𝘩86 ♔

➪ summary: jack's date night plans with his girl get changed when he finds out she hasn't been feeling like herself lately

➪ warnings: insecurities, body talk, being compared

➪ word count: 2.4k

➪ file type: fic

➪ sunny's notes: ahhh another favorite of mine, i legit had so much fun reading this. this was from my previous amazing beautiful teddy bear anon whom i miss very much i hope you guys enjoy this one once again! :)

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Now it wasn’t all the time that Jack got to have a night off in the middle of the season, so date nights out in New Jersey were a rare thing to come back for him and his girlfriend. In actuality, date nights like tonight were a rare occasion for the couple. Y/n wasn’t a fan of going out in public, and not in the sense that she didn’t want to be seen with Jack, because of course, she did. It is more in the sense that she didn’t want to be seen by the paparazzi, especially when she was caught off guard and didn’t have time to think about how she looked. 

It wasn’t often that she was insecure, at least this much. There were some days where it would start bad and progressively get worse throughout the day, some days where it was just bad, and other days where it was the furthest thing in her mind what she looked like (the days where she would be eating pizza with no work to do and watching Jack’s game from the comfort of her living room). 

Today had been one of the days where it got progressively worse throughout the day, which made sense because of the growing anxiety every time she looked at the time and it would be closer to when she had to start getting ready. It’s not that she wasn’t excited for date night, because she was, she was over the moon that she got to spend the night with Jack, but she just didn’t understand why they had to go out to do it.

She sat in their shared closet when she got home from work, trying to figure out what she wanted to wear. She had been through at least five different outfits, all of them now surrounding her on the ground. She finally settled on a black dress, one that she had worn plenty of times, and liked the way she looked in it every time she did. She started to pull it up and groaned when she realized she had to zip it up, not having the energy to do it at the moment. So she settled on doing the only thing she knew to do, “Jack!”

Jack came rushing into the bedroom, running down the hallway and catching himself on the door frame so he wouldn’t continue sliding, “What- what’s wrong?”

She turned around and giggled when she saw him. His shirt was unbuttoned and a little wrinkled on the inside edges, his hair a mess, and his tie the loosest it could be while still being tied, he looked like he just came from a college party. 

She shook her head and walked over to him, running a hand through his hair and kissing his cheek, “Nothing, I just need your help zipping my dress up.”

It was only then that Jack looked at her up and down, grinning when he saw what she was wearing, “I love this dress on you.”

Her cheeks lightly turned pink at his statement, walking back to the mirror to fix the dress and how it lay on her. Jack grinned even more when he noticed the color of her cheeks, “Good to know I can still make you blush this much after a year.”

He walked over to her and placed his hands on her hips, leaning his head down so his chin was resting on her shoulder. He looked at her through the mirror, watching as she fixed her necklace and earrings, fiddled with her hair so it laid just how she wanted it to and straightened her dress, and tugged at the fabric against her stomach to stop it from clinging to her skin. He didn’t think much of it initially and just moved the hair away from the left side to the right and turned to kiss her lightly on the neck. The action caused her to shiver a little but ultimately left her with a smile.

Jack stood up and hit her butt, “Jack!” He ignored her and zipped up her dress. When he finished he went to hit her butt once more but furrowed his brows in confusion when he didn’t hear the usual scold that followed it. 

He looked back up in the mirror to find her with a frown on her face and her hands fiddling with the edges of her dress. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he quietly asked, “What is it?”

She shook her head, not wanting to draw attention to it that much, “Nothing Jacky, I think I’m just gonna put on some tights underneath it and maybe some shorts.”

Normally, he would’ve let this slide. It was the middle of January and it was cold out, he knew she would be cold the moment they stepped outside if she left her legs bare. But, with the look on her face now and the pile of clothes sitting in their closet that he noticed when he walked in, told him all the different. His grip tightened on her waist once he felt her trying to get out of it to head to do what she told him, “Stop.”

“Jacky, we’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t do this- don’t do this to yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

She shied away from the mirror, trying to at least turn around to face him instead of continuing to look at herself. He huffed at her words and tightened his hold once more, “C’mon, baby. Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell, let's just go before they decide they don’t want to serve us.”

“We are not leaving this apartment, this room until you tell me what’s going on even though you know I know what you’re pretty little head is thinking about right now.”

She stopped fighting and looked down, causing Jack to spin her around and lift her chin so her eyes were looking directly into his, “Talk to me.”

“It’s just one of those days, I guess.”

He knew there was more, he always knew. Jack knew about how she didn’t like going out for date nights because she didn’t want to have any unexpected pictures taken of her, how she hated posting on Instagram because she’s always scared that the only comments she’ll get are one’s commenting about how ‘ugly’ she looked, that she hated summer because she could never wear what all the others girls were wearing and feel good about it, and that she hated going to his games wearing his jersey because girls always made comments about him never wanting to be with her. So yes, he knew she was lying when she said that. 

“I know that’s not all that’s bothering you, sweetheart. And you know that too,”

He backed up to sit on the chest that was sitting in front of their bed. She knew and hated when he did that because the next thing he did was pat his left thigh so she would come and sit there. She hated that she knew that she would do it anyway because Jack would sit and pout if she didn’t. And most of all, she hated those puppy dog eyes of him. 

This time, however, she was determined to stand her ground, “No. I’m putting tights and shorts on and then we’re leaving.”

Jack rolled his eyes but kept sitting. She stared at him and he had no problem with staring right back, one of their daily staring contests that happened. When Jack broke eye contact, she cheered a little before heading into the closet to do what she said she was going to. Rules were rules, when someone won the staring contest they won the argument, within reason of course.

He sat patiently on the trunk as he watched her close the door of the closet. He knew this was not only one of those days, but one of the worst days she had. He knocked on the door and halted her actions, “But your sweats on.”

“What?”

“I said put your sweats on, my hoodie, and get your pretty ass out to the living room in five minutes. Take your makeup off too and put your hair up.”

She was confused but ultimately was fine with his words. Wearing sweats definitely beats having to wear tights and shorts and a dress. And wearing his hoodie? That beat everything. Jack sat in the living room calling the restaurant to cancel the reservation, ordering her favorite food, and putting on her favorite movie. 

She came out five minutes later and sat on the couch, crossing her legs. Jack wrapped one of his arms around her waist and pulled her into his side as close as he could without her being on top of him, not that he would have minded her there in the slightest, “Talk to me, please.”

His voice sounded like he was pleading, and he was. He wanted to make all of her insecurities go away, shower her with love, and make her feel loved. And if he accomplished that and was able to cuddle her, he would be more than okay to do this every day instead of going out. 

She sighed and Jack gave her his hand so she could fiddle with her fingers, something she always did when she got anxious, “I wasn’t lying when I said it was one of those days.”

She took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s just- that dress was the dress I could always count on myself knowing I would look good in. I don’t usually have to think about it too hard, I could just put it on and go. When you zipped it up, I could tell it fit a little tighter than it usually did and it just felt…” She couldn’t exactly describe what she felt, how she felt. If you knew the feeling, you knew the feeling.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she gripped his hand tighter, “I just want to feel pretty Jack.”

That absolutely, utterly, broke, no shattered, his heart. He hated that his girl had to feel like this, hated that society had made it so not only her but every girl that didn’t look like the stereotypical one had to feel like they weren’t beautiful. At that moment, caring about whether or not she would think she was crushing him flew out of his mind and he pulled her into his lap. She didn’t even have the energy to protest and dug her head into his shoulder.

His own tears welled up in his eyes as he listened to her cry, it was one of his least favorite sounds in the whole world, maybe the worst sound he’s ever heard. He let her cry for a few minutes before pulling her head away and cupping her face with both of his hands. She sniffled, reaching her hand up to wipe her nose and Jack wiped the tears for her. She was glad that she had decided to take her makeup off after contemplating it for a few minutes. 

“I want you to listen to me, y/n. And please, actually listen to me.”

She nodded, still trying to rid of the remnants of her crying off of her face, “You are beautiful, no matter who tells you differently. I will always think you’re beautiful. I know that self-love is the most important kind of love there is and it breaks my heart every time I see you look at yourself a little longer in the mirror in the mornings or when you pull at the fabric of your shirt while you’re working at the kitchen table. And I am more than willing to help you feel beautiful all day every day.

“I know that you’re not going to feel pretty all of the time, everyone has those days. Even me, pretty boy Hughes.”

His comment made her laugh a little and he smiled when he heard it, that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. He smiled a little more when he felt her hand run through his hair, “There’s my girl.”

This comment makes her blush instead and that causes him to smile even more, “And there is the blush that I still cannot believe I make you do. Somehow you just got ten times more gorgeous.”

Her cheeks reddened even more and he chuckled a little at it this time. He moved his hands from her head to her hips, his thumbs resting under his sweatshirt and rubbing soft circles into her skin, “There will always be someone to say something, trust me and I wish I could take it all away so it wouldn’t hurt you. But, I want you to know that I love you for you and I could never imagine myself loving anyone else. 

“Anyone could have a model as their girlfriend or their wife, but only I can have you. And that’s what makes me love you, y/n. Not the way you look, though I adore how you look, but instead the way you smile when you see me every time, the way you always cuddle me after a rough game, the way you know when something is wrong, the way you treat everyone like they hung the stars, and the way you moan-”

“Jack!”

He laughed, throwing his head back in the process, his hands subtly tightening on her hips, “My point is, before you so rudely interrupted me listing the things I love about you.” She slapped his arm before smiling at him, “You don’t need to live up to anyone else’s expectations of beautiful when you think you are. As long as you think you’re beautiful that’s all that matters, as long as you do it for you and not for anyone else.”

Tears pricked at her eyes once more, this time out of love and happiness, “I love you so so much, Jacky.”

He kissed her cheek and then kissed her, making her jump in shock a little before melting into the kiss. His hands moved further up underneath her sweatshirt and he moved to kiss her neck, causing her to let out a soft moan when he hit her sensitive spot right on the dot. That made him grin as he pulled away. That was his favorite sound in the world.

⬂ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

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