#i really want to know....please can i move next month....please....

[lailalalesisblog]

Confessions? Concussions

Clark kent x reader

In which your boyfriend thinks he's Superman after you give him a concussion

You had a feeling before you even opened the door.

A little spark in your chest—your powers always flared when something was off. Not panic, exactly. Just tension. Enough to make you grip your keys tighter as you turned them in the lock.

The door creaked open.

Dark. Still.

Too still.

Then movement.

No time to think.

Your hands lit up with a pulse of golden light, bright and burning. You didn’t even aim. Just reacted. A flick of your wrist, and the glow shot forward like a flare.

A crash. A yelp. Something soft—cake?hit the floor with a splat. You whipped on the lights, heart hammering.

Oh it's just Clark.

"Clark?!" You screamed whispering for some reason.

He was half-crumpled against the wall, dazed, blinking through the wreckage of what had once been a very small cake. There was a candle. Bent. Still smoking.

“Happy... s-six months?” he managed, voice thin.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, finally managing to move and dropping to your knees beside him. “Clark?! Are you okay?”

You grabbed his face, checking his pupils, your fingers still pulsing with leftover light. “I didn’t know it was you! You weren’t supposed to be here yet! Why didn’t you text?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he wheezed. “Didn’t expect a sun grenade to the chest, though. Is... is that normal for you?”

You hesitated.

“No,” you muttered. “Not really.”

Clark groaned as you helped him sit up. “Okay, because I thought your place just had weird insulation. But no. Turns out you’re the human furnace.”

You winced. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, squinting. “You have powers?”

You froze. “…Yes.”

He blinked. “Like, actual powers? As in... superpowers?”

You nodded slowly.

Clark looked at you like you’d just told him you were a time traveler. “Since when?!”

“Some time, since the accidents at wayne labs,” you said quietly. “But I don’t usually... show it. People freak out.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “Well, yeah. I mean—I’m not freaked out. Surprised for sure. Kind of crispy. But not freaked out.”

You breathed out a shaky laugh. “You’re taking this... alarmingly well.”

“I mean, it’s a lot to process,” he admitted. “But I’ve always known you were kind of luminous.”

“Not the time for puns, Kent.”

“I’m concussed,” he said, grinning faintly. “I’m allowed bad jokes.”

You shook your head, looking down at the obliterated cake. “This was really sweet, though. I ruined it.”

“Technically, you vaporized it. And possibly my spleen.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

He smiled. “Honestly? This is still in my top five most romantic disasters.”

He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“Next time,” you whispered, “please text.”

“Next time,” he echoed.

And then you kissed soft and hesitant. The candle flickered behind you. The cake was still on the floor.

After you helped him up, he was camped out on your couch, blinking slowly as you pressed an ice pack to the side of his head despite him insisting didn't need one. His glasses were crooked. His hair looked like he’d fought a wind tunnel and lost.

You hovered nearby, chewing your bottom lip. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that, but you're acting weird.”

Clark sat up straighter, rubbing his hands together like he was psyching himself up. “Okay. So. Since we’re... sharing things.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Clark?”

He met your gaze.

“I think I should tell you something.”

“Sure” you said slowly slightly confused. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I’m Superman.”

Silence. You stared at him.

Then blinked.

Then said, gently, “Clark.”

“I’m serious.”

“Oh no,” you whispered. “You are concussed.”

“What? No—I’m serious!”

You touched his forehead. “Can you count backwards from ten? Do you smell toast? What year is it?”

“I am Superman!”

You frowned. “You just got knocked into a wall by a mini solar flare and your first instinct is to pretend you’re a flying alien?”

“I am a flying alien! That wasn’t even the worst hit I’ve taken this week!”

“Oh my god,” you muttered. “This is worse than I thought.”

Clark threw his hands in the air. “What do you want? Proof?!”

“Yes!”

“I flew here.”

“Convenient.”

“I don’t need these.” He yanked off his bent glasses.

“You also told me you didn’t need GPS and we ended up at a funeral instead of a sushi place.”

He groaned. “I should’ve just flown in and taken the blast like a normal person.”

You looked at him with an expression that only said 'i hit my boyfriend with a solar flare and he went looney'

Clark crossed his arms. “You think I’m making this up?”

“I think you might have a head injury. And possibly mild delirium.” You said trying to be sweet, your hand on his cheek.

“I’m not delirious. I’m Superman.”

You stared at him. Trying not to burst out laughing, it was your fault he hit his head and now thinks he is Superman.

“Clark,” you said, “I love you, but this is just a reaction to a light-based trauma.”

“I knew this would happen,” he grumbled. “This is why I don’t tell people."

You both stood there.

You stepped closer, resting a hand on his chest. “I'm going to make you tea. And maybe a doctor’s appointment. And maybe you don’t try to top my superpower confession with delusions of grandeur.”

Clark smiled, fingers brushing yours. “You really don’t believe me?”

“Not even a little.”

“One day you will.”

“Sure. The day you fly me to Paris in five minutes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Deal.”

(Spoiler: you would find out he was in fact superman, But for now? You just thought your very sweet, very hot boyfriend had a head injury and a wildly vivid imagination.)

♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°

You had barely slept.

Not because you weren’t tired—God, you were exhausted—but because every time you closed your eyes, you saw Clark’s face saying, “I’m Superman,” like it was a completely normal sentence.

You even Googled “mild brain injury symptoms” in bed while he snored softly next to you.

Now it was morning.

Clark was in your kitchen flipping pancakes like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t casually declared himself a Kryptonian space alien twelve hours ago while blinking through temporary blindness.

You stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Morning, sunshine.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you remember what you said last night?”

He flipped a pancake with one hand. “Yup.”

“And you’re still sticking to that story?”

“Yup.”

You walked over slowly and poked him in the chest. “You’re telling me—with a straight face—that you’re Superman.”

Clark poked your forehead right back. “Yes.”

“And you never mentioned this before because…?”

“I wanted to keep you safe and i thought you’d panic.”

“I did panic! Because you had a concussion and were hallucinating an alien backstory!”

He sighed and turned off the stove. “Okay. You want proof?”

“Yes. Preferably something that doesn’t involve drugs.”

Without another word, he turned around, looked you dead in the eye—and lifted your fridge.

With one hand.

You froze.

He just stood there, fridge humming softly, magnets jingling from the slight sway.

“…Okay,” you said slowly.

“I’m Superman,” he repeated, calm as ever.

You stared. “That could be adrenaline.”

He blinked. “You think I have fridge-lifting adrenaline?”

“You’ve never had your cinnamon pancakes,” you muttered.

Clark gently lowered the fridge back into place with a sigh. Then, with quiet drama, he pulled off his glasses.

You flinched. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you the official look.” His voice dropped half an octave, which was incredibly hot, you wanted to climb him like a tree but the situation did not permit it, at least for now. “This is my Superman face.”

“…You look exactly the same.”

“I—what?!” He groaned and walked toward the window. “Fine. One more thing.”

Thennhe floated.

His feet lifted off the floor. Just like that. Effortless.

Your eyes widened. “You’re floating.”

“Yes.”

“You’re floating.”

“I am.”

“…Are you using wires?”

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

As if to prove a point, he flew straight up—right through your skylight. The force knocked your spice rack sideways and sent a puff of air through the apartment.

You stood there, stunned.

Five seconds later, he floated gently back down through the skylight like it was just another Tuesday.

Clark landed with a soft thud and smiled.

“…Okay,” you breathed. “I believe you.”

He grinned. “Took you long enough.”

You smacked his chest. “You told me after I blasted you into a wall! You’re lucky I didn’t call a neurologist.”

Clark leaned in, kissed you softly.

You stared at him for a long second, he was the same man who once tripped over a recycling bin and launched a venti caramel macchiato into your chest. The same man who tried to fix it by buying you another and spilled that one too. The same man who fell off an office chair, broke his glasses, and pretended he was 'checking for a loose screw.'

And now he was telling you he could fly through the stratosphere.

You pointed at him. “You can’t be Superman.”

Clark tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because you’re the clumsiest person I know! You walk into glass doors! You say things like, ‘oopsie daisy!’ and 'What the hay!'”

“I do not say ‘oopsie daisy.’”

“You absolutely do.”

Clark smiled and reached for your hand again. “It’s true,” he said softly. “I’ve always had powers. But I wanted to be... normal. With you.”

You blinked.

“…Normal? On our first date you got your shoelace stuck in an escalator and screamed like a Disney princess because you thought it was the creepy girl from the horror movie we watched.”

“And yet,” he said, entirely unbothered, “you still kissed me goodnight.”

You threw your hands up and collapsed onto the couch. “Oh my god. I’m dating Superman. I’ve seen you in princess tiana pajamas. I don’t know whether to cry or ask for an autograph.”

He leaned in. “Or… I could bring you ice cream, and we could unpack this with snacks?”

“…I hate how much I love you"

----

@animegamerfox

[sodapopkiss6]

Vampire sylus who can't come into your house until you invite him in so every night he tries to convince you to open the door. He could easily wait to strike while you're outside, but that's no fun. He'd rather you give in, that you make the choice to allow him to consume your blood. Without fail every night you hear his voice on the other side of your door, you start to look forward to these small moments with him.

As time goes on the two of you get to know each other better. He doesn't understand why, why he has this obsession towards you, he never feels this way with any of his other prey. It drags on for months. At some point he stops asking you to open the door.

Suddenly though he disappears, it's strange not having him around, at first you don't think much of it thinking he is busy with his 'business'. A week goes by and still no sign of him, you grow worried. One night you decide to go look for him, all ready to hunt him down but as you begin to open the door as a familiar voice calls out.

"Sweetie?"

You freeze, the door only slightly open but enough for your eyes to meet. You have enough time to close the door, to lock it, to yell at him, to walk away. But instead you swing the door open and run into his arms.

With a pained grunt he chuckles "missed me?"

"Shut up" you hide your face in his chest "stupid vampire"

"How mean, we haven't seen each other in days and this is how you greet me? what a cruel kitten" he says as one of his hands go up to caress your head.

"Hmph" you relax into his touch, even though it is the first time, it feels familiar.

However you don't miss the subtle shakes of his body, ragged breaths, how every so often his grip tightens.

"Sy, are you hurt?"

"Me?" he chuckles "I won't die so easily don't worry"

"That doesn't mean you don't feel pain" you roll your eyes "vampires really are stupid"

"Yes yes, vampires are the worst aren't they?" he teases.

You gently push him away to inspect him "where is it?"

"Where is what?" he smirks.

Sighing you decide to see for yourself, hands rubbing and pressing until you hear him inhale sharply.

"Hm I wonder what this is?" feeling a little mean you press again making him grunt.

"Sweetie-"

"Admit it, say that it hurts and you want my help"

His eyebrows furrow confused at first but then laughs, "Alright"

"The pain is unbearable, I feel as if I'm on the verge of death, won't you please help me oh benevolent and gracious kitten?" he says dramatically.

You cross your arms as if thinking about it.

"Well since I am kind, I guess I could let you in, just this once"

You lie, a key to your house waiting for him next to yours.

For the first time he walks into your home, your most vulnerable place. He shouldn't be there yet he belongs there. You quickly guide him to the bathroom, pulling out your first aid kit while he removes his shirt.

It's silent, you tending to his wound and him staring at you. He waits until your done to guide your face close to his. He wants to speak up, but all of the words he want's to say tangle up in his throat. He can only stare at you, your wide eyes, cheeks that are beginning to paint pink, your soft lips that are slightly parted as if unable to speak as well. The two of you stay like that, unsure of what the next step is.

It certainly doesn't help that you smell so sweet, warm blood that makes his mouth water, teeth aching for a taste. While he tries to fight off those thoughts however you lean in closer, eyes flickering to his.

"Is this okay?" you whisper.

He blinks once before his hands eagerly move to hold you closer "yes, I want you-all of you"

His lips crash into yours, he really does try to hold back his hunger, but when you begin to push him back into the wall, biting and roughly kissing him he feels his restraint snap. All the repressed emotions, all the longing, of the two of you releasing into the kiss.

When the two of you part for air you can sense the shift, the more feral look in his eyes, his fangs more noticeable. You know he'll try to leave so before he does you press up against him while you pull down the collar of your shirt to expose more of your skin.

His reaction is instant, low snarls escaping him as he leans down to kiss your skin, tongue poking out to brush against it. You know he's still holding back so you give him one last push.

"Go ahead, I know you want to taste me"

His grip on you tightens and his mouth looks for your sweetest spot, where he can smell and feel your blood pumping as if enticing him on purpose.

When he finally bites down you gasp, hands tangling into his hair. He sucks and licks, mouth hungrily taking your blood, he can feel himself grow addicted to it.

Growing accustomed to the feeling you gently pat his head murmuring praises.

"Thats it, good boy, you've been wanting this for so long huh? poor thing"

His whimper is muffled by your skin, he knows he should stop but you taste so good he can't help but desperately keep drinking your words only further encouraging him.

It's only until you begin to feel light headed that you push him away, smirking when you see his dazed face. Eyes half lided and lips red from your blood, you can see he wants more but obediently stays put. He didn't know that blood could make him feel this way, usually he'll drink until he feels his strength come back and move on, but there's something about you that makes him burn. A strong desire burning within him.

He takes deep breaths to calm himself, it's his first time in your home and he won't take advantage of your trust in him. He can behave, only take what you offer.

"Feeling better?"

He laughs breathlessly while nodding "Yes much better, thank you" he looks down to where his wound was "you healed me"

"My blood healed you"

"No" he reaches for your hand "you did" you can feel his warm breath hitting the back of your hand.

"And since you saved me that means I owe you something"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to" he presses small kisses on your hand "you can ask for anything"

"Anything?"

He nods.

You pause to think, there a lot of things you can ask for but the one thing you truly want-

"I want you to stay here with me, nights and mornings, I...I want to build a life with you"

It's silent after that, you resist the urge to look away, gaze firm on his face. You see how his eyebrows furrow, contemplating.

"Are you sure? life with me won't be easy, I have my needs, my business. It isn't safe"

"As if I can't take care of myself" You roll your eyes "I'm strong and so are you, together we're unstoppable"

He laughs, attempting to hide his smile, he was hoping that'd be your answer.

"You're right"

"Always am" you smile proudly.

His smile matches yours as he presses another kiss to your hand.

"Well then, I'm yours sweetie, till death do us part"

You shake your head,

"No, you are mine and I am yours-"

your hands cup his cheeks.

"-until we decide to part"

You see a glimpse of his smile widening before leaning in to kiss him once again.

Vampire Sylus hmmmmmm

Tags:

@caterpillar-in-disguise

[lunatf-ao3]

JUST LOVE² ❣︎

[TFP] Dark!Optimus Prime/Human!Reader

[⚠︎]: toxic dynamics, controlling behavior, possessiveness, overprotection, manipulation

...

-

---

Touching your skirt, Optimus scrutinized your outfit with discontent, the same discontent he had every morning. "I do not like it."

"...It's my uniform, you know that. I can't work without it."

"Hmm."

"Optimus... calm down, it's just a skirt and an apron." You repeat, as you have done too many days this month, trying to appease his discontent. You can't let him forbid you from going to work; you've already been too close to complete captivity.

You probably already are.

His digits tightened, threatening to tear the fabric. "It's too tight, too short."

"Don't start again."

"Ah?"

You immediately regret your words.

"No, I... I'm sorry, I meant you didn't have to worry so much about me, Optimus." You take his servo, rubbing it nervously against your cheek. "I promise to cover myself more, look at the ground, not talk to anyone if that makes you feel better."

That seemed to appease him.

"I don't need attention from anyone else, Optimus, you're all I want."

"Hmm... Oh, my little one, you do not know how much I had prefer you at home, away from all the stares." He sighed. "But if you assure me so sweetly that you will take care of yourself, I will trust you."

Liar. You think, but instead you give him a smile, receiving the sweet kiss he leaned down to give you.

His servos run possessively over your body, feeling your buttocks through the long-sleeved shirt you're wearing, like a collector with his most prized piece.

His kiss strayed, moving down to your neck, where he made sure to leave his mark. You don't complain, simply leaning on his shoulder. "And could you give me my phone? Please, I don't want to be cut off from you in case something happens."

"...Okay. I will pick you up when you get out today," he announced, right after stopping. Bumblebee or Arcee usually did that when he was on missions, and you liked it better that way because you could take an extra ride with their help.

"Understood."

"All right, little one."

Leaving the room, the base is almost empty. Ratchet is focused on his work, and Bulkhead doesn't dare look at you.

When Optimus transforms, you quietly get into the passenger seat. The doors lock, and as he drives out of the base, his holoform materializes in the seat next to you.

He doesn't leave you alone, not in any way possible. He needs the whole town to know that you're with someone, that you're with him. And since he can't show himself in his normal form, he'll do it in another way.

-

It's 8:30 p.m. when you leave work. It's uncomfortably cold outside, but Optimus is already parked there, waiting for you since who knows when.

You take one step and someone calls your name.

You turn around to find one of your coworkers, the new one you talked to yesterday.

Optimus probably investigated him, because how could he leave you out there without knowing what kind of people are around you?

He was young, just starting his first job. He had the energy of a recent graduate, friendly, clumsy, and flirtatious.

"Hey, you forgot your phone." With a bright smile, he offers you the small device. You glance sideways at the parked truck.

"Thanks." You take it, immediately putting it in your bag, ready to leave.

"No problem." He put a hand on your shoulder, patting you friendly. "Did you see that truck over there? I wonder whose it is, it's been parked there for an hour."

You cough, trying to distance yourself a little. "It's my partner's. He came to pick me up."

"Your partner?" He seems disappointed, but immediately cheers up. "Well, it's a really cool truck! Your partner is very lucky, and I'm not just talking about the truck." He winks at you, walking away. "See you tomorrow!"

And he leaves before you can even think of responding.

Your hands are shaking.

The night is quieter than when you left.

Your boots echo with every step to the passenger door, which opens a second later.

The driver's seat is empty, and Optimus slowly starts the engine.

"..."

"Optimus-"

"Does he always say goodbye like that to you?"

"N-No, of course not." You stammer. "It's the first time, it took me by surprise. Besides, he's new, we've only been living together for two days. I guess he's just trying to make friends, he's new and fool, I... I won't talk to him anymore."

Optimus speeds up, staying silent for a second. "I do not want him to touch you again."

"Understood." You murmur, playing with your fingers.

The seatbelt tightens against your body. "I love you, little one."

"I love you too, Optimus."

PREVIOUS

[gayandbasic]

You’re ace!! I am also on the ace spectrum!! Please only write this if you want to but I’d love to see a bob x ace! Reader 🥺 where they’re obviously in love and basically act like a couple but they’re just wusses and haven’t confessed or anything but the reader is hurting because they think that bob and her could never work because they’re ace and they’re not into sex and it’s complicated and they’ve never shared this with him, though he knows the reader hasn’t really had any relationships. And I lovvve angst!! But then fluff don’t rip my throat out pls

Aaaah! This is so good I’m actually obsessed with Bob x ace!reader because you just know he would be the best. It’s always so refreshing to see a fellow ace that loves love. Thank you so so much for requesting this. I had such a cathartic experience writing it. I may have even cried a little haha. I hope I captured that longing and angst and that it’s what you were looking for!!

🖤🩶🤍

Bob Reynolds x Ace!reader || WC: 3K

~ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ~

It’s a complicated feeling.

Love.

That feeling that builds in your chest every time you look at the person who holds your heart. Like the world slows just a bit when your shoulders brush or you catch a smile on their face.

There are different kinds of love.

The warm and gentle, familial kind that offers safety and comfort.

The playful and loyal kind you feel for a friendship spanning years.

The protective, unspoken kind—the kind where, if that person were to disappear, your whole world would go dark.

The white-hot, burning kind that leaves you breathless and wanting. Passion and lust for each other, all hands and gasping breaths.

It’s those last two that have you up at night lately.

It’s been months since you moved into the Tower with the rest of the team. Your days have been spent training and going to debriefs, sure—but they’ve also been filled with gentle, comforting moments. That kind of peace you only feel when you’ve found a place to call home. And you know a large part of that feeling is because of one person who lives here with you.

Bob.

Sweet, playful, timid Bob.

You hadn’t expected to bond with him so quickly, to feel at ease just because he’s next to you.

The quiet mornings spent drinking coffee while the two of you watch the sunrise in comfortable silence—that’s the only way you can start your day now.

You’ve built a routine around being near him.

You’re not sure when it started. You just found yourself standing closer, brushing hands, smiling at his words. When he wasn’t there, your mood would sink—as if he held the key to your happiness.

Days spent going on grocery runs together, planning meals, then cooking for the rest of the team. Wandering bookstores or visiting cafés when the Tower felt too suffocating.

You can’t think of a day spent without him nearby.

And it’s confusing.

You’ve never really thought about the concept of romantic love. Never felt the need to explore the idea of sharing your life with someone. Never felt that hot, burning passion that leaves people tearing off clothes, hands grasping, breaths hot and staggered.

The thought of your sweaty body pressed flush to another while you lose yourself in the act of pleasing—it almost makes you uncomfortable. The need to have sex to prove love has always been one of the main reasons you never bothered with relationships.

Frankly, the idea of sex made you nauseous. Too many fluids and sensations. That kind of closeness always seemed invasive—panting and flushed against someone else.

You always thought you couldn’t have that kind of love without that desire, and you were resigned to the fact that you would be alone forever.

You didn’t mind. Not at first.

But now you lie awake, turning over the feelings you have for Bob. They’re confusing. And they hurt.

You’re scared to admit that the feeling clawing its way out of your chest is more than friendship.

It’s that suffocating need to be near him. The constant thoughts about him.

You’re in love with him.

But where does that leave you? Even if he felt the same, you can’t offer him everything a loving relationship is supposed to have. You can’t give him that primal, passionate part that people need.

So you tuck that feeling away. Lock it up.

And give up on the idea that he could ever love you just as you are.

~

You don’t mean to avoid him. Not really.

But you’ve pulled away.

Just a little.

Not enough for anyone else to notice—Bob still sits beside you on the couch during movie nights, still finds you in the kitchen for breakfast, still asks if you want to help him pick out new houseplants for the common room.

But the touches you once leaned into—shoulders brushing, knees knocking—now feel like dangerous territory. So you flinch, just barely. You duck your head, offer him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You don’t mean to. You hate it.

But it’s easier than the alternative: blurting out I’m in love with you but I can’t give you what you deserve.

Because what if he says he loves you too?

And what if he means it in the way the world defines love? What if he wants that burning, breathless thing—bodies tangled, skin on skin, need carved into the space between your ribs? You want closeness, yes. You want intimacy. But not that kind. Not the kind that makes your stomach twist with discomfort and dread. Not the kind that’s expected, inevitable, normal.

And Bob—he deserves normal for once in his damn life. Doesn’t he?

You curl tighter into yourself as the thought sinks in. It’s not fair. He’s the one who made you feel like home. He’s the one who made you laugh until you cried, who took your hand during a panic attack and held it like it was the most natural thing in the world. He’s the one who never pushed, never prodded, just… showed up. Again and again. Just Bob.

God, you love him.

But you’ve read enough books and watched enough movies to know how these stories go. You know how they end. And people like you—people who don’t want that, who feel love in other ways—don’t usually get a happy ending.

So instead, you sit across from him at the Tower kitchen table, chewing the inside of your cheek while he talks softly about new chili recipes. You try to pretend your chest doesn’t ache every time he looks at you with those soft, golden-brown eyes.

And then he stops mid-sentence. Tilts his head.

“You okay?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

His gaze lingers. Gentle, but searching. “You’ve been… different lately.”

You force a shrug. “Just tired.”

He’s quiet for a moment too long, eyes searching your face like he’s trying to piece together something that doesn’t make sense. And then—softly, like it aches to say it—he speaks.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head, quick and instinctual. “No. No, Bob. It’s not—”

“Because if I said something, or crossed a line, or—God, I don’t know. I just… I miss you.” His voice cracks, and suddenly the words start to tumble out faster, less controlled. “I’ve been trying not to make it weird, but I feel it, okay? You’ve been pulling away and I didn’t know if it was me or if you were just… done. With whatever this is.”

You swallow hard.

“I thought maybe it was my fault. That I made you uncomfortable. And if I did—if I screwed this up—then I’m so sorry. I’ll stop. I’ll back off. I’ll get over it.”

Your breath catches. “Get over what?”

Bob laughs, helpless and a little self-deprecating. “The stupid crush I’ve been nursing since the day you moved in.”

Your heart breaks.

He keeps going, like he’s bracing for the end. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but it’s driving me crazy not knowing what I did wrong. So if it’s that—if you found out how I felt and it made you want to run—then I get it. I’ll deal with it. I’ll—”

“No.” The word rips out of you, louder than intended. You force yourself to breathe. “No, Bob. That’s not it.”

His brow creases. “Then what is it?”

You’re trembling, fingers twisting the hem of your sleeve like it might keep you from unraveling completely.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you whisper. “That’s the worst part. You did everything right. You’re… you’re sweet. And safe. And so good to me, and I’m in love with you, and it hurts like hell because—”

You stop, biting your lip, throat burning.

“Because what?” he asks, softer now.

You look away. You can’t bear to see his face when you say it.

“Because I can’t give you everything people want in a relationship. I can’t offer you that kind of closeness—that kind. I’ve never wanted it. I don’t want it. Not with anyone.”

You force yourself to meet his eyes. “I’m ace. Asexual. I don’t want sex. And I know that’s something most people need, and I’ve made peace with that. But I never expected to fall in love, and now that I have, it just… it feels cruel. To want you and know I can’t give you everything you deserve.”

You expect silence. Or pity. Or a soft, understanding smile that means goodbye.

But all Bob does is stare at you—open, stunned, and soft in the way only he can be. He takes a breath, eyes wide.

And then, barely above a whisper:

“…That’s what you’ve been afraid of?”

His voice is so quiet, so stunned, you can’t tell if it’s disbelief or confusion or something worse. You can’t read his face. He’s just… staring at you.

And that’s somehow worse than anger. Worse than rejection.

You feel yourself shrinking inward, shame curling tight around your ribs like a vice. You knew this was coming—you knew—and still the ache of it cleaves right through you.

You force a shaky breath, eyes fixed on your hands so you don’t have to see him walk away.

“I get it if you need time. Or if this changes things. I just—” You break off. Swallow hard. “I just needed you to know why I pulled away. It wasn’t because I didn’t feel something. I did. I do.”

Still, he doesn’t speak.

You finally look up.

He hasn’t moved.

His mouth is parted slightly, like he wants to say something but the words got caught somewhere in his chest. His brow is furrowed, his hands gripping the edge of the table like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, throat tight. “I should’ve never let it get this far. I should’ve known better.”

He blinks at that, something flickering behind his eyes, but it’s gone too fast to name.

And then you add, voice barely audible, “It would’ve been easier if I didn’t love you.”

His shoulders jerk like he’s been struck. But still, he says nothing.

So you do what you always do when it hurts too much to stay: you stand.

Slowly. Carefully. Like moving too fast might break whatever this is beyond repair.

“I should go.”

You’re halfway to the door before he finally speaks.

“Wait.”

It’s just one word, and it hits you square in the spine.

You stop. But you don’t turn around. Can’t.

Another beat of silence. Then:

“You love me.”

It’s not a question. Just… wonder. Disbelief. Maybe a little broken, like the words don’t feel real in his mouth.

You nod, even though he can’t see it. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“You thought I’d leave. Because you’re ace.”

Your voice is barely there. “Not leave. Just… not want this.”

“Why wouldn’t I want this?” The question bursts out of him, raw and cracking with emotion. “You think I only want you if I can sleep with you?”

You flinch at the edge in his voice, even though it’s not anger. It’s something sharper. Something hurt.

“No, I just—” Your breath catches. “I’ve seen what people expect. What they need. And I’m not that. I’m not—enough.”

Now you turn, because you have to. Because the silence behind you is suddenly too loud.

He’s standing now too. Still gripping the table like he’s afraid of what’ll come out if he lets go.

His eyes are glassy. And when he speaks again, his voice cracks.

“You’ve always been enough.”

The room feels like it’s holding its breath.

“I didn’t say anything because I thought you didn’t feel the same,” he says, voice trembling. “But I was happy just being near you. Being yours in whatever way you’d let me. I didn’t need anything else.”

You stare at him, heart in your throat.

And you’re crying too now. You can feel it—hot and silent and unstoppable, tears sliding down your cheeks before you can even think to stop them.

“A messy pair, it looks like,” you sniffle, voice thick with emotion. You drag your sleeve across your face and look up at him, really look—searching his expression for any sign that this isn’t real. That maybe he’s just being kind. That he’s going to realize later this isn’t enough.

But all you find is that same gentle care. That familiar worry for your well-being. That quiet, unmistakable want—not the kind that burns, but the kind that stays. The kind that holds.

You take a step toward him. Then another. And another, until your arms are wrapped around his middle and his are circling your shoulders like he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold tight enough, you’ll vanish.

He presses his cheek to your hair, exhaling like he’s finally breathing again.

“This… this is okay?” you whisper into the space between you. Your voice trembles. “You still want this?”

You feel him nod first. Then his hand finds the back of your head, fingers weaving gently into your hair as he murmurs against your temple, soft and steady:

“It’s more than okay. I want everything you have to offer. Just you. As you are.”

You close your eyes. Let yourself feel the warmth of his body against yours. The safety in his arms. The steadiness in his voice.

But you need to check, “I’ve never been in an actual normal relationship. I don’t know how to make it right..” voice small.

“I don’t want some perfect idea of a relationship—I want you. However you come. However you love.” His hand rubbing slow grounding circles on your back as he speaks.

“If something’s ever too much, or if something doesn’t feel right,” he continues, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, “you tell me. We work through it. Together.”

Your chest tightens, not from fear this time, but from relief so full it almost hurts. You nod, lips trembling.

“I want to be close,” you whisper. “I just… I need it to be slow. And on my terms. I don’t always have the words right away, but I’ll try.”

“I never fell for you because of what you could give me. I fell because you’re you.” He looks down at you making sure you see how sincere he is.

“If I get to spend my life just loving you the way you want to be loved… that’s the best future I could ask for.” Bob says quietly.

You lean your forehead against his, both of you damp-cheeked and quiet, sharing breath.

Then he smiles—crooked and warm, with just a hint of nervous laughter. “This is probably the worst time to say it, but… do you still want to help me repot the monstera?”

You let out a watery laugh, and something in your chest finally, finally unclenches.

“Only if you don’t drop the soil all over the carpet this time.”

“No promises.”

And just like that, the world starts to stitch itself back together—slowly, gently, one soft moment at a time.

~

You always thought love had to look a certain way.

Lust. Fireworks. Desire burning under skin, mouths pressed together in desperate need. That was what everyone seemed to chase. That was what people wrote poems about, what characters clung to in the stories you never saw yourself in.

And for a long time, you thought that meant love wasn’t for you. That you were a puzzle piece no one would ever quite fit with. That maybe what you had to give just wasn’t enough.

But then came Bob. With his awkward smiles and oversized hoodies and gentle eyes that held galaxies of patience. With his hands that never reached until you offered. With the kind of love that didn’t ask you to change or contort or become anything other than what you are.

It’s different. What the two of you have.

But not lacking.

Not half of something.

Not less.

It’s quiet hands brushing in the hallway. Shared meals and bad jokes and early mornings where you say everything without a single word. It’s building trust one heartbeat at a time. It’s safety. And laughter. And presence.

And it’s love. True, real, full-bodied love.

Not in spite of your boundaries, but because of them. Because you were brave enough to speak, and he was kind enough to listen. Because you laid yourself bare and he stayed.

Because you chose each other, knowing exactly what you were choosing.

This is your kind of love. Powerful not because it shouts the loudest, but because it never asks you to shrink.

And as he reaches for your hand again—fingers intertwining with yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world—you realize you were never missing anything.

You just hadn’t found him yet.

[supercantaloupe]

apartment building name redacted. please email me back :(

[enhaeil]

ALL MINE ! ☆ 박종성

—telling husband!jay to "get out" while you change.

✩ ₊˚

you saw a trend on tiktok of people telling their husbands to get out while they change just to see their reaction, and you thought it'd be hilarious to try it on jay.

"jay, baby, can you come here?" you yell from the bathroom, jay immediately making his way towards you.

"yeah?" he says appearing behind you.

"i don't know what to wear today and i wanted your opinion.." you say putting on your best acting skills.

"well what're your options, baby?" he says, stepping closer to the dresses in your hand.

"i was thinking between these two.."

jay puts his hand on his chin, clearly thinking hard about his decision, not paying any mind to you trying to stiffle a laugh.

"hmm .. i think you should go with the black one. you know I really love black on you. plus we can match." he says, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"okay, thank you! can you step out while I get changed?"

jay tries to hide it, but you don't fail to notice how his eyebrows furrow for a few seconds.

"yeah, of course baby, but ... why? everything okay?" he says, backing up to look at you.

"i'm fine!" you respond, playing it cool. "i just want to change real quick. just step out please?"

jay doesn't move, in fact he leans against the doorframe, eyes narrowing.

"wait, baby... we've been married for three years." he says slowly.

you nod, gesturing past the door with a teasing smile. "and you can spend the next three in the hallway if you don't scoot!"

he scoffs, stepping closer. "and also we, yes we, just had sex like ... this morning. in this exact room."

"Jay!" you giggle, trying not to break character.

"why are you acting brand new? like all this ain't mine, love." he teases, hands flying to your waist. your lips twitch as you try not to look at him.

"i mean you told me it was mine, remember? several times. loudly."

"Jay, please—" you finally break into laughter, hitting him with your shirt.

he pretends to be hurt, before playfully smacking your ass.

"that's what i thought!"

a/n: this is a very old draft like MONTHS ago.

[finallychaoticeffigy]

Yandere patient x psychologist reader

You can't believe it. How were you assigned to work with the most dangerous patient in the hospital when you just started working a few months ago.

You shook your head "Sir there must be some kind of mistake here, I don't have enough experience to work with him"

Your boss chuckled putting down his coffee at the nearby table as he looked at you "I know it's been only a little while since you started working here, but i believe in your abilities y/n"

You stared at the door , guards behind following you. Room 13, every psychologist would rather quit than to be seen here. Last time he tried to run away, he killed over 9 guards with just a fork. But like your bosses say you have the abilities so it's only worth a try.

You opened the door. You saw a huge man with a straitjacket on.

"Hi" you greeted, putting down your things at a table. You turned to the guards "Leave us, I'll just call when there's an emergency. They nodded as they closed the door.

The patient, or should i say Darius looked at you. His eyes softened. "H-hey" you looked at him with awe . According to his documents he doesn't speak a word to anyone. So that simple word shocks you.

"Come closer...please" He softly utter making you think. Is he trying to get you to come close so he can also stab you with a fork? Even with a straitjacket on , you never know what happens next. Oh well you can't really talk to him when you are this far, unless you shout that is.

You came close to him. You get a better look at him. Jesus this man is beautiful, you thought. Even though he's a murderer psychopath who looks like he could crush you with his pinkie. He's sitting down but you can already tell he's tall as hell.

You then explained the things he had to do to get better. "Don't forget to drink your medicine at the right time." You fix your coat and stand up ready to leave.

"Wait, leaving already?"

"Yes, our time is over" you explained

"oh...Will you come again tomorrow?"

"Totally" you picked up your papers and left

It's been a month since you have been assigned to Room 13. And dare you say ,you two have gotten a bit close. He's not as cold as you thought he was. Actually, he seems clingy and sweet, but you're still not completely comfortable with him.

"Am back" You gave him a small smile. He quickly turned to you and beamed "Y/n !! Come and hug me please" He softly pleaded.

It's kind of weird how he would want to always get in contact with you but you brushed it off. I mean you do work in a mental ward , people here are naturally weird.

As you get closer to him you notice his straitjacket looks a bit out of place. Your suspicion was confirmed as he suddenly lunged at you.

"Hey ! What are you doing Darius get off " you tried to hit him but he's just too strong, heck he even broke his straitjacket.

"Mmmh you always smell divine baby, You have no idea how long I've waited for you to be in my arms" He commented as he licked your cheeks down to your lips.

"No get off! Help someone! " You screamed feeling terrified at his actions. His arms wrapped tightly around you as he also began to suck and lick all over your neck and he moaned in delight.

"I love you Doc , i love you so much i could die, I just wanna kiss you, lick you, suck you and love you forever." He smiled at you , his other hand moved down to your waist and softly squeezed it.

It continued on for a few minutes , the most terrifying moments of your life until the guards came to sedate him.

-----------------

You were given a week of vacation to make up for the traumatic experience you've been through.

You entered the hospital to get some of your things when you noticed how uncomfortably quiet it was.

You suddenly stopped at your track. Is this a prank? You don't think so. You let out a scream as you saw multiple bodies with blood, gut out.

You know those stupid characters in horror movies when instead of running through the exit they ran upstairs instead.

You used to get so annoyed with that , but who knew that's what you'll also do. You didn't think . You just ran through your office .

You collapse on the floor as soon as you close the door. With trembling hands you began to type.

"911 what's your emergency" the other line calmly asked.

H-hello , th-theres been a massacre at the xxhospital. I saw so many dead bodies please we need help" You cried feeling terrified for your life. You still have dreams, you can't die.

" Maam i need you to stay calm , please go to a safe plac-"

"Hello!" You began to panic as the line on the other side was cut off.

"Y/n" you heard a voice outside calling you

"Doc... please come out , i know you're there" He cooed as he began to bang on the door and twist the knob.

You could only cry , not knowing what to do. "Go away !"

"Fuck y/n even your shaken voice is cute. I love you more and more now"

You ran under your table hoping this nightmare could all go away.

Just then you heard the door break down. No..No this can't be, is he in?

"Baby..." Softly said and yanked you out under the table .

You protest and kicked him which was obviously useless as he began to hug you suffocating you,almost.

"Aww. You look so vulnerable right now Y/n, i could just eat you up" The huge man chuckled at you breathing heavily, you swore you could see heart forming in his dark eyes.

"You're mine.. Everything about you " He picks you up still hugging you tightly.

"Now let's get out of here and live together for the rest of our lives"

----------

English is not my first language so my apologies if my grammar is not perfect

[esote-rika]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Smut 18+ MDNI

Summary: Teasing your virgin boyfriend was all fun and games, until he’s too worked up to function. When the layers of clothing fall off, you’re in for a delightfully large surprise.

Content: 3.2k words, virgin!Spencer, kinda sub undertones, he’s hung af and really fucking whiny, fingering, hand jobs, raw p in v but reader is on the pill, multiple orgasms, Spencer cries because he needs it so bad, reader wears lip gloss, dacryphilia (lemme know if I missed anything)

a/n: Truly just 3.2k words of filth. I wrote this instead of the next chapter for my thesis and I have no regrets. Also, a lot of my italicized words got lost because formatting on the app truly is the bane of my existence, but I reached a personal milestone and wanted to celebrate! So yay, here's a fic as a thank you for supporting my blog and writings ❤️

Sometimes dating Spencer Reid meant throwing subtlety out the goddamn window; the man wouldn’t know subtext if it hit him square on his beautiful, perfectly sculpted face. All your subtle attempts to seduce him have all been entirely unsuccessful, and you're beginning to wonder if he even wants you that way. 

In your defense, you've been dating for over two months now and he still hasn't initiated anything beyond making out. It’s been making you antsy. Of course, his hesitation is nice. It comes from a place of respect after all, and there’s something endearing about his gentle touches, large hands ghosting over your body. You appreciate this easy, steady pace you've set for the relationship. 

But after a particularly busy week for both of you, you've been left aching and needy for something more. 

When you finally found a time that works for both of your schedules, you decided it would be time to make your move. Fuck waiting for him to initiate. You can do it yourself. You'd been subtle about it at first—a hand on his thigh, a few inches higher than where you'd normally place it, lips running over his jaw. 

The man had simply laughed nervously, and returned with a kiss to your forehead.

Briefly, you wondered if it truly is because he's not into you that way. However, that thought flits right out of your pretty head when you see the unmistakable tent slowly forming in his pants. 

So you’d upped your actions, nibbling at his earlobe in the middle of dessert, fingers trailing up his inner thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Screw subtlety. (And hopefully, him too.) By the time you two sat in the back of the cab, he’s a squirming mess.

“S-stay the night?” he’d been so shy about it you debated teasing him a little more. Maybe if you weren’t so horny, you would have, but relief had simply flooded your veins. Finally. So you nod, teased him a little more in the back of the cab until he had to grab your wrists and hold them in place, because he swore he’d probably come in here just from one more brush of your palm. The lightest pressure and he’d be a goner, a pathetic mess, and you hadn’t even really done anything. 

There had been no build up once you got into his apartment. Simply an exchange of quick, sloppy kisses, Spencer pushing you deeper into his house until the couch hits the back of your knees and both of you came tumbling down. He’s already rutting his hips against your thigh, his erection hot even through his slacks. Clumsy fingers strip off fabric and shoes, leaving them strewn haphazardly on his living room floor.

You had pushed him away then, grinning enticingly as you went to straddle his lap. You ground your hips in circular motions against his still clothed crotch, gasping as the obvious bulge gives you even more traction to rub on. 

“No fair,” he whines, fingers leaving crescent shaped indents on your hips, “P-please stop teasing, you’ve been doing it all night.”

He’s so tightly wound it’s almost pathetic. He’s lucky you’ve some semblance of mercy left in your body, because you could probably come undone just from the friction that came by dry humping him. But you relent, sitting back on his thighs as you tug at his underpants. 

“All right baby, since you asked so nicely.”

Thus exposing what’s going to be the small issue of the night.

Rather, the large issue.

His cock springs free and for a moment you just stare at it. Red, veiny, pulsing and huge. Larger than anyone you’ve been with, larger than even the toys that hide in that one drawer in your bedroom closet.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You paled a little.”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips, “You didn’t tell me you were hung.”

His eyebrows scrunch, so ridiculously adorable you have to bite your lip to stifle another giggle.

“Hung?”

“Yeah, like, your dick is huge.”

Red blooms across his cheeks, “It’s - it’s certainly above average—”

“You know what the average length is?”

“I-in North America, yes.”

“I didn’t know you swung that way, baby.”

He groans, moving to hide his face into the crook of your neck, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding.” You manage to shift and catch his head before he has a chance to press it to your neck. Your lips land on his, and he’s pushing his tongue inside your mouth sloppily. When you pull away for air, you add, “You’re just bigger than what I’m used to.”

“Is that bad?”

Is it? One hand wraps around the base of his cock, stroking up delicately, testing out the girth and the weight of him. He shudders, muscles tensing. His fingers dig into your hips. With a grin, you reply, “On the contrary, I think it’s exciting.”

You position yourself over him then, letting the blunt tip run up and down your slick folds. The friction makes you both shiver. Every single ridge and vein of his cock catches on your sensitive flesh, and you can’t help but start moving your hips up and down, rubbing your folds over the length of him. 

“You’re - ah - so wet.” his tone is wretched with desire and awe.

“All for you baby.” You continue your ministrations, letting his length part your folds, the tip hitting your clit at certain angles. His cock is covered in your slick within moments and your poor boyfriend looks like he’s about to combust. You feel the twitch of his cock, the shift in the way he moves his hips—rocking up desperately against you—and you know he’s close. So you stop.

You’re rewarded by another whine.

“Please,” his grip is hurting you now, palms clutching handfuls of your ass. You don’t think he’s even aware of how tightly he’s doing it. “Please, I’m so—”

“Spence, do you really want to cum without even being inside me?” That shuts up his whining. “Mhm, didn’t think so.”

“Can I— please, just—”

“What?”

“Wanna touch you.”

Your lips tug into a smile. At your nod of assent, one of his hands let go of your ass to move to your pussy, the pads of his fingers quickly locating your clit.

“Fuck, Spence,” your head falls forward, forehead meeting his, “Faster, baby.”

He obeys, tilting his head forward to capture your lips. Your mouth opens to him, muffling your moans as you begin to move, shamelessly riding his hand. His finger finds your entrance, dipping shallowly, hesitantly, but you’re so wet that, with a quick thrust of your hips, the digit slips all the way in. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss to watch, the pupils of his eyes nearly eclipsing the ochre irises as your pussy swallows his finger greedily. Transfixed, he adds another finger and it’s your turn to squeeze and mark up his alabaster skin with crescent marks. 

“Yes,” you groan, gasp, writhe in his lap as his fingers curl and find the sweet spot inside you, “Oh god, Spencer, yes!”

He’s entranced as he pumps his fingers in and you, mouth hanging open as your pussy parts and accepts his fingers so prettily. To reciprocate, your hands—plural, yes both hands—wrap around his cock, starting a slow, lazy pace. That throws his rhythm off, fingers stilling inside you.

“Keep going,” you urge him, hands slowing to a stop as well, “Spencer.”

He whines, hips bucking up into your palms, but something in your voice seems to set him straight. Fingers thrust in and out of you again, long and elegant and stretching you for what’s about to come. Satisfied, you pump your hands over his cock again, twisting them every time you motion up, and squeezing as you go down. It doesn’t take long for him to fall apart, his cock twitching before cum shoots from the tip. Because you’re straddling his lap, it makes a mess and lands on both of you—his stomach, your chest, some even on your hair. 

“Oh god,” he’s whining again, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I’m so—”

You silence him with a kiss, still stroking him, as your hips move over his hand. His brain manages to work, curling inside your fluttering walls. The movements are messy, uncoordinated as you chase your orgasm and he struggles to catch up. A whine leaves your lips, soft and needy. Something about it must trigger the neurons in his beautiful brain, make him remember you have the perfect bundle of nerves being neglected and he has more free fingers. 

With a slight shift, he presses his thumb to your clit. 

“Fuck, baby, yes!” you cry out breathlessly, head falling forward on his shoulder. 

“Good?” he asks, increasing pressure on that sensitive nub. Small, quick circles. You wonder when he became so dexterous.

You nod, thighs clenched and quivering as your climax nears, the pleasure in your stomach building and coiling into something white-hot and— “Oh, Spencer!”

His other arm wraps around your waist, crushing you to him as he helps you through your orgasm. In the steady comfort of his arms, the rocking of your hips slow to a stop. You feel his lips at your temple, not really kissing the spot, just resting there. Heavy breaths rifle strands of your hair. 

“Oh god,” he sighs, fingers slipping out of you with a pop, “Angel, that was amazing.”

You straighten up, grinning, “We're not done yet.”

“No?”

Eyes dart down suggestively, and his gaze follows to his own lap. Still completely erect, his cock lays flat against you, heavy and pulsating. “No, I think I need to take care of you a little more.”

“Y-you don't have—”

But you've already lifted yourself to your knees, fighting through the quake in your thighs, in order to position the tip of him at your slick entrance. His hands return to your thighs, nails clamping down on your skin.

“But I'm not— condom—”

How cute, he can barely speak. You grin, press a chaste kiss to the dimple on his cheek. “I'm clean. And on the pill.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

It's more than okay, actually. You're too shades shy of being desperate for his cock to split you open, but you're not sure if he'd survive hearing that sentence so you say, “Of course it is baby. Unless… you want me to stop?” If he catches the hint of insecurity in your voice, he doesn't show it. 

Instead, his head is shaking no, vigorously, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

You smile, and kiss it away, “Okay then. I'll go slow, okay?”

You'd meant it as an empty warning. Really, there's nothing more you want than to impale yourself down on him and ride him like there's no tomorrow. However, as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, as the blunt tip breaches your entrance and spreads your walls, you realize that going slow is probably more of a necessity. 

He's big. Almost uncomfortably so. 

One sharp exhale from your lips and he's suddenly looking at you in concern, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” you gasp, although the furrow in your brows suggest otherwise. 

“You don't have to—"

“Hush, baby, I just need a moment.” You say, forcing yourself to relax and take more. The broadest part of his head pushes through, stretching you wider than you've ever been. Soft, keening sounds fill the air. It's hard to know which came from you, or from him.

You look up, and laugh when you realize Spencer's skin is dappled with large red splotches. He's staring at where the two of you are connected, his cock barely fitting inside you. With a deep breath, you roll your hips around, trying to get used to the feeling. He whines again, his torso falling back onto the cushion, “Oh my god,” he gasps, lower lips trembling, “Oh my god, please.”

“Need you to be patient for me, Spence.” you mutter, dropping down a little more. You place one hand on his thigh for balance, while the other wraps around the base of his cock, stroking him to give him some relief. The greedy bastard bucks up, involuntarily, and you hiss as another inch pushes into you before you're ready.

“Spence!”

“Sorry, I'm sorry! Just - oh god, oh god, please, oh did I hurt you?”

And then it happens. Something glimmers on his cheek as it catches the light. And then another. And again, this time on the other cheek. Your hand leaves his thigh to grasp his chin, tilt his head up.

Your boyfriend is crying. Splayed out on the couch, cushions embedded by the sharp joints of his elbows from where he's propped himself up. He's looking up at you with glimmering liquid gathered on the rims of his lashline. Dripping down his cheeks, only to be replaced by another bout. 

“Baby,” You sigh, pouting as you lean down. Soft lips catch his tears, leaving sticky residue on his cheekbones from the remains of your lip gloss, “It's okay.”

Another sob. Large teardrops crawl down his chiseled face.

Knowing that it’s your fault makes a feeling of power surge through you. “You’re so pretty like this, Spence.” 

“Angel, please—”

The sight of his tear streaked face does something to you, your walls relaxing and fluttering as you manage to accept another inch down. His reaction is instantaneous, nails sinking into your hips, head falling back. “No, no,” you say, hand coming to the back of his head, tilting his head forward again, “Look at me.”

Tear streaked and hazy eyed, he manages to keep his head steady in order to maintain eye contact. It’s a little sick, the way this turns you on, but it allows you to sheath his cock further in. 

You lift yourself up, until only the tip remains notched inside you, and his cock gleams with the evidence of your arousal. With a smile, you sink down again, walls fluttering as you take him deeper, until you have about three fourths of his length buried inside you and he’s little more than a puddle. 

A hiss escapes your lips, brows knitting from the stretch. It isn’t just that his length is impressive, it’s that he’s thick too, splitting your pussy open. But now he's buried more than halfway through, giving you enough room to lift yourself up, and sink down again.

You count that as a victory.

He groans, muscles tensing, and you know he's desperately trying not to buck up and meet your movements. With a small smile, you lean close, forehead resting on his. Large, honeyed eyes stare back up at you, still glassy with tears. You repeat the same motion of your hips, moaning as you feel every single ridge and vein of his cock straining inside your walls. 

“Feel good?” you murmur, swiping a stray teardrop with your thumb. 

“Mhmm,” he nods, breath hitching as your movements grow steady. The sting remains, but it's grown dull now that you’ve gotten more used to the size of him.

“Oh god, baby, why haven't we done this sooner?” you whine as you rock on top of him, enjoying the fullness of having him inside of you. The question is rhetorical, but he's in absolutely no state of mind to answer. His hands grip your hips tightly as he sniffles, unable to do anything else except enjoy the ride you're giving him.

Praises leave your lips, murmured in tones cloyingly sweet and half mocking. 

“Crying over sex, you're so lucky I'm so into you.”

“You look so pretty with tears in your eyes baby."

“Never had pussy this tight, haven't you?” 

That last one rips another sob from him, because you know this is his first, that you're making a mockery out of something significant for him. So you soothe with a kiss, and whispers of “I'm sorry, it's okay, you're doing so good, you feel so good.”

You punctuate it by moving faster, your pussy thoroughly comfortable and so wet that there's barely any struggle to bounce on his dick. However, you're still careful, still unable to take him all the way in. You figure it's something you both can work up to, something for the future. The thought makes you smile. 

Besides he doesn't seem to mind, moaning beneath you as you ride him. He seems to have lost all ability to articulate himself, instead just staring at you with red, tear filled eyes and a slack jaw. It makes you giggle, the way he looks so utterly fucked out. 

You clench around him, walls tightening sharply, sending sensations that make the two of you gasp. 

“I-I'm so close.” He manages to say, his hands now helping you, guiding your body as you impale yourself over his cock again and again, “Please, I'm so—”

“I know, baby, I know, you can come.”

His eyes squeeze shut, and his voice is especially strained when he asks, “Inside?”

You tug his hair teasingly, and his kids flutter open again. With a grin, you confirm, “Inside.”

A few more thrusts and he's gone, crying out, squirming desperately beneath you as spurts of his cum paint your walls. You don't stop, riding him continuously as you chase your own release. Thick, creamy liquid drips from your pussy and down the base of his cock with every movement. 

He sobs even more. 

“Touch me,” You whisper, pleading, “Spence, please baby, I'm so close.”

His fingers are at your clit in an instant, rubbing hasty circles as your pace grows erratic and sloppy. 

“Please,” He gasps, looking up at you with glassy, imploring eyes, “Please I wanna feel you come.”

Your body seems attuned to his desperate pleas, because as soon as those words leave his lips, your pussy clenches around him so tightly you both yelp in surprise. He doesn't stop his ministrations on your clit, helping you through your orgasm until you're panting. For the second time tonight, you collapse against him, face buried at the crook of his neck. 

“My god.”

He laughs, breathless, “My god indeed.” 

He shifts, moving slowly so he doesn't jostle your boneless frame too much. There's a hiss from you as he slowly pulls out. You find yourself clenching around nothing, feeling oddly empty after such an intense fullness. 

Silence wraps around both of you, heady and languid. His fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp. Soft intimacy after a whirlwind of lust.

And then he breaks it, so achingly sweet it almost makes you cry, “I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

“Mhm?”

“Earlier,” He clarifies, lips finding your shoulder and staying there. His voice becomes muffled and sheepish, “When I thrust up.”

“I didn't think you'd remember that.” You tease, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at his curls.

“I've an eidetic memory, remember? I remember everything.” He laughs too. Relief makes his voice sound lighter. “I never want to hurt you.”

“You didn't,” You reassure him, “Well - okay, a little bit, but it's fine. I don't think you meant to.”

“Of course not,” He hums, lips traveling up your neck, “But I'll be more careful next time.”

“Next time huh?”

“Mhm,” Teeth on your jaw. Playful, teasing. “Next time.” 

It sounds like a promise. You know he intends to keep it. 

This was a request by @mggslover lol I forgot to add up top oh well

[tiramissyoucake]

Self indulgent post, Mark being down bad

You were thankful you decided to stay home today, the storm was unrelenting outside as rain pattered down against surfaces like bullets, thunder and lightening exploding amidst the wind and rain. As ominous as it was, taking safety measures and remaining inside comforted you, you followed procedure, anything else is out of your hands.

A warm mug next to you as your favorite blanket draped over your legs, your laptop dimly playing videos of varying types. Everything was fully charged, your phone next to you, quiet as a mouse. You weren't going to move for a while...

A knock on the front door quickly stopped your train of thought, all appreciation dissipating.

Holding back a groan, you got up from the couch, adjusting your clothes as you made a beeline for the door— peephole be damned, who's crazy enough to be out in this weather?

Swinging the door open, you look up to a messy head of sopping wet black hair. You almost didn't recognize Mark since his hair is always out of his face. His eyes were swollen, and his lips tugged into a cross between a frown and a pout. This is the first time you've seen him since your break-up about a month ago.

"... Mark?"

"... Hi." He sounded glad, like he didn't expect you to answer. "... c-can I come in? I just- I need to talk to you, like REALLY need to."

"No." Your answer may have been cold, but your relationship ended on bad terms. "Go home, it's thundering outside."

His heart plummeted to his stomach seeing you close the door, his hand quickly reaching out as well as his foot to keep it open. "Wait— please. (Name), hear me out. Just hear me out and I'll go, I swear." His voice almost cracked as he begged you.

"Mark, it's over. I gave you back all your stuff and deleted your number, just move on—"

"I can't." He whimpered, "please, don't make me do this— I can't find anyone else like you." He sighed, unsure if it was shaky from the cold or the sob bubbling in his throat. "Don't leave me, please- just hear me out."

You grimaced, the door opening further by his hand. "(Name), you don't have to respond now, but please just... don't do this." Mark approached you, clothes soaked through his coat and hands hesitant to touch you. "I-I can't stop thinking about you, please baby—"

You looked away, wincing at the nickname. "I told you not to call me that."

"I'll call you whatever you want— fuck, (name), please—" you heard a thud, glancing back to him you found him on his knees, his arms caging around your legs. "Don't leave me, please- need you so bad.." he sniffled, a choked sob escaping him.

His rambling continued as he rubbed his cheek against your body. You're now mortified as your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. "Mark. Get up. My neighbours will see—"

"Let them, I don't care." He huffed, the tears and sobbing returning tenfold. "Just take me back— I-I'll be good, I promise." Mark looked up at you with glossy eyes, the pink undertones of his skin now more evident from both the cold and the crying. "Please baby, lemme be your good boy again..! I'll be the best, I promise. I love you so much..!"

Your other hand landed on his head by mistake, he almost moaned at the feeling of you touching him in a way that slightly resembled affection, leaning up to your hand. "I know deep down you still love me too.." he huffed, that sentence was such a gamble.

"Let me in, let me show you how much I love you." He kissed your body wherever he could reach, causing you to yelp. "Mark!! What the hell?! I'm serious! Stop it!"

With renewed vigour, he looked up at you. "I'll stop when you let me in... please, baby.. it's so cold outside..."

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ my best friends brother - 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ✴︎

（ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ）𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗑 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋

✫ i imagined her to be 22 idk sorry i love a good age gap also my first charles smau!!

🝮

yn

liked by pierregasly and 1,175,903 others

yn “let’s go for a ride on the boat it’ll be fun”

charles_leclerc Did you or did you not have fun?

⤷ yn you almost flung me off the boat when you had to swerve out of the way of the rock

⤷ charles_leclerc And I apologized for making you bite your tongue on accident bug can we please move past that?

⤷ yn you broke my hairbrush trying to detangle my hair

⤷ charles_leclerc And I ordered you a new hairbrush bug can we please move past that as well?

⤷ sharls_lerklerk charles calling her bug is something very dear to me

arthur_leclerc “It’s not gonna be like last time guys I’ve learned from my mistakes”

⤷ jade_dishtinguinn poor arthur got water boarded for the second this month 😭

⤷ user1634445581 i would never let my bf have a girl best friend

⤷ yn I literally introduced them??

lorenzotl Charles trying to recreate the titanic

⤷ yn always needs the attention on him 🙄 (i’ll give him attention)

♥︎ by charles_leclerc

estiebestie charles finally acknowledging y/n’s crush on him will always be my favorite thing

charles_leclerc Face card never declines

⤷ yn omg u slut 🙂‍↕️

forzacharles why is charles trying to recreate the jack and rose scene with y/n??

⤷ yn my exact thoughts like we just gon keep playing eye tag or you gonna holla at ur boy? 😤

⤷ arthur_leclerc dis gur

alex_albon wait your like kinda giving mermaid turned human vibes??

⤷ lilymhe no I see your vision

lando the money i would pay to see that boat ride

⤷ charles_leclerc You wanna go for a boat ride??? 😄 No one wants to go with me anymore…not even y/n it’s lowkey making me depressed

⤷ lando um no i kinda hope to live to see my next birthday or whatever

⤷ yn you’re such a copy cat you wanna be different so bad but you’ll never be different

⤷ lando ???

⤷ yn don’t ??? me fattie you know you hella wrong for what you did

🝮

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton and 3,972,124 others

charles_leclerc I am hopelessly in love

arthur_leclerc am I tweaking

leclerc_pascale We know son ❤️

francisca.cgomes i thought you were gay for max and carlos? like aren’t you guys a throuple or something

⤷ charles_leclerc that’s common knowledge i fear

charles_leclerc NONONO I TOOK A NAP AND SHE TOOK MY PHONE

⤷ yn HAHAHAHAH

⤷ arthur_leclerc Did you send charles this picture so you could post it 😭

⤷ yn no he already had it in his camera roll

⤷ lordperceval 😦?? i need to see more

charles_leclerc IT WASNT ME GUYS I DIDNT POST THIS

charles_leclerc I AM NOT IN A THROUPLE WITH CARLOS OR MAX GUYS PLEASE BELIEVE ME

danielricciardo Damn bro that is a beautiful picture it really captures her essence

maxverstappen1 Why don’t you capture my damn essence like this?

lorenzotl How did she even get into your phone?

⤷ charles_leclerc She deleted my face from it in like 2021 and added hers

⤷ lorenzotl Why didn’t you delete it?

⤷ charles_leclerc I don’t know how

⤷ lorenzotl Why didn’t you look it up?

⤷ charles_leclerc This conversation is over

⤷ arthur_leclerc So you’ve been manually typing in your password for 4 years cause you don’t wanna delete her Face ID from your phone?

⤷ charles_leclerc This conversation is over

francolapinto raw, next question

⤷ yn 😨😰😥😏

⤷ charles_leclerc No

arthur_leclerc Guys I think I swallowed to much ocean water my stomach hurts

⤷ oscarpiastri google said you have 3 days idk

🝮

yn

liked by charles_leclerc and 1,213,856 others

yn scheming how to make my best friends brother fall madly in love with me

francisca.cgomes y/n searching up “love spells” on tik tok

arthur_leclerc y/n is probably doing some weird dance around a bunch of candles in the shape of a heart with charles leclerc edits playing on her tv and ipad rn

⤷ yn are you fucking watching me through my windows or something damn

charlotte2304 She just ordered a bag of rose quartz guys

hoeforsainzzz charles wants her so bad he’s just trying to play hard to get fr

⤷ yn bro wants to play the long game 🙂‍↕️

♥︎ by charles_leclerc

lecult_4lyfe y/n is the most loyal person ever

alex_albon Omg let me help I’ll show you stuff I did to get lily to date me

⤷ lilymhe ???

⤷ alex_albon Girl I’m a mastermind

sharls.eclair we know she ain’t lying either

oscarpiastri I wish I knew all the lore on this crush

⤷ georgerussell63 Omg I’ll make a PowerPoint

⤷ lando great you’ve brought out powerpoint george thanks a lot oscar. thanks a lot.

🝮

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55 and 2,621,904 others

charles_leclerc training camp, part 2. 😘

yn no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, on the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being held against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind boggling, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

⤷ charles_leclerc i meannn….

⤷ yn you want me so bad

⤷ charles_leclerc i meannnnnn……

⤷ yn OMG HE WANTS ME SO BAD GUYS

arthur_leclerc I can’t believe i just read that

maxverstappen1 Oh my fuck I feel like I just got assaulted or something

lando i need to bathe myself in bleach

lewishamilton Wow that was freaky even for me

oscarpiastri I’m gonna call my mom and tell her I love her

🝮

yn

liked by lando and 2,237,713 others

yn guess who

charles_leclerc Wait

charles_leclerc What the fuck

charles_leclerc Are you serious

charles_leclerc Is this real

charles_leclerc Did you get hacked?

charles_leclerc Who is that

charles_leclerc Bug who is that

charles_leclerc Please stop bug

charles_leclerc Is this is a joke?

charles_leclerc STOP IS THIS REAL ARE YOU SERIOUS IS THIS AN ACTUAL DATE???????

charles_leclerc SOMEBODY ANSWER ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc WHY ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME

charles_leclerc BUG PLEASE I THOUGHT WE WERE GONNA GET MARRIED PLEASE

charles_leclerc I KNOW IVE PLAYED HARD TO GET BUT I’VE LIKED YOU SINCE YOU WERE LIKE 18 AND I KNOW THATS WEIRD CAUSE I WAS 24 BUT I COULDNT HELP IT YOU CANT FIGHT LOVE

charles_leclerc BUG PLEASE IVE LITERALLY HAD YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING HIDDEN IN MY FUCKING SOCK DRAWER FOR A YEAR PLEASE

charles_leclerc PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE YOU WERE ALWAYS GONNA BE MY WIFE

charles_leclerc AH FUCK IM GONNA DIE ALONE

charles_leclerc oh my gosh i missed my chance didn’t i?

charles_leclerc i waited to long

charles_leclerc Didn’t even get to hit that

⤷ arthur_leclerc Oh my gosh charles you sicko you’re a fuckin perv 😂😂🫵🏽

⤷ charles_leclerc shut up arthur now’s not the time

charles_leclerc Who is it I’ll kill him

charles_leclerc It’s the haircut isn’t it??? I told maman she cut it to short

charles_leclerc OHHH MY SHAYLA

charles_leclerc please bug i was gonna marry you i swear so bad i literally had it all planned out

charles_leclerc YOURE MY END AND MY BEGINNING EVEN WHEN I LOSE IM WINNING CAUSE I GIVE YOU AALLLLLLLL OF ME TO YOU

charles_leclerc I always thought Ferrari would be the reason I ended myself but it’s this

⤷ yn nooo don’t kill yourself your so sexy aha

⤷ charles_leclerc OH SO NOW YOU GOT JOKES? ARE YOU OR ARE YOU NOT CHEATING ON ME WITH SOME UGLY ASS SKANK?

⤷ lando who tf are you calling a ugly ass skank?

⤷ charles_leclerc YOU WENT A DATE WITH LANDO FUCKING NORRIS???

⤷ lando girl there ain’t no one in the world that can resist this fine ass honey mhmmmm

⤷ charles_leclerc ok gay ass go kiss on carlos or something fucking slut

⤷ yn oh my gosh charles i’ve never seen this side of you 🙂‍↕️

⤷ charles_leclerc are you or are you not cheating on me with lando fucking norris?

⤷ yn daddy chill

⤷ yn it was all apart of my plan you made it to easy

⤷ yn i’ve never seen you cuss so much

lando we just seen charles leclerc crashing out over his little brothers best friend guys this is a historical moment for us chayn shippers

⤷ arthur_leclerc This is gonna be taught in history classes in the future bro trust

charles_leclerc What the fuck I was just manipulated into confessing my crush on my little brothers best friend to the entire world

alex_albon chayn shippers rise

⤷ lando risen ☝️

⤷ georgerussell63 risen ☝️

⤷ danielricciardo risen ☝️

⤷ liamlawson30 risen ☝️

⤷ charles_leclerc This is exactly who I thought would be apart this club fucking losers

⤷ lando this is how you treat loyal fans? i’m not showing the edits we made now

⤷ charles_leclerc Show it to me pleaseeee send it to me Rachel 😔

⤷ lando why is charles leclerc lowkey turning into a pathetic little bitch boy?

⤷ charles_leclerc What the fuck did I do to you?

⤷ lando you called me a fucking ugly ass skank

⤷ charles_leclerc bruh it was a joke it was just in the heat of the moment

⤷ lando i don’t want to hear your excuses 🙄🤚

🝮

yn

liked by zendaya and 3,916,447 others

yn i’m a mastermind

francolapinto tears in my latina eyes

⤷ francolapinto oh shit wait

arthur_leclerc my favorite panther

⤷ yn 🐆🐆 (i know it’s a cheetah shut up)

francisca.cgomes i know that’s right

lilymhe I’m proud, truly

carlossainz55 Peter…how are you doing that

leclerc_pascale My prayers have been answered

pierregasly Great get married now

⤷ yn let’s have a double wedding

⤷ francisca.cgomes omg lets do it

charles_leclerc bugs school of manifestation

⤷ yn a masterclass

♥︎ by charles_leclerc

danielricciardo This is in fact a love story

alex_albon younger me is probably so shook rn

⤷ lando 21 year old me is flabbergasted rn

maxverstappen1 Damn what spells are you using

⤷ yn you’ll never know 🤫🤫

lorenzotl I’ve never seen him look so free

⤷ yn this was kinda poetic lowk

oscarpiastri I can see the future

carlossainz55 Dreams do come true ig

lewishamilton damn girl teach me your ways

sharls_lerklerk what’s 4 + 4??

estiebestie i need to know what that damn dance looked liked cause wtf

🝮

charles_leclerc

liked by tomholland2013 and 4,455,813 others

charles_leclerc she bamboozled me

yn omg you want me so bad

⤷ charles_leclerc I do want you so bad

⤷ yn my pants were JUST on i swear

♥︎ by charles_leclerc

yn 7 year old me is bouncing off walls rn

♥︎ by charles_leclerc

lando you’re welcome i was part of that plan

⤷ charles_leclerc ugly ass skank

arthur_leclerc seriously just get married you already admitted to having the ring

⤷ charles_leclerc Yeah I can’t believe I just told the whole world that

⤷ lando cause you were being pathetic you bitch

⤷ georgerussell63 Omg loving this beef let’s keep this energy in the new season ❤️

⤷ f1 Let’s not ❤️

alex_albon Cute or whateva

carlossainz55 This calls for celebration! Let’s party like there’s no tomorrow

⤷ yn damn how are things at williams?

⤷ alex_albon excuse me i’ll have you know that he was chugging down coffee and munching on all the food did they not feed him at ferrari?

⤷ f1 Let’s not ❤️

alex_albon So as president of chayn club I will be accepting a check for my undying support over the years

⤷ georgerussell63 and i as vice president

⤷ lando and i as the founder

⤷ danielricciardo and i as secretary

⤷ liamlawson30 and i as treasurer

⤷ charles_leclerc I hope your hungry…for nothing

⤷ lando girl you thought you ate that 😒 i want our checks by the end of the week or i’m never sending you our edits

⤷ charles_leclerc be expecting mail in the next few days ❤️

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[bruciemilf]

Still very haunted by the idea of a young! Justice League AU.

They come across each other with an intentional, common goal. It feels like coincidence, but it also doesn’t. It’s destiny at work.

When Clark is 18, spoon-fed good manners, tall like a tree who thinks it’s a flower, sunshine laughing in his blood, he gently carries two cows back in the barn when he hears it.

Buildings decomposing. Faint, blaring cars dying. Soft whispers of ‘please please— oh god — I don’t want to die— what is that? What is that?!’

Metropolis cracks open. There’s a wound in the sky the police, the army, cannot heal. He tried calling. No one picked up.

It’s wide and scary and red and bleeds violently and Clark is so scared — but if he can survive being Perry White’s intern, he can survive this.

He grabs his Pa’s red flannel, ties it across his midsection, and flies faster than fear.

Clark learns two things that day.

1) He hits good, but he can’t throw a punch to save his life.

2) The scariest boy in the world has eyes that could make oceans cry.

Dressed in tactical gear, cobalt blue, bat shaped symbol drawn in neon across his chest. Runny eyeliner, smudged, mixed in stale blood running down his temple.

Glare so strong it could bury God.

The Bat carries an injured civilian on his back and two kids under his arms. Looks at Clark like someone seeing a shooting star for the first time.

Clark’s heart caves in on itself. Say something cool.

“I like your — blood.”

Clark hopes the next alien thing leaking from that gaping hole puts him out of his misery.

The boy blinks.

“How hard can you hit?”

Clark gulps. He gets a truck thrown at him and he stops it with one hand. He doesn’t even look at it.

“Pretty hard.”

—-

Barry Allen doesn’t arrive into battle. He trips into it.

Fifteen. Physics homework slams against settling air when he stops. Blur of red and shaking like a live wire. His sneakers light up when he walks.

“Hi! I’m Barry! Does anyone have a granola bar?”

Bruce blinks. He hands him one from the emergency compartment.

“Did everyone see that thing?! I mean — you can’t really miss it, I saw it from my house and thought ‘oh that’s weird I better go check it out’ and — IS THAT BLOOD?!”

Bruce, flat, “Not ours. Entirely.”

“Oh, okay. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. “

Clark — carefully — moves Barry out of the way so he doesn’t get impaled by a car. Barry screams.

—-

Hal Jordan, 17 and 4 months, is five bad jokes in aviator glasses and holds the world by his teeth.

He sees Metropolis burn from Jupiter.

He inherited a dying wish from a good man, got chosen by a purpose three times bigger than him, and begs the council to go.

They have to debate first.

Hal can’t sit around to decide if this is the day he’s gonna be brave.

He crashes into battle like a green meteor, blasts Britney Spears from his ring (the battle remix), and pretends he’s not rotting with fear.

“Green Lantern, willing and able! No need to panic, people! Coast City represent! Let’s GOOOO— IS THAT A BROKEN LEG?!”

Bruce, half his face shielded by Kevlar, swallows a molar. “Fractured.”

Hal throws up a little. Clark cries. Barry looks a sugar rush away from exploding.

“You call yourself Green Lantern?” Bruce raises a brow, like he’s speaking to the human version of a typo.

“Yeah? What do you call yourself? Nickelback and Trauma?”

“The Bat.”

“…Man? Boy? Customised?”

“I can’t call myself Batman yet. If I do it now, it won’t be chronologically accurate.”

—

Oliver Queen, 17, watches it on the news.

He’s got a meeting at 11, a tan at 1, a court hearing for punching a senator at 3, and a half broken bow from last night’s patrol.

He’s pretty sure he’s going to die if he goes.

He knows he’ll regret it more if he doesn’t.

“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

Clark takes a breath, raises two fists he doesn’t know what to do with, and looks up to a dying sky like he’s begging it to last longer. He doesn’t answer.

He just looks at Bruce, summer blue eyes wide, fear melted over.

“I’m not hitting until you do.”

So Bruce does.

—-

A girl, taller than all of them, older than all of them, grin sharper than her sword, pierces through battle like she has war on a leash.

Diana is 18, — in their years. She kills three aliens in under a minute.

Covered in guts and glory and sunny, walks up to them like nothing.

“We will fight together, yes?”

They all nod, a bit too scared of finding out what happens if they don’t.

[cherrysinner]

─── A LITTLE FAMILY ♡

♡ pairing: neighbor!clark x single mom!reader

♡ summary: how the next-door-neighbor who helped you move into your apartment became a part of your family.

♡ warnings / tags: domestic fluff! wc: 1.8k

♡ author's note: clark isn't the stepfather... he's the father that stepped up.

CLARK KENT MASTERLIST ♡

clark had been in your life since your daughter was two months old when you became his neighbor in metropolis, having left your no-good ex to live closer to your parents.

he had been on his way home from work when he noticed the large moving truck, a woman trying to lift a moving box, clearly struggling with it. "uh, hello." he cleared his throat, and you straightened your back, letting out a heavy, exhausted breath. "do you want some help?"

"no thanks, i've-"

"yes, please, dear." an older woman who you resembled emerged from the apartment building, interrupting your refusal, "mom." "he's a strong young man, let him help! thank you so much." the woman smiled at clark, the man feeling his cheeks flush as he turned back to you.

"really, you don't have to help me, you're probably swamped." "i've got time." the man smiled widely, taking the box you'd been struggling with and lifting it up with ease, starting to carry it towards the apartment building.

he could overhear your mother letting out a small gasp, whispering, "he's handsome!" making you let out another muttered "mom!"

surprisingly, it didn't even take one more hour for all the boxes to be scattered around your new apartment, even though you'd thought it'd take the rest of the evening. you'd said goodbye to your parents, and then turned to the stranger with a grateful smile on your face.

"thank you so much. really, you're a lifesaver. please let me know if i can ever repay you."

"don't, it was really no bother. i'm glad i could-" clark's sentence was interrupted by the sound of a small sob coming from the other room, your head snapping to the direction, "i should... go get that." you said with a small, tight-lipped smile, "but thank you, really."

"of course. i live right across the hall, so feel free to knock anytime if you need anything. i'm clark." he smiled, holding out his hand, and you shook it, telling the man your own name.

only a few days later, there had been a knock on clark's door, and you were standing there with a smile on your face and a platter of cinnamons, and you asking him for help with assembling a desk. that was the first time he met your daughter, rosie.

it wasn't long until small, neighborly favors turned into random friendly hangouts, until those turned into seeing each other nearly every day, and that became butterflies that fluttered around clark's stomach whenever he saw you like he was a teenager again. and three months after he'd first met you, clark kissed you in the middle of the apartment he'd helped decorate when you'd beat him at a game of chess and done the dorkiest, most adorable victory dance. after that, you became even more inseparable.

"drumroll, pleeeease!" you requested, clark starting to tap the table, "and today we will be seeing if our contestant, young seven-month-old rosie likes... cheese!" clark watched amusedly as you offered rosie a thin slice of cheese. rosie looked at the thing, clearly examining it, before bringing it to her mouth. when she took it out, you let out a dramatic gasp, only for the infant to put it back in her mouth. "she liked it!" you held your hand up for clark to high-five you, before pressing a kiss on his lips.

clark knew about rosie's biological father, how he abandoned you both a month after rosie's birth, and every day that went by with you and rosie, clark couldn't picture how someone would ever want to give this up. giving up waking up next to you, giving up holding you, giving up kissing you... or giving up hearing rosie giggle, giving up hearing her babble nonsense, giving up the way she'd happily clap when he fed her something good. he couldn't even picture wanting to give up dirty diapers or waking up in the middle of the night due to her cries.

a while after rosie's first birthday, you'd asked clark to move in with you two; a lot of people would think that moving in with someone after being together for seven months is too fast, but since you'd gotten together, he'd only spent a handful of nights at his own apartment, only going there to get a change of clothes and pick up the mail. and so, a blue toothbrush officially joined a pink toothbrush and a flower-patterned baby toothbrush in your bathroom. not 'for now' but 'for good'.

a few months after clark had moved in, rosie had wobbled to the bathroom door while clark was brushing his teeth, the toddler always following him around. the man turned to the toddler, with a tooth-pasty smile, "what do you need, sweetie?"

"mama."

"what'd you say?" clark mumbled through the toothpaste, his eyes wide turning as large as saucers, making him spit out the toothpaste as he called out to you, "honey, she said it!" "what?" "rosie said mama!"

you rushed to the bathroom with wide eyes, "she did what?" you exclaimed, both of you dropping to your knees right next to her, the little girl looking between you two with wide eyes. "rosie, did you say mama? say it again for mama." "come on, rosie posie, say mama."

the little girl pursed her lips as if considering your joint suggestion, until finally babbling, "mama." making you squeal happily as you pick her up into your arms, standing there with the widest smile he'd ever seen on your lips, "i'm your mama." you smiled, and clark pulled you into his side, pressing a kiss on top of your head as rosie let out small giggles.

that night, the two of you were laying in bed, your hand drawing patterns on clark's chest through his shirt, a thoughtful hum leaving your lips. clark looked to you, stroking back a bunch of loose hair, "i'm pretty sure i can hear the gears turning in your head. talk to me?"

"well, rosie saying mama today made me think… what do you want her to call you?" your question made clark swallow, his voice turning weak, "what… what do you want her to call me?" "i mean… clark is probably hard for a toddler to say." "i think so too."

your eyes glimmer as you looked into your partner's eyes, biting down on your lower lip nervously, "would you be okay with it if rosie called you dad?"

"you'd… really want that?" "only if you're okay with that. i mean… you're the only dad she's ever known. she looks at you with the same love she looks at me. even before we were together, you were so great with her. there's no one else that i'd want for her to use that title on. no one else that deserves it." clark’s thumb went to stroke your cheek, warmth filling his chest because you wanted him to be rosies dad, "then i'd love it if she called me that."

and it wasn't long until both of you and clark were reffering to him as 'dada' to your daughter. whether he picked her up, if he was playing with her, feeding her, reading to her...

at the end of every evening, you'd play a game where you'd point to your face and say 'mama', while clark would point to his and say 'dada'. then when you'd point at your face again, your daughter would mumble 'mama', but then babble the same thing when clark pointed to his face.

but as weeks, and eventually a few months went by, nothing seemed to work. eventually, as your daily game continued, she'd learned that you were mama, and no longer called clark that, simply stared at him with a big smile on her face, clark responding with one of his own as his finger went to stroke her chubby cheek.

"i'm sure she'll say it eventually." you sighed as you sat down on the couch and stretched your arms over your head, rolling your shoulders. without you having to say a word, clark's large hands went to your shoulders, starting to massage them, making you let out a contented sigh as you turned yourself so that your back was to him.

"she will." clark mumbled, pressing his thumb right where your shoulders were aching, causing you to let out a small moan of relief. "she's smart. just have to be patient." "have i ever told you how much i love you?" you hummed as your partner's hands continued their movements.

"only every day." clark leaned closer, brushing some hair aside and bringing his lips to the pulse point on your neck, leaving a warm kiss there that made a shiver run up your spine, before humming against your skin, "i love you more."

one evening, you and clark were standing in the kitchen; you were washing dishes while clark were drying them, the man occasionally peeking into the living room to make sure that rosie was still playing.

"it was... surreal. fifteen people were trapped in there." clark recalled, shaking his head as he wiped a mug dry. "i can imagine that. fires are really scary, i've always worried that i'm accidentally gonna start a grease fire and panic and throw water on it. i'm glad you got everyone, yourself included, out in one piece."

"don't worry. if you're ever in trouble, just say call name and i'll come faster than you can finish your sentence." he turned to you with a smile and you looked up at him, shaking your head, "you big sap." "you little sap."

clark leaned down to bring his lips to yours, but as you were about to kiss, a loud, giggly exclamation came out of the living room.

"dada!"

you froze, pulling apart from one another, eyes wide, "did she just-"

with rubber gloves still on your hands, you and clark rushed into the living room to find rosie enthusiastically clapping her hands. when she saw you and clark, she pointed to the tv. "dada!" she happily announced.

when you turned to the tv, you saw that it was playing the news. on screen, there was a close-up video of clark as superman after he'd saved people from a burning building.

you watched as clark rushed to rosie and scooped her up into his arms, standing there with the widest smile you'd ever seen on his lips. when you went to them, clark pulled you into his side. "i'm your dada." he mumbled, pressing a kiss on top of the toddler's head and making her giggle.

"you are."

taglist: @angel06babysworld @raahosh @biancasisstuff @iamarealmicrowave @angelicp0etry

join the taglist!

[a-casxandra]

I seriously love your writings both of caleb and rafayel......! You literally ate!.....And i know you are gonna write zayne next but i really wanna see them regret more like how about a part three where they see you with some man and their jealousy spikes (but the man is like just a friend or relative)....and when they pull you away to some other place to talk in private you tell them that's how you felt when they were with mc but you are not like them...and blah blah blah angst angst angst....pretty please

🥺🥺

❝𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦.❞

𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒆 | 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒏��𝒏-𝒎𝒄)

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 | 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒏-𝒎𝒄)

It had been six months.

Six months since he last saw you.

Six months of scrolling through his camera roll, hoping your face would blink back to life.

Six months of unfinished messages in his drafts.

Six months of pretending to move on, while being stuck in the same moment you walked away.

Rafayel saw you again on a Sunday.

Bright day. Warm air. People laughing around a pop-up market near white sand bay.

And there you were—laughing too.

Wearing a white sundress. Hair tied up in a loose bun. Holding an iced drink, chatting with some guy. He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Well-dressed. Probably kind.

Rafayel froze mid-step. A sharp breath lodged in his throat like a punch to the lungs.

You were smiling.

You looked… okay.

Without him.

And that hurt more than anything.

The man leaned in to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. Rafayel didn’t think.

He moved.

Before he could stop himself, he crossed the street, pushed through the crowd, and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped.

“Rafayel?” Your voice was pure shock.

The man stepped in instantly, protective. “Who the hell are you?”

But Rafayel’s eyes were only on you.

“Can we talk?” he asked, breath shaky. “Please. Just a few minutes.”

You looked at your companion, then back at him. “…It’s okay. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You always were too kind.

You walked to a quieter part of the bay, away from the crowds. Rafayel didn’t speak at first. He just stared.

“You look good,” he murmured finally.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “So do you. I saw the awards you won. Congrats.”

It felt like poison.

He didn’t care about the awards. Not when you weren’t in the crowd, cheering.

Then he snapped. “Who is he?”

You blinked. “Seriously?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” His tone was colder than intended.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “He’s my cousin, Rafayel.”

He shut up.

“God,” you muttered. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

Rafayel took a shaky breath.“I thought I saw you happy with him. I thought—”

“You thought I forgot you?” You looked at him now. Really looked. “You think I just walked away and stopped feeling anything?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t know. You never answered my texts. You shut me out completely.”

“Because you already shut me out first.” Your voice trembled. “I begged for your attention. I waited on you. I stood in the shadows, loving you silently while the world shipped you with her. I told myself it was just acting. That you’d come back home to me every time. But you didn’t. Not really.”

"i was stupid." he whispered. “I didn’t see what I was losing.”

“No,” you said, eyes glossy now. “You saw. You just didn’t care until it was gone.”

Rafayel felt the ache throb harder than ever. “I care now.”

You looked away. “Too late.”

Silence fell between you like an ocean.

“I still love you,” Rafayel said, voice cracking.

You shut your eyes at that. “And I’ll probably always love you. But love doesn’t fix trust, Rafayel. It doesn’t erase being forgotten.”

He nodded slowly. Pain blooming behind his ribs.

“I’m not asking for another chance,” he said quietly. “I just… I wanted to hear your voice again. To know if you ever missed me.”

You turned to him then. “I missed you every night I cried myself to sleep,” you said. “I missed you every time I saw your face on a billboard and knew that smile wasn’t mine anymore.”

A long pause.

“Do you hate me?” he asked.

“No,” you said gently. “I mourned you. That’s worse.”

Rafayel swallowed hard. You stepped back, and he felt you slip through his fingers all over again.

“I hope you find someone who chooses you every day,” you said. “Even when the cameras are off.”

He blinked fast. “And I hope you find someone who never makes you feel like a secret.”

You nodded. Then gave him the softest smile.

“Goodbye, Rafayel.”

As you walked away—back to your cousin, to your laughter, to your healing—Rafayel stood frozen, shoulders trembling, heart hollowed out.

He got his closure.

He got his answer.

But he never got you again.

It was a bookstore.

Of all places, it had to be that damn bookstore.

Caleb hadn’t even meant to go in. He was just wandering—haunted, really. Some part of him was always retracing the places you'd once gone together, like maybe memory could substitute for presence.

Then he saw you.

Poetry aisle. Laughing. With someone else.

Your smile hit him like a truck.

The guy beside you was tall. Kind-looking. He leaned close—too close. Your hand brushed his. You didn’t flinch. You laughed again, head tilted, that same way you used to tilt it with him.

Caleb’s stomach twisted.

Jealousy. Regret. Panic. All-consuming.

He moved before he thought, crossing the store and standing right behind you. “Hey.”

You turned. A flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Caleb?”

The man beside you stiffened slightly. Caleb didn’t care.

“We need to talk,” he said, voice low, sharp. “Now.”

You blinked, instantly guarded. “Excuse me?”

“Please,” he said, this time quieter. “Just—five minutes.”

You exchanged a glance with the man beside you—calm, collected, not threatened. He nodded once, as if giving you the choice. “I’ll be right back,” you told him softly.

You followed Caleb. Not willingly—but not resisting either.

He led you out the side door, into the quiet alley behind the building. The moment it closed behind you, the air shifted. Old ghosts crept in.

You crossed your arms. “What is this?” you asked.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. “I saw you. With him. I just—I lost it.”

You stared. “So?”

“So I couldn’t handle it,” he blurted. “Seeing someone else make you laugh like that. It felt like being erased.”

You tilted your head. “Funny. That’s exactly how I felt when you forgot how to love me.”

He flinched.

“I know I don’t have the right,” he whispered. “But I can’t lie to you. I haven’t moved on. I haven’t been able to.”

“Caleb,” you said softly. “What are you doing?”

“I want to start over,” he said. “Not as who we were. As who we could be. Coffee. A conversation. One small step—”

You shook your head.

He stopped.

“I’m not angry anymore,” you said. “And I’m not bitter. But I’m done.”

His eyes searched yours. “You’re really saying that?”

“I waited,” you whispered. “I gave you chances. You wasted them. Now I’ve learned to build a life where I don’t have to be someone’s second thought.”

Tears burned at the corner of his eyes. “But I still love you.”

“I believe you,” you said. “But love isn’t enough. Not when it comes too late.”

He reached out, then stopped himself. “So that guy…?”

“My cousin,” you said again, almost tiredly.

Caleb blinked.

You offered a soft, almost sad smile. “It’s not jealousy that should’ve brought you here. It should’ve been realization. It should’ve been me.”

“I was a coward.”

“You were,” you agreed. “But that’s not my burden to carry anymore.”

Silence.

Wind passed between you both like a closing chapter.

“I hope you find peace,” you said gently. “And next time—don’t wait until it’s over to say what matters.”

You stepped back, and this time, he didn’t stop you.

Just stood there, like a man watching a door close on the version of himself he’d only just begun to love again.

You disappeared back into the store, the world, your future.

And Caleb stayed in the alley—

Finally, alone.

Truly.

Utterly.

Alone.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 : my actual plan was to have them get back together. but then i remember, you can't heal using the same method that hurted you. so yeah, i gave them closure instead. but don't worry i'm gonna give all of them happy ending! (●'◡'●)

[bitters-n-sweets]

run an ex — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader You and Robby run into your ex-fiance, who apparently is sorry for what he did.

warnings: implied age gap, we hate your ex-fiance bcs he cheated on you with one of your bridesmaids, robby being a supportive king bcs he knows you can handle yourself, fluff (this can be considered a continuation of take a break, but can be read on its own) masterlist

It was supposed to be a quiet night.

Robby had come home on time after his shift, even left slightly early so he could prepare for his date with you. You’ve been wanting to try the new place down the street that looked like a piece of Little Italy tucked into the neighborhood, like romance itself, glowing in the corner with golden lights and ivy-draped windows. Somehow, Robby had managed to snag a reservation.

He’d worn his navy polo and beige pants that you said made him look incredibly sexy, and picked up flowers on the way to your place.

You, on the other hand, had gotten ready, wore a nice silk dress, the perfume Robby loved so much, and smiled when he handed you the flowers. You put them into a vase before the two of you left, walking hand in hand into the evening.

Now, you’re sitting in a corner booth, still hand in hand, sipping wine while you wait for your food. The low hum of soft Italian music and the clink of glass around you in the background.

“How was work?” Robby asks, his thumb brushing lightly over yours.

You shrug with a small smile. “It was okay—oh! Speaking of work, my manager’s getting married next week. Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” he says without missing a beat. “Your manager, Hannah, right?”

“Yeah!” You light up. “You remember her?”

He chuckles. “How could I forget your work-wife?”

You laugh, nudging his foot under the table. “She’s basically my own Dr. Abbot.”

Robby raises a brow. “Are you saying Jack is my work-husband?”

“Is he not?”

Robby lets out a dramatic sigh. “He is. We’ve been married for six years. I’m so sorry you had to find out like this.”

You laugh again, and Robby just watches you, his own grin tugging at the corners of his mouth like he couldn’t look away even if he tried.

Dinner ends slower than it began, each course giving way to warm conversation and stolen glances. Robby pays for the bill even before you could reach your wallet, and you smile appreciatively while he winks at you.

You loop your arm around his as you walk out of the restaurant, and stop mid-way when the door almost hits your face.

“Sorry—oh.”

That voice. Cocky. Familiar. Just loud enough to cut through the warmth of the moment.

Your stomach drops before you even look.

Robby feels it—how your hand stiffens slightly in his—and follows your gaze to the man standing in front of you. He had changed his hair, but you’d still recognize him anywhere. Ethan. Your ex-fiancé. The Ethan who cheated on you with one of your bridesmaids six months before your wedding, who didn’t even have the decency to tell you himself—you found out through a half-drunk voicemail from her.

Ethan stops, eyes widening when he sees you. “I—I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You straighten your posture, grip tightening on Robby’s arm. “Hi, Ethan.”

His eyes flick briefly to Robby, then back to you. He hesitates, “I’ve been meaning to reach out,” he says, stepping a little closer. “I—I owe you an apology. For everything.”

You don't reply immediately, just hold his gaze. He shifts awkwardly, trying to read your silence.

“You look... great,” he adds. “Really great.”

You take a deep breath. Robby doesn’t move, doesn’t interrupt. He just stands beside you, he knows you don’t need saving—but he’s there anyway.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” Ethan continues, voice softening. “I messed up. I know that now. What we had—it was real. I want to try us again. A new start.”

You blink, before letting out a breath that sounds like a laugh. “No thanks.”

You try to walk past him, but Ethan steps in your way.

“Please,” he says, voice low and desperate. “Just… give me another chance.”

You stare at him like he’s completely lost his mind. “You cheated on me with one of my best friends, Ethan. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He scoffs, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “Okay, and now what?”

“Now,” you say firmly, “you get out of my way and out of my life, because I’m actually happy.”

He shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping as his eyes flick to Robby. “What is he, your sugar daddy or something?”

Your eyes widen.

Robby makes a face that says ‘you're in trouble now’, and calmly holds out his hand. You hand him your purse without breaking eye contact with Ethan.

“What did you just say about him?”

Shit is about to go down.

You step toward Ethan. He instinctively backs up, the shift in your energy obvious even to him. Right on cue, the waiter opens the door—Robby slides a generous tip into his hand just for that—and Ethan, too focused on you, trips over the steps behind him as he stumbles backward.

“He’s none of your business,” you say, voice sharp and clear. “But for the record? Robby is my boyfriend. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He makes me feel safe, wanted—loved. He treats me like I’m the most important person in the world. And I love him.”

Ethan’s brushing dirt off his coat, flustered, when Robby walks past—shoulder checking him just enough to make a point.

“Oops,” Robby says with a smirk. “My bad.”

You don’t bother looking back.

Robby laces his fingers through yours, guiding you down the street like none of it ever happened. Behind you, Ethan’s voice fades into the night, muttering curses under his breath.

You just smile and laugh with Robby, hugging his arm.

[karmicmortal]

Wife!reader who's thinking of a divorce and obsessed sunghoon who makes sure she has no way out by babytrapping her

content warnings husband!sunghoon, toxic relationship, toxic!sunghoon, manipulation, coercion, unprotected sex, breeding, baby trapping, aged up (28)

don’t like it? don’t read it!

sunghoon was not taking the separation well. the two of you have been married for just under three years and it was already falling apart in front of him. you’d been arguing a lot lately, always on edge, and it began to take a toll on both of you. it just seemed like you couldn’t find a middle ground and it was frustrating. but he never wanted you to leave.

he watched helplessly as you packed some of your things, preparing to leave and stay elsewhere. god knows where. if it’s not with him, he doesn’t care and it’s not good enough. you told him that it would only be for a little while. just long enough to sort yourselves out. then you’d be back in his arms and your marriage would be back to normal.

it’s been a month and you still hadn’t come back. the house felt empty. the house the two of you decided to buy together in hopes of growing old together and raising a family in it. he often tried reaching out to you, calling and texting, desperate to win you back, but nothing seemed to be working. you always ignored his attempts to contact you.

yesterday he received a text from you. it was a simple, earth-shattering text.

you: i’ll be coming by tomorrow to collect more of my things.

collecting more of your things? sunghoon couldn’t allow that. if you’re getting more things, taking them away instead of coming back to him, that can only mean one thing.

he made sure he called off from work the next day. he wanted to be there when you showed up so he could convince you to stay with him. even if he had to get on his knees and beg you. when you married him, you made a vow to stay with him through thick and thin, for better or for worse, and he was going to make sure you upheld that. there’s no way he was going to let you leave him.

you were surprised to see sunghoon when you walked into the house. the last time you saw him in person was the day you left. that was after a big fight, so really, the last time you saw sunghoon was when he was angry. when sunghoon is angry, he can be harsh and vicious, which is why you decided that it would be best to leave. but much unlike those moments, now he looks different. regretful? resigned? just wordlessly looking at you as you cautiously stepped foot into the house.

neither of you say anything. you slip your shoes off, putting on your slippers that were right where you left them a month ago, and begin to make your way to your bedroom. sunghoon doesn’t follow you immediately, but he eventually makes his way into the room as well. he finds you having pulled out a suitcase from the back of your closet, laying it out on the floor, waiting for you to fill it with more of your clothes.

you try to ignore his stare. you can feel him watching your every move. he’s stood by the doorframe, watching closely, tracking your movement with his eyes, still not speaking. then he moves. he walks toward you and begins pulling your items out of your luggage. each neatly folded top, dress, every pair of pants and even your panties that you had placed in there was pulled out and thrown haphazardly to the side. some landing on the floor, on the nightstand on your side of the bed, on the bed itself — it didn’t matter.

“what are you doing, sunghoon?” it’s the first time he’s heard your voice in a month. and that almost makes him start crying.

he drops to his knees, crawling toward you and reaching out. his hands grip the backs of your thighs as he pulls you closer to him, resting his head on your stomach. “please,” he begs. “don’t do this. stop…don’t go.”

you sigh and try to take a step back. sunghoon sniffles.

“i love you,” he tries again.

a mix of a laugh and a scoff slips past your lips. “you love me?” he nods. “it sure didn’t feel like it that day. or all of the times before it that we fought. is that what you call love?”

he shakes his head, looking up at you from his position on his knees. “i’m sorry, please. i love you. i really do. i don’t want this — i can’t live without you.” you made eye contact with him but quickly looked away. he was looking at you with pleading eyes, the same eyes you fell in love with many years ago. if you looked at him, you’re sure that you would fold, which is the opposite of what you intended to do. “we’re supposed to be team and work through our problems together. we were going to start trying for a family. do you really want to start over now?”

that hits a nerve. you were initially very excited to have all of the talks with sunghoon about starting a family. planning everything, from when you were going to stop taking your birth control to whether you want a boy or a girl first and what you’d name them. then, you guess, the stress of planning began to take a toll on the both of you and you guys became more irritable. which led to more fights than ever before. most of which started on sunghoon’s side, so you’re not sure why he’s bringing that up now. he was the one that would lash out at you when you asked him for just a few minutes of his time. just a quickie in hopes that it would knock you up. so for him to bring up the fact that you wanted a family so casually like this…you can’t help but feel betrayed. and angry.

“are you serious right now?” your voice was thickly laced with venom, much different than the usual soft tone you’d speak to your husband with. “of course i don’t want to start over! i wanted to be with you forever. wanted to carry your babies and raise them in a happy family! you’re the one who took that away from me because you never wanted to try!”

tears cloud your eyes and a tension begins to choke you. “sure, maybe i was a little pushy about it. i’ll admit that. but is it so wrong for a wife to want to have her husband’s child? is it so wrong to think we were on the same page because you said so? if you didn’t want to have kids with me, sunghoon, you could’ve just said so.”

“i do want to have kids with you, baby.” he squeezes the backs of your thighs again, trailing his hands up the curvature of your ass to finally rest on your lower back. “i want to get you pregnant so badly. i was just worried about the future…this is a big change, but i’m ready. i promise. we can work this out and have the family we always wanted.”

sunghoon begins to press kisses to your lower stomach, so dangerously close to your pelvis that you take a shaky breath. you weren’t wearing anything elaborate, just a regular tee you’d stolen from sunghoon long ago when you were just dating and a flimsy pair of leggings that were see-through when you bend over, so you can feel his breath and kisses through the fabric. you try to push sunghoon away, but he presses closer to your body. his hands that were on your lower back begin to pull the shirt up, exposing your skin to him. “you’d be so pretty pregnant, carrying my baby in your belly. i can’t lose you. don’t want another man to have you. i’ll do anything to fix my mistake.”

though you tried to fight it, you find yourself letting sunghoon guide you to the bed. the same queen sized bed you used to share, cuddling and talking for hours about your plans for the future. he doesn’t waste any time pulling your leggings and panties down, taking in the sight of you finally with him after what feels like forever.

“such a pretty pussy. already so wet for me,” he kisses right on your mound, purposely not getting as close to your clit as you want him. “like always.”

you told yourself that it was just going to be one time. this was your break-up sex and you’d still leave him in the morning while he’s sleeping, maybe leave a note telling him that you just can’t do this anymore. but as sunghoon pushes his thick cock into your soaked cunt, moaning about how you take him so well and he’ll fuck you as many times as he needs to until you’re pregnant with his baby so you can’t leave him, the thought leaves your mind as quickly as it entered.