#The answer to all this and more is: probably not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pathologicalreid · 2 days

Text

extraordinary measures | s.r.

in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fetal abduction, potentially inaccurate medical information, entirely from spencer's pov, very violent crime, mom!reader, hospitals, medication, spencer lashes out at jj, rossi's son. word count: 4.41k a/n: the people said dad!spencer angst and i delivered. also! trying something new with formatting my posts. i pay for canva pro and need to get my money's worth.

The hospital staff had moved them into a conference room, giving the BAU more space to spread out – and so Spencer’s pacing wouldn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Not to us. Not to me. Not to her.

The statistics on fetal abduction were alarming. Before today, there had only been thirteen cases since Spencer had joined the BAU. Today alone, there had been two.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed by two knocks on the door, “I’m so sorry, but have you had the chance to fill out some of the forms that we gave you?”

Answering for him, Penelope grabbed the clipboard off of the table and passed it to the nurse, “The insurance card is on the top,” she informed the nurse. Nervously, the blonde looked between the medical professional and Spencer, “Is there any update?”

The nurse cringed slightly, “I don’t have one. I’ll see if they can send someone to talk to you.” She nodded assuredly before peeling out of the room.

“Can I get you anything?” Garcia asked helplessly. He had already been given tea, water, coffee, and a sandwich, but he didn’t want any of it.

Shaking his head numbly, Spencer dragged his hands down his face as he replayed the events of this morning in his head.

He wasn’t even supposed to be working, you were due any day now, but Emily had called him with the case and gave him the choice of working. He was supposed to go with you to the check-up, but you had encouraged him to go save a life.

The woman who had been found this morning had her abdomen crudely cut open and her baby was born via a botched cesarean section, but her baby was too premature and didn’t make it. They were both found in an alley near the hospital by a garbage man. Then, while he and Luke were at the medical examiner’s office, his phone started to ring.

You had been discovered, bleeding out, outside of your obstetrician’s office, and if you hadn’t been so close to a building full of doctors, you probably wouldn’t have made it as far as surgery right now. The fact that you had been brought to surgery should have been enough to give him hope, but he hasn’t been raised to be hopeful, he was raised to be pragmatic. The reality of the situation was that in cases of fetal abduction, the mothers rarely made it out the other side.

He was left with Garcia to keep him company, she stayed as a watchdog, mainly looking through traffic footage on her laptop as she made sure Spencer didn’t go entirely off the rails. “You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” she said offhandedly, begging Spencer to just sit down for a moment.

With a huff, he took a seat next to Penelope, leaning his head back on the taupe drywall, “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“We’re going to wait, we are not going to catastrophize, and we will listen to any and all updates that the doctors give us,” she said determinedly, nodding her head as she did so. “We only know what we know and assuming the worst will just lead to feeling worse.”

Closing his eyes, he agreed, listening to the bustle of the hospital from inside the secluded, makeshift waiting space. He wished he knew more about your status when you came in, there were the crime scene photos – which Penelope was under strict orders not to show him – and a quick mention from a resident about blood loss, but nothing else.

“Dr. Reid?” A new voice said, snapping him out of his stupor as he rose to his feet, staring at the doctor who came in with his scrub cap on, “I’m afraid there isn’t much news. Things are still touch and go. They’re hopeful that they can get the bleeding under control, once they do that, we’ll know more. I’ll come out and let you know, alright?”

With the doctor leaving, Garcia reopened her laptop, “You see? We can’t assume the worst because we just don’t know enough yet.”

“Garcia,” he interrupted, hopeful for just a moment of silence to digest the new information – if you could even call it that.

Nodding succinctly, she returned to her work, “Right, okay.”

With the arrival of JJ, Penelope left to check in at the office, and since a profiler was bound to know more information, he asked JJ for an update. His baby had to be almost three hours old now, and he knew nothing about them.

He was left disappointed, there was no information on the UnSub or the baby, “What’s the point of it anyway?”

“Everyone is working on it, Spence. No one is going to rest until this case is closed,” JJ tried to reassure him.

Spencer wasn’t sure he was ever truly going to rest again, “Where is someone supposed to go with a newborn baby? The umbilical cord has to be still attached.” Statistically, women were more likely to commit cesarean abductions, and they usually did so after the loss of their own child or because they told someone they were pregnant and needed to produce a baby. “No one can tell me anything about my child, JJ, don’t you understand that? Can’t you try to understand how that feels?”

Bracing herself, JJ nodded, “You’re angry, I get it, you-“

“No, you don’t. My wife is bleeding out in surgery, and I have no fucking clue where our baby is. I have never met them. I don’t know if I have a son or a daughter or if they’re alive and you have the nerve to tell me that you ‘get it’?” He peered over at the blonde profiler. You should’ve been the first person to hold your baby, and instead, you might never live to find out what happened to you.

She was silent for a moment, “You’re right. I- I can’t even begin to process what you’re feeling right now, but all we can do is keep working on the case.”

Dropping his head in his hands, Spencer shook his head, “Then go work on the case,” he insisted, “I don’t… I need to be alone right now.”

Just as the four-hour mark approached, the glass door opened again, and David Rossi walked in.

“Are you here to lecture me?” Spencer asked, his voice raspy from crying in the solitude of the room, he wondered if JJ had told everyone how he lashed out at her.

Crossing one leg over the other, Rossi answered, “Nope,” he said, popping the last syllable. “I’m just here to sit and wait, same as you, kid.”

Nodding, Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes as a protection against the fluorescent lights of the hospital, “How did you manage?”

There were some things – life events – that were left unspoken in the BAU. Traumas that people didn’t want uncovered, horrors that the team didn’t need to relive, but Spencer needed answers, and this was the only way he could think to get them. “Manage what?”

“Losing your son,” he answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he kept his eyes closed, wondering if he too would lose a child. Birth and death within the same day.

Clearing his throat, Rossi took a moment before responding, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he was appalled at the question or if he simply wasn’t sure how to respond, “Well, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not for a long time, at least,” he admitted.

Digesting the information, Spencer shifted in his seat, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Everyone just keeps telling me to wait, but…” he chuckled to himself, “Y/N always jokes that if patience is the companion of wisdom, then I have to be the exception.”

He had always been told to wait. Wait for his turn. Wait for the perfect person to show up. He had waited, and he had gotten you, but all of that waiting had led him here. In this beige room where he had signed papers asking doctors to use extraordinary measures to try and save your life.

“Dr. Reid?” One of the doctors from earlier called his name, knocking on the glass door. Instinctively, Spencer stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking at the doctor expectantly, “Oh, please,” the doctor said, “Take a seat.”

Hesitantly, Spencer lowered himself back down into the hospital chair, he couldn’t help but feel like that was a bad sign.

“All things considered, your wife is very, very lucky,” the doctor informed him, “She’s not fully out of the woods yet, but they’re setting her up in recovery right now. I’m just waiting on a message from my colleague, and then I’ll be able to bring you up to see her.”

A flurry of questions flew through his mind at once, “What are you still concerned about?” He asked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.

Nodding, the doctor continued, “Y/N lost a lot of blood in the attack. When you factor in the trauma of having a baby and a four-hour surgery, there’s a lot of healing that has to happen, and right now she doesn’t have the strength for it.” His phone chimed, and Spencer jolted, trying not to get his hopes up if it wasn’t about you, “Come with me,” the doctor said.

Rossi offered to let the rest of the team know and Spencer rambled off a random confirmation as he followed the doctor through the doorway, feeling like he was floating. As they walked through the hospital, Spencer grew more and more anxious.

Your hand was cold. In fact, your hand was so cold that Spencer asked the doctor to turn the volume on your vital monitor up so that he could have the constant reassurance that you were alive.

Blood was being transfused still, he had already forgotten the doctor’s estimate on just how much blood you had lost, but if he had the urge to read through your medical chart, he was sure he could find out. The only problem was, ever since the doctor left, he hadn’t been able to do anything except stare.

Every once in a while, he pinched your index finger, testing the capillary refill time out of his own morbid curiosity while blood was being returned to your body. Agents and officers stood outside of your hospital room in a steady rotation. The BAU wasn’t sure if your life was still in danger, but they weren’t willing to take any risks.

There were countless law enforcement personnel involved in this case now, if not directly investigating the case, they were at least contributing to the search. The Manassas Field Office, DC Metro, the Maryland Police – they were all out there looking. Out the window, he could see news reporters gathering out front to start their afternoon broadcasts.

It had been four hours. Four hours and there was still no word on the baby or the UnSub. The baby would need to eat soon, and Spencer found himself depending on the UnSub to have had the forethought to take care of the newborn.

Every couple of minutes, you would mumble something in your sleep, and he willed you to stay asleep. Selfishly, he wanted you to stay asleep until he knew the baby was safe – until he knew he could have something good to tell you.

Penelope was stationed right outside the door. She likely thought he hadn’t noticed her return, but the clicking of her keyboard gave her away.

Infrequently, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tried not to concern himself with it. Garcia had made contact with your mom, being sure to reach out to your family before any other news hit the airwaves.

He adjusted the way the nasal cannula rested on your face before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles and resting your cold fingers against his cheek, as if his face had the capacity to warm your whole body. Briefly, he wondered if the team would be willing to have a desk agent bring you a blanket from home.

The team would probably find a way to get him a helicopter if he requested it.

Flowers and cards flowed into your hospital room, arriving from people who knew you to people who had seen your story on the news. He had to look away when a small stuffed elephant was delivered by a nurse, knowing that the baby it belonged to was nowhere to be found.

Much to his surprise, he looked away from the stuffed animal just to find you looking back at him. The sorrow in your eyes a staggering reflection of that which could be found in his own. One glance at you and he knew that there was no need for him to break the news to you – you were well aware.

Spencer remained wholly silent as a slew of medical professionals filtered in and out of the room, a cacophony of directives and questions sent your way as tears filled your waterline. He captured your hand in both of his, holding your hand like it was a lifeline to everything he knew as the truth. He was here, you were here, and you were both alive. Tethered to you in the woven web of life, he refused to falter. Not now. Not when you needed him the most.

He answered the questions that you didn’t know the answers to and watched, tight-lipped, as your doctor kept you informed. Dr. Lasher was picking and choosing from your chart, telling you anything pertinent, and leaving out anything that she thought could wait for later.

Once the doctor had cleared through an extensive list of maladies, everyone let you have the room. “Darling,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to adjust the way your hospital gown rested on your shoulder, covering some of the exposed wires.

“There are no leads?” You asked tentatively, the pain in your voice exacerbated by the swelling caused by the breathing tube you’d had during surgery. Your eyes were glassy, and Spencer didn’t know if it was from sorrow or pain or fear. It was a question he was afraid to ask.

He shook his head, “Not yet, but everyone’s looking,” he fed you the same reassurances that had been given to him. The same reassurances that he hadn’t believed.

You moved your hands, laying your palms flat on the sterile white sheets and starting to push yourself up, only to be met with Spencer’s hands guiding you back down to the pillows. “I’ve gotta go,” you mumbled, “I wanna help. Spence, please let me help.” Fresh tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him in desperation.

The way your bottom lip quivered was what broke him, he tilted his head to the side, “You can help just fine from right here, okay?” He looked out into the hallway, wondering which member of the team was around for you to talk to. “I’ll be right back,” he told you, squeezing your hand before retreating to the hallway, never letting you out of his line of sight.

“Hey,” Penelope greeted, the compassion in her voice giving him pause, “How is she?”

Exhausted, terrified, in pain – all applicable at the moment. Spencer thought about answering for a moment before skipping Garcia’s question entirely, “Who’s around for a cognitive?”

You didn’t quite have the energy for a full interview, but you were so adamant about helping that he couldn’t refuse you, not today. “JJ’s one floor up, do you want me to call her for you?”

He thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t handled his last interaction with JJ with the most care, but you needed someone to talk to and it couldn’t be him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Please.”

Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair as he tried to comfort you. In all of the time he’d known you, he’d never need you so defeated.

Not much came out during your cognitive with JJ, either there was a mental block in the way or you hadn’t seen much when you were attacked. Whichever one it was, Spencer was fighting himself internally on whether or not he should be thankful.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured, keeping his voice low as you fought off sleep. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You need to rest.”

You fought sleep with everything you had in you, which wasn’t much anymore. The cognitive interview had gone too long. Your nurse was the one who put her foot down and ended it, even when you wanted to keep going. “It’s not fair,” you cried, slow tears making their way down your cheeks.

Very slowly, Spencer could feel his heart breaking as your exhaustion and desolation worked together to make you as miserable as possible, “I know, lovey. I know,” he assured you as tears filled his eyes.

Glassy eyes looked up at him, “I just wanted to be a mom,” you whispered, your speech slurred with sleep.

Letting his own tears fall to the white sheets of your hospital bed, Spencer nodded, “You are a mom.”

He didn’t add anything. He didn’t have it in him to make a grandiose speech about how you would always be your baby’s mother, and, luckily, he didn’t need to. Your eyes finally fell shut, final tears falling from your face as Spencer found himself grateful that sleep finally took you.

Never leaving your side, Spencer pulled the chair back up next to you, resting his chin on your bed's armrest and watching you sleep. Very slowly, color was beginning to return to your face, yet you still looked so different from when he had left the house that morning.

Unsure how long it had been, Spencer shot up straight when Penelope came rushing to the doorway, placing a finger to his lips, he nodded toward your sleeping form. Even so, the technical analyst waved him over.

Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and walked around your bed to Penelope, “What is it?”

Tears filled the blonde’s eyes as she looked up at him, she put both of her hands on his upper arms and cried, “They found your baby. It- they’re pulling up to the ambulance bay right now.”

Spencer’s lips parted in shock, having fully prepared himself for the day to end in undeniable heartbreak. “Are- is the baby okay?”

Penelope nodded, “They’re going up to the NICU right now to get checked out but apparently the EMTs said the baby looks completely unharmed.”

Turning to look at you, still asleep on the bed, Spencer gave Penelope a quick embrace before returning to your bedside, “Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to wake you up from sleep that you still needed. “Honey,” he said, gently cupping your cheek with his hands as your eyes fluttered open.

You hummed groggily, squinting up at him under the fluorescence of the hospital.

“The baby’s here,” he murmured to you, making sure you didn’t jump up at his words. “They’re headed up to the NICU for a quick check, and-“

“Go,” you cut him off, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Please go hold them, Spence,” you cried, voice rough with sleep.

His shoulders slouched forward slightly, looking between you and Penelope in the doorway, “I’ll stay here,” Penelope offered immediately. “You go, I’ll stay.”

You nodded up at him, closing your eyes as he bent forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “I love you,” you breathed, placing a hand on your chest as if it would slow your racing heart.

“I love you too,” he responded before stepping out of the hospital room, following the directions that Penelope had given him in order to get up to the NICU.

Adrenaline made his stomach churn as he approached the NICU, wondering what he’d say to the people there until someone recognized him as The Dad. He still had to scrub his hands, but they let him through until he saw the bassinet. Even more, he saw the tiny baby kicking its legs inside of the acrylic container.

Emily stood by on high alert, ready to pounce on anyone who even looked at the baby funny, and Spencer just couldn’t stop staring. “Come here,” one of the NICU nurses said to him, obviously having been brought up to speed on the situation. With a smile on her face, she told him, “It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” he breathed, walking right up to the side of the bassinet.

The nurse nodded and adjusted the hat on her head, just slightly too big for the newborn’s head, “If you want, we can get you set up in a chair here, and you can give her a bottle.”

“Please,” he responded, earning another smile from the nurse, who had him take the crying baby in his arms before handing him the prepared bottle.

It broke his heart to watch how quickly she took to the bottle; he still wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything until this. He knew the nipple wouldn’t let her take in too much at a time, but in his subconscious, he was still worried about it being too much for her.

He rocked gently, “Hi, honey,” he cooed down at her.

“She’s a good eater,” the nurse observes, writing something down on a piece of paper. “We’ll keep an eye on her for just a little while, but we know how badly she needs to get down to her mama.”

Setting the now empty bottle down, Spencer looked up at the nurse, “Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded at his concern, “She’s on the small size, but she’s full term. Of course, not everything is going to be noticeable right away, but we did a full newborn exam on her and all of the tests say she’s a perfectly healthy baby.” She looked on as Spencer gently cupped the baby’s head, “Does she have a name?”

You and Spencer had made a deal, he would pick a boy’s name, and you would pick a girl’s name. Smiling softly, he murmured her name to her for the first time, “Genevieve,” he answered. A big name for such a small baby, maybe, but it was the name you had chosen.

He started making his way back down to you, feeling like he was floating through the taupe hallways of the hospital before he finally made it back to your room. Penelope excused herself when he emerged in the hallway.

“Spence,” you whispered, looking up at him with hope in your eyes for the first time since you had woken up after surgery.

Smiling at you, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Five pounds and fifteen ounces. Seventeen and a half inches long. Perfectly healthy.” He glanced behind him as he heard the wheels of the bassinet coming toward your room, turning back to watch your reaction as you saw your baby for the first time.

He was glad for his eidetic memory, he’d never want to forget the way your face lit up with recognition, “Oh, a girl.”

With the baby settled on your chest, there was nothing better for the two of you to do than watch her sleep. Every once in a while, she’d coo or squawk and immediately capture your every attention all over again. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked you. The blood transfusions had been completed, leaving you on a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, fluids, and lots of pain medication – two of which prevented you from breastfeeding. Although, because of her size and traumatic birth, the NICU doctor suggested that some formula would help her grow properly.

You hummed contentedly, “Tired. I hurt just about everywhere,” you admitted, not taking your eyes off of your newborn. “I’m so… just grateful,” you whispered, “Is that odd?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean.” For as terrible and horrifying as the entire ordeal was, it could’ve been much worse. He almost lost both of his girls in one day.

“Does the team want to meet her?” You asked, worried about entertaining guests with the baby.

Spencer chuckled softly, keeping his index finger pointed within Genevieve’s reach, testing her palmar reflex, “I’m sure they do, but we’ll wait and see how you feel tomorrow and revisit. Okay?”

Your head bobbed in confirmation, watching as your daughter very slowly woke up, “Hi, Vie,” you greeted her quietly, gently rubbing her back with your fingertips. You didn’t have the strength to fully hold her, but she was more than happy to just lay on you, “Sweet, sleepy girl.”

“Do you want me to take her, and you can get some sleep?” Spencer offered, noticing the way you were trying to hide a yawn from him. “We aren’t going anywhere, we’ll stay right here in this chair,” he reassured you based on the apprehensive look you were giving him.

Slowly, you nodded, helping as best you could and pouting in sympathy when Genevieve – Vie – cried out at the sensation of being moved from her warm spot on her mother’s chest to the warm spot in her father’s arms. Thankfully, the newborn calmed down just as soon as Spencer settled her in his arms, “Don’t go,” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut as you allowed sleep to wash over you.

He hummed, “We won’t,” he muttered in response.

Sleep took you with little resistance, leaving him with Genevieve in the silence of the hospital room – save for all of the machines that you were still hooked up to.

She wouldn’t be up for much longer herself – newborns spent most of their day sleeping – so Spencer took his opportunity to watch her eyes wander around the hospital room. “You can go back to sleep too, little love. I’ll watch over the both of you,” he spoke to her in a reverent tone and adjusted the hat on her head. “I’ll keep you safe, Vie. No harm will come to you, not as long as I’m your dad.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid dilf agenda #written by margot

815 notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 2 days

Text

Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.

Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.

"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."

He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."

Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.

It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--

"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"

"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.

"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."

His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."

Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"

"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.

"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"

And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--

"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."

"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."

"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."

"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"

Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."

"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."

"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."

"So, nothing's changed between you?"

"Not at all."

"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.

"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--

"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"

He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--

"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."

"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.

"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."

"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."

"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"

"Tension? Distrust?"

"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."

"And it eroded the relationship."

"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.

"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"

"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.

"You talked about it."

"Yes. Extensively."

"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."

"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.

"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"

The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.

"Eddie?"

"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"

"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."

"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"

"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."

"Friends?"

"Isn't that implied?"

"After that music video, I don't think so."

Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."

"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"

"Like I said, friends."

"Do you want it to be more than that?"

"Eddie's really important to me."

"Is that all?"

"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."

"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."

He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."

"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"

"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."

"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."

"We were just having a little fun."

"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"

It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.

"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."

"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"

His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."

"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"

"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."

"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"

"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."

"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"

"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."

---

He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.

"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.

"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.

"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.

"Of course."

"And you--"

"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."

Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

"You sure? All my mess--"

"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #angst #secret relationship #influencer steve harrington #musician eddie munson #referenced cheating but it's jonathan and nancy #celebrity interview #this is another ficlet inspired by something that happened on real housewives #iykyk #yes murray is andy cohen #and yes this is a stand-in for wwhl #what if steve is a momtok influencer though #this might be part of a longer thing soon!

585 notes · View notes

sacredsorceress · 2 days

Text

logan howlett x f!reader / inbox

there is just something about logan being a gentleman.

sure he's the definition of rough around the edges and his patience is very thin with most people, but i just know that when he found his woman, he'd be the definition of chivalrous. he's old school: opening the door for you, giving you his jacket when there's even a slight breeze... and he won't mention any of it. he'll do it all wordlessly as if its second nature. and if you do point it out to him he'll just make a snarky comment in return or say nothing, instead wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to his side because what is there to say? of course he takes care of you. he considers himself damn lucky to be the one to do so.

if some guy was rude to you, or god forbid, hit on you? he'd be on them in seconds, grabbing their shirt and asking them if that's how they think they should be treating a lady. (it's a rhetorical question and a warning. if they give the wrong answer? lets say you'll be cleaning blood off his shirt that night).

on nights where he drives the two of you home, he'll be constantly glancing at the passenger seat, rubbing circles onto your thighs. and if some asshole ran a red, forcing logan to slam on his breaks, his first instinct would be to fling his arm over you, holding you back against the seat. when you wake up from the commotion he'd just run his thumb against your temple and tell you in a hushed voice that "it was nothing, sweetheart. go back to sleep."

if someone on the team brought you up in a negative manner when you weren't there (rare, it would probably just be scott trying to get a rise out of logan) he'd turn red: "don't you talk about her" and "keep her name out of your goddamn mouth". because who the fuck thinks they can talk about his girl??

he's not big on PDA but that doesn't mean he's not touchy. anytime you'd walk up the stairs he'd let you use his arm as your own personal railing. before he left for work in the morning, no matter how late he was, he'd make sure to kiss you on the forehead before he left. and if he had a job where he'd have to wake up at the crack of dawn? he'd make sure to get out of bed as quietly as ever and if you so much as stirred, he'd brush your hair back with a "shhh" and a kiss before he got ready for his long day. but it would be okay because he could get through anything knowing he'd be coming home to you at the end of the day.

anyway as rough as logan can be, he's obsessed with his partner and wants to do nothing more than take care of them. and that my friends makes logan the ultimate gentleman.

a/n: just a little blurb because i am obsessed with this idea. my inbox is open if anyone wants to share more thoughts on logan cause ahhh!!

#logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine blurb #wolverine fluff #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett blurb #x men fanfiction

534 notes · View notes

onlyhereforthestories · 1 day

Text

Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.

It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.

Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.

You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.

“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.

“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.

“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.

“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”

After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.

After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.

You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.

“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.

“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.

“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.

“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.

“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.

After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.

An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.

“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.

“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.

You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.

You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.

Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.

Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.

“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.

“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.

“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.

As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.

They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.

You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.

“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.

You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.

You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.

You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.

“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.

“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”

“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”

Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.

“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.

“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”

Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.

“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”

Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.

“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”

You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.

“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.

As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.

Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.

You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.

The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.

Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.

You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.

After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.

Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.

Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.

You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.

Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.

Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?

You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.

As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.

You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.

She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.

What if you don’t even want her around anymore?

The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.

She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.

What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?

Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.

She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.

In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.

That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.

When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.

What if you don’t want her here?

She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.

I shouldn’t have come.

She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.

But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.

What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?

She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.

She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?

Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.

Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.

It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.

The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?

You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.

Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.

Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.

"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.

"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"

There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.

"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.

"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."

You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."

Another beat of quiet passes.

"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.

"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.

She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"

You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."

The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.

Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.

"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.

As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.

Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.

"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.

"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.

She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."

Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.

You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.

"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."

You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.

The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.

When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.

You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”

You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.

“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.

She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.

You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.

“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.

“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”

She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”

You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”

Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”

You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.

“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”

You take a second to think about what you want to say next. Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.

You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.

“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”

Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”

You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.

“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.

Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.

After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.

“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.

Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.

“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”

She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.

At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.

Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.

Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.

When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.

“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.

“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.

She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.

There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fic #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

375 notes · View notes

jinwoosbabyboo · 3 days

Note

So, you did a post of the boys being jealous, but I was wondering how would you rank each guy from most jealous to least jealous/possessive? Also, what kind of jealous are they.

P.S. Xavier's "It's nothing personal" still cracks me up. You're hilarious.

Most to Least Jealous

Who's the most to least jealous among the four of them? Here's what I think.

A/N: had to do a little switcher-roo w/ Zayne & Sylus because Zayne definitely gets more jealous than Sylus & it’s adorable

Xavier

Xavier without a doubt is taking first place here. This man was jealous when Jeremiah had his arm around MCs shoulder. He gets upset anytime MC compliments Lumiere. Xavier PLEASE Lumiere IS YOU.

Don't get me wrong I understand the notion of "He wants MC to love him for him not his Lumiere alter-ego" I get that. It's sweet that he's "Xavier .... Just Xavier" with MC.

Aside from him being jealous of himself though even in his myth he gets jealous when Jeremiah touches her or she speaks about Jeremiah he even blew in her eye because she "had a hooligan in her eye" referring to Jeremiah. He wants to be the only person in her eyes, mind, and heart.

Rafayel

Rafayel is jealous, but he's more clingy/needy than jealous (and I love that) He doesn't like being ignored by MC and gets antsy and dramatic when she takes too long to respond.

He wants all of MCs attention at all hours of the day. He wants to have her attention 24/7, but realistically he knows that can't happen so he just wants as much as possible.

Zayne

Zayne does indeed get jealous he’s not as jealous as Xav or as dramatic and pouty as Raf but he gets jealous. He isn’t as expressive with his jealousy but he still has a childlike jealousy vibe. He’s so smitten with MC he just wants all her affection he’s touch starved for heavens sake. He's secure within himself, but he finds the world itself boring and MCs vivacity makes his life interesting. So of course he gets jealous when something else is stealing his girls attention.

Also I imagine him being a little possessive when it comes to doing something for you because that’s how he shows his love. His actions are louder than his words.

Sylus

Sylus is extremely secure in himself he doesn't get jealous. At least that's probably what he tells himself. This man isn't "im gonna pout" jealous he's more of flash/zing of jealousy before setting himself straight like "Wait a minute ... she's mine ... I'm the whole loaf the rest of you are the breadcrumbs" and he's back to his confident self-assured sexy self.

If you want to see him get jealous change his pet name for you and when he asks "Am I the only one to call you that?" if you choose the "You should be" answer he's like "Who else is there? that doesn't matter you have me now" or something like that.

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads zayne #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads sylus #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #nikaaaajusttalkin #nikaaaaimagine

373 notes · View notes

hiraethwrote · 2 days

Text

loner megumi x popular reader masterlist cw: f!reader, aged up characters, college au, fluff, slight alcohol mention, no use of y/n word count: 1k

There was an unspoken rule in your relationship — passenger princess gets to choose the music. It just so happened that you were the princess 90% of the time. You were more than capable of driving, you just preferred being able to lay your head back, scroll your phone meaninglessly and sing blissfully along to the music.

And though you never said it out loud, you also just preferred your own music — you and Megumi had vastly different preferences in what you listened to. It wasn’t that he had bad taste in music or anything, but his playlist just did not align with the vibes you wanted when on the road.

It mostly consisted of obscure artists who had less than 100 000 monthly listeners or some indie band that you always thought fit best for simply chilling on late summer evenings… Weezer for example, which was someone Megumi had introduced you to.

So while your upbeat music bounced within the car, you subtly glanced over at him to see if there was any frustration resting on his features. If he was fed up with your music, then he did a terrific job of hiding it.

But once every blue moon, Yuji managed to force convince Megumi to join him for a few drinks — with a little help from you, of course.

“Go have fun, babe, and I’ll pick you up when they’re heading out.” He gave you a sad look, hoping for sympathy while he played with your fingers. After a few moments of deliberation, his head slowly started to nod, though he wasn’t too excited about it. He would rather just stay in with you, but you thought it did him good to hang out with someone who wasn’t you.

Three hours later, you were stood outside Yuji’s dormitory complex, watching as Megumi hurried out of the building with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Once inside the car, he instantly leaned towards you to receive the mandatory kiss whenever you reunited.

“Have fun?” You asked, slowly backing out of the driveway while he pulled out his phone to connect it to the car stereo.

“‘S alright,” he sighed, attention locked on his phone.

“They were going out, right?”

“Yeah, they tried to convince me to ask you to drive.”

“Oh, I could have given them a ride-“

“No, you couldn’t,” he pouted. Turning to look at him, his face was still angled downwards, but the bright light from his phone screen revealed how his cheeks were slowly turning red. You only chucked, amused — but also flattered — of his shy possessiveness.

The music started to play, and your eyebrows narrowed in confusion when you recognised the melody. This wasn’t something from Megumi’s playlist… this was one of the songs you used to put on.

“I didn’t know you liked this song,” you smiled.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I like the lyrics.”

Despite being the driver, you got to indulge in your traditional performance, singing along to the words you knew so well. Your head fell back against the headrest, a small satisfied hum leaving you as the song came to an end.

However, the next song was also one you recognised. Your confused expression returned, turning to look at your boyfriend again, who was simply staring out the window, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

And when the fifth song in a row was one of yours, you had to ask “is this my playlist?”

“No.” Short, determined, no signs of a lie anywhere in his answer.

“These are songs I usually play.”

“So? It isn’t your playlist.”

The entirety of the drive back to his place was filled with songs you would usually play. Though they all seemed to fall within the calmer spectrum of your music, it was definitely still your music.

The car turned silent when you shut off the engine, looking over to see Megumi resting his head against the glass, steady breathing revealing he had fallen asleep. All the socialising mixed with the few drinks in his system, he was probably exhausted.

You reached over to wake him up, hand stopping right as you were about to touch his arm, when his unlocked phone caught your eye — Spotify on display to reveal the playlist titled ‘her songs I actually like’.

“Cheeky bastard,” you whispered to yourself, causing his eyes to slowly flutter open.

“Hmm?” He breathed quietly, rubbing his eyes before turning to meet your giddy face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “What?” He mumbled in a tired voice.

“You’re a sap!” You teased.

His eyebrows pinched closer, trying to piece together what you were talking about. “Are we home?”

“Don’t change the topic, mister. You’re secretly a romantic!”

His attention flicked to his bright screen, seeing the playlist he had curated in your honour, a groan slipping out of him immediately. “You weren’t supposed to see.”

“Why? It’s cute!”

“Exactly, it’s gonna make you insufferable.”

It drew out an offended scoff from you as you shoved his arm. “Whatever, you’re the one who made me a playlist.”

“This is what I was talking about,” he groaned again, hurrying out of the car.

“Wait up,” you laughed, rushing out of the car, instantly tugging at his arm when you caught up with him. “I have a few questions about it.”

“I am sure you do.”

“So, how many songs are on it?”

“Quite a few.”

“That’s not a number.”

“A lot.”

“Are there songs of mine you hate?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Can you show me those?”

“If you really want me to.”

Well into the night, the two of you laid in his bed, talking about music. He told you which songs of yours he could not stand, causing you to laugh uncontrollably when he tried to hum the melody and failing terribly, seeing as he had not been bothered to learn the titles of the ones he hated.

Then he played you his favourites, and explained why — how you seemed to always enjoy those the most when singing along, cheeks strained because you were smiling so much.

And in return, you told him which of his songs you liked — which ones of his you found yourself tapping your foot along to, some of your opinions genuinely surprising him.

Eventually, you both fell asleep with the playlist on in the background.

tags (taglist is open)

@sad-darksoul ﾉ @nyahctrl ﾉ @ssetsuka ﾉ @aceakariii ﾉ @chxlexauriana

@ps-forgetmenot ﾉ @thejujvtsupost ﾉ @acowboykisser ﾉ @rixo-19

@aestheticallyvini ﾉ @iheartlinds ﾉ @rory-cakes ﾉ @tiffanyandrson

@madaqueue ﾉ @lemonnotade ﾉ @six-eyed-samurai ﾉ @gdamnackerman

@hiraethwa

a/n

surprise post. just a cute lil something <3 he is so casually cute, the small things yk

266 notes · View notes

monstersflashlight · 2 days

Text

Patreon commission for Elise

Request: Male Boss Minotaur x Fem Skinny Friend x Fem Chubby Reader: So basically the Reader and her Friend both like their Boss but the Reader doesn’t think that their Boss likes them. But what the Reader doesn’t know is that both the Boss and her Friend want her (and their Boss wants both of them). Sorry this is kinda short but this is the idea I hope this is okay. 😁

Are you stupid?

Minotaur x fem!human x chubby fem!reader || body worship, oral sex, sharing is caring, MFF threesome, spanking (lowkey), soft sex || tw: internalized fatphobia

“I want to have dinner with you,” your boss said as he approached the table where you and your bestie were eating lunch. You looked directly at her, obviously he liked her, why wouldn’t he? She was skinny and pretty and everything any human or monster would like (even you). Of course he would ask her out. You tried not to be hurt about it, you both liked him, and he made his choice (the obvious choice, you thought).

“Okay, when?” Your friend instantly asked, hiding her excitement and surprise as if it meant nothing that the hottest and most amazing minotaur just asked her out. But you knew her better, you knew the tilt on her eyebrow meant she was surprised. You knew her better than you knew yourself.

“Tonight. Wear something casual,” he told her. “And you…” He looked straight at you when he said it: “Wear something tight.” You gaped at him, confused. What the fuck did he mean?

“What? Me?” You asked. And then it clicked, he wanted you there so it wouldn’t be weird when he finally asked her out and they made out, you were the buffer. It made sense, but why would he ask you to wear something tight?

“Yes,” he answered curtly and left, leaving you looking at his back with a gaping mouth. What the fuck just happened?

“Yas girl, we just got ourselves a hot date!” Your friend rose her hand to high five you, and you did without thinking, not fully processing what just happened.

You laughed at her, dark thoughts crossing your mind. “You got yourself a date, I’m just the buffer,” you clarified.

Your best friend looked at you like you were stupid. “What the fuck are you saying? He has the hots for you,” she sounded so sure that you almost believed her. Almost.

“No he doesn’t. He likes you, and I get it, you are… perfect.” Your soft tone let out a lot of truths that you weren’t ready to release out in the wild yet.

Again with the incredulous eyes as she almost spit out: “What? Are you insane? You are funny and all soft and pretty and have the greatest tits in the universe.” You looked at her confused, what the fuck was she talking about?

“I- What?” You asked, completely thrown back by her words. Did she really think that about you?

“We got ourselves a date, both of us. Stop arguing,” she added as she got up and left you there, even more confused than before.

You couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the day, anticipation and dread building inside of you at the same time.

You were back at home (you shared a house to save some money on rent) when she entered your room. “Put this on,” she ordered, giving you a piece of fabric that probably wouldn’t cover your ass cheeks.

You looked at her with skepticism, but you put it on just to shut her up. It fitted you like a second skin, your tummy and ass squeezed with the fabric. Your boobs looked fantastic, though, but it wasn’t you. You looked at the mirror and almost didn’t recognize yourself in that kind of outfit. You couldn’t bend down without exposing your whole pussy and ass, it was that short. And you… kind of liked it.

“I can’t go out like this!” You told her exiting the bathroom, trying to pull down the hem but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover you anymore.

She gaped at you, her eyes big as plates. “You look… You look phenomenal,” she let out after a pause, licking her lips as she checked you out slowly. “Come here,” she asked, and you complied, still self-conscious about all the rolls the dress showed. “You look perfect, he’s going to lose his mind the same way I just did.” She grabbed you by the waist and plastered her body to yours, her face millimeters away from yours.

You looked at her with a tiny smile, thinking she was just playing. “What are you doing?” Your tone was amused.

“I’m kissing you senseless so you stop thinking you aren’t the hottest girl in the whole world,” she said before she closed the distance and attacked your mouth with desperation.

You were shocked for a total of two seconds before you were responding the kiss with equal fervor and need. She parted and squeezed your ass, the tip of her fingers caressing the lower part of your ass cheek, the dress was definitely way too short.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, dizzy.

“Because I’m tired of pretending I’m not in love with you and want to bury my face between your tits until I suffocate,” she let out. You stared at her, gaping like a fish and probably looking stupid, but you couldn’t stop.

“I- I…” You didn’t know what to say. “I love you, too,” you finally let out, baring your heart to her and feeling like a thousand kilos lifted from your chest.

“Now come on, let’s blow his mind so we can be a power thruple,” she joked to reduce the tension in the air. But you didn’t laugh.

“He wants only you either way, he only invited me because I was there and it would have been weird otherwise,” you said with a self-depreciating laugh.

She turned around and looked at you with anger flaring in her eyes: “Are you stupid? Do you like being stupid?” She asked, her tone accusing.

“I only tell the facts.” You were sure of it, there was no way your hot as hell best friend just kissed you because she liked you AND your hot minotaur boss also liked you, you couldn’t be that lucky, not a chance in hell.

“Okay, dummy, if he gapes at you like a fish when he sees you in that outfit I get to spank your ass tonight,” she threatened and you shivered. A whole body shiver.

How did she know you were into spanking? You never discussed your sex life with her… Or maybe you did when you were drunk at the last Christmas party. Shit, you definitely did tell her that. Oh goddess, you were going to die of embarrassment.

“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, your face red as a tomato at that point.

“If he doesn’t, you get to tell me I told you so.” You did love to tell her that when you were right.

“Deal.” You were going to win for sure.

But she was right, and you fucking lost.

He not only gaped at you, but as soon as you entered, he reached to grab your waist and pulled you to his body to devour your mouth. As your friend (girlfriend?) cheered and patted you in the back, his roaming hands groped your ass until your panties were wet and uncomfortable, and your heart was about to explode from your chest. He pulled back and grabbed your friend in the same way, kissing her senseless until she was groaning and you were dripping wet just looking at them.

He was breathing hard when you three pulled apart. “You both look fantastic, I’ve been waiting to do that since you were hired,” he confessed in a low tone.

“But you… You are the boss,” you told him, dizzy from arousal and confusion. Your brain didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Was that really happening? Good goddess, were you dreaming? Was all that a dream? Were you in an accident?

He didn’t even blink before saying: “Which means we all should visit the HR department tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” You asked, still not knowing what was happening.

“Because you two are now mine,” his growl made you shiver as you felt your girlfriend’s hand on your leg, comforting you.

Oh shit, you just got yourself a boyfriend AND a girlfriend, what the fuck?

You three joked and had fun until midnight, when he, being the gentle minotaur he was, walked you two to your shared apartment and kissed you goodbye. It was the hottest and most decadent kiss you ever received, and when he kissed your best friend you whimpered. She chuckled and grabbed your neck, devouring your mouth, too. Good goddess you loved when she got all controlling like that.

“You,” he pointed your minotaur boss (boyfriend?), “need to go home. And I, need to spank her ass because I won a bet.” She pulled the back of your dress up, exposing your ass to the night and groping you until you groaned. She smirked at you as your boss groaned like it pained him.

“Don’t do this to me, now I will have to jerk off twice before going to bed,” he whined, readjusting what looked like a huge erection in his pants.

“Have fun with your hand, big guy. We’ll see you tomorrow and if everything goes well… You might get lucky and get to spank her ass, too.” The fact that she was offering that without even considering you about it shouldn’t be hot, but you couldn’t contain the groan that escaped your mouth.

“Oh goddess, I might have to do it three times… You two are going to kill me,” he lamented without any sadness behind it, kissing your forehead and hers and going back to his car.

You two watched him go, and when you were safely back inside, you felt a hand squeezing your ass in a very naughty way. She guided you to your bedroom and spanked you until you cried, and then fucked you with your favorite dildo until you came all over yourself, your poor sheets not making it. You had to sleep with her as she complained jokingly. But it was her fault, after all.

The morning after, everything felt happier and brighter, and when you two had breakfast in comfortable silence you couldn’t avoid having horny thoughts about your girlfriend and boss going at it over the counter. She winked at you like she knew what you were thinking, and slapped your tender ass as you walked to the car. You whimpered as she laughed, you never felt more desired.

Your boss was waiting at the door of the HR department, looking handsome as hell as you walked to him. He looked like he wanted to kiss you senseless again, but he refrained and opened the door so you two could go first. You had to sign some papers about not suing the company and all that law stuff, and when everything was set, he grabbed your waist and bent you back, kissing you like in the movies and leaving you breathless. He did the same with your girlfriend (now shared girlfriend), and walked out saying he had some calls to make but he would meet you two later.

You walked to your desk in a daze and the work tasks seemed impossible for a long while.

“We have a meeting in five minutes,” your girlfriend said as she stopped next to your desk about an hour later.

“We have?” You looked at her panicked, you didn’t have any meeting in your calendar. You didn’t prepare. What was the meeting even about?

“Yes. Move your pretty ass, come on.” You were still panicking when she dragged you all the way to the meeting room, where your boss was already sitting on his big chair, legs far apart and cock out, slowly stroking himself. You almost swallowed your tongue.

“Wha- what are we doing here?” You asked, your panties already wet just seeing his huge juicy cock disappearing in his fist. It was the most erotic sight you’ve ever seen, you wanted to fall to your knees and swallow him to the root (which was very hopeful because you probably couldn’t even get half of him in your mouth without choking).

“I heard that my girlfriend didn’t think I was into her, so I decided we needed a team meeting to rectify that,” your boss-boyfriend explained, his hand working non-stop over his shaft.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Get naked and bend over the table. Now,” your girlfriend ordered and you looked between the two.

“What?” You couldn’t comprehend anything. Did they talk about you? Did your girlfriend told him that? You felt your face getting redder and redder.

“Now, darling,” he repeated in a softer tone.

You complied, still confused about what was happening. When you were face down on the table, you heard them whispering behind you, not sure about what they were saying. Soon after you felt rough hands caressing your sides and your ass, such a soft touch that you shivered. Two softer hands joined, touching you everywhere. It was like a combined massage and you were rapidly losing your mind.

A hand pushed your legs apart, and a tongue found your center. You wanted to look over your shoulder and see who it was, but they didn’t let you, a hand in your back pressing you against the table. The tongue was replaced with another, and then both of them were licking your pussy in tandem, worshiping you as they groaned. Their hands were groping your ass and tummy, you could feel them everywhere.

“Please…” You begged, almost there but not quite. They were playing with you, getting you almost to orgasm and backing down. You were desperate.

“I know darling, I know… Just let go.” Your minotaur said, a finger entering your pussy slowly and tenderly. You groaned again, and let yourself surrender to pleasure.

They were everywhere, they surrounded your body with caresses and kisses, hands roaming everywhere as you laid there, unable to move as they worshiped your body. It was the softest and most intense experience of your life. The orgasm kept building, slowly and surely, and by the time you were about to come, a harsh hand landed on your ass, making you cry out as you fell apart under their attention.

You were still panting when your girlfriend whispered against your ear: “You did great.” She kissed your cheek and caressed your hair softly.

“Such a good girl for us,” your boyfriend added, kissing your forehead.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you responded, half joking, half telling the truth.

“Good thing my penthouse is right at the top of the building,” your boyfriend said, taking your body off the table like you weighted nothing. You were about to protest that you were too heavy when he talked again: “If you say you are too big, I’m going to spank you until you can’t sit in a week,” he threatened.

“Don’t tempt her, she’s a good girl, but she loves to be a good slut, too.” You blushed hard, hiding your face against your boss’ neck as they both laughed.

“Let’s go to my house so we can finish what we started,” his tone was rough and deep, like the sea at night.

“What?” You asked, as the same time your girlfriend said: “What do you mean?”

“Oh, darling, if you think you aren’t going to be full of cum when I’m done with you, you are heavily mistaken. And that goes for both of you,” he added, bending down to kiss your girlfriend’s open mouth.

307 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 2 days

Text

Aim for the Sky Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After weeks of looking forward to a quiet day with you and Rose, Bradley almost messes up his own Father's Day celebration. He's lucky you're quick to forgive him. Every day with his daughter is a collection of moments he wants to commit to memory. Every day with you makes him fall more in love.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, blowjob, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Do you have any big plans for Sunday? For Bradley's first Father's Day?"

You looked up from your computer when you realized Cat was talking to you. Truthfully, you did have plans, but they weren't big at all. Your husband just kept telling you that all he wanted was to spend the day with just the three of you.

"Isn't it kind of Jake's first Father's Day, too?" you countered with a grin. When Cat sputtered instead of actually answering, you felt like you'd won this wrong of proverbial chess against a master. "It's okay... you don't have to admit it out loud, but I just know Jake is exceeding all of your expectations."

She dropped down into the seat next to you and leaned in like she was afraid someone else might be listening. "He took Jer to the park with Bradley and Rose the other evening."

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "I needed to clean my house, so I kicked Bradley out and told him to call his bestie, Jake."

Cat looked a little panicked now. "No, you don't understand. I can trust him to take care of Jeremiah."

"Yeah... that's good, right?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "When I moved to California, it was my intention to never ever get involved with a man again. Just me and Jer. And then when he went away to college, I was going to start collecting exotic pets or something."

You tried not to laugh. "Yeah, Jake kind of ruined that agenda for you, huh?" She buried her face in her hands, and to your surprise, she started crying. You glanced around the lab, but Macy wasn't paying any attention as you put your arm around Cat's shoulders. You were very confused as you whispered, "Are you okay?"

Cat's dark eyes were wet with tears as she met your gaze while somehow shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Her voice was raspy and uneven as she said, "He bought an engagement ring."

"Jake proposed?" you gasped, ready to jump out of your seat. You knew for a fact he wanted to, but he kept saying he didn't think the time was exactly right yet.

"No. I found the ring. He's terrible at hiding things."

You sat quietly for a minute while she worked at getting herself under control, but then more questions started to formulate in your mind. "I know this isn't where you saw yourself, Cat. I know trusting Jake after leaving your ex is something you've struggled with, but if you love him, then what's holding you back?"

Her fingertips were pressed to her lips, and her hand was shaking. You weren't sure she had even heard your question as she stared off into space and said, "I can't even accurately describe it, because it was so pretty. The diamond was huge. Absolutely enormous. Obviously expensive." She paused and pulled away from you, opening her computer like she didn't just let herself fall apart on your shoulder. "And I have nothing to offer except a child that isn't biologically his and a crippling amount of debt that I'll probably never see the end of." When you opened your mouth to respond, she slammed her computer shut again and said, "And now I'm late to meet with Bickel," before rushing out of the lab.

You stared at the door for a few seconds before you took your phone out and started to draft up a text for Cat. You didn't see her again for the rest of the day, and you didn't send the text until you got home with Bradley and Rose. But you meant every word of it.

You're tenacious and strong, and that's worth a lot more than money. You're the kind of person someone would want to buy a big diamond for.

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

"Why is everything so expensive?" Bradley muttered to himself. "Holy hell."

He was trying to plan out the few days he would have alone with you when your parents came out again for Independence Day. Going back to the oceanfront boutique hotel in La Jolla where you and he had celebrated his birthday two years ago was going to cost a fortune over the holiday.

"Rose isn't going to need money for college anyway," he mused, shrugging at his phone before charging the room to his credit card for three nights. His daughter was going to be a genius. She was already so strong, trying her best to roll over and getting better at holding her head up without support. Suddenly he needed to see her.

Bradley tossed his phone aside and headed for the nursery where you were feeding Rose in the glider chair. When you looked up at him expectantly, he said, "I missed you."

Your gaze was soft as he sat down on the floor next to your feet. "We were with you ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago? No wonder I was getting so lonely," he whispered, reaching out to run his finger along the back of Rose's hand. "Hey, Nugget."

She paused, lips pursed, before she continued eating. It was unreal how adorable she was. Bradley could look at his daughter all day long and never grow tired. He could look at your tits dripping milk all day long, too.

"Let me burp her," he said, making grabby hands as soon as she started to slow down. "It's my favorite."

You handed Rose, who was already dressed in her sleeper, to him, kissing him on the cheek as you stood. "Should I just keep these out for you?" The way you gestured at your breasts left a smile on his face.

"Please. I would very much enjoy it if you did."

You stretched your arms over your head and said, "I'll meet you either in the shower or in bed." Then you were gone, and he was excited to burp the baby and then do whatever you let him do to you.

"Let's see if we can get a nice, big burp out of you so you'll sleep for a few hours," he muttered, pulling one of the many storybooks down from the shelf from his spot on the floor. He'd read every book in the room to her multiple times already, and he couldn't wait until she started to have favorites. Tonight he read about a dragon while he patted and rubbed her back, pausing every page or two to kiss her soft cheek.

She was yawning by the last page of the book, and she did indeed burp for him. When he set her gently in her crib, Bradley whispered, "I can't believe I get to be your dad." He stood there, leaning on the side of the crib until he was certain she was asleep, then he headed for his own bedroom, unzipping his pants along the way.

Bradley found you naked in bed, fresh from the shower and rubbing lotion all over your legs. It was such a mundane yet intimate thing for him to watch, and you didn't realize he was in the doorway yet. "Get in bed," you told Tramp, nodding toward the fluffy mat he slept on next to the bathroom door. "You can't play with Rosie any more tonight. I'm sorry, but she needs to go to sleep after Daddy finishes reading to her."

"I'm finished reading to her."

Your gaze met his as your palms went gliding up your thighs, and you smiled a little shyly at him. Then you reached for the sheet like you were going to try to cover yourself, and he headed for the bed.

"Please don't, Baby Girl," he whispered. "I was really enjoying that view."

You paused and let your eyes drift down his body. "Get undressed and come here."

He did not need you to ask him twice. Bradley yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside followed by his tee shirt and his boxer briefs. You giggled when he climbed into bed in just his socks and hovered above you like he was going to do push ups with his hands planted next to your shoulders.

When he lowered himself down to give you a kiss, you raked your fingers through his hair. He knew there was no hiding how hard he was getting, so he didn't bother. He just pressed himself against you while you licked his bottom lip.

"You're really horny, Roo," you murmured, and he simply nodded. You let one hand drift down along his scarred cheek, and then you were touching your tits.

He was salivating immediately. He could practically smell you. White beads of your milk formed on your nipples as you gently squeezed yourself, and he whimpered your name. His cock was tapping against your thigh in excitement as he lowered himself down to kiss your lips again.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I know you want to. Go ahead."

Bradley sighed and came to rest on his elbows, letting his mouth meet your nipples.

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

You spent all day Saturday running to three different grocery stores to buy ingredients for Bradley's Father's Day picnic lunch. It cost a small fortune to get everything you needed to make chicken salad sandwiches on homemade bread, a charcuterie board, fruit salad, and brownies. Your plan was to get up very early on Sunday to start making everything, but now Bradley's words made you feel like you were going to cry.

"I'm playing golf in the morning."

He was so nonchalant about it, you thought perhaps he was joking at first. But his expression showed a tiny bit of alarm and remorse, and you knew he was actually ditching you and Rose on Father's Day.

When you spoke, you hated how small your voice sounded. "You said all you wanted was a day with just the three of us."

"I do!" he insisted, reaching for you and pulling you close. "That's all I want. I promise I'll be home by lunchtime."

With that, you excused yourself to go to bed. You didn't bother to set an alarm, because what was the point? Rose would wake you up when she started crying her lungs out to eat, and Bradley would already be gone with Jake, Javy and Reuben. Honestly, you would have thought Jake would want to be home with Cat and Jer, and now you were mad at him, too. You thought about texting him but turned your phone screen side down on your nightstand and tossed your glasses aside instead.

A few minutes later, Bradley climbed in bed as well, and you could feel him trying to coax you closer. "I love you," he whispered, but you stayed curled up in a ball until you fell asleep.

Sure enough, he was gone when you woke up. You didn't even bother changing out of your pajamas to feed Rose. Your plans to wear a cute sundress seemed pointless now as you tried to appease your cranky daughter while you made chicken salad and baked a small loaf of bread.

"You'd probably calm down if your dad were here," you mused, handing her toy after toy only for her to push them all away. Finally Tramp had mercy on you and plopped down next to her on her play mat for a few minutes.

Of course the picnic foods looked absolutely perfect, and you struggled to get Rose burped and down for a late morning nap. "I swear you don't act like this for him," you groaned, fighting the urge to start crying. You'd been feeling better over the past few weeks. Your body was becoming more your own again, even though you were still sharing it with your daughter. The birth control and the healing time were certainly helping, but right now, you and Rose came in second place to a round of golf. On Father's Day.

She spit up all over you before she fell asleep, forcing you to change into your dress anyway. The wrapped present on the coffee table along with the homemade card were enough to make you set a timer for noon. If he wasn't back, you were going to eat the meal yourself. Your stomach was already growling.

But Bradley came through the door at 11:58 wearing gym shorts and a tank top with his aviators low on his nose. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding a little bit out of breath as he headed your way. "You look pretty."

Did he think you were stupid? You got up from the couch and turned off the timer. "Where were you, Bradley? Because you weren't playing golf dressed like that."

His cheeks flushed pink at the same time you noticed something wrapped around his right bicep. When he held his arm out to his side, you gasped.

"Why didn't you just tell me that's where you were going?" you whispered, tears burning your eyes. You felt frustrated and embarrassed that you got upset in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured, wrapping his left arm around your waist. "I've been waiting to do this since you told me you were pregnant." You buried your face against his chest and let yourself cry. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I was golfing. I panicked when they called me back and said they could fit me in this morning. I just really wanted to get my second paper plane as soon as possible."

He held you tight with both arms wrapped around you. "You said you just wanted a day with your girls, and I planned a picnic and got you a present, and then you said you wanted to fucking play golf," you sobbed. "Next time just tell me you're getting another tattoo, okay? Because now when you say you're going golfing, I'm going to think you're getting another one anyway."

"Hey," Bradley rasped, tilting your chin so you were looking up at him. "I'm spending the rest of today with my girls. That really is all I wanted to do today. I'm sorry I lied to you. I feel terrible about it now." His brown eyes were sincere which made you feel a lot better, and now you weren't mad at Jake anymore.

"Can I see it?" you whispered, and he immediately started to unwrap his arm. Right there next to the large paper airplane that had Baby Girl written across it was a smaller one that said Rose in the same script. "God, Roo. It's perfect."

"Just like my girls."

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

Okay, so he came within an inch of completely fucking things up on Father's Day. It wasn't like he planned it that way. He wasn't even sure why he said he was going to play golf. None of his friends would even make a tee time on Father's Day and include him. Or Jake for that matter. Plus, Bradley was fucking terrible at lying. He felt apprehensive the entire time he was getting the tattoo done.

It didn't even really matter if you knew about it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be a surprise declaration of his love for his family. Instead he made you stress out and cry, because of course you had a whole fucking day planned. You loved him that much.

He was right there with you and Rose for the rest of the afternoon. He changed her diapers and helped you pack up the food along with a bottle of pink champagne that was tucked way back behind everything else in the refrigerator. He carried everything out to the Bronco and got both of you buckled in. Then he started driving where you told him to.

"Are we going to our wedding venue?" he asked after a few minutes, and you started laughing.

"Is that what we're calling the parking lot?"

"Sweetheart. That's our wedding venue." Rose hadn't been to that beach yet, and now he was excited. So excited. "Rosie, we're going to show you where Mommy first kissed me and fell so in love that she's incapable of being mad at me even though I didn't tell her I was going to get tattooed this morning."

Now you were laughing harder, and you turned his playlist up a little louder, and the sun felt a little brighter. When he pulled into the parking lot, he backed into the spot where you became his wife, and then he strapped Rose into her baby carrier against his chest.

Bradley watched you pull Rosie's little sun hat out of the diaper bag, and you kissed her nose before putting it on her head. "Don't want you to get too much sun." Then you led the way down the rocky path to the sand below where you spread out a beach blanket. You tugged Bradley's hand until he was on his knees, and then you kissed his nose as well. "Don't want you getting too much sun either."

When he remembered the sunburn he got the day of Mickey's birthday kegger, he shuddered, but you were already squeezing some sunblock onto your hands and smoothing it along his face. You smiled when you got some in his mustache, and Bradley leaned closer to kiss you, and then he didn't want to stop. You ended up on your back on the blanket with sunblock on your nose while Bradley cradled Rose's head.

"Happy first Father's Day," you whispered, running your fingers up inside his sleeve to touch the wrapping around his bicep. "Rose is lucky you're her daddy."

The lunch you made was absolutely perfect. Bradley couldn't remember ever having homemade bread before, and he ate two sandwiches in a row. You and he drank the champagne from the bottle on the blanket before walking down to the water. Your tipsy giggles as he dipped Rose's toes in the water made him smile.

"She hates it!" you cackled when Rose pulled her legs up and wailed. Bradley lowered her down again when the next wave came in, and she pulled her feet away from the water once again.

"Aww, Daddy's sorry," he said, lifting her up and flying her around in the air like a plane to get her to calm down. "I'll take you to Virginia Beach where the water is warmer," he promised. "And we can go to the cemetery and visit Grampy Goose and Grandma Carole. How does that sound?"

His daughter looked much happier at the prospect of warmer water and more time with grandparents. Even though Bradley was here with his family, he couldn't help but think about everything he missed out on. Everything he was still missing out on.

He never had a dad to fly him around or dip his toes in the water, at least not that he could remember. All he could recall were glimpses of laughter and being lifted out of his crib. He could almost hear a voice, but he wasn't sure if it was even Nick's or if his memory was playing a trick on him.

Bradley held onto Rose a little tighter as you let your head rest on his shoulder. Your voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear you over the waves. "I wish I could have met them. I wish they were here to see you with Rose."

He knew one thing for a fact. "They would have loved this little Nugget."

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

Quite effortlessly, Bradley led you back up the rocks while he carried Rose and all the gear. As soon as the sun started to set, the wind picked up and the air got chilly. Even though you nursed Rose, you knew she was going to need to eat again so she could fall asleep.

"Oh, you still have to unwrap your present," you told Bradley when you got home and walked past the living room table.

"Right now?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you want to."

He started to take your shirt off, and you ducked out of his grasp with a laugh. "Not me!"

"I don't want anything else though," he rasped, still reaching for you, but you pushed him toward Rose on her play mat instead.

"She needs a quick bath while you open your present, and then I'll give you a blowjob after she's in her crib."

"Hell yes," Bradley muttered, scooping up the baby and the wrapped gift and heading for the bathroom. You filled up Rosie's little tub, and he set her down in the water then started unwrapping the present but keeping his attention mostly on his daughter.

"Do you like it?" you asked over your shoulder, and then he realized he was holding a book. A book about him and you and Rose and Tramp.

Bradley flipped through the pages, staring in awe at the cartoon versions of his family. Each of you had been drawn as a superhero, and even the sketched version of Tramp was wearing a little red cape.

"This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. How did you get this?"

"I had it made," you told him. "I sent photos of all of us to a local artist, and she created the book for you."

"Damn," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at each page again. "I'm such a sappy mess now, I swear." Then he sat down on the floor next to you while you rinsed the sand from Rose's tiny feet and started to read the book out loud. "Once upon a time, the Super Bradshaw Family was just about to eat dinner when Super Dad Bradley's phone rang. The city of San Diego needed help, and there was nobody better to turn to."

The story was fun, and the drawings were silly, and he just knew Rose would probably adore this book when she got a little bit older. And he was so lucky he had a wife who did things like turn him into a cartoon superhero for Father's Day and make him a four course picnic lunch.

He also had a wife who dropped to her knees as soon as they were alone. You looked up at him as you pulled his shorts and underwear down to his thighs, kissing his cock as you whispered, "There's my Super Daddy Bradley."

He grinned as he pulled his shirt off as well, enjoying how pretty you looked below his flat abs with your hand cupping his balls. "You absolutely own me, Baby Girl. I'm a fucking wreck for you. I'm all tattooed for my girls now. If you want me to be your Super Daddy, you know I will be."

You licked your lips and parted them, and then Bradley was in heaven.

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

I need Jer to have a dad. I need it in my bones. I also need Bradley to have a sensational 38th birthday before he packs his bags and goes to La Jolla with his wife for three days in bed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

274 notes · View notes

lovebug-apple · 1 day

Text

Yandere!Neglectful Batfam x Batmom!Reader PART 3

With the Batfamily

Everyone had gathered in the Bat cave, surrounding Tim as he looked over the divorce papers. He was struggling. Tim didn’t believe this was real. In fact he thought Y/n was full of shit, and just pulled this little stunt for attention, but he just wanted to be sure. Because if she left the media would get suspicious, and she would disrupt the natural order of the family.

He didn’t believe it was real…….but it was very very convincing. Almost as if it was real. But it couldn’t be real…right?

Bruce was angry, and worried. He was so enraged that his wife would ever do this to his children-to him. Putting all this unnecessary stress on them, just because she wanted attention. And he didn’t even know how long she’d been gone…..come to think about it, he didn’t know the last time he even spoke to her. That’s what he needed to do!

How could he be so stupid? He just needed to call her phone, and that would be that. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through looking for her contact, only to see the last time it was dialed was 3 years ago. That was a little after Jason came back. How has it been that long? Brushing this aside, he called her, expecting it to be answered immediately, but was surprised when the caller ID said disconnected. This was getting worrisome. The others looked toward him with furrowed eyebrows. When had she disconnected her phone? And what was her new number? Why hadn’t she told him?

As he mulled over these questions, an unknown number called him. Thinking it was his wife, he answered it right away, with his hopes of finding out what was going on skyrocketing. What he didn’t expect was to hear a deep, familiar chuckle. The Joker. It was at this moment that Bruce’s world came crashing down.

With Y/n and the Joker

Y/n woke up with a grunt, the cold steel room being an anchor, bringing her back to reality. She didn't know where she was, and she hoped and prayed that what she did remember was a very unsettling nightmare. She knew, however, that this was false hope as she looked around the room, and saw the Joker leaning against the wall, his goons straying not too far from him.

“I didn’t think it’d take ya that long to wake up. Although I should expect the Bat never trained ya, huh?” he chuckled darkly, his wide grin sending shivers down y/n’s spine. She knew she was in danger, but she couldn’t help herself from trying to save her case.

“He won’t come!” she blurted out in desperation. He perked up at that. Seeing that she piqued his interest, she continued. “He doesn’t care about me. He hates me even, they all did, that’s why I was in Jump City……” she hesitated before continuing, “I needed to get away, and I doubt they even knew I was gone. Even if you do tell him you have me, he probably won’t come.”

The Joker was pleasantly surprised. He had already told Bruce, and he seemed to care about Y/n more than anything. He reacted even worse than he did with Jason. So either she was lying, which he doubted she was based on the look in her eyes, or, Bruce realized his mistakes, and was going to stop at nothing to correct it.

The Joker knew Bruce, better than the back of his hand even, and how Bruce reacted under stressful situations. This however was not just a stressful situation, this was the “love of his life”, and this worried him. Batman had never sounded so angry. While he was lost in thought, Y/n spoke again, voice filled with sadness.

“You already told him, didn’t you?” all she felt was sorrow. She had been kidnapped, and even then, that wasn’t enough to garner attention from her family. She had already lost her parents not too long after she married Bruce, and now she was sure she had no one. “He’s not coming. You might as well just kill me, and get it over with…..” Tears leaked down her face as her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I will. He seemed to care a lot when I told him I had ya. He was angry.” His smile had widened a significant amount, thinking of all the possibilities to beat Batman. This was going to be fun.

Hope you all enjoy! 😁 😁

@redkarmakai @moonieper @thatpersonnamedrook @madine11-blog @bat1212 @feral-childs-word @resident-cryptid @ch1cky-093 @sweetconnoiseurgardener @sillysealsies @dhanyasri @bloodyboi

#yandere x reader #neglected reader #dc x reader #batfam

286 notes · View notes

tiredsmashbros · 2 days

Text

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

...

thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

#smg34 #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg3 x smg4 #smg4 x smg3 #smg4 fanart #smg3 fanart #smg4 comic #smg34 comic #sketches #comic wip #comic #tsb 1k birthday party

266 notes · View notes

authorhjk1 · 2 days

Text

Punishment

(Handong X Male Reader)

"So what? It's not like you're my boyfriend."

"You're right. I'm not."

You take a good look at Handong's stage outfit. It was already slutty to begin with. A sports bra, a see through jacket, loose pants and even her panties sticking out.

"But I don't want everyone to stare at what's mine."

"Yours?"

Handong furrows her brows.

"Yes. Mine."

You take a step closer, the two of you standing almost nose to nose. Well, if Handong was taller.

"I might be Jiu's boyfriend. But you all agreed to satisfy me, whenever and wherever. And I don't like you showing off what is only ment for me."

"Really? What about Yooheyon then?"

Handong's snappy tone makes you roll your eyes. Here we go again. With this never ending I-throw-another-member-under-the-bus-so-I'm-not-the-only-one-getting-punished thing.

"I will take care of Yooheyon's ass later. But I'm here for yours now."

Handong's cheeks turn pink. She always becomes this shy and pure whenever you tell her that you want her. It's cute, no doubt. But it's the total opposite of who she really is.

Her eyes wander to the bag in your hand, which she glanced at occasionally since you walked into her room. And finally you open it up. The young woman can feel her whole body becoming warmer as you take out a big bottle of lube. You put it into her hand without looking up, too busy with taking out the next item.

Handong herself is still looking at the bottle, too focused on imagining if she can take your punishment. That's why she doesn't see the push coming. With a yelp, her back hits the sheets. You quickly get on top of her and turn her around. Stripping her off her jacket is just a matter of seconds. When Handong finally starts to struggle, you've already tied one of her hands to the bedpost.

"What aree you doing?"

"What does it look like, princess?"

Her cheeks flush once more, but she keeps up the struggle. Sitting on top of her, you press her into the sheets with your own weight. Handong is completely helpless as you tie her second wrist to the other bedpost.

"Wait. Can't I make it up to you?"

"Oh, you will. Don't you worry about that."

Your tone makes Handong fight back harder, but to no use. Moments later, her legs are all tied up too.

"Oh come one. It's not like I had much of a choice. The company gave me the outfit."

You don't answer, but instead raise her hips with one hand and pull down her pants with the other. Revealing the rest of her already partially exposed panties, you let Handong's body fall back on the sheets.

"I promise I'll be good from now on."

Despite being completely tied up, Handong still pulls on the ropes on her wrists.

"I recognize that bottle. Yooheyon said you used it on her when..."

She comes to a hold, once again putting on a shy act. You let your hands roam her cheeks, giving them a squeeze here and there. It makes her lift her hips off the bed involuntarily. In a swift motion, you pull off her panties.

You hear her gasp as you are greeted with Handong's ass and pussy. The latter already visibly wet.

"When you tried out that your new toy on her. She said she couldn't leave the bed that day, because she couldn't walk."

You place your hand on of her cheeks and reach down with your thumb to play with her folds a little. Handong's breath hitches at your touch.

"A-Are you going to use it on me too?"

"No, princess."

A harsh spank hits her completely by surprise. Her mewl makes you smile.

"I need to punish you properly."

Reaching for the bottle, you open it and tilt it on its head. The clear liquid hits Handong's cheeks soon after. You wait for a good while, probably emptying one forth of the entire bottle. Once you're satisfied, you let it fall next to you.

Handong lets a moan slip out of her mouth as you massage the lube into her cheeks. Her porcelain like skin starts to glow in the light of her room. Her ass looks so much better this way. You can't help but bite your lip. More moans leave her lips as you keep coating her ass with the lube.

After quickly getting rid off your clothes, you coat your cock in the same liquid. You scoot a little closer, now almost sitting on her ass, pressing her cheeks upwards a little. It makes them look slightly bigger as you push your cock between them. You see her grabbing onto the ropes, bracing herself for what's to come.

"Damn, princess."

You groan as you push your tip into the ring of tight muscles. Handong let's out a deep moan. You don't need to slowly ease her into anal anymore. By now, Handong is almost taking you inside her asshole on a daily basis. It's just the first time you've tied her up.

"Oh, gosh."

Her eyes are shut tightly as you push further. The lube making it easier for you, but you still have to come to a hold eventually, waiting for her ass to get accustomed to being filled. But eventually, you can start to fuck Handong properly.

Her mewls and whines echo through the room as you pound her ass from behind. She doesn't have a choice. She can only take it. Like the good little princess she is. Or at least that's what she is supposed to be.

You hold onto her cheeks for now. Slightly spreading them apart, the oily skin still glistening in the light. A gorgeous sight. You watch your cock going in and out of her ass, her tight muscles already loosening up. Shortly after, you can fuck Handong's ass as rough as you would fuck the other's pussies.

Too focused on her cheeks, you only notice after some time that her moans have become quieter. Looking at her, you see that her head as dropped. Face first into her pillow. You reach forward, grabbing her pink pigtails.

"Oh god, yes!"

Handong's cry makes you fuck her harder as you you use her pigtails as handle bars. Her tight ass squeezes your cock. Unlike Yooheyon, Handong can actually take quite a lot. So you don't have trouble speeding up, making sure your hips clap against her cheeks.

And idea comes to mind. You take both her pigtails in one hand and reach with the other for her phone, which she put down next to her on the bed, when you entered her room. Handong suddenly becomes quiet, when she hears the calling sound.

"W-Who are you calling?"

"Don't worry, princess."

"Hello?"

You hear your girlfriend's voice through the phone. Instead of answering, you place it right in front of Handong's face on the pillow. Taking her pigtails in both hands once more, you start to fuck her again.

"Hello?"

Jiu asks again. And despite her desperate efforts, Handong soon answers with a string of desperate moans. She is turning into a mess underneath you, while her leader praises her on the other side of the line.

"Good girl, Handong. I hope you're satisfying my boyfriend? Just take it and be good. You know how much I love you, right?"

You can't see her face, but you would bet everything you have on the fact that Handong's embarrassment is at an all time high. You bite your lip, feeling a familiar feeling in your stomach at the thought. You let go of her pink hair, making Handong's head fall back into the pillow and with that onto her phone as well. Her nose touches the screen, cutting Jiu's praises short.

Sooner rather than later, unfortunately, you find yourself nearing your orgasm. You wish you could fuck her tight hole for longer, but you know you can't take much more.

"Fuck, Handong. I'm gonna creampie your ass."

Only a moan leaves her lips, but that's confirmation enough for you.

You go faster and harder for one last time. Doing your best to properly pound her ass.

With a groan, you come to a hold. You lean down on her as you feel her ass milking your cock. Handong gasps as she feels your cum fill her puckered hole. After a couple of moments, you thrust into her a couple of times, making sure you push your seed as deep inside of her as possible.

Eventually, you climb off her used body. Handong doesn't move. Her face once more in her pillow, her face red in embarrassment. You find it cute that Handong becomes shy when you cum inside of her.

But when she hears the door open, she finally looks over her shoulder.

"W-Where are you going?"

"Like you said, Yooheyon needs to be punished too."

"And you're gonna leave me here?"

"Did you think your punishment is over already?"

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

Hi guys!

Just a short fic for Handong. I needed to get this out of my system, so I can get back to writing SNSD Village. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

Stay healthy everyone!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher #handong smut #handong dreamcatcher #handong

270 notes · View notes

ghostedeabha · 3 days

Note

Ooooo oh my god that Simon anesthesia story was so good 😭

And omg What about a flip of that situation?? Kinda based on that one video where the girl is under anesthesia and her boyfriend kisses her and she’s like “THAT CUTE GUY IS KISSIN ME!! :0”

this is such a cute idea, i love it. i hope it's up to your expectations! sorry it took so long and that it's so short T^T

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 364

warnings: none really, lots of fluff. mentions of surgery, mentions of dental surgery.

a/n: ahhhh first fic since i came back, sorry for the long wait everyone T^T when i regained motivation, i got locked out of my blog for a few hours ans it was very stressful but all is well now and i'm really trying to stick to writing now, so send in all your ideas n requests!

if you were to rate how you felt on a scale of 1 to 10 right now, you’d probably answer 11 with a giggle just from how whacked you were from the anesthesia after your surgery.

simon couldn't take you seriously right now, and it was kind of adorable actually, trying to stiffle his laughter at how shy you were acting around him as if he wasn't your boyfriend.

“how’re you feelin’ there, luv?” he asks with a grin on his face.

“’m great, thanks doctor.”

oh cute. you thought he was your doctor.

“you know who i am, (name)?” simon chuckles.

“i… definitely do. yes.” you reply slowly, confusion evident in your voice but you were determined to not give away the fact that your memory was hazy right now.

“do you now?” another soft chuckle leaves simon as he continues to press you. he leans a little closer to you, suppressing his chuckles when your face begins to burn a little redder from his proximity to you.

“mhm.” you nod, looking up at the man who was clearly trying to tease you into an oblivion.

“well that’s good.” simon says, tipping your head back to look up at him with a gentle grasp on your chin, his tumb and forefinger gripping your face softly yet firmly.

he leans down to press a quick, loving kiss to your lips and the reaction you have is absolutely priceless to simon.

your face is as red as a strawberry and your eyes are wide like dinner plates as you stare up at him in pure shock and awe. simon can't help but let out another, deep chuckle at your reaction.

meanwhile, your mind is racing a million miles a minute.

this cute guy just kissed me! oh my gosh! what do i do? what am i supposed to do?! he just kissed me!

when the man speaks up, you swear you’ve never felt dumber as the memories come back to you like a flood.

“i’m your boyfriend, darlin’. simon, remember?”

you have never felt more embarrassed in your life.

and simon’s never felt more in love.

#ghostedéabha #ghostedéabha: simon riley #éabha writes #éabha's 💌#awnie's amazing nonnies💞#ghostedéabha: ghost #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

274 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 1 day

Note

If you ever heard the song “Insecure” by Jazmine Sullivan, I was wondering if you could read a fic with rafe about that

it’s Like toxic!rafe and reader

insecure - bsf!toxic!rafe x kook!reader

If someone asked you how it started, you couldn’t even tell them.

It was Rafe Cameron you were talking about.

The guy was a walking red flag, all swagger, all ego, and too much money for his own good. He had the type of face that made you forgive him even when you didn’t want to. And trust, you'd tried to not want to. But that never worked out, obviously.

It’s not like you thought you could change him or whatever. You were not one of those girls. You just...thought you’d be different. Special. Maybe you got a little caught up in that fairy tale bullshit sometimes. Like, maybe if you were the one who held his attention long enough, maybe he’d stop messing around and actually be serious.

Actually see you.

Spoiler alert: That’s not how it worked

You learned that real quick with Rafe.

It wasn’t even two months in before you found some girl's scrunchie in his Jeep.

You were leaving the club, both tipsy, and you slid into the passenger seat when you spotted it in the back. You know how girls leave stuff behind like it’s a game? Like it’s their way of marking territory? That scrunchie was practically a neon sign that read, "I was here."

You picked it up, twirled it around your finger, and waited for him to notice.

He didn’t.

“What's this?” You finally asked, not even looking at him, just staring at that stupid pink scrunchie like it had all the answers you needed.

Rafe glanced over at it for half a second before shrugging, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Dunno. Probably Sarah’s.”

Sarah Cameron, his sister, the golden girl of the family. His excuse every time something came up.

“It’s not Sarah’s.” You weren't buying it. You knew that girl’s style inside and out, and there’s no way in hell she’d be caught dead wearing something this basic. You tossed it into the backseat, feeling your blood boil.

Of course he’d still treat you like shit, why care about a lifelong friendship, right?

Rafe rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have the decency to act like he cared that you were pissed.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice dripping with that condescension that always made you feel stupid for caring. “It’s just a fucking scrunchie.”

But it wasn’t. Not to you.

See, the thing with Rafe is, he never said he was yours. You never had some grand conversation about exclusivity, about titles, none of that. But that’s how it was with him. He’d show up at your door, flash that killer smile, and you’d forget every reason why he wasn’t good for you.

And yet, there was this constant feeling in your chest.

Tight, twisted, like a knot you couldn’t untangle.

It wasn’t just the girls or the scrunchies or the way he’d disappear for days, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and half-assed explanations. It was you. How you felt around him. You were constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if you were enough, if you were what he wanted. Things were so different before.

If you were even on his radar when you weren't right in front of him. And that feeling, that deep, gnawing insecurity? It was starting to mess with your head.

A week after the scrunchie incident, you found yourself at another one of those parties on Figure Eight. The kind where we Kooks pretend we're so much better than everyone else but still drink cheap beer out of red solo cups. It was the usual crowd—Topper, Kelce, a few other guys you barely knew, and, of course, Rafe.

You were wearing this black mini dress you knew he liked, the one that hugged your body in all the right places. You wanted to feel good tonight, like you could make him see you the way you needed him to. It was pathetic, but you thought if you played your cards right, maybe you'd get more than just half-hearted attention.

But then, halfway through the night, you saw her.

This girl—some random pogue you'd never seen before—leaning against the bar, laughing at something Rafe was saying. And it wasn’t just that he was talking to her. No, it was the way he was looking at her. That look he used to give you when you first started whatever this was between you two.

Like she was the most interesting thing in the room. Like she was the only thing. Even if she was wearing that cheap, threadbare tank top and worn-out jean shorts. The kind of clothes that screamed she probably worked at some surf shop or waited tables just to get by. And here Rafe was, cozying up to her like she was something special. Like she wasn’t just another girl he’d forget about tomorrow. Making yourself compare to someone like her.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, your palms sweaty as you watched them. You could feel your heart sinking, your gut screaming at you to just leave. But you didn’t. You just stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, watching him slide his hand up the back of her arm, a move so smooth, so practiced, it made you feel sick.

You hated this. Hated yourself. Hated that you let him have this kind of power over you.

Your mind did that annoying thing where it flashed back to the first time you slept with him. Like it wanted to torture you with every little detail of how you got here. You’d both been drunk, of course. But not blackout drunk—just the kind of buzzed where everything feels a little too easy, a little too warm.

You’d known Rafe forever, been best friends since you were kids. He was practically a part of you, or at least, he used to be. You trusted him, which is why when he showed up at your place that night, laughing about something stupid, you didn’t think twice when he crashed on your couch.

Only he didn’t stay on the couch.

You remember how he looked at you from across the room, that cocky smile he always wore, but softer somehow. Like he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make a move. He’d leaned in, brushed his hand against your leg—casual, but not really. Your heart had pounded in your chest, but you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t want to stop him.

And when he kissed you? You were done for. All those years of being “just friends” went right out the window. It was like all the tension between you, all the unspoken stuff, just exploded. You were in his lap before you even realized what was happening, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that it was just this one-time thing, a moment of weakness.

But Rafe… he knew how to get to you.

He made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered, even though you weren’t. You were just there, convenient. But at the time? You didn’t see it like that. You thought maybe this would change everything. That maybe the Rafe you’d grown up with was still in there somewhere, buried under all the coke, the girls, the chaos.

You were wrong.

It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even blame the girl. She probably had no idea who Rafe really was. She just saw the guy with the money, the smile, the charm.

Your throat tightened as he leaned in, saying something that made her laugh again. That same laugh he’d once pulled out of you. God, how could you be so stupid? You knew what he was. Hell, you’d known for years. But still, you’d let yourself get wrapped up in him, like maybe you’d be the exception. Like maybe you’d matter.

But you didn’t. You were just another girl he’d sweet-talk, mess with, and then forget about the second something new and shiny came along.

Topper came up beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. “You good?”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the scene in front of you and forcing a smile. “Yeah, totally. Just need another drink.” Your voice was light, casual, but inside, you were falling apart.

He gave you a weird look, but shrugged it off.

Guess everyone knew how you felt about Rafe. You weren't exactly subtle about it.

You downed another vodka soda, the burn doing nothing to numb the ache in your chest, and made a beeline for the back of the house.

You needed air. You needed to breathe.

You barely made it past the kitchen before you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. You turned, expecting it to be some random guy, but no—it was Rafe. His grip was tight, a little too tight, and you could see the annoyance in his eyes.

“You’re leaving already?”

Rafe’s grip on your wrist was too tight, but it wasn’t like that surprised you anymore. It was always like this with him—one second, things were fine, and the next, you were stuck in this same stupid cycle of feeling small and stupid for caring.

“I just need some air,” you muttered, trying to pull away, but of course, he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked across your face like he was trying to figure out if you were actually upset or just being “dramatic,” which, spoiler alert, you weren’t.

“You’re not seriously mad about that girl, right?” His voice dripped with amusement, like your feelings were some kind of joke to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice like that was supposed to make you feel better. “It’s not that deep.”

It's hard to remember this used to be your best friend, before you two started whatever this game was and he decided you just weren't that girl to him anymore, just another body he could call up when he needed to get laid.

You stared at him, mouth dry, trying to figure out why you were even still standing here.

“Really?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Because it kinda feels like it is.” You finally yanked your wrist free, stepping back just enough to get some space. “Do you even care? Like, do you even care that you’re making me feel like this?” You hated how your voice cracked, how vulnerable you sounded.

Rafe just stared at you like you were overreacting. “I don’t get what the big deal is. Why are you always making this such a thing?”

Fun. God, that word made your stomach turn.

Fun for who? You knew what he meant, but hearing it out loud still stung. You’d been holding onto this hope, this ridiculous idea that maybe you were different, maybe he cared more. But it was so clear now. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even close.

“It’s a thing because it is a thing,” you said, voice shaky but steady enough. “I can’t just turn off my feelings like you do, Rafe. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when I see you flirting with other girls like I don’t exist.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re making this complicated. I never said we were serious. You knew what this was from the start.”

And there it was.

The slap of reality you’d been avoiding for way too long. He never said you were his, never promised you anything more than what he gave—a few nights here and there, some attention when it was convenient for him, but nothing real.

And you knew that. But it didn’t stop you from wanting more.

“But you still keep me around, don’t you?” you said quietly, mostly talking to yourself at this point. “You keep me close when it’s easy, when it’s fun for you. And I let you.”

God, that hurt to admit out loud. You let him make you feel like this. Over and over.

Rafe just stood there, completely unfazed. Like this was no big deal. He shrugged, and it made you want to scream. “If you’re so unhappy, then just leave.”

You stared at him, feeling your heart twist in your chest. How did it always come back to this? Him pushing you away like you didn’t mean anything. Like you weren’t standing right here, hurting. You searched his face for something—anything—that showed he actually gave a damn.

But there was nothing.

“Yeah,” you whispered, throat tight. “Maybe I should.”

Rafe blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. The moment you said “maybe I should,” it was like the words didn’t even register with him. He let out this half-laugh, half-scoff, eyebrows raised. “Wait—what? You’re not actually serious right now.”

You just stood there, trying to hold onto the last shred of whatever self-respect you had left, but his reaction made you feel like you were the crazy one. Like you weren’t the one who’d been dragged through the emotional wringer for months.

“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible, but inside? You were shaking. “I’m done.”

He shook his head, like you were talking nonsense. “C’mon, stop. You always say shit like this when you’re mad. You’ll cool off in a couple hours. You’re just… overreacting. Again.”

That word—overreacting—was like gasoline on the fire burning inside you.

“I’m not overreacting. I’m tired.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of all the times you’d let him off the hook. “I’m tired of feeling like an idiot every time I care about you. Every time I think we might actually be something.”

He took a step closer, and you could smell the beer and expensive cologne clinging to him. “We are something,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine, like he believed it. “We have fun. You’re acting like I’m out here trying to hurt you or somethin'.”

“You don’t think you’re hurting me because you never even think about me in the first place,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You never even consider how any of this makes me feel, and that’s the problem. You don’t care.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back like you half-expected him to. Instead, he just stared at you, confusion all over his face, like this was the first time he’d ever heard any of this.

“So what, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the concept of you actually walking away from him didn’t make any sense. “You’re not serious. You won’t actually leave.”

Your heart twisted at that—at how confident he was that you’d stay. That no matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many girls there were, or how many times he ghosted you, you’d always be right there, waiting. Because you always were. All your life.

He was so sure of it.

You felt your hands shake, and you hated that he still had that power over you. That even now, standing here in this stupid hallway at some stupid party, your heart was still fighting your brain, still wanting to hold onto him just a little bit longer.

But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Yeah, Rafe. I’m leaving.” The words came out firm, stronger than you even thought you were capable of right now. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Or maybe it was just the realization that he didn’t have you as locked down as he thought. “You’re really gonna walk away from this?” He gestured between the two of you, as if whatever this was had been so good, so untouchable. “Don’t be stupid.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You think I’m the one being stupid? You’ve taken me for granted this whole time, and I was dumb enough to let you."

He just stood there, silent, looking like he didn’t even know how to answer. Because he didn’t. He never actually thought you’d go. He never thought you’d call him on his shit and mean it.

But you did. And now he was realizing it.

Without waiting for him to say another word, you turned and walked away, feeling like you could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

You barely made it a few steps before you heard him call after you. “Wait, hold on!”

You kept walking, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. You knew if you stopped, if you even looked back at him, you’d get sucked right back in. But of course, Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easy.

“Wait!” His voice was closer now, and before you could pick up the pace, he grabbed your arm—not harshly this time, just enough to make you stop. “Come on, don’t just walk away.”

You sighed, shutting your eyes for a second before turning around. “What, Rafe? What do you want me to say?” You were so exhausted from this, from him, from the constant back and forth. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

He let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to rein it in. “Can we just… talk about this? You’re pissed right now, and I get it, but you can’t just leave like this.”

“I can leave,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “That’s literally what I’m doing."

He exhaled sharply, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re really just gonna throw everything away? After all this time?”

You stared at him, heart pounding in your chest. “What exactly am I throwing away? Huh? What have we even been lately? ’Cause from where I’m standing, all I’ve been doing is waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth more than just a random hookup whenever you feel like it.”

He winced at that, and for a second, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d get it. Maybe this would be the moment where he actually realized how badly he’d been screwing up. But instead, he went for the same excuse he always did.

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, like that would erase everything. “You know I care about you, okay? We’ve known each other forever. You’re… important to me.”

“Important to you?” You laughed, but it wasn’t even close to funny. “If this is how you treat people who are ‘important’ to you, then I don’t even wanna know how you treat people who aren’t. Oh wait, I do know."

Rafe sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. But…Can we just, like, think about it for a second? Talk about it?”

You shook your head, feeling the frustration build again. “What is there to talk about? You only wanna have this conversation now because I’m actually leaving. You never wanted to talk about it before.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No, Rafe. You think I haven’t tried to bring this up? Every time I tell you how I feel, you brush me off. I’ve been bending over backwards, trying to make this work, and all I’ve gotten in return is you treating me like I’m an afterthought.”

Rafe frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not true. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Because I’m walking away,” you shot back. “That’s the only reason you care right now—because you don’t wanna lose control. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You never actually thought I’d leave.”

He didn’t say anything, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “We used to be best friends. I knew you better than anyone, and you knew me. But I don’t even recognize you anymore. And honestly? I don’t recognize me when I’m around you either.” Your voice softened, "I deserve better than this. And you know it.”

For a second, he just stood there, looking at you like he was processing everything. His face wasn’t smug or arrogant anymore. He actually looked… lost. Maybe even scared. It was the first time you’d seen him drop the act in a long time, and for a split second, you felt that pull again—the one that always made you want to fix things, to make it better, to stay.

But you couldn’t do it this time. You couldn’t keep saving him at the expense of yourself.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “You’re… you’re one of the only people who actually gets me. I don’t wanna lose that.”

That hit you right in the gut, because deep down, you didn’t wanna lose him either. He was right—you did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t change what he’d been putting you through. And just because he was scared of losing you didn’t mean he was ready to treat you the way you deserved to be treated.

“I don’t wanna lose you either,” you admitted, “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl you turn to when it’s convenient for you.”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the ground like he didn’t know what to say. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was finally realizing how badly he’d screwed this up.

You sighed, stepping back. “Look, I hope you figure your shit out. I really do. But I’m not sticking around to wait for that.”

You’d barely taken two steps when you heard him again, this time his voice quieter, almost desperate. “Wait—please. Just… don’t go.”

You paused, but you didn’t turn around. You were trying so hard to keep it together, to not let him see how badly this was wrecking you. Then he dropped the bomb.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sober.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned back around, eyes wide. “What?”

He looked at you like he was begging you to understand, to stay. “I’m serious. Since I stopped using…you’re the only thing that’s been helping me hold it together. You leaving—it’s gonna fuck me up. You know that.”

Your heart twisted, hard. Of course he’d pull this now. You stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I’m not lying,” He insisted, taking a step closer. “I swear. I’m trying to do better. You’re the reason I haven’t gone back to that shit. You’ve always been the one to pull me out of it, and if you leave—”

“Stop,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re really trying to put this on me?” Your voice was rising, and you didn’t even care if people inside the party heard you. “You’re trying to make me responsible for you staying clean? Do you realize how fucked up that is?”

Rafe flinched, his expression shifting from desperate to defensive. “I’m just saying it how it is. You’ve helped me more than anyone else. You know that.”

“No,” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I’m not carrying that weight for you. That’s not fair, and you know it.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done. “You can’t just dump your problems on me and expect me to fix them. I’m not your therapist, and I’m definitely not your savior.” Your chest was heaving now, all the anger and hurt that had been building up for months finally spilling over. “You don’t get to use your sobriety as a leash to keep me here.”

His face fell at that, and for a split second, you saw a flash of guilt. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he said, though even he sounded unsure of his words now. “I just… I don’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t know what to do because you’ve never had to actually deal with the consequences of your actions,” you fired back. ��You’ve always just said whatever you needed to say to keep people around. To keep me around.”

Rafe looked at you like he wanted to fight back, but the fight wasn’t there. Not this time. “That’s not what this is,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m glad you’re sober. I really am. But that’s not my responsibility. It never should’ve been.” You paused, feeling every word you were about to say. “If staying clean depends on me staying in your life, then you haven’t actually changed. You’ve just found a new addiction.”

He stared at you, and for the first time, he didn’t have a response. No cocky smirk, no empty promises. Just silence.

“I’m not gonna be your crutch anymore,” you said softly, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, painful sadness. “You need to get better for you, not for me. And if you can’t do that… then this was never gonna work anyway.”

Rafe’s shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeat in his eyes, like he was finally realizing that no matter what he said, this time you weren’t coming back.

“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

You blinked back the tears that were starting to sting your eyes. “You’ll figure it out."

His on his knees before you realized. Literally.

Your eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Rafe, what the hell are you doing?”

He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just staring at the floor, hands running through his hair like he was about to lose it. “Please don’t leave. I’m begging you. I—I can’t… I don’t know what to do without you.”

You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Because maybe he had. What was this? You felt like you were watching some movie, except it was your life, and it wasn’t dramatic or romantic or whatever he thought it was. It was just… sad. And kind of terrifying.

“Get up.” Your voice wasn’t even loud—it was flat, emotionless. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore. “Rafe, seriously. Get the fuck up.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re all I’ve ever had, okay? Since we were kids, you’ve been the only person who’s ever stuck with me. Everyone else leaves. Everyone. But not you. You’ve always been there, no matter how much I’ve messed up.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut because, deep down, they were true. You had always been there. Through everything. The good, the bad, and the absolute worst. And maybe that’s why it hurt so damn much now—because he’d taken that loyalty, that friendship, and twisted it into something ugly and unrecognizable.

“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I seriously can’t believe you right now.” You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. “You think this is gonna fix everything? You think getting on your knees and saying some bullshit is gonna make me forget all the times you hurt me?"

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy, and it almost made your heart break. Almost. But you weren't going to fall for it anymore. “I didn’t mean to take you for granted. I just—I never thought you’d actually leave. You never left before.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” you snapped, “You always thought I’d stay, no matter how bad you treated me. You counted on it."

“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking. “I know I fucked up. But I’ll do anything to fix it. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please, just don’t go.”

You stared at him, the guy you’d known since forever, the one you’d stuck by when no one else did. The one you thought you could save, even though now you realized you couldn’t even save yourself when you were with him.

But this? Him on his knees? This wasn’t him fixing anything. This was him panicking, terrified that the one thing he’d taken for granted all these years was slipping away.

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to keep you alive. That’s on you. I’ve been there for you since we were six, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where that’s gotten us.”

His eyes were pleading, desperate, but you knew that if you stayed, this would keep happening. He would hurt you again, and you’d forgive him.

Because that’s what you did. That’s what you’d always done.

“I can’t keep being your safety net,” you whispered, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “You have to figure out who you are without me always picking up the pieces.”

He shook his head, his voice breaking. “But I don’t know how.”

And that was the saddest part of all. He didn’t know how. He had no idea who he was without you constantly there to catch him when he fell. And you were tired of being the one holding him up while he pulled you down.

You took a deep breath, looking down at him—this broken, scared version of Rafe you never wanted to see.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “but this? This isn’t love. This isn’t healthy. This is you being afraid of losing control. And I’m not gonna let you use me to keep your shit together anymore.”

His eyes filled with tears, and for a second, your heart ached. Because yeah, you loved him once. Maybe you still did in some messed-up way. But love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.

“I hope you get better,” you said, taking a step back. “I really do. But I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

And for the first time in your life, you were the one to walk away.

225 notes · View notes