#everyone in the house is in love with her already

[badathumanemotions]

Hey, would you be able to write a nsfw fic with spencer but maybe where a few of the team members decide to play poker at Rossi’s and it turns into strip poker with like a bit of truth or dare and you end up sat on Spencer’s lap with like barely any clothes on or smt. And then like later they end up having to share a room at rossi’s and then yk..

High Stakes

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Strip Poker, Half Naked Lap Sitting, Grinding, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Face Fucking, Dirty Talk. WC: 5,799 I have no idea how to play poker. (Not Proof Read)

"Alright, who's up for a round of poker?" Derek Morgan announced, his eyes scanning the table.

You looked around at the weary but smiling faces of your teammates. After a long, successful case, dinner at Rossi's had been the perfect way to unwind. The aroma of his homemade lasagna still lingered in the air, mingling with the sweetness of their dessert.

"I think I'll pass," Aaron said, pushing back his chair with a stretch. "It's been a long day. I'd love to join you all, but I better get home to Haley and Jack." His eyes crinkled at the mention of his wife and son.

Rossi nodded, understanding. "Alright, I'll walk you out." They disappeared into the hallway, leaving the rest of the team to rearrange the furniture in the den.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You in?" Emily Prentiss asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You nodded, trying to hide your nerves. "Sure, I'm in. It's been a while since I played, but I'll give it a shot."

The table was soon set up with cards, chips, and drinks. You took a seat next to Spencer, who was already shuffling the deck with a focused intensity that was a little unnerving.

"Okay, everyone," Rossi called out as he re-entered the room. "Let's get this game started." He took his place at the table, his eyes showing a hint of fatigue. "But remember, I'm only playing a couple of hands. It's been a long day and I need my beauty sleep." His comment was met with laughter from the others.

The first hand of poker began, with Spencer dealing the cards with a swiftness that spoke of his years of experience playing the game. His eyes darted around the table, reading the subtle tells of his teammates. You took a deep breath and picked up your cards, feeling the smooth edges against your fingertips.

As the hand unfolded, the banter grew more playful, the stakes rising with each round of betting. You watched as Derek Morgan's face remained unreadable, his poker face firmly in place. Meanwhile, JJ's occasional glances at her cards betrayed her excitement, while Garcia's fidgeting with her chips was a clear sign she was bluffing.

Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his cards, his mind racing through probabilities and possible outcomes. When it came down to the showdown, he laid out a full house with a smug smile. "Well, well, well," he said, collecting his winnings. "It seems like Lady Luck is on my side tonight."

The room buzzed with good-natured groans and teasing. "How does he do it?" JJ jokes, shaking her head.

A couple more rounds went by, the tension rising as the pot grew. Each of you played strategically, the air filled with anticipation and the clinking of chips. Prentiss leaned back in her chair, her arms folded as she studied the table.

Finally, after one particularly intense round, Rossi rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Alright, I think I've had enough fun for one night. I'm going to call it quits and head upstairs." He glanced around the table. "If anyone wants to crash here tonight, the guest rooms are all yours. No need to drive home if you're feeling too tired."

The team bid him good night, their eyes lingering on the chips and cards as they continued to play. With Rossi's departure, the atmosphere grew slightly more competitive. You felt a thrill as the game went on, the camaraderie of the team mixing with the cutthroat nature of poker.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a devilish grin spread across his face. "You know what would make this night even better?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that?" Prentiss asked, her interest piqued.

Morgan's grin widened. "How about we spice things up a bit?" He suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Strip poker, anyone?"

The room fell silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up, surprised by the proposal. Prentiss's smile grew wicked. "Now that's a twist," she said, her gaze flickering to JJ.

JJ caught your eye and noticed your hesitance. She leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on the table. "You know, we can always play truth or dare instead," she suggested, her voice low and soothing. "It's less… risky."

Morgan's smile grew. "How about both?" he proposed, raising the stakes. "You can opt to either take a piece of clothing off or complete a truth or dare from the group." The room buzzed with excitement and a little trepidation. You swallowed hard, trying to decide if you were ready for this.

Garcia squealed with delight. "I'm in!" she exclaimed, her cheeks already pink.

You took a deep breath, the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. The thought of playing strip poker was a bit intimidating, but the alternative rule of truth or dare had its own thrill. You found yourself nodding in agreement. "Alright, why not? Strip poker with a twist it is."

The game continued, the stakes now higher in more ways than one. Garcia was the first to go, losing a shoe to a bad bluff. She giggled, tossing it aside and taking a shot of tequila.

JJ's eyes widened slightly as she had to remove her sweater, revealing a tight tank top underneath. The room was getting warmer, and not just from the heat of the game. The tension grew palpable as each player weighed their options: fold and risk embarrassment, or push on and hope for the win.

You felt your heart race as the game continued. With each round, the pile of clothing on the floor grew. Before you knew it, you were down to your last few pieces of clothing.

The next hand was dealt, and you picked up your cards with trembling hands. You had a good hand, but the idea of losing was now more than just about the game. You studied the faces around the table, looking for signs of who might be bluffing.

Morgan leaned in, his gaze intense. "You're looking a little flushed, Y/N," he teased. "Is it the game or the thought of what's next?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. The game had indeed taken a turn, and you found yourself in a situation you never would have imagined when you accepted the dinner invitation. You had continued playing, the excitement and the thrill of the game keeping you in your seat until you were down to just your bra, skirt, and panties.

The hand began, and you focused on your cards. You had a decent hand, but not a sure win. The betting went around the table, each person raising the stakes. You looked around, trying to read their faces, their body language, looking for any hint of what they might be hiding.

As the final round of bets were placed, you felt the weight of the moment. If you won this hand, you could keep your skirt on. If not, well, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You placed your bet, trying to keep your voice steady.

Morgan called, his smile never wavering. Prentiss folded, a knowing look in her eye. Spencer studied you closely, his cards held tight to his chest. Garcia bobbed in her chair, her curiosity and excitement palpable.

As the tension grew, so did the distraction of your state of undress. You noticed Spencer's eyes darting to your chest every few seconds, the effort he was making not to stare becoming more and more obvious. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of power at the sight of him so flustered. The others had also caught on. They knew Spencer's intense focus was split, and they hoped to use his distraction to their advantage.

The final card was flipped, and you watched in horror as Morgan revealed his winning hand. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, your heart sinking as you realized you had lost your last piece of lower body clothing. With a dramatic flourish, you stood and dropped your skirt to the floor.

Spencer's eyes traced down your legs, his cheeks reddening when he realized he'd been caught staring. He quickly looked away. The room fell silent for a moment before the laughter and clapping began again.

Others had invoked the truth or dare clause here and there, but you hadn't yet. Each time someone chose dare, it seemed to push the boundaries a little further. Garcia had to sing a karaoke song, JJ had to do a sexy dance, and Prentiss had to tell a steamy secret from her past. Each moment had been met with laughter and cheers, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the real fun was just getting started.

The next hand was dealt, and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized you had nothing. You didn't want to remove your bra, so you knew what you had to do. You took a deep breath and announced, "Dare." The room grew quiet, all eyes on you.

Morgan's grin grew wicked. "I dare Y/N to sit on Spencer's lap for the rest of the night." A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted around the table. Spencer's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks burning.

You felt your own cheeks rouge at the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. Being that close to Spencer, especially in your current state of half-dress, was both thrilling and terrifying. But the excitement of the game and the desire to keep playing overrode your nerves. You nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Fine."

Spencer's body moved back before he even had time to process the words. His chair scraped against the wooden floor, creating a sharp sound that echoed in the tension-filled room. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise and something else that you couldn't quite decipher.

You took a deep breath and slid onto his lap with more confidence than you felt. His body was tense beneath you, his muscles rigid as he held himself perfectly still. You could feel the heat from his body, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt and into you. Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might leap out of your chest.

The others smirked as they shuffled the cards for the next round. They could see the electric tension between you and Spencer, and it only added to the excitement of the game. Prentiss began to deal, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in the situation.

The next few rounds, Spencer's focus was undeniably scattered. His usual poker face was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a constant battle to not look at you sitting on his lap. His hands fumbled with his cards, and his bets were erratic. It didn't take long before the team noticed and capitalized on his distraction.

"Looks like someone's lost their mojo," Prentiss teased, placing her cards on the table with a smirk. You tried to ignore the smug looks from the others, focusing instead on the way Spencer's breath hitched every time you shifted slightly.

The next hand was dealt, and you could see the determination in Spencer's eyes as he picked up his cards. This time, you noticed the way his thumb brushed against your bare skin as he held his cards, and the electricity that shot through you was anything but calming.

You tried to keep your focus on the cards in your hand, but Spencer's proximity was making it near impossible. His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath you. You thought you had been careful hiding your cards, but apparently, not that careful.

"You're holding your cards too tight," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and gentle. "It's giving you away." You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into him slightly. His scent filled your nose and it made your head swim.

You took a deep breath and tried to loosen your grip, his words sinking in. The whispers continued, his breath warm against your neck as he pointed out small tells from the others at the table. His voice was a comforting rumble, guiding you through the game.

Slowly, the closeness didn't feel so awkward. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in having him so near. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist in a protective embrace.

As the game went on, Spencer's whispers grew more frequent. He noticed every little detail about the others' playing styles, sharing his insights with you in hushed tones. "Look at how Garcia's thumb is pressing down on her chips," he murmured. "She's bluffing." His voice was low and calming, his words of advice a secret shared between the two of you.

You followed his lead, and slowly, you saw your luck begin to change. You won a couple hands, the pile of chips in front of you growing. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the gentle guidance of his whispers had a surprising effect on you. You felt more relaxed, more confident. The daring glances and smiles you exchanged with him grew more frequent, hinting at the thrill you both felt.

Then it happened. As you readjusted yourself higher on his lap for better comfort, you felt it. The unmistakable pressure of Spencer's erection against your backside. A blush crept up your neck, and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His breath hitched, and you knew he was just as aware of it as you were. The room's temperature seemed to rise a few degrees.

You wondered how long he had been like that and how you hadn't noticed it before. His arm tightened around your waist, and you felt a low groan in his chest. You felt yourself start to get wet, the heat and the thrill of the moment making your body react despite the situation. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Without realizing it, your hips had begun to slightly rock against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his cock growing harder with every movement. The others at the table were too engrossed in the game to notice, but you were acutely aware of every little sound and sensation.

Spencer's breathing grew shallower. His hips made the tiniest of movements, pushing back into you in a silent bid for more. You bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it was getting harder by the second.

The game continued around you, but the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Each time his hips rocked against yours, it sent a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel your own breath quickening, your chest rising and falling more noticeably with every shallow breath.

You tried to keep your poker face, focusing on the cards in your hand, but it was difficult when you could feel his hardness pressing into you. Spencer's whispers grew softer, his voice a gentle rumble that made your skin tingle.

Suddenly, Garcia broke the spell, standing up from the table with a dramatic yawn. "Alright, I think I've had enough for tonight," she announced, her cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. "I'm going to crash in one of the guest rooms."

Her declaration created a domino effect. One by one, the others began to nod in agreement. The energy of the game dissipated as they all started to collect their scattered clothing. You felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as Spencer's arm loosened around your waist.

Reluctantly, you slid off Spencer's lap and began to gather your clothes from the floor. The fabric felt cold against your skin, which was now sensitive from his warmth. You couldn't help but feel the loss of his touch as you dressed, the excitement of the moment fading into a confusing mix of arousal and awkwardness.

"Thank you for a… memorable game," Spencer said, his voice strained as he stood up. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding yours.

You tried to ignore the wetness between your legs as you helped the others clean up, focusing on the mundane task of gathering the cards and chips. Your body was still humming with the tension that had built up during the daring rounds of poker. The room felt too small, too hot, as you tried to act like nothing had changed.

The group chattered about who would take which guest room, the conversation light and easy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment lingering in the air. The way Spencer's arm had felt around your waist, his erection pressing into you, was etched into your mind.

"Dibs on Morgan!" Garcia exclaimed, slapping a hand on Derek's arm playfully.

You laughed along with everyone else, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

"Alright, let's all head upstairs," Prentiss suggested, breaking the spell. "Three guest rooms, and we're all adults here."

You nodded, eager to escape the charged atmosphere, and followed the group up the stairs. You felt Spencer's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same things you were.

Without a word, Emily and JJ claimed the first room they saw. Garcia and Morgan didn't waste any time either, disappearing into the room across the hall. That left you and Spencer, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension as you both stared at the last guest room at the end of the hallway.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Spencer's eyes darted to the room before meeting yours. "Looks like we're sharing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of something that was definitely not disappointment.

With a sudden burst of courage, you grabbed his hand, your pulse quickening. He looked surprised but didn't resist as you led him to the last open guest room.

Once you closed the door, you pushed Spencer to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes widening as you straddled his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

"Do you want this?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all he saw was the same hunger reflected in his own.

"God yes," he replied, crashing his lips against yours with a fervour that stole your breath. The heat between you was undeniable as your bodies collided, his hands gripping your hips tightly. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could devour you whole.

You grind against his lap, happy to feel that he was still semi-hard. His grip on you tightened, and you could feel his cock growing harder with every movement of your hips. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, panting heavily. Spencer's eyes followed your every move as you stood up and began to strip away your clothing, until you were left in your underwear.

You sat back down onto his lap, this time with a sense of purpose, your legs straddling his. He groaned into your neck, his hands roaming over your bare skin as you kissed along his jawline. His touch was gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat wherever he went.

Spencer's fingers slid up the outside of your thighs, his touch feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through you. His grip tightened as they reached your ass, cupping you firmly. He pulled you closer, aligning your hips with his, and you gasped as his erection pressed against you.

You rocked back and forth, the friction building between your bodies. His breath was hot against your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone. You wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure grew.

Suddenly, the angle was just right. Your clit rubbed against his erection with just the right amount of friction, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The sensation was intense, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bit back a moan.

With every grind, you grew closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to stay in control. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, you climaxed, your body shuddering in his embrace.

Spencer watched you, his eyes hooded with lust. He could feel your wetness soaking through the fabric of your panties, and it was all he could do to keep from tearing them off.

With a surprising show of strength, Spencer picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You gasped as he laid you gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was desire mirrored back at him.

His hands traced the line of your underwear, his thumbs hooking under the waistband. Slowly, so painfully slow, he began to lower your panties. You watched as he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to the cool air of the room. Instead of tossing them aside, he folded the damp fabric and tucked it into his back pocket with a smirk.

He spread your legs wide, taking in the sight of you with a hunger that made you blush even deeper. His eyes roamed over your bare skin, lingering on your most sensitive spots. He leaned in, his breath hot against your folds, and you shivered.

Without further teasing, Spencer's tongue darted out, licking a slow path up your slit. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. He took his time, savouring the taste of you. His tongue was soft and insistent, lapping at your clit and dipping into your entrance.

You grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets, your back arching off the mattress as he worked you into a frenzy. The feeling of his mouth on you was heavenly, his skilled tongue flicking and pressing in just the right places. You were so close, your body tightening in anticipation of another orgasm.

But just as you were about to tip over the edge again, Spencer paused, leaving you panting and desperate. He slid a finger into your wetness, and you could feel him smiling against your skin as he found your g-spot with ease. The addition of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your legs quiver.

As his tongue danced over your clit, his fingers began to move inside you in a rhythm that was both torturous and heavenly. He knew exactly how to hit that spot, his movements measured and precise, as if he had studied your body's every response. You moaned, your body begging for more as he continued to explore you with his mouth.

Spencer's mouth grew more urgent, his tongue lapping and sucking on your clit messily. He was too desperate to care about the wet sounds he was making, too lost in the taste of you to be self-conscious. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, and you gasped, your nails digging into his scalp as you held him in place.

He could feel your orgasm building, the way your muscles tightened around his fingers. With one final, deliberate thrust, he pushed you over the edge, his tongue never leaving your clit as you came hard against his mouth.

As your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, you felt a surge of energy rather than exhaustion. The orgasm had been so intense that it seemed to have recharged you. Without warning, you sprang up from the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you turned to face Spencer.

You reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer's eyes widened, his gaze drinking in the sight of your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air.

Standing before him, you began to strip Spencer of his clothes. Once down to his last article of clothing you knelt before Spencer, your eyes never leaving his as you gripped the waistband of his boxers. His eyes darkened with anticipation as you began to pull them down his legs, revealing his cock, which stood at full attention. Your heart raced as you took in the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making your own body respond in kind.

You reached out and gently touched his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it. Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you explored his length with curious fingers. The tip was wet with pre-cum, and you couldn't resist leaning in to taste him. Your tongue flicked out, a soft and tentative touch that made him jerk in surprise.

Encouraged, you took him fully into your mouth, his length stretching your lips wide. You could feel his hands tighten in your hair as you began to suck, your mouth moving in a steady rhythm. Spencer moaned, his hips forward to meet your eager mouth. You took him deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You paused for a moment to adjust, then took him as far as you could, holding yourself there and swallowing around his tip. The sensation was overwhelming for Spencer, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hips bucked slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you could feel his muscles tightening beneath your fingertips.

Finally, you pulled off of him, licking your lips to catch the last drops of his arousal. Looking him in the eye, you whispered, "Use me." It was a simple request, but it held a world of meaning. You wanted him to take control, to show you the full extent of his power over you.

Without hesitation, Spencer grabbed the hair at the back of your head and guided his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him. He began to move his hips, fucking into your mouth with a gentle rhythm that grew more urgent with every passing stroke. His grip on your hair tightened.

Your eyes peered up at him, watering slightly from the effort to keep up with his pace. You could see the desire in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide with lust. It was a heady feeling, knowing you had this powerful, intelligent man at your mercy, reduced to a trembling mess by your touch.

But Spencer had other plans. He pulled out of your mouth with a soft groan, his hand still tangled in your hair. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky. "I want to feel you first."

With surprising strength, he offered you a hand and pulled you up from the floor. Your legs were shaky, but he held you steady. You climbed onto the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath your knees. You positioned yourself on all fours, the soft mattress sinking slightly with your weight.

You dropped from your hands to your elbows, arching your back and sticking your ass up in the air. You couldn't help but wiggle your hips back and forth, a silent invitation to Spencer.

He moaned at the sight, his eyes glazed over with desire. He scrambled onto the bed behind you. His hand reached out to cup your ass cheeks, the heat of his palms searing into your skin.

Spencer spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the glistening wetness that leaked from your swollen entrance. His groan was low and guttural, a sound that sent a thrill of pleasure through your body. His thumbs traced slow circles around your opening, teasing your sensitive flesh.

With agonizing slowness, you felt the tip of his cock nudge against you. He pushed in gently, the head of his erection parting your folds. You gasped, your muscles clenching around the unyielding intrusion. Spencer waited, giving you a moment to adjust.

Inch by inch, he filled you up, his cock stretching you deliciously. You could feel every ridge and vein, his length sliding deep within you until you were fully impaled. He didn't move for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled.

Then, once he felt you relax, Spencer set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against your ass. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the rhythmic slapping echoing off the walls.

You whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sensation. It was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't want it to stop. Spencer's hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you back onto him with each thrust.

The scent of sex and desire filled the room as he claimed you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the wetness of your pussy. Each time he pushed into you, your nipples scraped against the soft cotton of the bed sheets. The friction was maddening, making your already sensitive breasts feel like they were on fire.

Spencer's hands moved to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he adjusted his angle. He threw his weight into each thrust, the force of his hips pushing you further into the bed with every movement.

Then he slid one hand down your body, his fingertips skimming over your stomach and pausing when they reached the apex of your thighs. He found your clit, swollen and sensitive from his earlier attention, and began to rub it in gentle circles.

The combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit was too much. You felt yourself climbing again, the pleasure building to a crescendo. You began to moan, the sound muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in.

Spencer leaned over, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you like that?" he whispered. "Do you like it when I fuck you like this?" He grunts out.

You nodded, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. His whispers grew more explicit, describing every little sensation he felt, every way your body was responding to his. "You're so tight, so wet for me," he continues. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight."

With each thrust, he whispered about his desire for you, how long he had fantasized about this moment. "I've wanted to fuck you like this for so long," he groaned. "To feel you this way, to hear you like this." His words were like a drug, leaving you craving more.

"Remember when you were on my lap downstairs?" Spencer panted, his hips never slowing. "How badly I wanted to rip your panties off and bury my cock inside you?"

You moaned, his words painting a vivid picture in your mind. The thought of him wanting you that badly, of him fighting his urges while everyone else played the game, was an aphrodisiac.

As Spencer whispered about how he had imagined watching you bounce on his cock in the middle of the poker game, your orgasm crashed over you. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, the muscles spasming with pleasure.

It was wet and messy, your juices coating his cock with each withdrawal, only to be pushed back in with a slick sound on his next thrust. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal, and the scent of sex grew stronger.

You felt your body tightening around him, your pussy pulsing with each stroke. Your orgasm was still fresh, but the relentless pace Spencer had set had you spiraling towards another peak. His breath was hot and ragged against your ear, his whispers of filthy confessions only fuelling the fire within you.

As Spencer spoke of his fantasies, his hand never ceased its torment of your clit. The pleasure grew unbearable, your body a live wire. Then, as if on cue, another orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake uncontrollably. You cry out, your voice a high-pitched whine.

His thrusts grew erratic, his own need for release becoming apparent. You felt your pussy flutter around his cock, the walls tightening and releasing in time with your racing heartbeat. It was this feeling, the tightness and the warmth of you, that pushed Spencer over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could go. You felt his cock twitching, and then the warm flood of his cum filled your pussy. He groaned your name, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you, his orgasm intense and uncontrollable. The sensation was intoxicating.

Panting, you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies entangled in a mess of limbs. You clung to him, your chest rising and falling in time with his, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. Spencer's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if afraid to let go. You felt his heart racing beneath your cheek. You were both thoroughly exhausted, the passionate frenzy leaving you drained yet content.

After a moment, you lifted your head and met his gaze. His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a silent question hanging in the air. You offered a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. The tension dissipated, replaced by a gentle warmth.

As your breathing evened out, you leaned in to capture his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. The taste of yourself still lingered on his lips. Spencer's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders, the feel of his skin smooth and warm beneath your fingertips. He mirrored your movements, his touch gentle and exploratory, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

Spencer's lips trailed down your neck, peppering kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You nuzzled closer to him, your breathing slowing as the weight of sleep began to claim you. "With how loud we were, we're definitely sneaking out before the others wake up, right?" you whispered against his skin.

He chuckled, the vibration running through you. "Right," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. You could feel his smile against your shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the gentle pressure lulling you closer to slumber.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Loud

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You and Mapi have always been loud

*TW: referenced sexual content*

It starts off with you and Mapi.

You’d grown up together, fallen in love under the slide at school when Mapi pushed over annoying Matty P for pulling on your pigtails. She’d been your knight in…well not really shining armour but definitely your knight in shining shoes.

You did everything together. Eating. Sleeping. Playing football.

You were attached at the hip and then Ingrid came along.

A tall Norwegian woman who had your jaw falling to the ground and Mapi nearly walking into a pole.

Opening up your relationship wasn’t new to the pair of you. At first, it had just been sex but sex spiralled into a third in the relationship and that usually ended up in a breakup.

But not with Ingrid.

You’d opened up your bed for her, already weak at the knees the moment she took her clothes on and very bluntly told you and Mapi to put on a show for her.

And you’d certainly done that.

You’d put on enough of a show that she’d taken you both that night, in all the positions you liked and ended it all with you and Mapi holding hands over Ingrid’s stomach as you lazily kissed while your heads rested on her chest, her hands gently stroking both of your hairs.

And, like always, sex spiralled into a relationship but the breakup never came.

Ingrid fit so perfectly into you life and your relationship, adored by you, Mapi and Bagheera. Two princesses in the house to spoil and love, although one of them never got to travel with you much to everyone’s disappointment.

“You’ve got something there!” Mapi declares, her voice booming loudly across the dining hall and you look up from your plate.

You were deep in discussion with some of the others but you stop immediately to turn to look at Mapi.

Your table is nearly full, just one seat empty next to you. Ingrid sits on your other side, talking softly to Frido while Esmee and Aitana talk next to them and Alexia and Irene sit opposite.

“What?!” You yell back.

Mapi’s across the room from you, still at the buffet and trying to fill up her plate with food that looks like it’s going to tumble onto the floor any minute now.

“You’ve got something on your face!” Mapi replies, her voice just as loud and clear as before.

You frown, wiping your face with a napkin but seeing no kind of staining as you pull it away. You frown.

“Did I get it?!”

Mapi doesn’t even need to come closer to answer. “No!”

“Where is it?!”

“Do you have to yell?” Irene gripes good-naturedly but you and Mapi are so loud that you don’t even register her talking.

A hand grips your chin though. Ingrid’s slender fingers angle your face towards her and you go willingly. She moves your face around, eyes narrowed as she tries to see what Mapi had so clearly seen from across the room.

“There’s nothing,” Ingrid says, leaning forward to press a flutter of kisses onto your lips,” I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Mapi’s silly,” You agree.

“Mapi’s loud,” You hear Frido complain.

“They’re both loud,” Ingrid says over her shoulder though her eyes stay on you.

You fight to keep the blush off your face.

You and Mapi are both loud, something Ingrid is intimately familiar. You’re loud on the pitch and off the pitch and definitely in bed, though the only other person in the team that knows that is Ingrid.

She seemed to thrive on it, to make you and Mapi moan louder and louder. She took it as a challenge, to string as much pleasure out of both of you until you’re just a crescendo trying to come back down.

But nobody else knew that was what Ingrid was referencing and you fight to keep your face turning bright red.

Ingrid’s hand drops from your face to take your own under the table and you smile as you pick your fork up again.

“I haven’t got anything on my face!” You tell Mapi as she sits down next to you. “Hey! Don’t take my food!”

You swat at Mapi’s grabby hands but Ingrid’s tug on your other one has you stopping.

“Sharing is caring!” Mapi laughs and you stick your tongue out,” And you’ve still got it on your face.”

“I haven’t got anything on my face!”

Mapi leans closer and crashes her lips against yours.

“You had my lips on your face,” She teases, tapping your nose with her finger,” I could see them from a mile away!”

You laugh at that, the head thrown back kind of laugh as you and Mapi snicker together. Even Ingrid, consistently the quietest member of your relationship, lets out a little chuckle.

“Come on,” Irene groans,” You’re telling me you enjoyed that?”

“Mapi’s jokes are funny!” You defend, still laughing and Irene rolls her eyes fondly.

Honestly, you thought she would be used to Mapi’s antics by now but Irene likes to pretend to be surprised every time.

“I will never get your sense of humour,” Is what Irene decides on as a response.

“You can always ignore us!” Mapi says with a rbight smile and Irene rolls her eyes again.

“No one can ignore you two. You’re both so loud.”

“Actually, I have to talk to you about your loudness,” Alexia says, one of the few things she’s said this morning before finishing her coffee,” It kept us all up last night.”

Ingrid’s hand squeezes yours and you almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Look, I don’t care what card game you were playing but can we stop playing so late at night? I get you guys are competitive but those walls are thick and I could still kind of here you guys going at it.”

You and Mapi exchange panicked looks. For once, you’re both speechless, mouths opening and closing as you try to think of something to say.

“Don’t worry, Alexia,” Ingrid says, her hand still holding yours,” I’ll keep them both a bit quieter tonight. You know how they get.”

Oh, Alexia didn’t know the half of it.

“Thank you, Ingrid,” You captain says,” At least you can keep those two in line.”

“Of course.”

Mapi coughs a little bit, speaking under her breath so only you can hear as you exchange secret smiles. “Ingrid’s the one keeping us loud.”

[miryum]

An arranged marriage with James Potter

Something had happened over the summer that made James Potter the most love-sick fool in all of Hogwarts. Purebloods being purebloods, it wasn’t uncommon for children to be paired up early on to secure the bloodline. While this happened mostly between the old-arching Slytherin families, an example being Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, every once in a while, the other houses would participate too. 

Such was the case with James Potter and Y/n L/n. The L/n’s had spanned generations, stretching back to even the Gaunt’s time. But, such as the Gaunt family, the L/n family had run into some bad luck. Stocks didn’t go the way they wanted or something of the sort and now they were in ruining trouble. 

Euphemia Potter was usually one to scoff at arranged marriages, wanting the children to find love for themselves, blood status be damned. However, the L/n’s were good friends of hers and James had written home multiple times about their daughter. From his letters, it seemed as if the two were already dating. It was a perfect coincidence. Euphemia and Fleamont agreed instantly, lifting the weight of a thousand bricks off of the patriarch of the L/n household. 

However, James and Y/n were not dating. Much to James’ annoyance, the only thing between them was his unrequited infatuation towards Y/n. 

So that’s where the pair found themselves at the beginning of seventh year. Y/n L/n trying to fly under the radar and not draw any attention to herself or the new ring on her finger, and James Potter doing everything in his power to show off their relationship and spoil her in front of everyone. 

It began at the start of the year feast. James had an arm around Y/n’s shoulder the entire time. When a third year nervously asked if the two were dating, staring reverently up at James, the boy grinned and looked to Y/n. “I don’t know, love, are we?”

Y/n pushed James’ arm off her shoulder and indelicately said, “no. Take him.” The third year blushed and mumbled their way out of the conversation as James clutched his wounded heart.

During classes, James would loudly correct the professors from Miss. L/n to Mrs. Potter. It earned him wry smiles from McGonagall and Sprout, chuckles from Slughorn and Flitwick, and a cold glare from Y/n. The students all looked a bit confused whenever this happened, but chalked it up to the usual antics of James Potter. 

In the courtyard or by the Black Lake, James would lay his head on Y/n’s lap, even if she pushed him off or was sitting with her knees up. There were roses on her bed and notes in her bag and it got to the point where Y/n didn’t even question how James had snuck into her dorm. 

If Y/n ever went to Hogsmead, James was sure to follow. No matter what she bought, he would pay for. Even if she got frustrated, he would slip the galleons up onto the counter, grinning at the cashier. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her and give her a nice home. As she would walk from shop to shop, he would point out colours of shops, saying, “oh, that would be a good colour for our bathroom. Look at that little cuckoo clock! Y/n, we have to get it.”

He would follow wherever she went, asking what seemed like meaningless questions. Have you ever had any pets? Do you like the country or city better? Any aspirations for your career? What’s a place you always wanted to visit? Y/n thought nothing of it, but to James, her answers were slowly sculpting his future. Would she want a dog or a cat in our home? Where should our house be? I would like the country so our kids could run around more, but we can easily make the city work if she wants. Should I be a stay-at-home dad? Or could we juggle two careers? Where should our honeymoon be? 

Quidditch games were no better, because after every goal the chaser scored – and he scored a lot – he would look to the stands, find his fianc��e, and blow her a kiss. Before every match, one of his spare jerseys would be laid out on her bed, a small note attached, begging her to wear it. She never did and he always gave her a pout when he realised it. And God forbid she didn’t go to the games. Once, she had been studying for an upcoming exam and hadn’t been able to make it. James had thrown a fit. Sirius had to drag him away from Madame Hooch before he secured an entire year of detention, but the boy still refused to get in the air. Madame Hooch threatened to start the game and make Gryffindor play a catcher down, but thankfully Remus and Peter had just found Y/n and dragged her to the pitch. The moment James saw her, he beamed and kicked off, broom now in the air. They had ended up winning. James spent the afterparty with his head on Y/n’s lap, arms reaching up to encircle her waist. He continuously reminded her how awful it would’ve been if she hadn’t shown up and only shut up when she began running her fingers through his hair.

And every night, no matter if he went to bed first or she did, James would always go over to Y/n and give her a soft kiss on the forehead and a whispered, “sweet dreams.” No matter where she was, this became a daily occurance in Y/n’s life. At first, she tried to avoid it by sneaking off to the library whenever James began yawning and tossing around the idea of going to bed. But he would find her. She tried the kitchens, hoping he didn’t think to look for her there. But he would find her. She tried being in a group with her friends, in animated conversations. But he would weave his way through the group, step in front of her, and still say goodnight. It was like he had this magical map that told him where she was at all times. It was bloody infuriating. 

Much to James’ dismay, no progress seemed to be made. At least she was staying faithful to her fiancé, the Marauders reassured him as James griped and moaned. He would sling himself onto a common room chair, conveniently in the earshot of his dearest. Y/n would just roll her eyes. 

The majority of Hogwarts didn’t know what to do with them. The girls would swoon when they heard the new thing James Potter had come up with to woo Y/n L/n. The boys would huff and grumble about needing to step up their own game when it came to their girlfriends. James was setting the bar too high. The teachers would sit around, taking time to sip a well-deserved drink, as they complained how if L/n didn’t soon see the boy that was right in front of her, helpless to his love, then Potter was going to have a breakdown.

Yet, Y/n continued to push him away. James could be patient. He had been waiting practically seven years – he could wait a little more, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt whenever she brushed him off. She could’ve said no to the engagement. She could’ve punched or hexed him. It didn’t seem like she truly hated him, more like she was embarrassed and tired of him. 

“I don’t get it,” James said finally one night. He laid out on his bed, long limbs stretching over the place as Peter and Sirius played Exploding Snap on the floor. 

Remus was reading on his own bed. The werewolf sighed, knowing where this was going. “What don’t you get, Prongs?” 

“Why doesn’t Y/n like me?” James murmured, looking at his friends with large, hurt eyes. 

“Mate,” Sirius said. One of the cards exploded, making Peter flinch. “Listen. She likes you, yeah? How else are you able to get close to her? I swear, you were practically on top of her a couple days ago.” He scoffed and laid down a card. 

James groaned loudly and exclaimed, “but I’ve tried everything! Hell, we’re literally engaged! I can’t go through an entire marriage like this. Especially not with the woman I love.”

Peter piped up, smiling sincerely at James. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll realise it soon enough. I think she loves you back. She’s just scared.”

“But I’m me!” James shouted out. “I’m not scary!” He looked around wildly at his friends. “Am I?” he asked pathetically.

“I think if you have to ask if you’re scary,” Remus pointed out, “then you’re not scary.”

Sirius grinned. “Excellent point, as always, Moony.”

Remus sighed and gave James a pointed look. “Perhaps, the best thing to do is talk to her. Since she is your future wife, after all.” 

“I do talk to her!” James argued. “I ask her about her day and tell her about our pranks. She- she responds. She’s very sweet, you know, but she never shows any affection.”

“Maybe you’re pressuring her,” Peter commented. “By being all lovey-dovey. You could try being her friend first?”

James didn’t think he could do that. He already thought of Y/n as his wife. He already thought of her as one of his best friends. But what else could he do to get her to feel the same way?

The next week, James took Peter’s words into consideration. Instead of leaving flowers in her dorm, James asked if he could join her in the library for a study session. Instead of blowing her kisses during Quidditch games, he just waved. Instead of envisioning their future, he focused on the present. 

It wasn’t until three weeks had passed that James noticed the results. Y/n began coming to him with some questions on schoolwork. Y/n waved back at Quidditch games, shooting him a thumbs up in encouragement. Y/n wouldn’t fiddle with her engagement ring nervously, as if worried someone would spot it. 

The girl noticed her changed behaviour too. On a random Thursday, when James came to kiss her goodnight, she paused her conversation and whispered back, “sleep well,” angling her body so he wouldn’t have to reach as far to kiss her temple. Soon after, she excused herself from her friends, flustered. Y/n paced around her dorm, twisting the ring back and forth. 

A knock came at the door. “Hey,” James murmured as he pushed open the door. “Are you okay?”

Y/n turned to face him. “You actually care about me, don’t you?” she whispered. 

James couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course,” he replied. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

She shrugged. “It seemed fake, you know? Like this one big prank to single me out. But then you actually seemed excited and willing to marry me, James. Marriage. This is the rest of our lives and we haven’t even kissed!”

James cracked a smirk. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can fix that really easily.”

“But you think you’re in this for the long run?” Y/n asked desperately. “For- for the fights? The late nights? The chores? And we haven’t even talked if we want kids or not!”

“Love,” he interrupted her spiral. “Have you thought about the waking up every morning in my arms? The dancing in the kitchen for no reason? The anniversary dinners where I profess my love over and over again?” He stepped forward, placing his warm hands on her arms soothingly. “And if you want, I would love to have mini replicas of us running around, waking us up in the middle of the night because of a night terror. I would love for them to disrupt our dancing in the kitchen by demanding they want to dance too. And I would love for them to groan when they see me being all sappy towards my wife.”

How could any girl say no when James Potter was standing before her, promising her endless devotion? The kiss was slow, James’ lips slowly moving against hers. He revelled in the warmth of her body and how her head tilted to him as he cupped her cheek gently. All short and lovely and sweet, the kisses were exactly how James had dreamed. 

The couple parted and the boy stared down at her. His finger went up to brush her bottom lip before murmuring, “will you marry me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

[itneverendshere]

reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there

okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3

wash the sins out of that house - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate. 

Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.

Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.

It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back. 

Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.

He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”

“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.”He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his. 

You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”

You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.

Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.

He’d hurt people. Done things.

But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.

The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.

Who the hell?

You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.

“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”

Your dad? That was your dad?

Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this. 

Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.

Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”

He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”

You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.

Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.

“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”

He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”

“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”

He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.

You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”

Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.

Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”

That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.

No one talked to you ike that. No one.

He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.

“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”

Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.

He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.

Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"

The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.

You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.

He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.

“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”

Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.

“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”

You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.

“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”

You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.

This though? You never wanted him to find out. 

But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.

“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”

Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.

Not yet.

“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. 

You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.

Maybe that’s why you worked.

But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.

“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”

He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.

 “This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”

“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”

You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”

You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.

Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.

Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.

Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.

Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.

“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”

Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.

The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.

“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup. 

Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.

Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.

“Hey, Rafey, can we go to the park after this?”

You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.

He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”

Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, remember?”

He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.

Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”

Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”

You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”

You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”

“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”

You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”

Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”

“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”

Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”

You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.

[cherriesformatt]

you belong with me || matt sturniolo

mattxfem!reader

summary: reader is in love with matt but he has a bitchy ass girlfriend so she is just there for him every time he needs a friend

warnings: angst, fluff, a bit sad, kiss

word count: 1,5k

a/n: hi it's a first day of autumn! did not proof read yet

🍒

I walked in to my best friend's house as we were supposed to hang out this evening but as I walked up to the living room I heard some voices from his room. Sounded like he was on a phone walking around his room.

"I told you we were hanging out today, I saw you this morning and we went shopping. I did not see y/n for a week!" I heard Matt say.

His voice and tone told me him and Ginny were arguing again. About me. Again.

I sight and I already knew that our plan to hang out will go to hell because he will go and apologize to her. Thats how it was for a past 5 months of their dating.

It is not that I do not like her. I want Matt to be happy. I just feel like she is not what is good for him. She does not even know him and they have nothing in common. I do not even know how this whole thing happened.

When I saw him walking into the kitchen as I was sitting at the table I smiled lightly.

"Hi, I brought the coloring books we got last month and some snacks" I said.

"I-I am sorry y/n can we do it another day? I have to.."He looked at me with sad eyes.

"you have to go to see Ginny, I know. It is fine, 'course we can do it another time" I made myself to smile at him.

He not and juts turned around and left. Just like that. I left the bag with stuff I brought and let myself out as I closed the door behind me.

On Friday Nick asked me to come to one of the parties they have been invited to and I agreed. He told me I can wear whatever and that the party is at Jake's house. So nothing that fancy. I put my low rise jeans on and ransom baby tee that I got from Matt. I did my makeup as I usually do and left my hair down. I put on my sneakers and left my house to go and meet my friends at their house so we could take one car.

"Finally..." I heard Ginny sight as I walked into their living room.

"Hi, we can go, sorry there was a bit of a traffic" I said and smiled when I saw everyone.

"Are you going to change?" Ginny asked me and I looked at her questioningly.

"No? This is what I am wearing" I said and she only nod and took her purse.

She had on a very short dress and pair of platforms and her hair was done nicely as well as her makeup. She looked good, she always did. But the way she was always dressed was not my style at all.

"You look great, kid. Do not listen to her, your fit is fire" Chris said guilty to me as we were walking down to the garage. I looked back at him and just smiled to thank him.

"Can we play new carti's song? It's so good" I said to Matt as I lean in to the front seat. I was seating next to Nick in the back and Chris was seating behind us. Matt and Ginny were in the front.

"No, we're listening to my music" Ginny said and I looked at Chris as he looked at me. None of us liked her music taste.

Few days later Matt asked me to go for a midnight walk with him as we used to do all the time. I was so happy to finally spend time with him. He came to my house and we went out. We were talking and laughing and it felt as I did not see his smile for so long. My favorite smile of all.

"Matt are you okay?" I asked looking at him.

"Yes, why? Of course I am" He said and I nod.

Of course he was. He loved her.

"I need to tell you what dreams I had the other nigh.. I told Ginny but she always say my dreams are fucked up" He said.

I smile because we always were telling each other about dreams we had. I could listen to him for hours. And so I did.

After he walked me back and was about to go. He hugged me so tight that I almost gasped. I wrapped my arms around him and gently crossed his back.

"I missed this...spending time with you. I am so sorry y/n, I was bad friend" He said and stepped away a bit still holding me. I looked at his eyes and I swear I felt like his face was getting closer to mine.

"No worries Matt, all good. I am glad we could spend time now" I said and then he moved away. I wished he did not.

We said goodnights and he left. As I walked in to my room all the emotions I've been holding just left my body. I cried myself to sleep that night. I just wished I was the one that was making him happy.

I have been so busy with school and my job that I released two week passed from when I last time hang out with Nick, Chris or Matt. We have been texting on the group chat that we had since high school but Matt was pretty quiet on it.

I was finishing my shift as I saw Nick calling me. Nick never calls. I picked up.

"Everything okay?" I asked straight away.

"Not really. They broke up. I think he needs you. He won't talk to us" Nick said and my heart broke thinking of Matt not feeling well.

I drove straight to their house from the coffee store I worked at. I was still wearing my uniform. I wanted to be there as quick as I could. I walked in to the house holding a bag of pastries and trey off hot coco.

"Hi, is he in his room?" I asked as I saw Nick and Chris in the kitchen.

"Yes, thanks for coming here" Nick said.

"Of course, here thats for you" I gave them one bag and two cups with chocolate drink.

"Thank you y/n" Chris smiled and rubbed my arm. I nod and took a deep breath as I walked to his doors.

I knocked on it lightly.

"Come in" I heard so I did.

I looked around and Matt was laying on his bed. He was on his side and his head was laying on the pumpkin stuffy he got recently.

"Hi...Ho are you?" I asked and took a seat next to him.

"I brought you hot coco and your favorite donut" I said putting it on the shelf next to his bed.

"Better now... that you are here" He said and he moved and he put his head on my lap. My heart felt like it is going to explode. I sight and I gently started to scratch his head as I knew he liked. And I felt him relax. I smiled looking down at him. He looked like a big baby.

"She was not worth you" I whispered.

"I know" He simply said and that got me surprised.

"That is not why I have been sad. Honestly from the begging I knew she was not it. I mean we never really even had anything to do together. Every time I spent time with her I was thinking about talking to...well you" He said quietly and moved away.

He brought his body up to so he was now sitting in front of me.

"I am sorry y/n, this past two weeks.. All I could think about was how happy I felt on that walk with you how happy you made me feel how she never did" He said.

"And I know... I messed up so bed but... I wanna fix it... I want all of this again.. I want you... I want you more than a friend... I want..." He started but I just could not wait any longer. I grabbed his face and lean in to kiss him.

It felt like I was waiting for this moment for eternity of time. Cartwheels in my stomach were going crazy when he kissed me back. I tangle my hand back into his hair as I let him take control of the kiss.

When we moved away with heavy breaths I smiled at him. He brushed my hair out of my face and smiled as well.

"I was so scared you won't feel the same" He said.

"Well then you must be blind because I was feeling this way since we were 18" I said and he lean in to kiss my temple.

"What can I do to reward you my stupid behavior?" He asked and I smiled.

"Can we finally color the books that I brought you?" I asked and he laughed.

"Yes... you go change and I will get all the stuff" He said and smiled so bright at me that I felt like whole world disappeared for me and there was only him.

[hxney-lemcn]

Time for a Break — Housewardens x gn! reader

summery: it's the end of the year and you have nowhere to go...

tw: slight angst (Riddle, Idia, Malleus)

wc: 1.7k (~230 per character)

Master List

With nonstop overblots, exams, homework, studying, and keeping your friends in line, you hadn’t even realized that the end of the year was approaching rapidly. You could barely take in your end of the year grades before coming face to face with the fact that you have nowhere to go while everyone gets a summer break. Didn’t you deserve a break too? You felt like you were going to collapse and evaporate if you didn’t sleep in a bed that doesn’t have lumps. In a fit of despair, you go to the only person you can think of.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay…so you are not allowed to come home with him. His reason for saying no is vastly different from his mothers reason. He doesn’t want to cause you any more stress, or have to hear his mother’s insults that she’ll inevitably spout towards you. No, instead he helps you ask Trey. Although Trey’s home already is a full house, his family welcomes you with open arms. All his siblings overcrowd you (no matter how much Trey tries to stop them), his parents ask many questions to get to know you better, and you end up sharing a room with Trey. All the while, you can’t help but think about Riddle, wishing you could find a way to get him out of his own personal hell. Over time, you and Trey visit Riddle, your only meetings being through his window. Every so often you’d bring Riddle a sweet treat that you learned how to bake either from Trey or his parents. As much as you enjoy having a break with such a lovely family, you can’t help wanting for the next school year to happen. Not for the school work, or the overblots (hopefully there won’t be any the upcoming year), but because you’ll get to see Riddle again, not through a window or with hushed whispers. But in person, speaking to each other freely once more. 

Leona Kingscholar

When you hinted about not having anywhere to go, hoping that the lion would take the bait and let you stay with him, he just ignored you. Didn’t even pretend to act like he was listening to you. Squinting your eyes, you stood up from his bed, announcing that Malleus might be willing to take you in…you couldn’t get far before Leona grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and holding you close. Who said you could go and stay with that overgrown lizard? Wasn’t it obvious you were staying with him? You were scared of meeting his family, they were royalty and Leona had spoken bad of them. You had met his nephew, and little did you know that the boy had talked his parents ear off about you and Leona for a day before finding a new topic. Leona’s brother and sister in law welcomed you to their palace with open arms, greeting you warmly before excusing themselves. It was a bit to get used to, trying new foods, sleeping in a bed that was way too luxurious, being treated like royalty, becoming a nanny…yeah. You now realized one of the reasons why Leona dreaded coming back. As much as you adored Cheka…he could be a bit much. Overall, it's not the worst place to stay, but it would feel a bit lonely without Leona or Cheka around. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Oh boy…were you both that far in your relationship already? No? He’s just overthinking it? Okay, this was fine. He was a host after all, and he did owe you for basically saving his life…and being the one he loved. His only problem? His mother. As much as Azul loved his mother…he could not have her sharing his baby photos with you. He’ll have to work overtime over the summer to make sure that doesn’t happen (who is he kidding he can’t say no to his mom). How are you going to stay entire months under water? Who do you think he is? He’s got stocks of underwater breathing potions. When you meet his parents, you don’t have time to think before you’re swooped into a giant hug (probably the best damn hug you’ll ever get too). Then Azul is added to the hug and you're both being squished together. His mother loves you instantly, cooing over you both, feeding you some of the best food you’ve ever had while telling you embarrassing stories of Azul when he was just a little fry. Once again, you start seeing him in a new light, a much softer and loving one. He always tried to show you his gentlemanly and suave side, keeping just how soft of a person he was locked deep down, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Kalim Al-Asim

What do you mean you have nowhere to go? Weren’t you coming to his place? He would be honored to have you as a guest! Just think of all the sleepovers, dates, game nights, and kisses! Actually, he might’ve gone crazy if he was away from you for such a long time. Kalim’s family doesn’t mind either, they don’t even notice one more person in their extravagant palace. Instead of just being swarmed with siblings, you’ve got cousins and distant relatives around you as well. They have both good and bad intentions, some scheming on how to get closer to Kalim, and others scheming on how to get you to play hide and seek. Kalim is practically bouncing off the walls as he drags you down the halls on his grandiose tour. Laughing heartily over the feast his family calls dinner, then taking you on a breathtaking carpet ride above the Scalding Sands. Each day is a different adventure, and Kalim is the one leading you hand in hand into what awaits you both. Poor Jamil, Kalim only got ten times more impulsive as he tries to show you everything he loves (and buy you anything you eye for a second too long). Also…you are in a bit of danger being seen in public so close to Kalim and with how he shows how much he cares about you…

Vil Schoenheit

Do you think he’d let you stay at Night Raven College for months on end without supervision? You’re crazy. Just be prepared to be in a giant mansion alone for a bit. Vil goes without seeing his father for weeks on end, and he himself has a busy schedule. He’d love to take you with him, but unfortunately the media is as savage as a pack of wolves and would shred you apart without second thought. You didn’t mind too much, as long as you could get away from school for just a minute. With those warnings in mind, you were surprised to be greeted by servants taking your luggage to a spare room (right next to Vil’s) then being treated to a fantastic dinner with Eric, Vil’s father joining you two. Even Vil seemed surprised, asking his father about his latest movie. Eric only laughed, stating that he wanted to meet the person who caught his son's attention. You never felt too alone in the mansion, you’d get ready in the morning with Vil, seeing him off, doing your own thing for the day, and ending the night with a home prepared meal or going out to eat if Vil was feeling extra. On his days off, Vil would take you out, sometimes it would be to a spa, going shopping, or you forcing him to take a break and relax at home and watch some movies. You don’t think you could go back to that wack job of a school after getting a taste of luxury.

Idia Shroud

What. You want to go home with him? You do know where he lives right? You’d be totally isolated from all your other friends…you still want to come home with him? He supposes Ortho would be happy to have you around…fine, he just doesn’t like how excited his parents get when he asks for permission (after all he lives in a very secret location). He’s a bit overwhelmed at first, it seems like such an intimate scenario. You’re going to be living with him in the same house in a super secret base in the middle of nowhere. When you arrive, Idia tries not to shove you into his room and lock the door because his parents are non stop pestering you. Asking you about how you met Idia, how he was doing, and about you and your world. Thankfully for Idia, they had to rush back to work quickly, giving you a warm welcome and telling you to ask for anything if need be. To your surprise, Idia watched you like a hawk (and that’s the times you knew of). S.T.Y.X. was a dangerous place, and he’d be damned if he lost you like he lost Ortho. Be prepared to be trapped in a room lit with blue led lights and playing video games and watching anime until you feel your brain melting. Please bring some vitamin D…you’re not going to get enough sunlight. 

Malleus Draconia

Don’t worry child of man, he already has a room in his palace ready for you. Do you really think he was going to let you stay all alone (with Grim but okay) at Night Raven College? Of course not. You’re his precious child of man, he’ll make sure you get nothing but the best. Of course…he had to make sure his grandmother warmed up to you. You are a human after all, and she hasn’t had the best experience with them. Not to mention how his people will view him for bringing a commoner human into the castle and given the royal treatment. He doesn’t care. In fact, Malleus didn’t even think of such a thing, not until Sebek brought it up. When you arrived you felt overwhelmed as the servants bowed (you almost forgot that Malleus was standing next to you). He tried staying by your side for as long as he could, but as future king, he had many things to attend to. This left you on your own a bit, and you got acquainted with Maleficia. At first she terrified you, but over time you both warmed up to each other and Malleus found himself jealous with how much time you spent with her compared to him. All the while she found it amusing that her grandson was so hung up on a human…but she also found it heartbreaking. A fae falling for a human never had a happy ending, but she’s glad to know you’d take care of him well.

[yuuuhiii]

yandere themes, knife usage, mdni

a/n: I need to stop watching Dexter (*´ー｀*)

He loved you so so much. His beautiful bestfriend. You were to good for people, definitely to good for this world. In his eyes, no one was ever perfect for your time.

Nobody deserved it.

Not even him.

But he’d tell himself he was an exception since he was your bestfriend.

You were always nice and gentle to everyone that had the luck of talking to you.

But he hated.

Really hated.

When some morons could think they could have even a chance to be with you. Couldn’t they see that was his spot?

He adored the way you’d reject them, he’d like for you to be more mean but you could never do no wrong. And for the people that could ever mistreat you.

He dealt with them himself.

In the dark of the night, letting you know he’d go get you both snacks and you nodded, a kiss to his warming cheek. He feels the remnants of your lips still on his skin, even when he’s on his way to someone’s house.

It was a guy, someone who thought he could touch what was his. He stops at the end of the street, the guy walking into view.

He knows his routine, where he lives, his name and the best part, how to get in. So before the guy can even make it to his house. He’s settling in, the lights are off and a shot of adrenaline shoots through him when he hears the door unlock.

The guy walks in, unbeknownst of his presence on the couch until he turns the light on. He gasps loudly, almost tripping over his kitchen chair. He turns around from his place on the couch.

“Remember me?” He grins, standing up.

“W-What—Get the fuck out of my house!” The guy yells.

He snickers. “I asked if you remembered me.” He walks over to him. He towers over the guy, a psychotic glint in his eyes it has the guy gulping.

“N-No.” He pouts, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s try to remember okay? You saw the most beautiful girl today? You had your hands all over her, making her uncomfortable right?”

The guy nods his head. “I-I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.” He laughs, squeezing the guys shoulder.

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just her bestfriend, I gotta protect her from guys like you.”

He forces the guy to sit down on his own chair. He walks over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a knife. The guy squeaks, shivering in his chair.

“She was really scared you know? It hurt me to see her like that. I never wanna see her scared. It also makes me upset because I feel like I’m not doing my job correctly. So that’s why I’m here. To finish it.” He pokes at the end of the knife.

“Y-You’re fucking crazy!”

The guy takes off in a sprint for the front door. Making your bestfriend sigh. He goes after him and the poor guy isn’t even able to open the door before he’s dragging him back from the collar of his shirt.

“Gosh you don’t have to make this hard you know.” He rubs at his forehead.

“I swear! I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable! She’s just really pretty—” He nodded along as the guy rambled on, dragging the knife along the guys chest.

“I’ve heard this so many times. Why do you guys always try to justify your actions in the end.” He sucks at his teeth.

“You guys always end up the same either ways. Dead.”

The guys plea’s are white noise in his mind as he plunges the knife in him. It’s always in these moments he feels like something takes over and when he snaps out of it, the work is already done.

He spends some time cleaning up the body. His hands his clothes. Making it look like a murder scene. He curses at himself when he sees the missed calls from you. He dials your number and your pretty voice engulfs his ears.

“Hey, where’ve you been.” He could hear your pout across the line making him smile as he makes his way to his car.

“A lot of the convenience stores are closed so I had to go to one far from your house.” He lies through his teeth.

“Oh ok then.” You murmur and he smiles.

“I’ll be right there ok pretty?” You hum and he hangs up.

When he’s finally back with bags of snacks, you cheer.

“Finally! I missed you.” You say as you throw your arms around his neck. You go to kiss his cheek but spot something.

“Hey what is this?” You swipe your thumb over his cheek, it’s a red stain.

“Huh?” He peers down at your thumb and places the bags on the floor. He laughs and you glance at him confused.

“I might’ve had a little snack without you, it’s ketchup.” You whine and push at his chest but he picks you up, letting you squeal as he places you on your bed.

“It’s fine, I got you all your favorites ok.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. It makes you gasp and your eyes lid. He pecks the corner of your mouth, getting off of you and grabbing the bags.

You’re left there on your bed a flushing mess as he hums, sorting out the snacks. You chew at your lip and sit next to him.

“Hey I have a question.” He hums, still taking things out.

“H—How come you don’t kiss me?” He faces you but you’re messing with your hands.

“You’re always calling me names and treating me like your girlfriend. You even scare away guys when they come up to me. But we’re still best friends?” He hates how confused you look.

“C’mere.” He pats his lap and you move to straddle him.

“You want me to kiss you?” He tilts his head and you nod.

His lips are on yours and they’re wasting no time. They’re feverish around yours and if the tv wasn’t on you would’ve payed attention to how loud your guys lips smacked against each others. When he inserts his tongue into your mouth you let out a moan, tugging at his hair. He smiles and pulls away.

“You’ve been waiting for this huh?” You nod quickly.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t feel the same way.” You rest your face on his shoulder. He places kisses on your cheek and down to your neck.

“Oh baby, if only you knew how far I’d go for you.”

YUTA OKKOTSU, KAZUTORA HANEMIYA, HARUCHIYO SANZU, Armin Arlert, Vigilante Deku, Hirofumi Yoshida,

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

09/21-22/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR: David Jenkins: Cast Honks; Fan Honks; Rhys Darby; Ruibo Qian; Kristian Nairn; Vico Ortiz; Nathan Foad; Samba Schutte; Rachel House; Gypsy Taylor; Lindsey Cantrell; Articles; Fan Spotlight; amuseoffyre; Doll Normal; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

= David Jenkins =

Whelp, Chaos Dad is keeping us all on our toes still! Grats @edwarbteach for being perceived and getting answered by Dad!!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

= Cast Honks =

Fan Honking hasn't stopped since David's last tweet-- but with the new one, we've got more cast interaction! Con is back with spreading Adopt Our Crew posts on Instagram!

Source: Con's Instagram Stories

Hugo, our darling OFMD Cheerleader is still at it. Netflix has been asking what you'd like to watch on Netflix in 2025-- What a lovely prompt for the honkening- if you haven't already, feel free to let them know!

Source: Hugo's Twitter

= Fan Honking =

The crew is really keeping at it with the honking this weekend! Some kind folks are sharing some fantastic data with everyone to help support!

Special thanks to the darling Katrina, aka kmostran over on Twitter for putting together this EXTREMELY detailed list of Cancellation/David events.

Source: Kmostran on Twitter

And as always our friend Ashley (Seven_Sugars over on twitter) has more fun data for us!

Source: Buttons (Ashley)

There's been so much fun fan-honking going on, memes, and art being created-- I just wanted to share one that caught my eye today:

Source: unpopularcult's Twitter / ramsay_b_OFMD's Twitter

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Outside of the clowning, we've had some Rhys sightings!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

Rosie also put out the call for some help with getting Rhys and Rosie's son, Finn, and his band Great Big Cow some more subscribers to their Youtube channel! The goal was to hit 1,000 subscribers-- and great news, they did it! If you aren't already subscribed, and you're interested, I'm sure they wouldn't mind more! Great Big Cow Band Youtube

Source: Rosie's Twitter

= The Cryptid Factor =

There's another video of the Edinburgh Fringe Live shows on The Cryptid Factor Patreon! Night two this time!

Source: The Cryptid Factor's Patreon

= Ruibo Qian =

Our Pirate Queen Ruibo is digging her adorable shoes today <3

Source: Ruibo's Instagram

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico was interviewed by LatiNation! Check it out below!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by LatiNation Queer (@latinationqueer)

Source: Vico's Instagram

= Nathan Foad =

Nathan and friends on the tube <3

Source: Nathan's Instagram Stories

= Samba Schutte =

Samba 🤣🤣🤣

Source: Samba's Instagram

= David Fane =

Apparently it's been 20 years since the release of Bro'Town! David, Oscar Knightley, and Madeleine Sami voiced characters in the animated series back in 2004!

"A modern day fairytale about five Auckland teenagers growing up in the big bad city, bro'Town chronicles the schoolboy misadventures of Vale, Valea, Sione, Mack and Jeff da Maori in a proudly suburban, non PC satire."

David shared some videos but I couldn't fit them all on tumblr-- so here's a link to the repo with more: https://ofmd-renewal-repo.knowledgeowl.com/help/david-fane-brotown-20-year-anniversary

Source: David Fane's Instagram Stories

= Gypsy Taylor =

The fabulous Gypsy Taylor has been immortalized by our badass crewmate @amuseoffyre with a gorgeous Gypsy Muppet!

Source: Gypsy Taylor's Instagram

= Lindsey Cantrell =

Lindsey is so excited to see the tiny boats from s2 are living on!

Source: Lindsey Cantrell Instagram Stories

Also some cool news from the ofmd.buys.boats of Instagram!

Source: ofmd.buys.boats on Instagram

= Rachel House =

Rachel was interviewed by Sirius XM Canada Talks and she talks about working with Taika on Boy!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @siriusxmcanadatalks

Source: Sirius XM Canada Talks

== Articles ==

Kristian was interviewed by Queerty and does some lovely shoutouts to Nathan! Please check the article out below, and thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing this!

Source: AdoptOurCrew Instagram

Some WB news-- Our friends over at NeverLeftPodcast shared the news! Thanks dears!

Source: Never Left Podcast Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= A Muse of Fyre =

Okay so I'm SURE you've seen the OFMD muppets around, but I got permission from the EXTREMELY talented @amuseoffyre to share them in the Recaps! I've been meaning to for weeks and then life got in the way--but Gypsy sharing her muppet seemed like the perfect time to spotlight them! If you haven't checked the OFMD Muppets out before, please oh please do! I cannot tell you just how brilliantly made and gorgeously DETAILED these are. From the intricate beads, to the facial hair, their expressions, these beautiful creations bring the OFMD Cast to life in muppet form! Every time I see them pop up on another platform, I continue to be astonished at the gorgeous craftsmanship! If you have a few minutes, please visit some of @amuseoffyre socials! Instagram especially has so many wonderful muppet posts! Thank you @amuseoffyre for bringing our beloved crew to life! More to come in upcoming recaps as there's SO MANY to see! Tumblr / Twitter / Instagram

Source: Fyre's Instagram

= Doll Normal =

Next up on tonight's fan spotlight is Doll Normal! One of our fantastic crewmates has written Netflix a song imploring them to Adopt Our Crew! This is phenomenal! Please give it a listen :) Socials: Instagram / Linktr.ee / Twitter

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Doll Normal (@doll.normal)

Source: Doll Normal's Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Wow Lovelies. What a weekend huh? Yall have been clowning/honking (however you wanna describe it) for days now and it's so incredibly uplifting to see! It feels like the beginning of the year again, all buzzing with life in the fandom!

I've seen lots of mixed emotions on the subject of renewal today, so tonight I just want to send you a couple reminders. If you aren't feeling up to Honking for any reason, whether that be that the ups and downs of the cancellation/renewal news, or you've got things going on in your life, or you just don't want to get your hopes up again-- please know, that is OKAY. If you are honking your head off, tweeting, tumbling, drawing, writing, creating, and putting your whole soul into the clowning after David's tweet on Friday -- That's OKAY too. If you're passively keeping an eye on things, waiting for news, or focused on other things-- that's also OKAY. Every single one of us experienced OFMD different from each other. Every single one of us experienced grief from the cancellation differently from one another. Every single one of us has or has not begun to heal differently. If someone is having fun honking-- that's great, keeping doing it babes! If you're feeling like you just can't bear the disappointment again if something goes wrong-- you do what you need to take care of yourself m'dears! Don't push yourself in a way that makes you feel worse. There's no wrong answer here in how to be involved in what's happening right now. Be kind to one another, and let yourself and others do their thing-- and all is well <3 No matter what happens, we're still here for you crew-- we still care. Don't feel bad for how you are coping and engaging with the fandom right now. Just be yourself. Goodnight lovelies, I hope the week ahead treats you with kindness and healing.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I didn't wanna miss another day of gifs-- but I'm running out of image room, so we get these two iconic dude together tonight. Gif Courtesy of @dallonismysavior!

[all-pacas]

OKAY. 13 AND CHASE IN AFTER HOURS THO

The fact that when 13 needs help, she calls Chase. Why does she call him? Why doesn't she call someone else? She needs someone to deliver her a portable ultrasound, and okay, you could argue Foreman is a bad call because he's her ex and would pry. That House would just refuse. Taub would have been a good pick tbh, he would drop it off and just go home no questions asked. But no, she calls Chase

(And I love that call. "You doing anything?" "Oh, yeah, I'm just about to go out," Chase lies blatantly, asleep in bed with a book on the crusades on his chest. Like the loser he is. I don't know that it was done well but I love how S7 examines his Dumb Whore tendencies: it isn't really him, it's a rebound. He does it again when he gets stabbed.)

And of course the second he shows up he immediately sees through 13's excuses and pushes his way into the apartment. Because we love Chase's observation skills triumphing over his laziness.

13 tells Chase the prison backstory. Like! It's kind of glossed over. She hasn't told this to anyone else. She doesn't hide it. I killed my brother. It wasn't murder. Chase is just pacing, you just know he's twigged as hell, he's so anxious all at once as she tries to brush past it. The idea that 13 kind of had to tell him to explain Darrien's presence but she's also — House is the only other person who knows.

CHASE: Have you talked to anybody about it? I mean, are you okay?

Like we know this immediately triggered something in Chase, but 13 doesn't, and seeing him so anxious and pacing and ignoring the bleeding dying woman as 13 works, it's just. Incredible. It's good. He cares immediately, he's relating to this immediately.

But I love seeing them work together. Like they just immediately go in sync, Chase offering suggestions and 13 doing the work. They're just. It's nice.

SIDE NOTE: House says he called everyone before he called Cuddy. We see him call 13 and Taub. Chase is off picking up drugs, we don't see House call him, but like. He had to have called Chase first, right? Did Chase not pick up? Did he blow him off because he already was dealing with someone bleeding to death in someone's apartment??

The way they fight oh my god. The way 13 just is trying to fucking murder Chase. She punches him, she claws and shoves him, and then he just clocks her and stares horrified as she falls to the floor. Like it's an actual fight, it's brutal, it's so good. They hurt one another. I can't explain it but I love how brutal it is, that they both walk away with bruises, that it isn't pretty. Incredible. Amazing scene.

CHASE: You were defending your friend beyond all rationality, granting her the right to die in your bedroom. Was it really all because of a promise? 13: That word means something to some people. CHASE: Not that much. […] CHASE: You promised your brother you'd euthanize him and you think you won't feel bad about it as long as you can blame it on the promise. That's why you have this twisted obligation to keep all promises… or your carefully constructed defense mechanism could crumble down. 13: I saved my brother from a lot of pain.

!! Chase keeps bringing it up, he keeps bringing up her brother, not out of I can't believe you did a murder or I can't believe you went to prison but: you must hate yourself. He's calling her out on her coping mechanisms, he's calling her out on her guilt, and it's so fucking clear what he means is I get it but he's not saying that part. 13 killed her brother and now has to believe she did the right thing, no matter what, no matter how she feels. She's taking away her own agency: it was for a promise, it was his decision, she had nothing to do with it, it's fine, it doesn't feel bad. Chase killed Dibala and told himself it was for the greater good, it was morally just, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't feel bad. And it nearly destroyed him. And so he's pushing and pushing at it. He never goes 13 went to prison! he never goes it's so crazy you did that! Whenever he brings it up it's only in the context of how worried he is about her. Has she spoken to someone? Is she coping? Is this healthy? Is she okay? He's so worried. He cares so much.

I adore 13 and Chase running out of ideas with Darrien and calling dad. Most sibling coded of all time. Just. And the fact that House doesn't allude to also being in the hospital, actively bleeding and in pain, just, yes, we gotta help bail you two idiots out. Beautiful moment.

Chase getting 13 ice and coffee and still feeling guilty for punching her out, and 13 not blaming him at all. Like. You know. Don't beat people up. But in this one case I totally approve. Because I love it.

13: Darrien had to shoot that kid. It was the right thing. Completely justified. But it didn't matter. She destroyed her life trying to forget. I'm afraid that's what's gonna happen to me. CHASE: You really should talk to someone. 13: I've talked to a therapist. It didn't help. CHASE: Well, maybe you should talk to someone who isn't a therapist. 13: Do you really think you have any idea what it's like to live with something like this? CHASE: Let's grab a coffee.

Since the second Chase found out, this is what it's been leading towards. I love that he doesn't answer, he doesn't say a thing, but this is what he's been thinking all episode, why he's been pushing, why he's been so worried and caring: talk to me. Tell me you're not okay. Tell me everything isn't fine. And 13 holds it back until the end of the case, until it's over and she has no distractions. It's not at all clear Chase himself has talked to someone about Dibala, btw. He probably hasn't.

And how insane is that. He never told Foreman or House; they figured it out. He told Cameron: she left him. (Imagine being 13, hearing this. Realizing the timeline. She went to their wedding. What did she think happened when Cameron just … left? How quickly does she figure it out now?) House told Chase to talk to someone, Chase tried Confessing, but whenever he's tried to tell anyone it's gone terribly for him. I don't think he has talked to anyone. But he repeats House's advice to 13: talk to someone. (Talk to me.) He's offering her what he never got. And their situations are different, hers is much more sympathetic and easy to accept than his. Chase never goes I never got help or you have nothing to feel bad about or implies he doesn't think it's a big deal: his entire reaction is just empathy. He wants 13 to get what he didn't get, he wants to help.

The song that plays over the end of the episode is Bon Iver's Flume. And as much as you can apply it to House, and Cuddy, and Wilson, and all of that — it's a song about feeling isolated, feeling alone and being afraid of letting go. Of holding on to things that stain and hurt. The lyrics that play while 13 and Chase are having their coffee in the conference room, though:

i wear my garment/so it shows now you know

And I just! I love! Them! The ways 13 and Chase are so alike and so damaged, the way Chase reacts with empathy and care and wants her to have what he didn't, the way they know one another's secrets and worst moments and rely on one another so easily. 13's secrecy is a meme, in and out of universe, but Chase is absolutely no better: he won't even admit he's Catholic when talking to a nun. They're private to faults, they mask by sleeping around and taking risks and pretending not to care, they hide their hurts and then somehow, they punch one another in the face and know everything. I'm just. I'm so obsessed with them. I want them like this always.

[abigail-pent]

Thoughts on HTN Act Five on ??th reread:

- the joke about the Ninth knowing a thousand shades of off-white is absolutely a 50 Shades of Grey reference

- Ianthe wonders what Harrow's face "could have done to it" - ohhhhh yeah she is doing hella cosmetic "surgery" on Corona. this still isn't explicitly canon as far as I'm aware, but that line makes it pretty damn close

- Harrow Nonagesimus breaks into the Tomb and Harrow Nova breaks into the Anastasian. Baby girl is the same in every universe

- Harrow Nova is "the unfulfilled vow" and "the bloody teeth of the unkissed skull" AND THEN ALECTO KISSES HARROW NONAGESIMUS IN FULFILLMENT OF THE VOW AND SHE BLEEDS. I've connected these things, I've connected them

- ok if Harrow is pulling everyone who's dead into her River bubble, then doesn't that mean that in the BARI Star AU she is actually interacting with the actual spirit of Gideon Nav?

- I don't know if we talk enough about how Harrow actually becomes a full Lyctor after she's stabbed and remembers Gideon. It feels kind of weird that her body only gets Lyctoral healing once her soul is gone from it. The construct in her skull is still there, it stays there until Gideon talks to Mercy and hears her name.

I mean, the weirdest thing about it is it implies that John and Gideon the First were right that they could fix Harrow by killing her. And given that the sort of cav Gideon becomes is explicitly and canonically analogous to the sort of cav Pyrrha is - still conscious and able to pilot the body in the absence of the necromancer's soul - that makes me wonder if maybe this happened to Gideon the First too. Like maybe that's why he's described as such a zombie, and maybe that's why John seems to know that killing Harrow would "fix" her, and Gideon agrees.

- Abigail talks about the place over the River the way John talks about the place beyond the stoma - it's an undiscovered country he knows nothing of, where his power is meaningless.

- Mercy says if Gideon Nav were Alecto, she would have "gone for me already" - so yeah, Alecto wasn't just incredibly weird and creepy, she was directing violence at Mercymorn. Pyrrha later says Alecto wasn't so bad (but that absolutely doesn't preclude Alecto being super violent to Lyctors, Pyrrha would respect the shit out of that), and of course it seems like she and Anastasia loved each other. But: John says that anger was Alecto's sin; The Unwanted Guest implies that that anger may have been John's, but in a different body; and it seems like this anger got expressed at Mercymorn and probably other Lyctors too. When Gideon meets Augustine she says he looks at her eyes in Harrow's face like they were the last thing he'd ever see; which suggests she took her anger out on Augustine too. But why was she angry at them? Was it because they ascended?

- "I gave you one damn job, and instead you rolled a rock over me and turned your back!" Harrow IS the Ninth House for real... (this is exactly the problem Silas has with the Ninth)

- in GTN, in the Cytherea fight, when Gideon looks back at Harrow right after she says "Then we're all dead, Nav, but let's bring hell first" 🤝 in HTN, in the Sleeper fight, when Ortus looks back at Harrow who has just followed his lead to recite the Noniad ... the way both of her cavaliers are a little surprised, but very impressed and comforted, by her loyalty to them and trust in them ... I am very fine and normal about this

- when Abigail summons Nonius: blazing like a flare from an alien blue sun! appearing to hold a book made of blue radiation in her hands! soaking wet! everything smells like water and brine and blood! she screams as though there are a multitude of voices in hers! time seems to slow way down! her eyes become dark and liquid and feral! this is both extremely fucking cool and probably meaningful. the smell and wetness are for the River, the many-voiced quality recalls Alecto and her many voices, the time slowing recalls John's ability to stop time, the eyes recall John's (so, Alecto's) as well. SHE IS ABIGAIL FOR HER MOTHERS AND PENT FOR HER PEOPLE AND I LOVE HER

- I love that Nonius canonically fought Gideon the First, and calls him "a rival and ally". I'm not much of a fic reader myself (heresy, I know) but I absolutely want to read a fic about "we met long ago, and I fought him."

- "Genuinely sad, bordering on very funny" legitimately could have been the tagline for this book

- Augustine says that if it's really Wake, then Gideon has proved "yet again" that he's unfit for any job besides making simple gruels and stews. Yet again??

- it's probably Augustine that Mercy tried to kill tbh

- I think Wake recognizes Pyrrha in Gideon's face when no one else does. That's why she looks at her like that.

- the way Gideon Nav has always yearned for her parents vs the way her bio-parents treat her... oof ohh oww... Pyrrha Dve is the only parent I will diplomatically recognize for Gideon Nav

- Alecto's eyes end up in John's genetic code - Lyctorhood doesn't only meld souls, it melds bodies as well.

- John says Mercy and Augustine killed Alecto because he told them the truth about her; and Augustine says he told them that because Alecto also knew the truth. But ... which truth was it? When we hear from Alecto, she seems to have a fuzzy memory.

Also, worth mentioning that this is a different account than what Teacher offers. Teacher says that the Lyctors asked John to kill Alecto after they ascended and "found out the price." If this account is correct - and why wouldn't it be, it comes from Augustine, who was a key player - then the "price" wasn't the death of the eight cavs, the "price" was something to do with the truth about Alecto. And whatever this truth is, it isn't that Alecto was John's cavalier, because Mercy and Augustine are only finding out about this now. I suspect the "price" is the price of creating necromancy - murdering the 10 billion - and then when Mercy and Augustine know that Alecto is the Resurrection Beast of Earth they ask John to kill her. So I was wrong, and he must have basically told them "lol we've been hanging out with an RB this whole time."

- when John reconstitutes himself, the light he emanates leaches all the color from the room and turns everyone into shades of gray. LIKE WHEN SILAS SIPHONS COLUM. It makes sense that he's taking thalergy from somewhere to build himself back up, but where exactly is it coming from? Alecto?

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter seven | wc: 5.7k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah meet everyone again at Noah's house. Lia finds a familiar book in Noah's room and Noah catches her reading it, which leads to an inevitable conversation. Reading time: 22mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: fluff, one or two mentions of Lia's overdose, slight anxiety, alcohol intake, sexual innuendos, talks about bondage, one use of the word blowjob, noah on his knees, implied oral sex (fem. receiving).

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Returning to Noah’s house meant facing not only the people who lived there but also anyone else who might have dropped by that afternoon. Lia’s anxiety intensified during the drive from Santa Monica Place. 

Though she’d been nervous earlier, the time spent hand in hand with Noah at the mall had temporarily eased her tension. Now, however, the reality of confronting her friends and dealing with the consequences of her actions weighed on her. Shame, guilt, weakness… What would they think of her? Would they look at her with different eyes? Whatever it was, she had to push forward and deal with it. 

As they pulled into the driveway, Lia stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, following Noah. He glanced back to check on her.

Inside, they were immediately met by Jesse and Jolly, who bypassed Noah and rushed to hug Lia, bombarding her with the same concerned questions on repeat. Moments later, Matt emerged from the studio at the back of the house, giving Noah a quick brotherly hug before turning to Lia. He pulled her into his arms for a few seconds, then stepped back to study her closely.

“You look good,” he said, genuine relief in his voice.

“Thank Noah,” Lia replied.

Noah smiled, casually tossing his hoodie onto the sofa—one of his familiar habits. He noticed immediately that the living room and kitchen were a bit of a mess: dishes piled up in the sink, blankets on the sofa crumpled and unfolded.

“No one bothered to clean up while I was gone?” He asked, though his tone was lighthearted.

“Dude, we had lunch an hour ago and spent the morning being lazy,” Jolly explained, heading into the kitchen and announcing he was going to make coffee for everyone.

He busied himself at the same time Matt mentioned that the two Nicks were on their way over.

The anxiety Lia had about meeting everyone again after being cooped up in her apartment with Noah for what felt like forever—only leaving for her therapy sessions and exchanging a few scattered phone calls with Emery, Jolly, and Folio—faded surprisingly fast. Within five minutes, all the tension melted away. She wasn’t sure what she had expected—maybe judgment, maybe that she’d somehow lost their love or the bond they shared—but before she knew it, the boys were being boys, and it was like nothing had ever changed.

The Nicks and Mike showed up just in time to join the group for coffee. They all gathered around the wide kitchen island, some sitting, others leaning against counters as they shared stuff about the last few days. Conversations drifted easily—someone mentioned a ridiculous late-night craving, Nicholas recounted a failed attempt at cooking dinner, and Jesse imitated Mike’s dramatic reaction to his favorite sports team losing.

Then, Matt brought up work, and that’s when Lia noticed Noah’s energy shift. His face tightened with focus, and in an instant, the playful, relaxed version of him gave way to something more intense. It was like she could see the gears in his head turning. He didn’t even finish his coffee before he headed to the studio with Matt and Mike, already in work-mode.

Lia stayed behind in the living room with the Nicks, Jolly, and Jesse. An hour later, the air felt lighter, and every once in a while, Folio would nudge her, asking if she was okay. A few moments later, Jolly chimed in, wondering aloud if she needed another coffee, but she didn’t. In fact, she realized she was childhishly missing Noah. They had spent nearly every minute together over the last few days, so much so that now, with him gone—to the studio at the other end of the house—for not even an hour, her fingers tingled with the urge to find him, to touch him. 

She must have zoned out, because when she refocused on the conversation, Folio and Jolly were holding ten-dollar bills that Jesse and Nicholas had taken out from their wallets. 

“What’s going on?” Lia asked, furrowing her brows. “You guys into drug dealing now?”

Jolly chuckled. “Nah. Better than that.”

“We made a bet,” Folio explained with a smirk. “Noah couldn’t convince you to cancel the trip. Jesse and Nick were betting he could.”

“They underestimated the power you have over that man,” Jolly added, folding the bill and keeping it in his pocket.

Lia ducked her head slightly to hide the warmth rising to her cheeks. They still didn’t know the full story, and she couldn’t find the courage to tell them yet. She couldn’t help but wonder if there might be another bet on the table—maybe one that involved how long it would take her and Noah to get together.

“Has he been taking good care of you?” Jolly asked.

It was a joke, for he knew the answer to that. But she understood the deeper question there. They wanted to know if she was really okay, and if Noah had been what she needed during this rough time.

“He’s been great,” she said, lifting her chin slightly, a soft smile on her face. “Really great.”

Jolly and Jesse exchanged a look, trying to read into the way she said it. Lia caught their glance and couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s even done the dishes every single day,” she added. “Can’t complain.”

“Complain about?” Noah’s voice echoed through the hallway. It took him no more than three seconds to appear and enter the living room, smiling brightly at Lia, a sense of calm washing over him as he confirmed she was okay. She looked comfortable and at ease, surrounded by the people they both cared about.

“About your bad habits,” Nicholas muttered, grinning. “Like leaving dirty socks all over the house and all the kitchen drawers open.”

Noah frowned, clearly confused. 

“I don’t do that,” he said, crossing the room and leaning one knee on the armrest of the sofa to reach behind Lia, placing a soft, absentminded kiss on her hair. No one seemed to care or be surprised by the affection; it was just Noah and Lia, the way they’d always been—close, comfortable, unspoken warmth between them.

“I know,” Lia said, tilting her head back to look up at him with a smile. “Don’t listen to them. I told them you’ve been a good boy.”

“I am a good boy. I just finished my part of the work,” he emphasized, his eyes twinkling. “Now it’s your turn, guys. Go catch up on your stuff and stop being lazy—we’re heading out on tour in two weeks, and there’s still a lot to prep.” He looked pointedly at Nick. “We need a full gear check. Make sure the bass rig is solid, and everything’s tuned up. If anything’s busted, handle it now before we’re scrambling last minute. Same goes for you, Folio. We still have to lock in the tempo changes for the setlist. Let’s make sure you’ve got the click tracks lined up and that the drum kit’s in top shape. No last-minute issues like last tour. Matt and Mike are going through the logistics, so whatever you need to check on, guys, do it now. Tighten up your parts because in two weeks, we’re hitting the road hard.”

The group exchanged a mix of playful eye rolls and resigned nods. They knew the drill—work had to get done. Meanwhile, Lia couldn’t help but find his enthusiasm and ordering around extremely hot.  

With a proud “that’s my boy”, Jolly stood up before following the others back to the studio and letting Folio disappear into the garage, where one of his drum kit’s was.  In a matter of minutes, Lia and Jesse were the only ones left in the living room. Noah, true to his perfectionist nature, followed the boys back to the studio. He always had a hard time letting go when it came to work.

Jesse took the chance to show Lia some new ERRA merch ideas on his iPad. He swiped through a series of designs—hoodies, shirts, and hats—that featured bold artwork, some of which Lia immediately recognized as hers. They had used sketches she’d created the previous year, reworking them into something fresh and edgy, but still unmistakably hers.

“Look familiar?” Jesse asked with a grin, tapping the screen to show her a black hoodie with one of her intricate line drawings of a phoenix worked into a line from one of their latest songs. “We decided to tweak it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

Lia’s eyes lit up as she examined the designs more closely. 

“Not at all. It looks incredible,” she said, a flush of pride warming her. She’d forgotten just how much she’d missed working on creative projects like this. “It looks so much better than the original.”

“We wanted it to match the vibe of the album a bit more. I thought about asking you, but considering everything that’s been going on, we didn’t want to overwhelm you. We figured we’d give it a shot ourselves. I don’t think it’s better than your original, but if you like it and are okay with it, we’re ready to send it to printing.” 

Lia nodded enthusiastically, agreeing to it. 

As they flipped through more mock-ups, Lia felt that familiar itch at her fingertips. After a few minutes of discussing the tweaks and color palettes, she couldn’t resist pulling out her sketchbook from her backpack. She began sketching new ideas for future possible merch—or perhaps an illustrated book—her pencil moving swiftly across the page.

When Noah finally reappeared, he smiled at the sight of her sketching. He slipped onto the couch between her and Jesse, but before he could say a word to Lia, Jesse roped him into discussing more of the merch designs.

“Check out this lineup,” Jesse said, showing Noah the pictures of the updated items. Noah nodded, half-distracted by the sight of Lia absorbed in her drawing next to him, but he engaged with Jesse, asking questions and giving his thoughts.

A few minutes after, Lia stood up to fix herself a mug of jasmine tea, her head still brimming with ideas. She wandered into the kitchen, completely unaware that Jesse had quietly slipped off to his room, leaving her and Noah alone.

She was just pouring the boiling water into one of her favorite mugs when she felt Noah’s familiar warmth at her back. His lips found her hair, and his nose brushed against her ear, sending a delightful shiver through her body.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

“You were just locked in the studio for an hour,” she replied, though her heart fluttered in her chest. She missed him too, but teasing him felt like the natural response. “That’s nothing compared to your usual routine.”

“I have a new routine now,” he said, his voice low, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Oh?” She turned around, holding the mug in one hand, bringing it to her lips as she eyed him curiously. “You do?”

She took a slow sip, and Noah’s gaze fixed on her lips as they pressed against the rim of the mug. He watched the way she swallowed, the gentle curve of her throat.

“Yes,” he answered, almost breathless, his hands finding their place on her hips. His eyes darkened, the playful smirk growing more wicked by the second.

Lia swallowed the warm liquid, then deliberately licked her lips. She could feel his pulse quicken as he eyed the little action, and the power she had in that moment made her grin.

Noah’s jaw tightened.  

“What do I have to do to get another blowjob from that pretty mouth of yours?”

Lia raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider his question. 

“Hmm. I don’t know. Last night, you got me to four orgasms in a couple of hours. You set the bar pretty high. Maybe if you can top that...” Her voice dropped, teasing, “I might just get on my knees for you and do that thing with my tongue you seemed to like so much.”

Noah bit down on his lip, hard, his self-control hanging by a thread as he emited a sound similar to a growl. He shook his head slightly, trying to rein in his desire, but it was too much. He reached for the mug, gently taking it from Lia’s hand and setting it behind her on the counter. Then, without another word, he picked her up by the waist, turning them both around and placing her on the kitchen island.

His mouth crashed into hers, the kiss deep and hungry. Lia responded instantly, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as she lost herself in the heat of the moment. She was breathless by the time they parted, but her eyes stayed locked on his, craving more.

Just as Noah’s hands slid up Lia’s sides, his lips still feverish against hers, they heard a sound. Startled, they both froze, turning toward the doorway to find Jesse standing there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Oh my… Fucking finally!” he exclaimed, his arms lifting in the air to then drop to his sides.

Noah sprang away from Lia, immediately trying to compose himself, cheeks flushed a deep red. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping as he looked anywhere but directly at Jesse. Lia, equally embarrassed, hopped down from the counter, smoothing her shirt, trying to hide the heat rising to her face.

Jesse, still grinning ear to ear, didn’t waste any time. 

“Hey, guys! Get in here! You won’t believe this!” he shouted toward the studio, his voice carrying through the house.

Lia and Noah exchanged a panicked look as footsteps echoed down the hall. Before they could protest, the rest of the guys piled into the kitchen one by one. Jolly, Nicholas, and Mike were the first to enter, and the moment they saw Noah and Lia standing awkwardly with flushed cheeks next to each other, it clicked.

“Seriously? About damn time!” 

The room erupted in cheers and whoops, and before Lia knew it, she was being swept into a hug from Jolly, then from Folio, and even Nicholas joined in with an exaggerated, “Congrats, you two lovebirds.”

Noah stood to the side, laughing nervously and trying to fend off Mike’s bear hug.

“You guys broke the record,” Mike said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Idiots in love who couldn’t see they were in love with each other. I’m amazed it took you this long.”

Matt entered the room, smirking knowingly. “So now we know what you’ve really been up to, locked in Lia’s apartment all these days, huh?”

The teasing had both Lia and Noah blushing again, though this time, it felt a bit easier. 

Folio clapped his hands together, heading to the fridge. “Well, I guess this calls for a celebration. Who’s in for a beer?”

He stopped mid-reach when his eyes met Lia’s. There was a beat of silence, the group looking at her, suddenly remembering.

Lia, catching his hesitation, smiled softly. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “You don’t have to make it weird because I’m here. Go ahead, drink. It’s fine.”

Folio hesitated for a second, then nodded, relieved, and started passing out beers to the others. When he handed one to Noah, though, Noah declined.

“I’ll stick with tea,” Noah said casually, motioning to the kettle on the counter.

Lia glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. She noticed his quiet decision, wondering for a moment if it had something to do with her. 

Jolly called Emery to come over, and soon after, Bryan and Davis joined them, Bryan arriving with several boxes of pizza in tow.

As the hours passed, it felt like old times again. Lia found herself sitting between Noah’s legs on the carpet, her back resting against his chest, as they indulged in different pizza flavors and shared jokes. Emery sat comfortably in Jolly’s arms on the couch, the two of them whispering to each other and stealing occasional kisses, and Bryan and Folio fought for the last slice of peperoni pizza, keeping the others entertained in their silly wrestling.              

Lia felt a deep sense of gratitude as she cuddled in Noah’s arms and watched her friends. Despite everything she had gone through, here she was, surrounded by people who loved and supported her. It felt like nothing had changed, like the bond between them all was as strong as it’d always been. 

The night wore on.

Lia and Emery eventually retreated to a quieter corner of the living room to talk. It felt comforting to reconnect with her best friend, knowing that despite everything, their friendship hand’t changed. Lia had struggled to be the supportive friend Emery deserved during her new relationship with Jolly; right when it began, she had fucked things up with Noah. When she apologized to Emery, she smiled reassuringly and said it was okay; that what mattered now was that they were all in a good place, and that she got her best friend back. Ah, and on top of that, they could now chat about their hot boyfriends, tease each other, and share bits about how good they were in bed. 

Meanwhile, Jolly, Jesse, Noah, and Matt were standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, glancing occasionally toward Emery and Lia. They watched the latter, talking animatedly with her girlfriend, a glow of happiness on her face.

“She looks… different,” Jesse mentioned, his voice low but thoughtful.

“She looks happy,” Jolly corrected. He crossed his arms, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Noah, who had been absently running his hand up and down his mug of tea, couldn’t take his eyes off her, mesmerized by the way she laughed and smiled. That’s how she wanted her, always —aside from in his bed, naked.

Matt, leaning against the counter beside him, nudged his side. 

“You look good too, man. Did you two catch up on sleep, or have you been using your nights for some well-deserved sweet time?” 

Noah wasn’t one to bask in the attention, especially when it came to him and Lia and their private bedroom matters. However, he couldn’t hide the smile that gave him away. 

The night continued, and the city outside turned pitch black. The sounds in the apartment began to mellow, as everyone settled into their own rhythms. The Nicks, Bryan, and Matt had retreated to their video games, completely absorbed in their battle on the screen, while Jolly and Emery shared soft kisses in a quiet corner of the sofa.

Noah, always drawn back to work, had disappeared into the studio again with Mike, Davis, and Jesse, likely refining tour setlists or tweaking final production notes. As the group dispersed into their various corners, Lia found herself alone for the first time all night. She stood up quietly, leaving the lovebirds and the boys playing videogames behind, and made her way to Noah’s room. 

The warmth of the evening was still wrapped around her, but a part of her longed for a moment alone. The air in the hallway was cooler, quieter. Once inside Noah’s room, she let out a long breath. The familiar scent of him filled the room—it smelled like home.

A small pile of her clothes still lay neatly in one of his drawers, and his bed remained perfectly made, just as it had been since they left for the US tour. She smiled at how organized and clean everything was, a reflection of Noah himself. 

Her gaze lingered on the bed, and a flood of memories rushed back. Not long ago, she had slept in that very spot, bruised and heartbroken. The thought twisted her stomach, so she sat down in the armchair in the corner, trying to focus on the quieter, more peaceful moments she’d spent there—reading books or sketching while Noah took care of her.

But her eyes kept drifting back to the bed. She couldn’t help but think of the nights when Noah had held her through her nightmares, his presence always the comfort she needed. 

Curling up in the armchair, she wrapped her arms around herself, sitting in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, her attention was drawn to the stack of books on top of the drawer beside her. Absentmindedly, she read the titles until one caught her eye: The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage, the words printed on the spine white and faded yellow.  

She stared at it like it was Pandora’s box—something she shouldn’t open but couldn’t resist. Before she could stop herself, she reached out, picked it up, and flipped it open.

It started as an act of curiosity—the same curiosity that had led her to ask Noah about shibari in the first place—but it quickly became something more. 

As Lia flipped through the pages, her interest on the topic seemed to grow. The book was a deep dive into the history and philosophy behind the practice. She learned about the origins of it, and how, over time, the martial art had evolved into the erotic art of shibari, shifting from control and confinement to an expression of trust, vulnerability, and intimate connection.

Many of the passages mentioned the meditative aspects of it, the idea of releasing control and being fully present in the moment. There was emphasis on the importance of trust between the participants—how the one being tied must surrender to the process, allowing themselves to be vulnerable, while the one tying held the responsibility of creating a safe and secure space. The knots themselves were described as more than just physical restraints; they were symbols of the bond between the partners, a delicate balance of power and intimacy.

The more she read, the more Lia saw how shibari could be about empowerment, not just surrender. The art required both participants to be attuned to each other, heightening their connection through every twist of the rope. It sounded like something she could benefit from, a way to rebuild her trust and connection with Noah—if she could get past her fear.

But as the thrill of trying something new began to bubble up inside her, so did the unease. Her last therapy session had forced her to confront a hard truth—she feared losing control, especially after Mitch had manipulated and controlled her. The idea of someone, even Noah, holding that kind of power over her was terrifying. Could she really trust him enough to let him tie her up?

She hadn’t even realized that she had been thinking about practicing this crazy thing called bondage with Noah until the thought hit her. Heat flooded her face, and a strange ache bloomed between her legs. The mix of fear and excitement left her feeling exposed, as if the very pages of the book had unlocked something she wasn’t ready to confront.

Lia’s mind raced as she lay back on the armchair, her thoughts spiraling deeper. Sex with Noah had already proven to be a release, a way to let go of the fears and insecurities that gnawed at her. He had shown her that she could be vulnerable with him and he would only love her more. He had pleasured her while making her feel safe and loved.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so cared for, so satisfied, so beautiful. Noah had looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, had touched her with reverence, making her body feel alive in a way it hadn’t been in a very long time. 

But as much as she craved that feeling, there were limits. Her trust in him was still fragile—not because she doubted him, but because she doubted herself. She was still easily shaken by the ghosts of her past. The idea of letting him tie her hands, to give him control in that way, sent a ripple of anxiety through her. She couldn’t trust herself not to panic, to be overwhelmed by the memories she tried so hard to bury. 

Lia shook her head, trying to push the deeper thoughts away. She didn’t want to dwell on it. Not now, at least. Instead, she focused on the pages of the book, letting herself get lost in the descriptions of the intricate knots and the philosophy behind the art.

Barely a few minutes later, the door creaked open. 

“Lia?” Noah’s voice cut through her thoughts, soft but filled with concern. “Hey, I got worried for a sec. You okay?”

Lia sat up quickly, her heart racing. She nervously tried to hide the book, heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, standing up and keeping the book behind her.

Noah stepped further into the room, his eyes catching the way she held something in her hand. 

“Were you reading?”

“Hum… yeah.” Lia felt her pulse quicken, trying to act casual. 

Noah’s eyes shifted down to her hand, and when he noticed the book, a small smirk played on his lips.

“Is that...?” he began, amusement creeping into his tone. “Are you trying to hide it from me?”

“No,” she said while moving the book behind her to hide it better. 

Noah chuckled, stepping closer, clearly amused. “Lia,” he said, “are you embarrassed?"

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the book. “I was just… I saw it there and I remembered what you read to me. I got curious and—”

“You wanted to learn more?” Noah finished, his smile soft but knowing.

“Yeah. I mean—I was just curious. The book was lying there and…” She stopped when she noticed the way his eyes were boring into her. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Like you want to do these things to me,” she replied, shaking the book in her hand. 

Noah’s playful grin faded when he saw her expression shift.

“I do,” he said, his voice suddenly serious.

“What?” she asked, her throat tight.

“I’d love to tie you up,” Noah admitted, his eyes locking with hers, but his smile quickly fell when he noticed the fear behind her gaze.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, Bryan’s voice rang through the house, calling Noah’s name. The moment shattered.

Lia took the opportunity to escape the intensity of the conversation, leaving the book on the armchair as she crossed the room and brushed past Noah to open the door.

Bryan was standing in the hallway.

“I’m heading out, and so are the others. Just wanted to let you know.”

The house began to empty after that. Slowly, one by one, everyone trickled out, offering their goodbyes with tired but happy smiles.

When the last of them had left and the house had grown quiet, Noah and Lia followed suit, heading back to her apartment. Right before Noah put on his hoodie, Lia suggested staying there, pointing out that the band’s equipment was in the house and it’d be more practical for him to be there instead of at her place, but he refused. 

The ride home was quiet. Noah glanced at Lia several times, concern etching his features, but she seemed… content. Despite the encounter in the room, her expression was soft, pleased even, though her tiredness was evident.

Once they were settled in her bedroom, Lia returned from the bathroom barefoot, wearing only one of Noah’s old t-shirts and her panties. As she adjusted her long hair behind her shoulders, Noah spoke. He had been looking through the window, fear prickling at him. What if he wanted too much from her?

“Did I scare you earlier?” he asked.

She looked up at him, a slight furrow forming between her brows, her hands pausing mid-motion in her hair.

“When I said I wanted to tie you up,” he clarified.

Lia froze briefly, then let her hair fall as she exhaled slowly. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, her hands rested in her lap, fingers nervously twisting, then tracing the hem of the t-shirt. The only light on in the room was the bedside lamp, which casted a warm glow across the space.

“No, you didn’t scare me.”

Noah moved closer until he was in front of her. Then he knelt on the floor, his gaze steady as he looked up at her, his hands gently resting on her knees. The intimacy of the position was grounding, his presence there at her feet a quiet reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“But something was off. I could see it,” he continued. 

Lia hesitated, her mind flashing back to the swirling thoughts that had been spinning through her head. She wanted to be honest, but part of her didn’t want to admit how deeply the idea unsettled her.

“It’s not you,” she finally said, her voice soft. “It’s just… I want to trust you, Noah. And I do. It’s just that… I’m scared of losing control.”

“Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”

“No.” Lia shook her head. “But it’s not about that. It’s about me, about what I went through with Mitch. I’m just… not sure if I can handle being that vulnerable again.”

Noah’s expression softened with understanding. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she whispered, leaning into him. “But a part of me feels like... maybe this could help me. Help me let go of the fear. At the same time, I’m not sure I’m ready to try all of that just yet,” she admitted, her voice softer than before. “I’m curious… and I want to try it with you, but I don’t think I can handle it now.���

Noah’s fingers traced soft circles on her knee, his touch light and reassuring. 

“Of course,” he said, his voice calm and patient. “It makes total sense, and I told you before—I’m in no rush. This is about us. We have all the time in the world to try new things and explore what we like and what we don’t.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, holding her gaze with a quiet intensity. 

“I just want it to be you. And I want to be the only one to give that to you,” he admited. “And I just know you’d look so pretty tied up and naked.”

Lia felt a flush rise in her cheeks as something twirled in her lower belly. She looked down at Noah, the tenderness in his expression making her heart ache in the best possible way. She reached out, cupping his jaw, her thumb brushing across the stubble on his cheek.

“You say that, and you still manage to look so sweet,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. “How do you even do that?”

He chuckled softly, leaning into her touch for a moment. 

“It’s my charm.”

Lia smiled, but it quickly faded into a sigh. She felt the gravity of the conversation settle over them again, the air between them thick. There was something about the way Noah was looking at her, the softness in his eyes, that made her feel safe enough to let down her guard a little more.

Noah cupped her cheek this time, his thumb tracing her jaw. 

“We’ll take it slow. And if you’re ever uncomfortable, we stop. I don’t care if it’s mid-knot or mid-anything. You say the word, and it’s over. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. Not because of this talk or anything else. I don’t want you to feel pressured. We can just lie down, watch something, or fall asleep. Whatever feels right for you. Anything.”

Lia’s fingers slid down to rest against his shoulder, her soft breath mingling with the stillness in the room. She gave him a small nod. 

“Anything?”

Noah nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

For a moment, she hesitated, then slowly stood up from the bed, her legs brushing against his as she moved. Noah stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor, looking up at her with a quiet mix of curiosity. She stood before him, wearing nothing but his t-shirt that fell just shy of her thighs and a pair of panties.

She could feel the heat of his attention—desire simmering but held back by his endless patience. It made her feel both exposed and empowered.

With a steadying breath, she reached down and slowly peeled off the t-shirt. The fabric slipped past her bare skin, falling softly to the floor. Noah’s breath hitched as her breasts came into view, but he didn’t move. His eyes followed the movements of her body like every shift she made was sacred.

Lia stood there, wearing just her panties, feeling the warmth emanating from his brown almond-shaped eyes. There was no rush, no pressure, just the weight of his eyes on her, heavy with desire but still so respectful. It was his restraint, his quiet reverence that made her feel powerful in a way she was learning to love. 

Slowly, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties, pushing them down until they joined the shirt on the floor.

She stood completely exposed now, and yet somehow it didn’t feel like vulnerability. Not with him. His eyes traveled the length of her body, not with hunger, but with something deeper. Like he was seeing her for the first time, all over again.

“Anything,” Noah whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Lia stepped closer, her body so near that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. His hands instinctively found her hips, pulling her just a little closer as he pressed a soft, reverent kiss to her stomach, just below her navel. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move. She trusted him to take his time, just as he had trusted her.

Noah kissed his way along the soft plane of her abdomen, his nose brushing lightly against her skin, while one of his hands slid to the back of her thigh. Gently, he lifted her leg, guiding it over his shoulder. Lia’s fingers threaded through his hair, her breath coming in slow, steady waves as she guided her core toward his eager mouth.

Her heartbeat quickened, but it wasn’t from fear or hesitation. She wasn’t giving up control; she was choosing to share it with him. And that made all the difference.

She let herself sink into the warmth of his touch, into the safety of his presence, her anxiety fading as she surrendered—not to him, but with him.

— prev. chapter | chapter eight

Taglist:

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[fawnandshadows]

How You Get The Girl

The Final Chapter - Chapter 26

AO3 ~ Masterlist

warnings: none

Word Count: 6.3K

“I’ve been thinking.” Elain said, her hand flat on Azriel’s stomach. His ripped muscles contracting under her touch as Elain gently caressed his skin.  

“I love your creativity, Elain,” Azriel said in a deep, husky voice. “But I have to say you’ve tired me out, which I really didn’t think was possible.” His sleepy chuckle caused desire to run through Elain’s veins. 

There was something about Azriel’s sleepy voice that elicited the desire to do the dirtiest things to him. It was so dark and warm that it fell over her like a velvet blanket. 

A slow grin spread over Elain’s lips. 

They were making the most of their time alone together. Having sex in almost every room of the house, Elain found she was especially fond of the sun room with its natural light – casting Azriel’s beautiful body in a golden glow –  while Azriel preferred her sprawled out in front of the fireplace in the dancing light of the flames. They were trying to cram as much as they could into the days they had Rosehall just to themselves. Like two teenagers running around before the realities of the world separated them. 

In a few hours, Rhysand and Feyre would be joining them, arriving right before lunch and Elain had already planned the menu for the meal she’d make for everyone. Something light and refreshing and subliminally begged her sister to not be angry that she and Azriel hijacked their time at Rosehall – not that Feyre would be upset, but Elain still wanted to make the effort.

Azriel turned out to be a great partner to have in the kitchen, cleaning up her mess without ever having to be asked. And Elain loved giving him little samples of her food because every time she asked him how something tastes, Azriel would think about his answer. Turning the food over on his tongue before giving his honest feedback. It was just nice that he took her so seriously. He was thoughtful in every aspect of his life, but it made her melt to be the focus of his consideration. Azriel was thoughtful in a way that made her feel cherished – thoughtful in a way no one else had ever been to her.

Elain suppressed a giggle as she trailed her fingers closer to his hips where the white sheet was tangled. The urge to take a picture of Azriel in his afterglow all sprawled in messy and mused sheets nipped at her.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking about,” Elain admitted, but she pressed closer into his side as the ache between her thighs pulsed in delight. “But I’m glad you think I’m creative.” She smiled shyly at him. 

Everything with Azriel was different. She didn’t hide from him, and whenever she got an idea she shared it freely. The lingering insecurities would most likely always stay with her, at least for sometime, but with Azriel she knew she was safe from judgment or censure. 

Azriel shifted onto his side, propping one hand under his head to look down at her, a soft smile on his lips. Wild, inky, bedheaded strands fell over his forehead and into his hazel eyes. He reached forward and grasped her kee to pull one leg over his hips. 

“And you surprised me with your flexibility.” Azriel said into her neck, his lips moving over her pulsing veins. 

“Yoga is the only physical activity I like.” Elain breathed as Azriel’s warm lips met her skin. 

A small noise sounded from the back of Azriel’s throat. 

“The only physical activity?”

Elain could feel his smirk against her neck as she raked her fingers through his thick hair. 

“Ok, it’s my second favorite.” Elain said, grinding her hips into his and Azriel groaned at the movement. 

“I think it’s best if you just tell me what you’re thinking, beautiful.” Azriel said, pressing a kiss into her shoulder and brushing back her tangle of golden hair. He pulled back to look at her face, sensing that whatever she said was going to be important. 

“Well,” Elain started, taking a deep breath and pulling back slightly, delving further into the down pillow. “I already mentioned that I wanted to stop modeling,” Azriel nodded, watching her carefully to see where this was going. Encouraging her gently with his eyes. “And I’ve been writing more and more lately…I think I want to try to do it full time. Try and get something original published, you know? It could all blow up in my face, of course, we don’t even know if I can write original fiction, but I’d really like to try.” 

Azriel wrapped his fingers around hers. His thumb gently rubbed circles against her soft skin.

“I think that’s amazing, Elain,” Azriel said softly, taking in the hesitant joy on her face. He’d read her work and genuinely enjoyed it. Mor was the one that monitored her fanfiction account for security purposes, but he’d always found himself going back to see if she’d posted. “Your fics get a crazy amount of interactions. You’re incredibly talented. And I happen to know for a fact that you could write original fiction.”

“You do?” Elain asked, raising a slim brow. 

Azriel nodded and said, “When I read your work, it’s separate from the original source. The characters are familiar enough, but the way you create plots and wind everything together, it’s all you. And not to mention that your writing can stand on its own. You have talent, Elain.” 

Elain’s heart stopped in her chest and she took in his words. A rosy glow swirled through her.

“You’re only saying that because you got laid.” Elain mumbled, blushing as she squeezed his hand. 

“Hey,” Azriel said, his dark brows furrowed together, and he used his fingers to lift her chin up to meet his eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t discredit your own talent.” 

A stinging pricked at her eyes and an overwhelming sense of luck made her feel like she was floating. 

“Thank you for saying that,” Elain whispered, her heart tying itself into a knot in her chest. She scooted even closer to him. “I’m grateful to have you in my life. I know my sisters love me, but I never really felt like I’ve someone in my corner like this before.” 

Azriel's eyes softened as he ran a comforting thumb over her delicate chin.

“I love you.” Azriel said huskily in a thick voice, his eyes bright and golden and full of emotion. 

“I love you too.” Elain said, leaning close to him and brushing her nose against his. 

“I love you more.” Azriel teased, pressing his lips against her. 

“Prove it.” 

— — — —

“Ah, fuck,” Azriel said, furiously sticking his foot through the leg of his jeans. Balancing on one leg as Elain rushed around the room as someone feverishly pounded on the front door. “Don’t they have a key?”

Elain slipped her purple sundress over her head, fluffing her hair and desperately trying to tame any flyaways. 

“How do I look?” Elain asked, her cheeks bright and pink and flushed. He wanted to take a bite of her.

“Like you just had the most intense orgasm of your life.” Azriel said, zipping his jeans and grabbing the wrinkled white t-shirt on the ground. 

Elain groaned and hid her face in her hands, her golden hair curtaining her arms. 

The knocking sped up another notch. 

“Who the fuck died?” Azriel said in a clipped tone, annoyed that his time with Elain ended this way. He stepped towards Elain and gently grasped her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. 

She gazed up at him with wide, vulnerable brown eyes. 

“You look beautiful, Elain.” Azriel said honestly, relieved that some of the tension had eased from her shoulders. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but the knocking sounded off again. 

“Fuck.” Azriel said, rolling his eyes before spinning on his feet and charging out of the room. 

“It’s just Feyre and Rhysand.” Elain said behind him. Her soft feet padded across the floor to keep up with him. “Probably.”

“Don’t they have a key?” Azriel asked, flying down the steps. 

“Yeah.” Elain said, her voice trailing off and Azriel knew she thought this was as odd as he did. 

Azriel whipped open the door to see a frenzied Feyre and Rhysand looking at them apologetically, a sleeping lump in Feyre’s arms known as Nyx snoozed heavily. 

“We’re really sorry about this,” Feyre said at the same time Rhysand said, “We tried to stop them.” 

Two more cars pulled into the long driveway, dirt and gravel kicking up into the air, and Elain felt her heart deflate in her chest. She recognized Cassian's car and registered that the long hair in the passenger's seat belonged to Nesta, but the other car could only belong to one other person. 

Elain bit back a groan as she saw her parents exit the car, both of them pinning Elain and Azriel with the weight of their stares. 

— — — — 

Azriel was the first one that liked her post. 

It made her smile even though she was tucked into his side, curled up on a loveseat in the corner of the room. Her parents were somewhere in the kitchen far, far away from the rest of the family, but Feyre and Rhysand were laying on the couch in front of the fireplace, and Nesta and Cassian were off doing something that Elain didn’t want to think about. Based on the heated looks that those two had been throwing each other's way, Elain had missed a lot in the one week she’d been away from the world. 

“You really do have a talent. '' Elain whispered to Azriel, looking at the pictures she just posted and ignoring the steady flow of incoming notifications. The first was the one that he had taken of her in the garden on the day he helped her move — she never even saw him there, but he saw her. He had always seen her. And then she swiped to the second picture, the one that was leaked. She debated whether or not to post it, and after talking through it with Azriel, she knew she had to. Elain loved the picture that Azriel had taken and she wanted to reclaim it. Own it. She wanted to show off her boyfriend’s talent, and she wouldn’t let something so lovely be tainted. And the third and final picture. The one of her second tattoo, the tiny heart on her ribcage that Azriel had inked on her while they were at Rosehall…. Azriel and Elain were standing in front of a mirror and while Azriel was wearing a tight, black t-shirt, Elain was only wearing a pink, floral, flouncy skirt…and Azriel’s hands. His hands were big enough to hold all of her breasts, and Elain had made sure to crop the picture into a close up, so that only their forms in the mirror could be seen and nothing else in the room around them. 

A high-pitched squeal sound from the couch and Elain couldn’t help the excited smile that spread across her lips. Butterflies were working overtime in her stomach. 

Feyre’s head popped up from the couch in a way that reminded Elain of the Whac-A-Mole game. Her golden brown hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun and her blue eyes were bright and alert as she took in her sister curled into Azriel’s side - Feyre’s smile took over half her face. Rhysand slowly appeared behind Feyre, his face not nearly as lit up as Feyre’s, but he gazed at her in soft adoration.

The white light of her phone illuminated her face as Feyre read in delight, “‘LOVE OF MY LIFE?’ ‘MY BOYFRIEND IS TALENTED?’” Feyre threw her head back in a cackle and kicked the arm of the sofa in excitement. “Why don’t you just tell the haters to f off?” Rhysand pressed his lips into Feyre’s hair, hiding his smile over her enjoyment. “Hard launching your hot boyfriend while showing off how talented he is? I have to share it.” 

Elain’s phone buzzed with a notification as Feyre liked, commented, and shared the post to her story. She knew if she clicked on Feyre’s post she’d see a slew of hearts and fanfare. 

“Hot?” Rhysand said, his brows knitted together and his violet eyes fixed Azriel with a glare. Azriel just shrugged at him, but Elain got the feeling he was smirking. 

Heavy footsteps thudded down the stairs with muffled voices speaking over each other. 

“You bitch!” Nesta exclaimed, skidding into the room wearing Cassian’s boxers and t-shirt and somehow making it look fashionable. Cassian stood behind her in only gray sweatpants with a giant smirk on his face, both of their hair needed brushing. “You hard launched Azriel and didn’t tell me. Ugh, I would have tagged all those nasty bitches that called you a whore.” 

“Nesta!” Elain shouted, hiding her face in Azriel’s chest, his strong arms wrapping around her, but his body shook as he laughed at Nesta’s words. 

“Fuck, you guys look good,” Nesta said, zooming in on a picture. “Azriel showing off his eight pack looks hot as hell, and while also showing off his hand size? Flaunting your hot boyfriend is just the start of your revenge,” Nesta held up her hand palm-side out. “I’m not about Azriel accidentally leaking a dick pic, just so everyone can see how good you’re getting it.” 

“Hot?” Cassian said, drawing back in outrage as Elain tossed a pillow at her sister.

“Dick pic?” Elain said, lifting her head from Azriel’s chest and staring at her sister. 

“Well, yeah,” Nesta said, looking up from her phone and placing a hand on her hip. “People have been slut shaming you online for weeks now, and showing off how hot Azriel is just the beginning. We need a full blown plan of attack.” 

“Hot?” Cassian said again, even louder than before. 

“Yeah,” Feyre said, nodding and looking back and forth between Cassian and Rhysand. “It’s about time you guys learned that Azriel is very, very good looking.” 

Azriel chortled into Elain’s hair. He whispered into Elain’s ear, so no one else could hear him, “Make sure Nesta never goes on my phone.” A shiver raked through her body, but she playfully elbowed him. 

“I feel the need to point out that I agree,” Elain said, raising her hand and smiling brightly. “I’m going to love showing you off.” She looked over her shoulder to Azriel who was gazing at her with a smile on his lips and a blush on his cheeks. 

Cassian sighed with his entire being. 

“We know that Azriel is hot.” Rhysand said, causing Azriel to groan and hide his face in Elain’s hair. 

“We were just hoping that you two,” Cassian continued, his index finger moving back and forth  between Nesta and Feyre. “Didn’t notice.” 

Rhysand nodded his head in agreement. 

Heavy, less excited footsteps hurried down the hall and Elain felt some of the joy she was feeling dim out a bit. She steeled herself as her parents entered the doorway, her father carrying Nyx on his hip. 

“Mama!” Nyx called out, his hands outstretched and making grabbing motions towards Feyre on the couch. 

Her father slowly walked across the wooden floor, his expression neutral and he handed his grandson to his daughter. 

Her mother’s manicured hands lifted to her hips and her eyes narrowed into slits. 

“Are you pregnant?” She asked in a cold, detached voice. 

Elain’s body froze and she couldn’t stop the “No?” that eeked out of her. 

“You’re not sure?” Her mother asked and Elain felt about two feet tall. 

“Of course I’m sure,” Elain asked, steadying her voice as Azriel’s hands tightened on her body in comfort. “I’m just surprised that you asked,” Elain paused for a second, and her irritation took over as she continued. “Azriel and I use condoms.” 

“Yeah,” Nesta snorted. “Just look in the bathroom trash.” 

Elain’s face burned, but Cassian quietly scolded her so Elain didn’t have to. 

“So glad our family lake house was the perfect place for your sexcapades,” Her mother stated calmly through narrowed eyes, causing Elain to cringe and fight off the humiliation that was itching underneath the surface of her skin. “I —”

Azriel’s body tensed behind hers, and Elain dug her nails into his arm to keep him at bay. 

“Ew,” Feyre cried, covering Nyx’s ears. “Mom, can you please not say that?” 

“Well, your sister is the one who made our home into a den of iniquity, so I hardly I think —” 

“Helena,” Elain’s father cut her off in a stern voice. A voice that Elain knew he tossed around during his business meetings, but she could count on one hand the amount of times she heard it used on family members. “Could you please retract your claws and stop attacking our daughter.” 

Elain felt her jaw drop. 

Her mother’s shoulders snapped back at the words and she fixed her cool gaze on her husband. 

“Richard,” She hissed. “Your little girl has been shacking up,” Her mother gave an exaggerated shiver. “In our family house, and you’re defending her? I mean,” She held out a hand towards where Elain and Azriel were curled together on the couch. “Look at the man she has chosen to tie herself to. We were supposed to be planning her marriage to Graysen by now.” 

“I have seen him,” Her father said, his blue eyes flashing towards where the loveseat and Elain leaned deeper into Azriel’s warm embrace. “And I’ve seen the way he’s protected her despite all the trouble it’s caused both of them, and I’ve more than seen and understood the reason that Feyre is alive because of him,” Azriel’s body tensed around her and a pall cutrained the room at her father’s words. “So, if Elain wants to spend her life with him, then we sure as fuck aren’t getting in the way.” 

Her mother pursed her lips and leveled her father with a cool glare. 

“If you say so, darling,” Elain’s mother said coldly, undoubtedly embarrassed to have been spoken to like that in front of an audience. “I know that’s what we agreed to before we came here,” Helena struck back her shoulders into perfect position, and Elain felt floored at the revelation. That her parents had not only spoken about her choices, but apparently accepted who she chose to spend her life with. It didn’t surprise Elain that her father had an easier time accepting Azriel than her mother did. “I apologize.” She jerked her head at Elain and Azriel. 

“Thanks.” Elain said, feeling oddly removed from her body. She felt Azriel nod behind her. 

“And we also wanted to let everyone know that dinner is ready,” Her father said, outstretching an arm to lead to the large doorway behind him. “Please dress accordingly.” He looked sternly at Nesta, who begrudgingly nodded her head and left the room with Cassian hot on her heels. 

“Nyxie needs his dinner as well.” Helena said, her voice infinitely more soft when talking about her grandchild. Even though her mother wouldn’t have been happy if she was pregnant, Elain thought, she knew her child would be doted on by her parents.  

“You got an empty belly, buddy?” Ferye asked Nyx, her fingers dancing over his rounded tummy, causing his little feet to start kicking. 

Feyre and Rhysand quickly left for the kitchen, Helena following behind them. 

Elain slowly stood from her spot on the loveseat and she knew that Azriel echoed her movements. She moved across the floor and wrapped her arms around her father’s tired form. 

“Thanks Daddy.” She whispered as she squeezed him tightly. Emotion flooding through her in a way that nearly knocked her over. Overwhelming relief that almost brought her to tears. 

She knew that there were battles that she and Azriel would have to fight down the line, but knowing this wasn’t one of them made her feel like she was standing in sunshine. 

Her father awkwardly patted her on the back, slightly unsure of how to react. 

“I just want you to be happy.” He said softly. Elain tightened her eyes shut and pulled him in closer before taking a step away and giving her father a watery smile. 

“I am happy.” She said, reaching back to clasp Azriel’s left hand. 

Her father gave a firm nod of his head before sticking out his hand to Azriel. 

“I can’t remember if I ever properly thanked you for what you did for Feyre,” Richard said, his voice thick with emotion but somehow still stern. Azriel placed his hand in the open hand. “I know you’ll protect Elain.”

“With my life.” 

“Hey,” Elain elbowed Azriel in the ribs. “That won’t be necessary.” 

Azriel dropped her fathers hand before wrapping Elain in his arms and kissing the top of her head.   

Sensing a private moment, Elain’s father quietly slipped out of the room. 

Elain turned in Azriel’s strong arms and pressed a kiss to the underside of his sharp jaw. 

“It’s the truth,” Azriel said, pressing another kiss into her soft hair. The smell of honey and jasmine lulling his senses. “If something was to happen to you…I’d make sure it’d happen to me first.” His voice was so quietly, deadly serious that Elain’s heart dropped to her feet. 

“Just know that it would go both ways.” She said, looking up at him, her stare unwavering. 

“Elain, I’m not worth—”

“Yes,” She said, firmly cutting him off and not-so-gently clasping his chin in between her fingers so that he couldn’t look away. “You’re worth it to me. To your mother. To Rhysand and Cassian. Feyre and Nesta. And Nyx. So, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not as expendable as you think you are.” 

Azriel’s eyes were bright as they narrowed at her, and Elain knew that there were ghosts in his brain knocking around his own insecurities, but she wouldn’t let them win. 

She raised herself to her tiptoes and pulled him into a light kiss. They’re lips softly brushing against each other in tenderness. 

“So it’s decided,” Azriel said against her mouth. “We’re both staying alive.” He gave her a slow, languid kiss that made her toes curl. 

With his forehead resting against hers and their lips barely touching in what was the barest hint of a kiss, Elain had never felt more at peace. For the first time she was truly looking forward to what was coming next. Knowing that no matter what, she’d have Azriel by her side. Her rock when life got so tumultuous she felt like she was drifting. Her comforting shoulder when she’s was so full of emotions that they’re spelling out from her. Her source of sunshine on days she felt the darkest. 

His large hands laid flat against the curve of her hips. Squeezing her gently as Cassian and Nesta passed by them, both appropriately dressed for family dinner. Cassian shot them a wolf whistle, and Nesta didn’t even scold him, she just looked at her sister with a knowing glint in her eye. 

“I’m telling them tonight,” Elain said in a low voice, peering up as Azriel brushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “That I want to pursue writing full time,” Azriel’s dark eyebrows shot up his forehead in an unasked question. “I don’t want to hide anymore,” She said, feeling light and free. “Plus it will make for good dinner conversation.” 

— — — — —

ONE WEEK LATER 

“How does this taste?” Elain asked, holding a wooden spoon out to Azriel. Her free hand held palm up to catch any dripping red sauce. 

His warm hand wrapped firmly around her wrist, steadying her as he brought the spoon towards his lips. 

Azriel’s handsome face was a study in concentration. Dark brows pulled together in a knot between sharp, clear eyes. While Azriel was giving the sauce his full consideration, Elain was giving Azriel the same in return. 

He looked even more handsome than usual in a crisp white button down shirt that looked delightful against his tanned brown skin, and if Elain looked really closely she could see the outline of Azriel’s abs. His black pants fit snugly over his butt that Elain couldn’t help but pinch it whenever he walked by. His sleeves were rolled up to show off some of the tattoos that were inked into his forearms, which combined with his ear piercings made the most delicious combination of formal and rebellious. 

When they were at Rosehall Azriel had left the majority of his jewelry at home, so when they had gotten back Azriel had started playing with his piercings again. Elain was happy to see her favorite little paperclip back in place. 

His pink tongue ran across his lips as he pulled away from the spoon. 

“Perfect,” Azriel said, nodding in approval. “It tastes just like how Ma makes it. She’s going to love it.” He wrapped his arms around her small frame as she turned back to the stove, stirring the sauce. 

“You’re sure? You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better? You can tell me if something is off, I want it to be perfect for your mom.” Elain said, not bothering to hide the worry in her voice. 

Her golden hair was piled messily on top of her head – she was not going to risk feeding Azriel’s mom one of her hairs, she even thought about using a hairnet, but vanity won out on that one – and her pink floral apron did a beautiful job of keeping her dress clean. She wore a cobalt blue dress made of crushed velvet that stopped mid thigh and garnished her shoulder with little sheer cap sleeves. 

“She’s going to be impressed.” Azriel said, his voice more than assuring Elain of his honesty. She relaxed enough to melt into his embrace. 

The timer for the garlic bread dinged as the doorbell rang out. 

Elain was already halfway across the room as she said, “You get the bread and I’ll get the door!” She tossed her apron on the hook and removed the slip from her hair, not wanting his mother to see how messy she got when cooking. 

Elain swiftly opened the door to find Paloma, Azriel’s mother on the opposite side, wearing a wide smile and carrying a canvas tote full of ingredients to make tiramisu. Her silver-streaked black hair fell in wild curls around her shoulders and Elain would have bet that if straightened her hair would fall well below her hips. 

“You look lovely, Paloma!” Elain greeted and opened her arms to take the tote, but Paloma pulled her in for a hug instead. Her fingers were heavily adorned with silver rings that Elain could feel their coolness through her dress. 

“You’re beautiful, as always Elain,” Paloma said before pulling away and spotting her son walking across the floor towards them. “You both have that glow that only young love can bring,” She pressed a kiss on Azriel’s cheek as he leaned down to greet his mother – Elain noticed his cheeks had turned a charming shade of pink. “I have a feeling you’ll be asking for your grandmother's ring in no time.” She poked him in his pec and Azriel’s cheek flamed brighter. 

— — — — — 

ONE MONTH LATER

“Elain?” Azriel called out, stepping into the dark and quiet apartment, his eyes searching for his girlfriend. His arms loaded down with plastic bags full of Chinese takeout. 

They were the only two in the apartment. Feyre was still deep into her training, so much so that she barely remembered to speak with anyone that wasn’t in her immediate vicinity. Whenever she got hyper focused on training, there wasn’t much room for anything else. Rhysand and Nyx were with her, supporting her and keeping her grounded, and Rhysand could never truly remove himself from his responsibilities – he cared too much, far more than he ever actually let on, so whenever he called or texted Azriel for updates, Azriel would manage to do the same in return. Soon after they hung up Rhysand would send out a picture of Nyx to the group chat, or let everyone know how Feyre was progressing. Feyre got the same when she was painting, but she didn’t have to seek the solitude of Rosehall for that, so it was easier for Elain to check in on her. 

Nesta had been staying with Cassian, in the same building, so it wasn’t uncommon to run into each other. And Nesta would pop up in the apartment from time to time, but their relationship was still budding and Elain and Azriel were both heartened by how seriously they were working on their relationship. Azriel had never questioned how well Nesta and Cassian would fit together, how much good they would do for eachother, but they ran so hotblooded and passionate around each other that he feared one spark could blow the entire thing up. They had different challenges to face than him and Elain. 

They had a double date planned with Nesta and Cassian later that week — Azriel had finally convinced Elain that she didn’t have to work on the weekends as well. 

She was so deep into her writing that she was shut inside for most of the day, leaving her computer to prepare food, (something quick and easy, Azriel had to remind her that pop tarts weren’t true meals) go to the bathroom, or sleep. Elain had tried writing at a coffee shop or library just to get out of the house, but both times paparazzi had swarmed her within the hour. If she needed a change of scenery, Paloma was happy to offer her little courtyard to Elain, cutting off access to the public when need be for “maintenance”. 

Azriel had asked for the ring, a simple band of gold adorned with a beautiful emerald, an elegant, classic beauty just like Elain, but it was tucked safely in his sock drawer. 

Logically, Azriel knew there wasn’t a perfect time, but there was a right time and it wasn’t now.  

Elain was so focused on her new career and he wanted to support her, not add any stress of planning a wedding or another new decision that would alter their lives. Because it would be different, being married wasn’t the same as dating. They would be married, eventually, but he wanted to enjoy every stage of their relationship. He didn’t want to skip ahead. 

“Azriel?” Elain called out, her voice speaking of her sleepiness. 

He flickered on the lights and Elain poked her head out of their bedroom doorway. She must have been writing in bed. 

Elain rubbed at her eye with a small fist as she walked towards this, greeting him with a gentle kiss and taking one of the bags from him. 

“You didn’t have to get dinner,” Elain said, placing the bag on the counter before pulling plates out of the cabinet. “We still have leftovers, I think, or I could have made us a salad.” 

“You were working all day, Elain,” Azriel said, wrapping his arms around her and she fixed them plates. Elain wasn’t getting paid to write, and she had a tendency to downplay her achievements, but Azriel wouldn’t let her. “And I wanted to treat my girlfriend to one of her favorites. I even got you extra egg rolls and more than enough to carry us through til the weekend.” 

“I love you,” Elain sighed before placing a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “I haven’t been neglecting you, have I?” She asked, dunking an egg roll in duck sauce before bringing it up to his lips. 

Azriel bit down in a crunch. 

“Of course not,” Azriel said, swallowing and squeezing his hold on Elain. “Just because you're focusing on yourself doesn’t mean you’re neglecting anyone else,” Elain nodded to herself, as if needing to hear the words and took a small bite of the egg roll. There was something about sharing food with Elain that always made him feel warm and doughy inside. “Now, do you want to watch a movie, or are you sick of looking at a screen.” 

Elain nodded her head and said, “Something mindless, please.” 

They fell into a routine. Elain spending her days writing while Azriel floated to whoever needed a bodyguard that day, and then they would alway pass their nights together. Either curled up on the couch or in bed together. Occasionally breaking their routine for a night out with their friends. 

“Azriel,” Elain called out and her voice shook him. It was the most scared she’d sounded in a long time. He hurried out of the bathroom in only his boxers with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. 

“Babe?” Azriel asked, pulling his toothbrush out of his mouth. 

Elain was standing in front of her mirror wearing a bra – Azriel tried not to ogle how her full breasts were pushing out of their cups – and unbuttoned jeans. Her cheeks were twinged with paleness that spoke of her worry as her fretful brown eyes met his in the mirror. 

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked, not seeing her in any pain and not seeing a spider he needed to kill. He vaguely wondered if something had been leaked again, but they had been careful and security ramped up their efforts. 

“My jeans won’t button.” Elain stated and her bottom lip quivered a bit and she stared at him, waiting for his response. 

Azriel knew he had to tread carefully, with her past and her relationship with food Azriel didn’t want to accidentally say the wrong thing. He’d love Elain no matter what her body looked like, and he had always appreciated the wide curve of her hips and the plushness of her body. Feyre and Nesta had leaner bodies, easier to tone and more geared towards athleticism, but during her modeling days (and due to her mother’s influence) Elain had forced her body to survive on the fewest calories possible. Now that she had stopped modeling and improved her relationship with food, her body had changed. 

He wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, not wanting to have toothpaste on his face for this conversation. 

“It’s just,” Elain surprised him by speaking again. “What if my writing career doesn’t work out?” Her voice was low and uneven. “And I have to go back to modeling? I don’t … It wasn’t healthy for me.” 

“Hey,” Azriel said, pulling her into his body and carefully holding his toothbrush away from her body. “You don’t have to model again. Ever,” He said gently into her ear, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her arm. “And if your writing career doesn’t take off, which it will,” He emphasized and kissed her bare shoulder. “Then you can try again. Whatever you want, I’ll be here for you.” He pressed a kiss to her collar bone and felt her shiver under his touch. 

“And you…think I look ok?” Elain asked, her voice breathless. 

Azriel pressed a kiss to the top part of her breast which was overspilling from its cup in a way that taunted him. 

“You’ll never be anything but beautiful to me, Elain,” Azriel whispered against her skin, his voice full with arousal. “And after we get back from dinner I’ll show you exactly how much I love your body,” He pressed a warm, open mouth kiss over the skin of her breast and sucked until a wet, purple mark appeared. He heard Elain swallow as he picked up his head. “But we can’t keep Nesta and Cassian waiting. Maybe we can go shopping this weekend if you’d like, and I can always help you work out, if you’re interested.” 

Elain nodded her head and smiled at him. 

“I’d like that,” She said and kissed his cheek, her face bright and flushed. “Another way for us to spend time together.” 

— — — — — 

ONE YEAR LATER 

Bright lights were shining down on Elain, but she refused to let them blind her. 

After a year, she had finally agreed to be on the show again with one stipulation. 

A name change. 

It was no longer The Archer, The Valkyrie, and The Face, but simply The Archerons. Something that Feyre and Nesta had easily agreed to, in fact they had even stood behind her and said they wouldn’t film unless production had agreed to change the name. And with Feyre set to return  soon to the Olympics, they couldn’t risk not filming.  

There was so much for her to say, Elain thought, staring down the camera. For once, she wasn’t filled with dread, but rather excitement to talk about her own life on her own terms. In the past year, she had posted on social media so sparingly that she had somehow gained followers, and what she did post gained so much traction and buzz that she somehow accumulated more fame and attention. 

Her book was one month away from being published. A fear so new and so different from what she had experienced before grew with each passing day. Elain was so proud of herself and scared to hear what the public thought about her work, but she was already well into her second novel. Another romance. Lucky for her, she thought as her mind drifted to Azriel who was standing somewhere behind the bright lights, she had a never ending source of inspiration. 

A sense of pride and accomplishment grew within her and she gained a confidence that she hadn’t had before. 

Yes, Elain thought, crossing her legs and cupping her hands over her knee, she was ready to speak. 

“Action!” 

~~~~~~~~~~

AN: Ok, I have never felt this bittersweet before. I have tears in my eyes and like the biggest smile on my face! It took me way longer than I thought to get to this moment, but this ending feels so perfect to me and I'm so glad I didn't rush to finish How You Get The Girl. Thank you so much to everyone who even read one chapter of this story and I'm sending the biggest, bestest hugs to anyone who has read through to the end <333333.

tagging: @123moiaussi @fuckmelifesucks @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @duskwhisperer @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes  @magnolia-blossom87 @sheenabeene @nivem565  @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99-blog @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul @thisloveseternal

[bitterbutblue]

Is it bad i can imagine Robin as a hopelessly inlove girl like ofmgsh?? Like knowing how popular she is, she doesn’t have an attraction to anyone, seeing how some of her fans are just obsessed. She doesn’t like any of that.

But when she sees how polite and respectful you are, she’s immediately hooked.

Like you’re taking a liking to new cafe? You'll find that all your orders are on the house, already paid. Needing to vent? Her phone is always available ready for any of your calls or messages with flowers mysteriously on your doorstep the next day. You’re sick? She immediately drops everything to take a drive to your house with medicine and some of your favourite snacks in hand.

Please i love Robin, and i will ramble on and on about her everyday 🥺

~🍷

the way i manifested for robin before my final exams like i sat down with a group of friends and we did a little prayer circle and i hit the ten pull button while on 5050 adn we got robin and i proceeded to absolutely NAIL the exams on that day. she's my favourite for a reason.

⤷ you were just one of the people who worked in the fan meet and greets, setting up the venue and whatnot.

⤷ everyone there was going insaneee about THE robin being there, and you were excited too but upon seeing the way her fans treated her or behaved when seeing her, you couldn't help but feel bad

⤷ poor bby looked so uncomfortable, especially when the men are talking to her and trying to touch her as she walks off the stage. so you quickly took action (knowing it mayyyy cost you your job cause they could file complaints) but you couldn't care less.

⤷ you walk up to the man and aggressively shoulder him, pushing him aside as you approach robin to ask if she's okay with a very gentle smile

⤷ oh she's so gay.

⤷ fell for you hard and fast. literally offered you a job on the spot and you were like wtf

⤷ the entire time you worked as her assistant she clearly was in love with you. remembered your birthday, your favourite drinks depending on your mood, your favourite foods, snacks, everything. Always ordered a drink for you too, and you felt bad but she keeps insisting on treating you

⤷ no assistant of hers has ever been as caring as you!! always looking out for her, and arguing with the higher ups if you feel like they're pushing her too far and that was reallyyy what made her fall in love

⤷ you cared so much about her, not just because she's a celebrity but because she's a person. it's been so long she's forgotten how it feels to actually be cared for and not just looked at

⤷ she confesses to you one day when you snapped at her manager for commenting on her body weight again. you were sick of it- robin had barely gained anything but they wouldn't stop talking to her about losing weight so you snapped.

⤷ the manager demanded to have you fired but robin refused. instead she had sunday fire the manager.

⤷ it was a weird surge of emotions she felt in the moment, having someone actually look out for her. your face was red from anger and your breathing was unsteady, a look of pure irritation in your eyes but the moment you laid your eyes back on her the irritation fades into nothing but worry and she's smitten.

⤷ she asks you out on a date when you were walking her down to her car that'll drive you home and you thought you were dreaming.

⤷ she giggled at how u just stared at her, looking so confused and shocked

⤷ she kissed you on the cheek and your entire face just turned brick red

⤷ the next day, she got you another drink. except this time there was a heart doodled on the side, and a promotion letter next to it- asking you to be her manager.

⤷ the most loving girlfriend SERIOUSLYYYYY she doesn't take SHIT from anyone if they say anything bad about you. okay they can talk shit about her, but YOU? she'll start throwing hands

⤷ now that you're dating she spends even more money on u like christ, you knew she was rich but this is a whole other level.

⤷ rented out your favourite cat cafe for the day so you two could have a date in silence and peace without the stress of the cameras

⤷ wrote an entire album about you and you melted when you listened to it for the first time

⤷ despite how busy she was, she still makes you the most thoughtful handmade gifts. she learned to crochet to make you a beanie for when it gets cold when she realised you didn't have one in possession

⤷ she's your lover girl, forever and always <33

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.171 Happy birthday to ya

When it got closer to party time, Sophia and I moved the couch to the backyard for more seating options. Our parties always end up fragmented with some sims eating in the house and others on the patio. My goal is to keep everyone together, so hopefully this will help. We also moved the picnic blanket and put the portable crib outside to accommodate the little ones. Because we're friendly again, I invited Yasmine and her girls, but she declined. She doesn't know the other guests and didn't want anyone asking questions about Stacey. I completely understood but feel bad for her. This spellcaster business has really trapped her and the girls in their home.

Apart from my baby aging up, I'm most excited about having Dub and his family in our home for the first time. Between the deaths and parenthood, it's been super hard for us to connect lately. I guess I was naïve enough to believe it would be easier being in the same city, but life keeps proving it doesn't matter where we are. Life is going to life, and that's that. I suppose I'll have to be more intentional about hanging with him too.

"You got it smelling good out here, bro," a voice says from behind me.

That Henford accent is unmistakable, and I was so glad to hear it. I turned around and embraced him.

"Wassup, man! Did you find us okay? Welcome! Finally!"

"Right? Took you long enough!"

"Don't even play, man. You know how life is sometimes."

"Sure do. This house is nice! And the view!"

"Thanks. If you're able to stick around later, I'll give you the tour. Hey, where's Maia? Is she coming?"

"Yeah, she's running a little late. She's just finishing up a project for a client."

"Ahhh. See? San Sequoia has been good to you already. I'm glad her business is picking up."

There's no way Dub showed up alone, so I looked around for Tambara, knowing she couldn't be too far behind. I spotted her toddling across the yard, trying her best to catch up with her daddy.

"She's getting to be extremely independent these days," Dub said when he realized I was watching her. "She won't even let us pick her up anymore. I don't mind that so much, but waiting for her really slows me down."

"She'll get faster," I said, thinking about Desiree's determination. "Just give her time."

Tami and Desi look nothing alike, but I see glimpses of the immediate future in her proud face and wobbly gait. I want Desi to grow up and change the world, but I can't part with my little girl. At the same time, I'm anxious to see her continue to grow. I love watching her smash these milestones like the boss baby she is. Ugh. Fatherhood is just a melting pot of contradictions. How can I be happy and sad, proud and scared at the same time?

Tami finally made her way over to us, so I waved.

"Hey there! Do you remember me? I'm Luca. That's a pretty dress."

Her face lit up, and I knew it didn't matter if she remembered me or not. I was currently her new bestie. Flattery works at all ages, hee hee.

"What do you say when someone gives you a compliment?" Dub asked.

"I know," she shouted.

Me and Dub had a good laugh. She's so precocious, and I love it. Kids really do say the darndest things, and I can't wait to hear what Desi will have to say. Hopefully that's not a be careful what you wish for situation, heh.

"That's right, Tam," I said. "You better know it."

"How are you holding up?" Dub asked, wiping the smile off my face.

"I'm good. As good as I can be, rather. It gets a little better every day."

"I'm glad to hear it. I can't even think about what that's going to be like."

"It might sound morbid, but you should start thinking about it, man. It's the shock that's hard to get over."

"You play dollies with me," Tambara shouts.

That was probably supposed to be a question, but she's too excited about her new, big friend and it's too cute.

"Oh, no," Dub says to me. "You start that and she'll never let you go."

She's adorable, looking just like both of them. I hope she and Desi will like each other. It'll be a shame to have them fighting or snubbing each other when we hang out.

"You can play with Desiree later, okay?" he says.

"Speaking of... We should probably get this show on the road soon. Let me finish these ribs."

(makeovers and family photos below!)

Dub and fam by @mysimsloveaffair

[iamtired10]

hold my hand

pairing - lee hyein x female reader

synopsis - hyein has always loved holding your hand, but today is somehow different—in a good way that makes your heart race.

genre - cute shit :/

warning - nothing here

word count - 828

a/n - i'm tired of writing fluff, but my ass can't seem to write angst :(

you and hyein had always been close.

like, really close.

holding hands wasn’t even new to either of you. but today?

oh, today felt different.

it wasn’t just the normal kind of hand-holding. there was something in the air that made it... ten times more awkward.

the two of you were walking back from school, backpacks slung over your shoulders, and you could feel hyein fidgeting next to you.

you glanced at her, catching her eye for a second before she quickly looked away, cheeks flushing pink.

“you okay, hye?” you asked, chuckling softly at how jittery she was acting.

“y-yeah! i’m fine!” she squeaked, her voice going up like two octaves. not convincing at all.

you raised an eyebrow, curious but too amused to push her further.

the group—hanni, minji, haerin, and danielle—was trailing behind, laughing at some inside joke, but hyein?

she was too focused on what seemed like a life-changing decision in her head.

you could practically hear her thoughts scrambling to make sense of what she wanted to do next.

it wasn’t long before hanni’s voice cut through the air.

“yah! y/n! are you coming with us or what? we’re almost at hyein’s house!” she whined, dragging the end of her sentence with that classic dramatic flair she always had.

“yeah, yeah, i’m coming,” you called back, waving her off, but that’s when you felt it.

hyein’s hand brushed against yours.

at first, it was like an accident.

or maybe that’s what she wanted you to think.

the second time it happened, though?

definitely on purpose.

you glanced at her, catching her nibbling on her bottom lip as if she wasn’t debating whether or not to actually hold your hand.

you smiled softly, finding her nervousness adorable.

“what are you doing?” you whispered, leaning slightly closer.

her eyes widened as if she had been caught in some kind of serious crime. “w-w-what do you mean?! i-i’m just… walking???”

you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. “uh-huh. walking.”

another beat of silence.

and then it happened.

she did it.

she grabbed your hand.

but it wasn’t the usual confident, playful hyein you were used to.

this time, her fingers trembled slightly as they intertwined with yours, her hand clammy from how nervous she was.

your heart did a little flip, and you smiled at her. “there, was that so hard?”

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered, but her grip tightened just a little bit, as if she didn’t want you to let go.

suddenly from behind you, hanni’s voice rang out again. “OMO! are you two HOLDING HANDS?” her tone was dripping with mock shock as she gasped dramatically.

“wait, wait, i didn’t see anything. totally didn’t see you guys being all sneaky and cute or anything.”

minji and danielle snickered, with haerin simply nodding as if she was already way ahead of hanni’s realization.

hyein’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but you held onto her tighter, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“you’re not getting out of this now.”

“ugh, why are you guys so annoying?” hyein whined, burying her face in her hoodie sleeve. “just leave us alone…”

hanni wasn’t done. “i’m shocked! truly! our baby hyein has made her first move, everyone! hold the presses!”

hyein groaned, her face practically hidden now. “unnie, please…”

you chuckled, finding the entire situation ridiculously cute. “don’t worry, hyein, i think it’s adorable.”

she peeked out from her sleeve, still blushing but a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “you think so?”

“of course. besides,” you leaned in and whispered, “i like holding your hand too.”

her eyes darted to yours for a moment, a genuine smile breaking through her nervousness.

she squeezed your hand a bit tighter, and for the rest of the walk, she stayed close, even when hanni kept poking fun and pretending to be shocked every five seconds.

inside hyein’s house, the teasing didn’t stop.

you’d barely set your bags down before hanni started whining again.

“i can’t believe it. my baby hyein is all grown up, holding hands with y/n. what’s next, marriage?”

“unnie, shut up!” hyein squeaked, hiding her face behind a pillow as she threw herself onto the couch.

“or maybe… cuddles during the movie?” danielle added with a wicked grin.

“guys, please!” hyein groaned, her voice muffled by the pillow now. “i’m never inviting you again.”

you laughed, sitting beside her on the couch. “i’m fine with that. more cuddles for me.”

hanni let out a mock-offended gasp. “y/n, you traitor!”

the banter continued as everyone piled onto the couch, the teasing settling down only when the movie started.

you and hyein ended up sitting side by side, her hand slipping back into yours under the blanket when she thought no one was looking.

spoiler: they were all looking.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Love in Secret

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Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, mini sibling feud, slight smut suggestion

Category:F/M

Fandom:Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !brother's best friend Dk x !f reader, with !brother woozi

Summary: secret love, family feuds is it really wroth it for what could be the happiest moments with the person you love

Trope : brother's best friend

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Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the tenth installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

I had known Seokmin for almost all my life. He was my brother, Jihoon’s, best friend. The charming, always smiling, bundle of sunshine that seemed to brighten every room he walked into. Growing up, Seokmin was practically family, always around and participating in every little adventure Jihoon and I used to dream up.

It wasn’t until recently that I started seeing him differently. Before, he was just Seokmin – the boy who helped me with my math homework and saved me from spiders. Now, he was Seokmin – the guy who made my heart race whenever he smiled at me.

My relationship with Seokmin, of course, remained a secret. Well, semi-secret because he had told Jihoon about his feelings for me early on. Unfortunately, Jihoon made it clear then that dating me was off-limits. So, here we were, sneaking around like guilty teenagers even though we were all legally adults.

It all began on a cool autumn night. Our small group of friends had decided to have a movie night at our house. Jihoon insisted on one of his favorite horror movies, which I loathed. I found myself sandwiched between Jihoon and Seokmin on the couch. About thirty minutes into the movie, I couldn't take it anymore and buried my face into the cushions.

"Scared already?" Seokmin whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. I could feel my cheeks turning pink as I glanced up at him. He had this knowing look in his eyes, and a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Just tired," I lied, glancing sideways to ensure my brother hadn't noticed. Jihoon was too engrossed in the movie, oblivious to the silent exchange between us.

The night passed with stolen glances and moments where our hands would brush against each other, sending tiny jolts of excitement through me. As the night ended and everyone dispersed, Seokmin lingered a little longer under the pretense of helping me clean up. Once alone, he leaned down, and our lips met in a gentle, secret kiss.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he whispered softly before leaving, and I couldn't help but smile, already eager for our next stolen moment.

The next few weeks felt like a whirlwind. Between secret meetings and shared confessions, my feelings for Seokmin grew deeper. Every encounter was electric, filled with the thrill of secrecy and the fluttering of young love.

It was one such meeting, in the safety of my bedroom – Jihoon was out with friends – when things took a turn. We were sitting on my bed, Seokmin’s arm wrapped around me as we talked about everything and nothing all at once. Suddenly, the door burst open, and there stood Jihoon. The look of betrayal on his face was unmistakable.

“What is this?” Jihoon demanded, eyes darting between me and Seokmin.

“Jihoon, calm down,” Seokmin started, standing up to face his best friend.

“Calm down?!” he shouted. “Seokmin, you promised me. Y/N, how could you? You knew I didn’t want this.”

I stood up, squeezing Seokmin’s hand for strength. “Ji-Wo-Woozi oppa, we love each other. We didn’t mean to hurt you, but you have to understand…”

His voice was laced with anger and hurt, “Understand what? That my best friend and my sister are sneaking around behind my back?”

Seokmin tried to calm him, “Woozi, listen, I love your sister. I really do. I would never hurt her, you know that.”

Jihoon shook his head, still visibly upset. “I need time to process this. I can’t believe you two would go behind my back like this.”

As days turned into weeks, Jihoon stayed distant, creating a palpable tension whenever we were all together. I missed my brother’s laugh, his teasing, and most of all, his approval. It stung seeing the strained look on his face whenever he looked at Seokmin or me.

One evening, I found Jihoon in the kitchen, eating his feelings with a pint of ice cream. Taking a deep breath, I walked towards him, hoping to finally bridge the growing chasm between us.

“Oppa, can we talk?” I asked softly.

He glanced at me, his eyes softening for a fraction before he sighed, “What is there to talk about?”

“I’m sorry for hiding it from you. We should have been honest from the start, but we were scared of how you’d react,” I admitted, sitting down across from him.

“I get it,” he finally said after a pause. “It’s just... Seokmin’s like my brother too. I was scared of what would happen if things didn’t work out between you two.”

I nodded, understanding his concerns. “Jihoon, we’re serious about each other. I can’t promise you that we’ll be together forever, but I can promise you that we’ll try our hardest. All I want is your support, your blessing.”

He was quiet for what felt like an eternity before finally saying, “Fine. But if he ever hurts you, he’ll have me to answer to.”

I beamed at him, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Woozi. That’s all I needed.”

That night, as I recounted the conversation to Seokmin, his eyes shone with relief and happiness. He pulled me into a warm embrace, whispering against my forehead, “We did it.”

From that day on, things started to fall into place. Jihoon slowly warmed up to the idea of us, and the tension melted away, replaced by the familiar camaraderie we’d always known. Our relationship was no longer a secret, and it felt liberating to love unapologetically in the open.

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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀