#“collection” sure you can call it that

[loganofthenorth]

Did I go into this thinking I'd be a mighty hero? Of course not.

...

Okay, well, maybe a little bit... I wouldn't have gone on this quest had I thought it would end this way. I was foolish. Had hope I might prevail. Instead, water drips from the drip stone high above my head, and echoes against the cracked stone floor. Streams run into these cracks and several luminous dragonflies zip around the area to collect any flies enjoying the damp atmosphere. I'm not sure if my lack of breath is due to fear, or the humid air which suffocated me in this dark place underneath the ocean.

"Well, 'Chosen One?' Are you going to bow down and face judgement, or are you going to stand there like a snivelling coward?" The taller man standing across the cave from me questioned. A dragon with scales that reflected what little light the cave offered in a chromatic sort of way circled us. Her giant feet were slow in their steps as she gracefully moved her large body around the two of us. If I ran, she'd likely swallow me whole... I could sleigh her with my sword, but then what? He was a powerful wizard with magic which could restrain me. If I attack him first, the dragon will fry me. I could likely escape with my life, but... I likely would not escape with the artifact that hid within my bag, a loose raggedy thing strapped to my shoulder.

"Dimitri has terrible taste in heroes..." The wizard sighed in exhausted dismay. He took a moment to comb back his long black hair, which shined like the dragon's scales. A cocky smirk rested under his large nose, and his green eyes- the colour of which also matched the dragon's scales- glimmered with amusement. "What is it with great wizards and sending scrawny children to do their dirty work? Why can't he be a proper gentleman and perform his own suicide missions?" The wizard complained.

"You... Know Master Gracen?" I asked timidly.

"Why, has Dimitri not told you? I thought certainly he'd have at least warned you what you were up against. Please, allow me to introduce myself." The wizard before me mused. He bowed gracefully to me, a wicked grin across his face. "The name is Corren Hofftraitor. You can call me Coy, if you like."

"Coy? Like your attitude?" I couldn't prevent myself from snarking him despite the grave situation.

Coy laughed and clutched his stomach as his deep bellowing echoed through the cavern. "Yes," He heaved for breath as he finally calmed down. I felt my shoulders slump, and my gaze avert away from him. "Yes, like my attitude. I do like the younger heroes, they have such spirit in them. So nice to see someone who has yet to be crushed by the world... A shame I'll have to kill you to get what I want." Coy continued. He reached out his hand towards me, then held his chin up high. "Now kneel, and present the artifact to me. Or I shall make the remainder of your life a living hell." He threatened.

"But... My village. We need this artifact." I stammered. I took a step back, and the dragon growled in warning.

"Inerva, at ease." Coy soothed his reptilian friend. The dragon ruffled her wings and blew out smoke, then shifted her legs and lowered herself to lay down. "There's a good girl." Coy praised as he reached out and patted her scales gently. "As for your village... Might I ask, what does your village need this time? Will this artifact stop a monster? Perhaps cure a drought? Or, mayhaps, is it going to break a curse? I'm curious what con my old friend and rival is pulling this time." Coy went on, his attention back on me.

I could have escaped at this point... Grab my broken broomstick from the jagged ground and cast a quick mending spell before his dragon gets up. Or perhaps a teleportation spell would be more practical... I'd just need to know where I'm teleporting to.

Regardless, I was curious. "Con, Mr. Hofftraiter?" I asked to clarify.

"Yes, a con. The idea that anyone can be special and save the world by adding random things to some Wizard's collection. Kids keep getting killed over this and yet he's the 'good' guy." Coy complained.

"For the record, I'm not a kid, I'm 21." I defended.

"Oh, honey. To me that still makes you a kid." Coy mused. "But regardless... There's nothing magical about that trinket. It's simply a rare collector's item and your 'Master' wants it for himself." Coy explained.

"You're lying! Master Gracen said we needed it to craft a potion to cure my people's disease!" I declared.

"Ah, so that's what he promised you... A cute in exchange for the trinket. How quant. Unfortunately, I am also a collector, and unlike Dimitri I get my own hands dirty for what I want. Now hand it over and accept your fate." Coy threatened deviously.

The feeling of despair fell over my shoulders, and the realization that I had failed, doomed my entire family. All I could do then, was pray. I whispered to any Gods whom might listen, begged them to assist me in this moment of possible failure, and grant me guidance on what to do next.

I knelt down in front of the villain, and slowly reached inside my bag. While Coy pulled out a large knife, I pulled out the artifact. Eagerly, Coy swiped it from my hands. Then chuckled maliciously.

"Oh, excellent. This will go nicely beside my Egyptian Artifact collection." Coy decided.

I closed my eyes and waited, knowing this would be the end..

I felt cold steel against my neck after I obeyed a firm command to bow my head.

Then a sharp pain, and warm blood dripping from my neck and down my back. I was surprised, however, when the sword was sheathed and a hand was offered to me.

"There. In return, I have removed the tracking spell your Master engraved in you." Coy announced.

"The what spell!?!" I exclaimed.

"Gods you're oblivious... er... How about we return to my place, you can become my own apprentice, and I can tell you everything. K?" Coy offered as he climbed onto the back of his dragon.

"I... can't betray my Master. Or abandon my people." I argued.

"Your master is supposed to be protecting that village. He doesn't need a special vase to make the antidote, he'll do it once he realizes you're not coming back. Your master sees you as a tool, nothing more." Coy informed me.

"I guess..." I conceded. I felt a pit form in my stomach, knowing I couldn't return without that artifact or Master Gracen would not heal my people. "I have always wanted to ride a dragon..." I then attempted to persuade myself.

Coy smiled, then patted a space behind him. I eagerly ran over, climbed on, and held Inerva's spikes tightly.

Apparently I'd be the fifth adventurer Coy ended up adopting.

Which is better than being the fifth one to die certainly.

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

[willowsnook]

Hi,I wanted to request a fluff lando norris x sainz reader.you can make it however you would like.if you can make it amazing and if not, that's ok, also I love your writing <3

lando norris x sainz!reader

A/n: short little blurb

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"Are you sure it's okay if I stay here?" You asked your brother as he carried your suitcases into his Monaco apartment.

"Of course," he said, scoffing. "It's insulting that you even ask that; you're my sister."

"I know...but I don't want to impose," you said. Carlos set your bag down and brought his hands down to your shoulders.

"You can stay here as long as you want; I'm gone a lot of the time anyways," he said, reassuring you.

Moving in with your brother had not been in the cards for this year, but after you were laid off last month, you couldn't afford to renew your lease for your London apartment, so here you were. There were some good leads for jobs in Monaco, so moving in with Carlos temporarily seemed like a good move. Plus, the country was beautiful.

A few weeks in, you settled into a good routine. You went on a run every morning, followed by yoga, and then you applied for jobs or went in for interviews. You were in the final rounds at several places and felt optimistic. On nights Carlos was there, you hung out with him, but you tried to carve out a new life for yourself in Monaco. You joined a book club at your new favorite bookstore, hung out at the beach, and went to bars alone in hopes of meeting new people.

Carlos was out of town this weekend on a quick trip to see Rebecca, so you had the place to yourself. Declaring it a "self-care" night, you cooked your favorite pasta dish, poured a big glass of wine, and set yourself up to watch your favorite kind of thing on Netflix: a crime documentary.

Not even two minutes in, someone was knocking at the door. Annoyed, you paused the show and tossed the blanket off of you, heading to the door. Swinging it open, you were surprised to see Lando Norris standing there, giving you an equally confused look.

"Is Carlos here?" He asked once he collected himself.

"No, he's in Spain with Rebecca," you told him. "Do you need something?"

"Not really," he said, shrugging. "I just wanted to see if he wanted to grab dinner or something."

You nodded and started to close the door, but Lando stuck his foot out, stopping it.

"Is that pasta?" He said, a hopeful look in his eyes as he looked past your shoulder to the leftovers you hadn't put away yet.

You gently rested your head against the door, closing your eyes before you sighed and fully pulled it open, allowing him to step in.

"I don't even know you," you grumbled as he started towards the kitchen.

"We've met plenty of times y/n," he chirped as he made himself a plate. "What are you watching?"

"A crime documentary," you replied. "Don't you have better things to do on a Friday night? Going to the club? Getting on the sim? Streaming?"

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “Watching a crime documentary sounds good. Can I have a glass of wine?”

“Help yourself,” you muttered, moving back to the couch. He downed the pasta and brought a glass with him to the couch, sitting down to join you. Silently you started the documentary and the two of you spent the next hour and a half completely hooked.

“So do you think he did it?” Lando asked as the credits rolled.

“I honestly have no idea, “ you replied thoughtfully.

“I think he did,” Lando said confidently and you laughed at the triumphant look on his face. The two of you had shifted closer to each other during the show, now only a short distance apart. “Every excuse he has is just ‘too perfect.’”

You started to reply but were interrupted by your phone ringing on the coffee table. You threw Lando an apologetic look before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hola y/n, just calling to check in on you,” you heard your brother say over the line.

“Hi Carlos, everything is great. I had to take over your babysitting duties for tonight,” you joked and Lando pouted at you.

“Lando is there?” Carlos asked and you snorted while Lando groaned.

“Yeah, I’ve fed him and entertained him for the night,” you said and Carlos laughed.

“No funny business okay?” Carlos asked and your face flamed red. You mumbled a goodbye to him, ignoring the look of glee on Lando’s face.

“No funny business huh,” Lando said and you flipped him off.

“Are you leaving now? It’s late,” you said and he shook his head.

“Let’s watch another one,” he said and you sighed, but agreed. Handing him the remote, you got up to get a blanket, bringing it back and throwing it over you and Lando. He picked another documentary from the options and you two settled in. You could feel yourself growing sleepier as the show went on and you constantly squirmed, trying to get comfortable.

“Lean on me,” Lando whispered, not taking off his eyes off the screen.

“What?” You whisper yelled back at him. He held his arm up and beckoned you closer . “No funny business Norris.”

“No funny business Sainz,” he said back with an amused grin. Sighing, you moved into him and it was annoying how comfy he was. Snuggling into his chest you tried to stay awake but ended up drifting off. Lando looked down at you with a small smile on his face; little did you know that he already knew Carlos was out of town, he just wanted an excuse to see you.

[cuteandhughesy]

No Sex In The Elevator | Matt Rempe

summary: tension between you and attractive stranger grows as you end up trapped together in an elevator

7.6k

warnings: NSFW! confined spaces | suggestive dialogue + themes | kissing | smut | brief hand job | fingering | unprotected p in v intercourse | viewer discretion is advised

a/n: loosely based off this request! @remperoni-melt and I got the same request, so to save you guys from reading really similar works, I switched the vibe of mine up a little bit 🤍 make sure you go check theirs out and give some love ! they are very talented and I definitely recommend their work! hope you enjoy my take on this request 😏

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you try your phone again, blinking roughly to clear your eyesight—still teetering on tipsy. the dead battery flashes back at you, illuminating your flushed skin in the dim elevator.

you sigh, shoving the small device back into your purse. as you'd been leaving your friends apartment—much later than you intended to by the way—you'd been practically falling asleep, the collection of sangria you'd been sipping on all night slowly catching up to you.

you knew heading over to your best friends place on a weeknight wasn't the best idea—especially when she enticed you over with dinner and a wine night. you worked the next day, and being hungover while trying to deal with customers at the bank was never a combination you wanted to endure, but against your better judgment, you were calling a taxi right outside after your shift, giving the driver directions to her place.

so now here you are, nearing 10 at night with a 6 a.m. shift on the horizon, pouting about your dead phone while being tipsy and alone in a fancy elevator—a fancy elevator for a building that only your new york lawyer best friend can afford.

you watch the numbers on the digital screen slowly tick down, bring you closer towards the apartment lobby. you sigh gently, running a hand through your blown out hair. your strands get caught around some of your rings, catching and pulling uncomfortably.

"fucks sake." you hiss, awkwardly trying to untangle your hair from around the metal jewelry.

the elevator comes to a gentle stop, and before you can even react, the shiny polished doors slide open. quickly, your eyes flicker towards the screen—have you reached the lobby already?

no, you've barley made it half way down, the shiny 27th floor staring back at you. you swallow gently—still very much caught in your own hair—eyes flickering towards the open elevator doors.

there's a guy there—a extremely tall, muscular, cute guy at that. he looks younger, maybe a few years younger than you, with a soft complexion and brown hair tucked underneath a baseball cap. he's dressed relatively comfortable in a branded gray hoodie, paired with light wash jeans and sneakers.

he sends you a quick nod in greeting, stepping into the roomy elevator. out of the corner of your eye, you watch him step towards the button panel underneath the digital screen, but after a moment, he steps back—he must also be heading to the lobby.

you swallow gently, your face heating up like it always tends to do in the presence of an attractive man—it doesn't help that your still caught in your own hair.

the doors slide closed, a gentle click echoing in the quiet space. despite the embarrassment crawling up your chest, your resume in trying to unwrap your hair, tiny breathless curses falling from your wine stained lips.

"you good over there?"

the question has you freezing, gaze flickering back towards the giant on your right. you're sure you look insane, and you're once styled hair has turned into a tangled wreck.

you blink. "i'm stuck."

"I can see that." he chuckles. "do you want help?"

"maybe"

he laughs again, a deep rumble that sends tingles down to your toes. he takes the few steps towards you, and you feel his fingers over top of yours, beginning to un wind your hair.

you let him take over, dropping your hand with a shaky sigh. you're only able to look into the soft material covering the strangers torso, trying your best to stay still has he manoeuvres your fingers.

"so," he starts, tone full of amusement—but yet concentration. "how'd this happen?"

you exhale deeply, letting your eyes flicker upwards towards his face—you're met with the underside of his soft jaw, littered in growing stubble. "I honestly don't even know."

"twirling your hair or something?" he pulls back just enough to look into your glossy coated eyes, a teasing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

somehow his clear comfortably has you breaking out of your timid shell, and you scoff a gentle laughter. "is that what you think girls do?"

the stranger laughs. "maybe drunk ones. are you drunk?"

"are you?"

"I wish." he chuckles. he tugs on a particularly tight strand of hair woven through your ring, and you hiss gently, jerking your head back—which only pulls at your scalp worse. "fuck, m'sorry..."

the man trails off expectantly, waiting for you to fill in the blank.

you sigh gently, "y/n."

"matt." he hums. "i've almost got it. don't move."

you sigh, definitely a little impatiently, but you don't find yourself caring—your arm is completely numb and tired, and your fingers feel swollen and you're ready to crash in bed.

finally you feel the hair detangle, falling back against your head it what no doubt will be a matted mess. you breathe an exaggerated sigh, shaking out your tingling limb. "thanks."

matt steps back, allowing you to once again look at him properly. "welcome."

there's a loud shriek that breaks through the elevator, similar to metal grinding on metal. you look around quickly, brows pulled in confusion.

matt's face mimics yours, and he glances at the digital screen quickly—the 16th floor indicator displayed begins to glitch.

"what the hell?" you question.

the elevator shifts wildly, the noise increasing like it was coming to a screeching halt. it's almost deafening, and it's definitely concerning. you grab onto the handlebars lining the metal box, clutching until your knuckles feel tight.

the dim lightning in the elevator flickers wildly for a moment before shutting completely off. there's a second of darkness before the red emergency light turns on, casting the inside of the elevator in a rose coloured glow.

you’re frozen, looking around the space anxiously. you watch though hooded eyes as matt quickly walks towards the panel, frantically pressing the call button. it's no use though, and the only sound that comes out of the tiny speaker is a loud buzzing noise—echoing in your ears.

"fuck." he curses, trying again.

you clear your throat. "is anyone there?"

matt shoots a quick, irritated glance over his shoulder in your direction, pausing his hard attack on the call button. "does it sound like anybodies there?"

"okay, well I don't know! you live here, you should know what this all means?" you say quickly—a mixture of stress and fear running through you.

"what makes you think I live here?" he questions. it seems for now he's giving up on pushing the useless button, turning back towards you with a frustrated pull to his eyebrows.

you laugh in disbelief, raising you arm before letting it fall back against your side in defeat. "great—so we both don't live here."

matt runs a hand over his face, another curse passing through his lips.

you drop the the floor, much less than graceful, shuffling back until your leaning against the cold metal wall. you cross your leg over the other, your pencil skirt tightening over your thighs. "what do we do?"

matt looks down at you, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "we will have to wait."

you groan, "and what if they don't know we're stuck in here? I can't be here long—I work in the morning."

"you think I want to be in here?" a breathes in disbelief, eyeing you roughly. he watches your face fall, blinking heavily before turning your face away. matt sighs, guilt lacing his face. "look," he starts gently, "this is a nice place—i'm sure it won't be long before they realize something is wrong."

you sniffle, eyes flickering back towards matt. "don't have to be so mean about it."

he laughs. "you're so drunk."

you shoot him a deadpanned, anger fuelled look—does he think you don't know that?

matt's hands shoot up in defensive, a gentle chuckle passing through his lips. you watch from the corner of your eye as matt moves towards you before inevitably sliding down the wall, taking a seat next to you.

his legs stretch out, extremely long but somehow not gangly—if anything, they're extremely well defined, and you can see that even through his jeans. as his leg grazes yours, you all but blush, subconsciously clenching your thighs together—screw your drunk brain for always being horny.

to distract your thoughts and all the butterfly feelings going on in your underwear, you clear your throat, glancing towards matt. "I may be a little tipsy."

"knew it." he chimes. "could smell the wine."

"oh god." you huff, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand—comically wide eyes still in matt's direction. "is it bad?"

he laughs gently at the sound of your frantic, muffled question. matt's eyes twinkle through the red casted light, shaking his head gently. "no, it's fine. you smell nice."

you bring your hand away from your mouth slowly, eyes squinting pointedly as you take in his words. "are you always this...friendly with strangers you meet in elevators?"

"only the ones who get their hair caught in their rings."

at the mention of that whole fiasco only a few minutes ago, your hand instinctively reaches up, brushing over the now frizzy side of your hair. "don't remind me."

he gently pushes your hands away from your hair, a boyish grin on his face. "alright leave it alone before you get stuck again."

"hey!" you laugh, "as long as you're here, i'm free to get as stuck as I want."

matt's brows raise suggestively. "that sounds like the start of a really bad porno."

you feel your skin flush, and you're clenching your legs together again. you practically squeak like a mouse, eyes glazed over with amusement (and a little lust but you hope he doesn't catch that). "are you even old enough to watch porn?"

one of his brows raise humorously, looking back at you like you've grown three heads. "how old do you think I am?"

you stutter, embarrassed. "I don't know! like 20?"

the side of his mouth shoots up in a grin. "22."

you hum thoughtfully. "you're young."

"are you like secretly 65 or something?" matt questions lightly. "how old are you?"

"you're never supposed to ask a girl her age, matt." you're not that much older than matt, but you're finding a lot of amusement in this teasing, cat and mouse game you're currently in with the handsome stranger.

he grins, head rolling away from you and towards the closed elevator doors. there's a few moments that pass, nothing but the silent hum of the broken down elevator between you.

matt shuffles, his jeans crinkling. "I spy..."

you look at him questionably. "huh?"

"we're playing I spy."

"oh," your brows raise, amused. "are we?"

he nods, continuing. "I spy with my little eye something that is red."

"everything is red."

that game only last about two more minutes, because like you've already told matt—everything is casted in the red light glow.

so matt quickly suggests other games to pass the time, and you're quickly finding yourself in a game of 21 questions—like you're damn teenagers.

honestly for somebody as attractive as matt, he seems to actually be a decent human being. which from your college experience of partying and messing around with frat boys who look like him...isn't common.

you watch him hum thoughtfully, going over questions in his head before he just spews one out. he's switched spots now, sitting across from you against the closed doors. you'd warned him when he first leaned against it—what if they opened and he fell?

but he didn't seem bothered, telling you the worst that would happen is falling backwards into a random apartment hallway.

"okay," he starts, "what's the worst date you've ever been on?"

the answer comes easily, and you cross your arms over your white linen button up—your gray blazer not long abandoned. "when I was in college, this guys from my psych class asked me out, and I said yes. he was on the football team and he was cute enough...so what could go wrong."

"a football dude? yikes." matt hisses, shaking his head in displeasure.

"anyways, he picked me up in his buddies car and the date was a suprise—so I had no idea where we were going, so understandably I was nervous." you take a small breath, already shuttering at the memory. "the night before he asked me what my favourite food was, and I said sushi. so I should've known he was going to bring me to a seafood place." your expression shifts, "but he'd never had seafood before."

matt groans, already sensing something wrong with the expression on your face. "oh god, I already hate where this is going."

"turns out," you laugh in disbelief, "he's allergic."

"no."

"yes." you groan. "and the very first second we walked out of that restaurant, he threw up the entire contents of his consumed seafood boil all over me."

"holy shit," matthew laughs, "that's a way better answer than what I expected! what did you do?"

"I broke down and cried." you admitted embarrassingly, head dropping into your manicured hands. "I didn't even know what else to do!"

"i'm assuming no second date? or are you still with football dude?" matt's tone is almost hopefully, eyeing you with an underlying curiosity.

you don't catch it, and you only shake your head—mind still reeling about the awful sushi date from a few years ago. "definitely no second date and no boyfriend period."

"huh," matt hums. you watch something flicker across his face this time, but before you can question it, the expression changes. "alright, your turn. ask me something good—ask me something dirty."

"oh my god." you groan, a gentle roll of your eyes following. your reaction is one matt was hoping for, and his face lights up in amusement, a small flurry of laughter passing his lips.

you pause in thought, trying to come up with a decently good question. if you were stuck in an elevator with this guy, you at least want it to be entertaining. still lingering with the affects of the sangria in your bloodstream, a smirk grows on your face. if he wanted dirty, you'd give him the opportunity to act on that.

"what's your secret sexual fantasy?"

matt looks surprised, like he wasn't expecting that sort of level of question from you.

you're almost embarrassed by the bluntness of your words, and you feel warmth creeping up your chest and warming your ears. but you're not backing down now, eyeing matt expectantly from the other side of the elevator.

he takes his ball cap off, running his hand through his floppy hair before securing the hockey branded hat back on his head. "well when I was in high school-"

"-so yesterday?" you interrupt cheekily.

matt laughs once. "when I was in high school," he repeats lightly, "I used to have this fantasy about fucking a teacher."

"oh my god," you sigh knowingly. "ever guy I knew and their dad had the exact same fantasy—what is it about a teacher that makes you want to fuck her?"

he brings his knees up, resting his forearms on his bent legs, the man spreading position doing unspeakable things to your head. matt sighs lightly, "something about their demeanour, I suppose. the almost teasing personality combined with the hair and the tight skirts and button up shirts...gets me every time."

you gulp nervously. matt's just described the business attire cloaking your body to a tea—when he walked into this elevator and saw you did he immediately think about his past fantasies?

without nothing what to say to that response, you clear your throat gently. "your turn."

you think an hour has passed since the elevator came to a malfunctioning stop, and both you and matt have tried to call button three separate times since then—still nothing but that damn high-pitched buzzing. at this point you're considering prying open the elevator doors yourself.

you're hot, tired and somehow turned on? you really need to get out of here.

it doesn't help that matt has become extremely flirtatious, sending you teasing smiles and asking your dirty questions for the rest of your 21 questions game. plus, he's ditched his hoodie and his hat, leaving him in a tight fitting black shirt—he's so fit you're practically drooling.

you've switched your seating position since then, and you're now lying flat on your back, feet up against the wall of the elevator. the worn out carpet is pressing against your back through your shirt uncomfortably, and your pencil skirt has slipped dangerously low on your hips—but you don't even care, especially with the predicament you're currently in.

"I need to pee." you mumble, eyes closing as you concentrate on controlling your small bladder.

matt's back is pressed to the same wall beside your propped up legs, his bicep grazing your knee as he turns slightly to look at you. "are you joking?"

"i'm really not."

he sighs. "okay, well you're going to have to hold it."

your eyes shoot open, looking towards matt like a crazy person. "hold it?" you question wildly. "you're asking the girl who's been downing sangria all night to hold her pee?"

"well there's no bathroom in here." matt states the obvious, looking back at you just as crazily. "want me to cup my hands so you can pee in them?"

your gaze turned pointed. "are you being serious?"

"absolutely not." he laughs loudly, looking at you with amusement.

another hour passes, and that's low-balling—it feels like you've been in here for a whole night. when you asked matt to call someone—someone to come and help—he'd told you his phones been dead for hours, and your small sliver of hope dissipated.

at this point you're feeling irritated—because in a building this expensive and fancy, they seriously haven't figure out the logistics of their broken down elevator.

you've gotten tired of sitting, and decided you're going to stand. you're slumped against the wall, the handle bar digging into your ass uncomfortably. you ditched your kitten heels so long ago that the thought of having to eventually (hopefully) put them back on is literally taxing.

you're just glad you'd spontaneously painted your toenails yesterday after work—because the last thing you needed in the presence of an attractive man was chipped toe polish.

"truth or dare?" you question gently, looking down at matt with a bored expression. the entire evening it's been matt coming up with ridiculous games in order to pass the time, but this time it's you.

his head lulls back against the wall, brows raised. matt's still on the floor, his tree trunk sized legs stretched out—so long he's almost touching your feet. "i'm kind of curious what dare you'll come up with." he admits smugly, looking at you with a boyish smile.

"I dare you...." you trail off, desperately racking your mind for a subtle dare. you honestly hadn't thought that far ahead, and this style of game was very limited in an elevator—a spacious, lush elevator, but still. an idea pops into your head, and although it's not the most creative, it works. "I dare you to try and beat me in a staring contest."

matt laughs. "oh, you're so on." he shifts his body, pushing up with his palms so he's more ridged—displaying a perfect posture. his tongue slowly passes through his lips, licking onto his bottom lip to moisten the already plump surface.

you watch in what can only look like awe, standing across the elevator like a fool. you really need to get yourself under control.

his brows shoot up in question, eyeing you up and down. "are you going to come over here and play? or just stand there and check me out?"

you scoff lightly, blushing at the embarrassment of getting called out. "don't be so egotistical—it's not attractive." despite your words, you make your way towards him, bare feet padding against the carpeted floor until your toes brush against the material of his jeans.

you drop down beside his spread thighs, your knees digging into the hard floor. your skirt pulls at the tension across your legs, and your stomach unattractively spills over the band of your skirt— immediately you regret your choice of position.

matt watches the entire thing, eyes hazy with a subtle smirk beginning to ghost across his lips. "so i'm attractive to begin with?"

your eyes flicker towards his and away from your skintight skirt. the way he's looking at you—drinking you in—has you feeling hot and bothered. what have you gotten yourself into here? you bite your lip gently, yet nervously, a gentle breath of laughter sneaking out. "i'm trying to have a staring contest here, matt. if you want to talk about looks, i'll just assume you're forfeiting."

"I don't forfeit." he mutters smugly, further turning his torso so he's facing your direction—well, as well as he can manage while sitting down.

"ah," you chime, "a competitor."

"a winner." matt corrects gently, "I always get what I want."

there's an underlying meaning with his words, one that has your belly spinning and toes curling. you gulp roughly, doing your best to keep holding onto the strong eye contact—the damn staring content hasn't even started yet and you're already faltering.

"we'll see about that." you don't mean to whisper, but you do, and that has matt's teasing grin widening. you clear your throat, blinking a few times. "alright, ready?"

"always." he nods. you don't see the way he watches your sporadic blinking with a soft expression, eyes littered with amusement and admiration as you ‘prepare’. "you gunna count us in?" matt asks.

"sure." you hum. your eyes flutter closed as you begin counting down from 3. your words are slow—deliberate—pacing yourself and taking the short amount of time to try and collect your erratic heart and scattered thoughts.

as you hit one, your eyes snap open, meeting the chocolate ones of matt. the silence is almost deafening, bouncing off the red tinted metal interior of the elevator around your still bodies.

you can practically see matt's smirk through his eyes—the way they slightly crinkle at the side giving him away. you squint pointedly, "what?"

"you're just really focused." he mutters quietly.

"I want to win." you admit, just as hushed.

"that's cute." he licks his lip. "but you won't."

you scoff out a laugh, your eyes beginning to burn around the edges, drying out. "cocky?"

"confident."

you snicker. "I think you're all talk." you're playing with fire here, you're well aware of that—but you need him to crack. your eyes are becoming drier by the second, and you won't be able to hold your blinks back for much longer. "i think you're secretly dying right now."

"nah," his tone is teasing. "but I can see the tears in your eyes, y/n. I know you want to blink."

"don't be fooled," you chime. in a moment of boldness, you shift forward, drawing your face closer to matt's—without blinking or breaking contact. "they’re tears of victory."

"tears of victory already?" matt questions playfully. he's not backing down, and from the suggestive tone lacing his words, you should've suspected the sensual turn of his next words. "but I haven't even touched you yet."

you blink in shock, flushing all over as matt cheers.

"damn it." you curse, wiping the tears pooling under your damp lashes. "that's not fair. you used words to trick me into blinking." you pull back, eyeing matt with humoured disbelief.

"It's so fair! you chose to get all flustered by that, all I did was say it." he reminds you cheekily, looking anything but innocent. matt bites down onto his bottom lip seductively, eyes lingering over your tight skirt and shirt like an animal. his gaze flickers back towards your face, and his playful expression increases.

you don't say anything—mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you digest his words and deal with his hungry stare.

"so am I getting a chance to ask you now? or are you too flustered to continue?"

you really wish you didn't wear your emotions so easily on your face—because it makes things like this even more difficult to hide—and clearly matt has picked up on that.

you splutter momentary, a jumbled string of words leaving your lips in a stutter. eventually you collect yourself, muttering with a pointed expression. "just...go."

matt's smirk is almost infuriating, and the way he tongues his cheek to try and contain it, even more so. he ponders for only a moment, lips pursing in thought. a beat passes, "what's the sexiest thing a guy can say or do that always works on you?" matt questions. "like what's your biggest turn on—sexual or not."

your brow quirks up in amusement. "you know with all these sex related questions i'm beginning to think you're younger than you told me."

he laughs. "don't pretend like you're not enjoying this. I can tell by your eyes."

"oh, so you know my eyes do you?"

"I know more than you think." he tells you firmly—his eyes daring as if he's tempting you to challenge him. "answer the question, y/n. god, we don't have all night." matt teases you in a playful manner, knee shifting to the side and bumping against your bent one.

"on the contrary—I think we do have all night." he shoots you a deadpanned look, and you sigh gently. "okay, let me think."

you've had two boyfriends in your life—which isn't that unheard of or shocking. your first boyfriend was in high school, and you'd only started dating because your friends thought he was a cutie and said you'd be cute together. which looking back now, was not a reason to date someone. he was very sweet, but honestly he was too sweet, and kind of a push over. you felt like you had to be in charge of everything—it made you feel like someone you're not.

your second boyfriend was in college, and you dated for a few months before breaking it off. contrary to your high school boyfriend, this guy was the complete opposite of sweet. he was never that kind towards you, and he was overly protective. he claimed he was really manly—but was actually just an asshole who wants you to act like his mommy.

with those experiences, you grew to know what you're looking for in a man, especially when it comes to their personality, how they carry themselves and how they make you feel.

"someone who has goals." you start, "if they have aspirations and aren't shy about pursuing them I think that's really hot."

you continue. "also a man that makes me feel confident. like, a manly guy who's not afraid to praise me and love me—and show me off. that's super attractive."

matt looks at you then—really looks at you. his eyebrows pull together slightly, creating a tiny divet in the middle of his forehead. "has nobody ever treated you right or something? because that's the kind of shit that should be bare minimum."

you blink—you've never thought of it that way. but yeah, matt's right. that should be a bare minimum, because if you're boyfriends not treating you like he loves you or honestly, loves himself—he's not doing it right.

you shrug. "shitty boyfriends."

matt hums once, and his soft gaze doesn't leave yours—drinking you in like he's a starved man in desperate need of your water.

you're flushing again, but that's not a surprise—tingling all over like your nerves have gone completely off the rails. you gulp, "guess it's my turn."

"guess so." he smirks.

this time, you don't have to think of something, and your question comes quickly. "what was your first impression of me?"

"first impression?" matt parrots, to which you nod once, a low hum rumbling through you. "do you want me to be honest?"

you exhale shakily, core practically fluttering. "yes." you're practically sober now, so you're surprised at yourself for being so forward—seductive tones and suggestive words are not in your sober catalogue.

"I thought you were beautiful." he admits, unashamed. "the kind of beautiful that just alludes sexy—like you're smart and you know what you want."

"yeah?" you whisper.

"mhm." matt practically moans, licking onto his bottom lip. "and I could smell your perfume. it was like walking into a cloud of fresh flowers—enticing and intoxicating."

"and your hands." he continues, eyes fluttering briefly as he recalls a few hours back when he'd helped your untangle your hair. "they're so soft and so small...I couldn't help but picture them on my body, running over my skin."

you whine quietly. "matt."

the energy between you has completely shifted, and the tip toeing around you've been participating in all night has completely changed. it's raw now—it's a primal need that you've become completely enveloped in.

matt seems to have given up on the actual asking part of the game—looking at you through the red light swallowing the interior of the elevator and casting a rose glow over your skin. "I dare you to come here."

the gulp you emit practically echoes through the tension filled space, making the situation feel even more intense—more real.

with another nervous but excited swallow, you move. you push up onto your knee caps, your skirt immediately loosening around your thighs—your blood comes rushing back, and your legs immediately thank you. your eyes flicker to his, the smallest bit of hesitation in them.

you give him the opportunity to end this—tell you he's just fooling around. but as matt looks at you—nothing but pure want in his gaze—you move forward, throwing your leg over the expanse of matt's thighs.

automatically your skirt begins shifting higher up your body, and as you sink down to sit on matt's lap, the material almost completely rises, exposing the bottom of your ass, decorated in lace trim lining your panties.

matt exhales breathily, large palms gently sliding up the tops of your thighs—feeling and drinking in your soft skin. "shit," he curses so quietly and rushed, if you weren't sitting on his lap you probably wouldn't of heard it.

but you did hear it—and your core clenched around nothing. you've never been this turned on in your life—and the sangria isn't even an excuse anymore.

"how badly do you want to kiss me?" you ask matt, playing into the childish game of truth or dare that started this whole conversation. your hands—slightly shaky—run over matt's hard chest, feeling the ripple of muscle under your palms as your drag upwards.

you run over his collarbones and watch his adam's apple bob harshly, no doubt getting lost in the feeling of your hands—the hands he's been fantasizing about since he walked onto the elevator.

you push your hips down ever so slightly, feeling the semi-hard budge pushing against the seam of matt's jeans.

your eyes flicker back towards his face, looking into his glossed over eyes. matt's pupils dilate, and he looks anything but nervous. "I think you can feel just how bad."

he shifts, pressing his bulge into your covered core—bumping against your already sensitive clit. matt is growing harder—needier—by the second, and he's not sure how much longer he'll be able to contain himself.

you look so pretty on him, your mouth falling open in a daze like way—staggered breaths passing through your rosy lips. "please." you whine, face inching closer to his.

that's the only signal matt needs from you, closing the little distance between you and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

it's instantly taking your breath away, matt leading you in an exchange that is leaving you nothing short of lightheaded. his calloused hands move further up your thighs, following the natural direction around the backside of your hips, finding your ass. he pushes the gray material of your skirt further up and away from your hips, exposing your ass to the interior walls of the broken down elevator completely.

his fingers need the flesh expertly, pushing and pulling you against his jean covered bulge like his life depended on it.

matt continues his kiss on your mouth, suckling on your bottom lip, pulling it away from you before letting it go with a pop.

you can practically feel the arousal pooling in your underwear, and you huff pleasantly, leaning back in to capture matt's lips in a rough kiss. your mouths are slick with shared salvia, sliding over each others like you've don't it a million times before.

the slick sounds are intoxicating—turning you both on further. reluctantly, matt pulls back, away from your pursed, leaving just enough space for him to speak. "I dare you to let me fuck you." his swollen lips brush over yours as he says it, adding to the erotica of it all.

before you can logically think, your nodding, a breathy yes falling from your wet lips.

he smirks, sloped nose nudging against yours as he leans back in, catching your lips once again. you're already moaning into it, allowing matt to continue dragging your weeping core over his crotch. it's been so long since you've been handled the way matt is handling you right now—actually, you don't think you've ever been handled this way.

you're already a smaller person, but in matt's lap you're practically non-existent. he moves you easily and perfectly, muscles shifting and tightening in a way that under your finger tips, feels drool worthy.

you lift your hips slightly, and matt lets you—curious and too turned on to deny you. pulling away from his mouth, you let your warm forehead rest against his, and your eyes flicker down towards his hips—towards his dick.

the bulge is painfully hard, straining against his zipper. you let your one hand fall from his shoulder, shooting down to his jeans with shaky fingers. "wanna see you." you mumble, tugging open the metal button.

matt breathes a laugh, watching with lazy eyes as your nimble fingers tug at his zipper—roughly and quickly pulling it down to reveal his straining boxer briefs.

you bring your faces back together, bumping your noses as you interlock your lips again. while the kiss continues, you find your hand creeping under the elastic waist band of matt's underwear, moving through the space until you're grazing his most sensitive area.

he grunts against your lips, a curse whispered into your mouth. you smirk into it, hand wrapping around matt's fully hard dick. it's big—deliciously so, and your fingers barley brush as you fist him.

he pulls back. "holy fuck."

you bite the swollen skin of your bottom lip, eyes flickering over matt's blissed out expression as you continue pumping his dick—slowly but deliberately. "feel good?"

matt hums. "better than good."

you run your thumb over his oozing tip, spreading the streak of pre-cum over the surface. your thumb slides back into place, and you continue to pump him. he's growing hotter and heavier in your grip—he's close.

suddenly, his grip on your hips tightens, and he sits up straighter. matt holds you against him, and your hand slips of his dick at the fluid change in motion. gently, he lies you down, your back against the carpet once again tonight. your skirt is bunched around your torso, exposing your underwear completely.

but you're not even bothered by that—you're further turned on by it if anything. you reach towards matt's chest as he hovers over you, pawing at his shirt in a silent request.

thankfully, matt gets it, and a smirk pulls at his lips. he sit up on his knees before gripping the edge of his top, pulling it off in one swift motion.

your eyes glaze over as you watch his skin become exposed, muscles moving under his smooth skin—the red glow making the hard surface look more defined. he catches your stare, "see something you like?"

you take ahold of your lip between your teeth briefly. "see something I need." you correct seductively, eyes following matt as he crawls back over you.

your legs spread apart wider subconsciously, further inviting matt into your space.

"what else do you need?" matt whispers, fingers pushing your tangled hair off your flushed face. his hand trails off your face, down your neck and over your hallowed collarbone. you're too flustered to answer him, but your body reacts regardless—hips jerking up until your core bumps against his.

matt's hand finally finds your underwear, and he slowly drags two fingers over your slit. you're already worked up, the combination of matt's steady pressure and the material adding extra stimulation against you, has you moaning out. "please." you whimper.

"please what?" he smirks cheekily, still continuing the movements over your wet core.

if you weren't so turned on, you would've rolled your eyes. but, you're too horny to bite back. "please touch me."

"that's it." he praises quietly. matt hooks two fingers around the lace waistband of your underwear, swiftly pulling the material off you. you can feel your sticky arousal trail from your pussy to your underwear, the gooey substance stringy as your underwear leaves your body. matt practically finishes at the sight, "fuck, you're already soaking wet for me."

your underwear get tossed in one of the corners of the elevator, and you can't even process how disgusting that will be to deal with when this is all over—you don't care. "can't help myself." you mumble, "you've been working me up all night."

matt's eyes twinkle. "I know." before you have a chance to say anything about that remark, matt fingers circle your dripping entrance slowly, teasing you with his calloused pads. he doesn't make you wait very long before he slips into your hole, spreading you with his fingers.

your mouth falls open, eyes darting down to watch. he adjusts his positioning so that his palm bumps against your clit, continuing to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy. "that feels so good." you mewl.

"yeah?" matt questions, a hint of teasing in his voice. "and what if I do this?" he changes his rhythm, and instead of the thrusting motion he'd been previously doing, he curls his fingers deeper, rubbing his palm over your bundle of nerves—hitting all your weak spots.

the wet sound is like music to his ears, and he can feel your juices gushing, leaking down his fingers and dripping onto the carpet.

you curse breathily, eyes fluttering closed as your head falls back—too weak to hold it up any longer. "i'm gunna cum."

your words have matt abruptly pulling his fingers out of your entrance, leaving you whining, shocked and your walls fluttering around nothing. your eyes shoot open, mouth falling in disbelief. "whyyyyyyy?"

"hey." he laughs in amusement. "relax." matt pushes his jeans down further, reaching just under his balls. his hand, still slick with your juices, reaches into his underwear, pulling out his dick.

he squeezes himself, a fluttering groan bubbling from his chest at the delicious pressure.

your irritation and remarks die on your tongue at the sight. his cock is just as big as it felt, thick with two prominent veins running up the underside—his tip an angry pink and leaking.

you can feel yourself dripping—at this point your practically a faucet. matt fists himself a couple times, lining his tip with your fluttering hole. "is this okay?" he questions heavily, eyes finding yours again.

you bite your lip, an attempt at containing your ridiculously wide grin. "more than." you nod your approval, and matt smiles at that, mirroring your expression.

but as he pushes his hard length into you, your smiles falter, pleasure laced moans and whimpers mixing between your bodies. he stretches you out perfectly, your walls hugging his slightly curved dick like your life depended on it.

"god, you feel so fucking good." matt huffs once he's fully sheathed inside your gooey pussy. his pelvis brushes against your clit, and a shock goes through you 

matt uses his free hand to push your leg against your chest, creating a more open angle which has him sliding in even further. "you're so deep." you whine, clenching over him. "please move, holy fuck."

matt groans at your request, but doesn't have to be told twice as he begins to pull out of you before thrusting his length back in. his pace quickly turns fast, rutting into you so perfectly and hitting all the spots you need him to.

you're a moaning, sloppy mess, withering under matt like you don't know how to act—you don't know how to act when you're getting fucked this good.

matt reaches towards your shirt, and in one quick movement he pops the buttons open, revealing your animal print bra. he doesn't waste a second before pulling down the cups roughly, revealing your puffy nipples. "you're so beautiful—fuck me."

he grabs onto your boob, squeezing the fleshy mound like his life depended on it. the stimulation is heavenly, and you're whimpering like a baby. "i'm close." you admit.

matt picks up his pace, pounding into your hole quicker and deeper than before. you’re practically scream, nails digging into matt's torso as your ground yourself. you feel like you're being bent in half—in the best way possible. his pelvis is smacking against your clit perfectly, and tugging into your hole expertly. "that's it, fuck, such a good girl."

he pinches your nipple once more before his hand comes up towards the side of your face. matt holds your cheek softly, leaning down to connect your lips in a munch needed kiss.

you kiss him back with just as much passion he's giving you, letting your mouths exchange dominant passes over one another. when matt hits your sentive spot with the tip of his dick, you pull away, struggling to stay focused on anything but his movements inside you.

"i'm cumming." you whimper, brows pulling together as you focus on the feeling of coming undone. "don't stop—oh my god, don't stop."

"come on baby." matt huffs, kissing your neck quickly. "let go for me."

and you do. your entire body tightens as your walls clamp down on him—like your pussy was trying to suck him in. your orgasm washes over your skin, making you feel light and tingly, and your body goes limp—a pornographic moan falling from your lips.

matt slows ever so slightly, letting you ride out your high on his throbbing cock. matt releases his hold on your leg, letting it fall back into its original spread position. "yeah...you're so good y/n."

you whine, eyes fluttering open to watch matt's dick continuing to slide in and out of your spent entrance. his pace begins to pick up again—close to his release. "where you want me to cum?"

you sigh pleasantly. "on 'm belly."

"yeah?" he questions, already beginning lifting your skirt to properly expose your lower tummy pudge. "right here?"

"mhmm." you moan. "so hot, matt."

matt's thrusts become sporadic, and his rhythm has gone out the window as he chases his own orgasm. and with three more pumps into your seeping hole before he fully pulls out, fisting his cock as his seed spurts over your stomach.

"fuck." matt splutters, pumping out the last few drops of cum. the hot and sticky liquid drips onto your stomach, adding to the already covered skin.

you breath a mixture of laughter and a moan, watching the mess pool on your body. "that's really hot."

matt meets your eyes, breathless as he grins. "you're really hot."

you giggle, covering your hot face with the palms of your hands.

"don't go shy on me now." matt laughs, gently tugging your hands away. you look like a hot mess—beat red even under the glow of the emergency light, with mascara smudged under your eyes and lips swollen—matt's never seen anything sexier.

you look at him timidly, but matt's grin doesn't waiver, leaning back into your space. "give me a kiss."

and you do, leaning up and pressing your lips to his in another kiss. this one is softer, more relaxed—but still laced with passion and need.

the loud buzz of the speaker has you pulling apart, surprising you both. a grainy voice begins to speak, "is anybody in this elevator?"

you and matt turn to look at one another, eyes wide. "fuck."

you can't help but laugh as matt scrambles off your body, half naked as he presses the call button, answering the lady on the other end.

and as you lay there, with the man who only a few hours ago was a stranger, sneaking a glance at you over his shoulder, you can't help be feel overjoyed for getting stuck in an elevator. and although you don’t really know that much about him other than his name and what he looks like naked—you can’t wait to learn.

[chaoticwriting]

GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 4

Part 3

Danny looks at the guy skeptically. Last time someone approached him, they were Red Robin, Spoiler and Signal. This time, a dude that looks like an average office worker approaches him.

Trickster: Sure, why not?

???: Thank you.

Trickster: So, what do you want with me?

???: Let me introduce myself first. I am Clark Kent. A journalist from the Daily Planet. I would like to ask, is it true that you know Batman's secret identity?

Trickster: You mean those pictures I stole from his wallet? Yeah sure. Why do you wanna know?

Clark: As you know, I am a journalist. And it is our job to find out about news and share it with the general public. I am just thinking, what would you like to exchange for the real identity of Batman.

Trickster: Hmmm..... What price huh? Let me think for a moment.

Danny then continues to eat his food as he pretends to think about Clark's offer. Honestly, he doesn't give a damn about this Clark guy. He is also a vigilante once, so he knows the importance of their secret identities. While slurping away his last coke, Danny gains a very good idea (He thinks it is a good idea).

Trickster: Well, I don't think I would sell the pictures just yet since the card is still useful and I don't need money. However, I have a very interesting topic you can investigate.

Clark: Oh? What is it?

Trickster: Try searching for something called GIW. It is a government branch and I'm sure it will be a hit piece.

Clark: GIW? What is that?

Trickster: Well that's for you to figure out. Oh well. I'm pretty full now. Gotta go now. See you never.

Danny then disappears right in front of Clark before he can do anything. Clark can't even hear or see the kid anymore with his enhanced sense and x-ray vision further cementing that the kid probably has teleportation power.

Danny meanwhile is laying on his makeshift bed while watching the stars after he uses his power to clear the sky thinking what he just did is very smart. Unfortunately, he doesn't know this decision is as good as the previous time he thinks his idea is good.

-1 month later-

Danny is picking up scraps from the junkyard for his next prank. Collecting some toasters, some blenders and even some radios. Danny has spent a lot of time these past few months, tinkering with machines that he practically knows what component is in which appliances.

Suddenly, he sees a very familiar device among the junk. A sleek silver gun with a few green buttons on it. It doesn't have the usual designs that Danny used to see but Danny knows without a doubt in his mind that it is an ecto gun.

The problem is that, the gun is new. Very new. Like it is just created. And that means one thing. A GIW agent is here. Shit! Danny needs to run. But where? He has checked before this but the only place with enough ectoplasm to hide him is either Gotham or Amity Park. No where else in the world has as much ambience ectoplasm to hide him from the ecto detector.

But now that they are in Gotham, he might as well not hide since at such close proximity, the ambient ectoplasm can only hide him if they are not close. Danny is thinking very hard when his ears pick up something. A group of people is coming his way, and from the way they are all carrying heavy devices, they are probably GIW agents.

Danny against his better judgement turns invisible and flies high enough so that if the agents decide to shoot him, he will have time to dodge them. Danny watches quietly as the ecto detector bips faster and faster the more they go to where he is previously.

???: Damn it. I thought this is where Trickster is. But it's just the gun that you lost.

???: Hey, at least we don't need to file reports of missing weapons right? Also, didn't that thing already get set up by the Fentons to find Trickster?

???: It's probably them messing it up. It's not like them messing shit up is something new anyway.

???: Yeah. Let's just say it is a false alarm. I hear the higher ups are thinking of lowering our budgets next year if we don't produce any results soon.

???: Ugghh, don't remind me of that. Not only do they pressure us like that. I even heard that there is some guy that has been snooping around our base, taking pictures and stuff.

???: I hate those reporters. We are trying to do our job and save them from those savages, and yet here they are messing with us. Calling us genocidal maniacs and the second coming of Nazis.

???: If that is not bad enough, they even say that they feel like we should treat the ghost as if they are people. Ghosts are not people! They are merely beast pretending to be someone we used to know and love.

???: I would love to just punch those reporters to the face if not for the fact that Boss ordered us to stay put.

Suddenly their walky talky start to beep.

Walkie-talkie: Agent P, Agent Q. Return to the base of operation immediately. We are receiving visits from the higher ups.

Both of the agents reply with Roger and hurriedly run towards their van and drive off somewhere. Danny looks at them and decides, he has found what his next prank is going to be.

[thezombieprostitute]

Can't Stand It

A/N: Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial.

Warnings: Bad boss. Please let me know if I missed any!

Summary: Working at a fancy restaurant with a demanding boss, you're starting to reach your limits. So is your favorite customer.

You're grinding your teeth in frustration and your shift hasn't even started yet. It's not that you don't like the work you do, it's just the people you have to work with, specifically your boss. If you could be a waitress for a boss that didn't insist on waving his dick around, sometimes literally, you'd be happy to do the job.

Instead, Mr. Hansen has you working the worst shifts for collecting tips and making sure your schedule is unpredictable. You know it's because you turned down his advances. Go figure, he can't handle being turned down.

Some of your favorite customers have asked after you, including Mr. Levinson, or Ari, as he insists you call him. You heard through some of your coworkers that Mr. Hansen got some harsh words from Ari because you weren't working your usual shifts. You smile at the thought of someone putting that asshole in his place.

You're doing your prep working and just trying to avoid Hansen so you don't have to fake your smile so much to your customers. Most of them don't care about fake smiles, but the big tippers always seem to appreciate the genuine ones.

Talia interrupts your work telling you, "Mr. Levinson just arrived. I made sure to seat him in your section."

"Thank you, so much!" You're definitely smiling for real now.

She gives a playful scoff. "I did it as much for me as for you. If Levinson found out you were working and I didn't seat him in your section I don't doubt I'd get an earful."

"Still, thank you so much."

Heading out the dining area, you make right for Ari. You'd never admit it, but between his ocean blue eyes, long hair, and strong physique, he's definitely shown up in several of your dreams. Your face heats up as you recall some of them. You have to stop for a moment and shake your head to clear up your thoughts.

Ari smiles wide when he sees you. "It's about time I got to see you again!"

"Yeah, my schedule's been crazy," you tell him as you hand him a menu. You omit the reason for the crazy schedule as it wouldn't do to set Hansen off again.

"So I gathered," his voice softens as he takes the menu from you.

The two of you chat a little before you get his drink order and head to the kitchen to grab it.

"There you are!" Hansen yells as soon as you're in the kitchen. "Where the hell have you been? Your prep work is sloppy and, worse yet unfinished. You wanna tell me what you've been doing?"

"My job," you snipe back. "I have a customer and I need to get their drink."

"We don't get customers at this time," he shoots back. "I made sure to schedule you for now specifically because of that."

"Well you can go out and look for yourself, Mr. Hansen. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta get the man his drink."

Bringing Ari's drink to him, you try to plant your smile back as it was before your encounter. Unfortunately for you he's very observant.

"What happened?" His tone is kind and your smile turns a little more genuine.

"Just a little spat is all," you shrug. "It happens, you know?"

His expression turns stern. "Is someone giving you trouble?"

"Well, yes, but that's what bosses do, right?" You try to make sure there's a joking tone in your voice but his expression indicates he isn't buying it.

"Do you like your job? Do you enjoy working here?"

"Honestly," your voice quavers. "I can't stand it. My coworkers are okay but my boss is killing me. He keeps jumping my shifts around and is metaphorically on my ass all the time because I refused to let him literally be on me."

Ari's fist tightens in frustration. "Come work for me." You'd say it's an offer but his anger makes it sound more like an order. When you hesitate he continues, "I need someone reliable and friendly as my secretary. My current one keeps putting off clients with his cold, sarcastic demeanor. I can promise you it'll pay better than this job. And your schedule will be a lot more stable."

You hear a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by Hansen shouting at everyone and everyone.

"I'm in," you tell him, holding out your hand.

Ari takes your hand in his, giving it a firm shake. "Happy to have you aboard. Can I watch as you tell Hansen you're quitting?"

You laugh, "sure!"

As he follows you into the kitchen, you don't notice Ari's eyes on you. He was just hoping to ask you for a date, but he's not one to turn down an opportunity to get to spend more time with you. He's hopeful you'll feel the same about him.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[writingwisterias]

Hey hey!!

You can ignore this if you aren't comfortable but I was wondering if you have any ideas for how different eras Leon would react or handle drunk gf? Smth like been out with the girlies or asking him for a ride home? Go crazy!

Low key started thinking about it after a minor drunken injury weeks ago (all good!)

Hi Anon!

I'm sorry this late, I hope you are okay lmao! We have all been there at some point 👀...I've never fallen down some stairs or whatever

Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Fluff, Drunk!Reader,

Fem!Reader

RE2:

You went to a house party, Leon didn't feel like going though so he stayed behind

He trusted you not to do anything stupid and find your own way back.

That was until he got a call from you that you had been left by your friends and needed him to come and pick you up

He left immediately, pulling up to the location in his jeep with a smile at your state

Had to catch you as he helped you into the car as you tripped on the pavement

The entire ride you are chatting to him about all the gossip. He doesn't care who kissed who that night. Your smile and adorable giggles made his night

Caved when you asked for fast food - with the idea it will sober you up a little bit at least.

RE4R:

I feel like he would like a quieter life but when he meets you and you drag him around everywhere.

He doesn't complain he just goes with the flow, he'll have a few drinks etc to make the time more bearable but never as much as you.

It's cute though, how you'll go out onto the dance floor with a bunch of your friends all stumbling about together

Then you will stumble back over to him, placing a kiss that tasted like whatever you were drinking. A hug that was more you leaning on him than an actual hug

He never prompted you to come back, he was content observing you from the bar, his ass going numb from the bar stool.

When it is time to go home, he's dragging you to a cab. Your leaning on him chattering about whatever was on your mind

Thoughts going by so fast he can barely keep up with you. Changing topics like every 5 seconds

Infinite Darkness:

Encourages you to drink more, he's the type that's willing to be the sober one if he needs to be or at least only limiting himself to a few drinks to make sure you get back safely

He has to drag you out the bar towards the end of the night, your goodbye with the girls is dragging on far too long

The walk back is painful, your stumbling everywhere and so slow to the point he just beds his back and braces his knees

You're hard to carry on his back only because you find it so funny but eventually you pass out

When you do you are like dead weight but don't worry he can take it, he's fought things that are heavier than you

Damnation:

He's drunk with you lets be honest, you are both as bad as each other

Prefers to stay at home and drink so you will too

If you host a girls night he'll happily leave the room and sit in your bedroom so you have the space

The girls don't mind him being there they understand you barely see each other so they are fine with him joining in

When he does, he'll suggest things like board games or card games

For Christmas he'll get you loads of drinking games to play either together or with your friends

Finds it funny when you get the couple drinking games

RE6:

You woke him up from sleeping on the sofa when you called him to pick you up

He's fighting you for an answer as to where you are.

Eventually he just drives to the usual bars not hanging up of course

Finds you just aimlessly wandering down the streets. Pulls over and has to gently guide you into the car

Your moaning about how you have your boyfriend on the phone and he's coming to get you until you realize it's him

He'll give you his jacket in the car so you stay warm, after all the outfit your wearing wouldn't have kept you warm

Loves the gossip you collect and will let you ramble about. There's just something distracting about who kissed who compared to his usual thoughts or conversations with his friends

Vendetta:

The guy would be drunk with you, out and about with your friends whatever. He's with you

And considering he's drank a lot in the film before he starts doing anything I would say he's the type of drunk that you can't actually tell he is until you see the drink

So he's more helpful than you in going home

He's dragging you down the street, pulling you into his side so you stay close

If you fall over he's just sighing and laughing at you

It's almost like two toddlers walking down a street together, they don't know where they are going or how to get there but they do eventually

If you ask for his jacket he'll give it to you but he won't just do it on his own will. He's not really thinking straight

Death Island:

He's smart enough to turn on your phone location before you go out so when you do call him, he's there like instantly

He will sit you down on the bathroom counter and force you to tell him what your skin care routine is as he knows you'll be upset you didn't do it

Will eventually get you to write a step by step process and pin it to his bathroom mirror so he knows in advance

Probably just throws on one of his t shirts instead of finding your own clothes

Listens to your drunken talks until eventually you fall asleep cuddles into him

[revelboo]

HELLO I was the anon who got a random blockee and was hoping for the soundwave figures and while I didn't get him I got Scavenger and he has my whole heart 😭😭😭 he's my lil booboo 🥰🥰 (I will be ordering soundwave tho and more I'm doomed)

He’s lonely. He needs friends 😃 Scrapper finally showed up after his tracking stopped updating Dec 31st and he disappeared off the face of the Earth. Two more to go.

Drive Pt 4

Constructicons x Reader

• “Thank you?” Part of you wants to ask if they’d hurt anyone stealing this stuff for you, but honestly? You’re scared to. Because it looks like Long Haul and Bonecrusher probably went on a crime spree. And Bonecrusher just keeps producing stuff out of nowhere to add to the pile. Food, clothes, small electronics, soaps and candles. Maybe they’d just demolished a mall? They mean well and they’re trying to take care of you, but you really hope they didn’t hurt anyone. Even as a guilty part of you is ridiculously excited about the food and soap.

• Bending, Long Haul begins setting your new things in the mini habsuite they’d made you. Noting that Scrapper and Scavenger had been busy while he’d been out and had tapped into the base water lines to make you a tiny wash rack and waste disposal area. Your little habitat now even bigger as they all keep adding to it. “You needed food and human stuff,” Long Haul mutters, embarrassed when you offer him a small smile. And it’s not like he’d minded. Getting to really let loose and destroy things had felt good. Freezing when you limp closer and lay a soft hand on his ped, he hesitantly brushes a servo over your head before turning away. “It’s either feed you or watch you die,” he adds gruffly, uncomfortable with your affection.

• Venting as you smile up at Long Haul, Bonecrusher reaches to gently scoop you up. Feeling little hands on his servos as he carries you over to his berth and lays back carefully rubbing your jaw. So small you feel insubstantial in his hands, and something about that fragility fascinates him. “You missed us?” He asks, stilling as you grab his servo and smile up at him like you’re not the least bit frightened. That trust shocking him. How can you be so small and not cower?

• Watching Long Haul pimping out your alien, Barbie dream house, you wrap your arms around Bonecrusher’s servo to keep him from petting from neck to navel and further south. It’s not like he knows better or means anything by it, but putting a stop to it as quickly as possible seems a smart move. “It was quiet,” you say opting for honesty. Because the six of them are constantly laughing and jostling each other. Loud and raucous in a way that reminds you of a frat house. Complete with the alcohol, or high grade as they’d called it. After realizing you’re safe as long as you play along at being their collective pet, you’d started consciously trying to make friends. After all, your survival depends on them.

• “Must have been boring,” Long Haul calls from the floor as he arranges boxes of food stuffs in a tidy pile in a corner. You’ll need storage space so this stuff isn’t just lying around. “I’m thinking cabinets and shelves,” he adds, looking at where Mixmaster and Hook are working on reports. Waiting for Mixmaster to vent at him, but set aside his report to help.

• Glancing at his brothers fussing with your space again, Hook checks on you and Bonecrusher. Making sure the much bigger mech isn’t being too rough with you, but so far he’s been shockingly gentle. And right now the huge mech is making a grumbling purr of his engines at you. Something he’d call out anyone else for. Getting punched in the face by Bonecrusher not exactly on his to do list, though, because his brothers definitely don’t warrant the same gentleness you do.

Previous

[megs-1800]

Amnesia

Note: This is my longest fic, I have had it in my draft for ages and just kept adding bits. I wasn't sure where I wanted it to go. Feedback is always appreciated as I not sure about the ending. Requests are open. Used the song Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer for ideas.

Summary: You broke up with Mason after he cheated on you and broke your heart. What happens when Mason has a car accident and gets amnesia and he doesn't remember the breakup. Is he going to be able to win you back? Is he going to get his memory back?

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 11.9K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Swearing, mentions in injury and SMUT!!

Mason's POV

As I lay on my bed I still remember every moment of that day, I still cannot bring myself to sleep on your side of the bed. Its been 2 weeks since we broke up and I am still a wreck. The memories still haunting me,  the way your eyes were so puffy from crying, the way my heart broke in that moment, memories of that day come flooding back.

That’s the problem as soon as I let my mind stop for a moment I am forced to have memories of you. I know it was my fault I cheated, but I never wanted to loose you. I made a mistake and I am now definitely paying for it. You are the love of my life, I cannot cope without you.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving as I open the door from training I saw all the bags packed in the entrance hall. I can see you standing on the staircase shaking, I could tell you were nervous. You found out I cheated a couple of days prior and you said you needed space which I gave you. I knew from the look on your face what you decided.

I remember the makeup running down your face your mascara all smudged and your eyes all puffy I can tell you have been crying for a while, I run straight over to you and wrap you up in my arms. You quickly push me away, I knew that would happen, I just had to try. “Please baby no don’t leave me please y/n”. You look at me with sad eyes, I can see your heart is breaking just as much as mine “don’t make this any harder then it is Mase. I will get someone else to come and collect the rest of my stuff”.

And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them, like every single wish we ever made I watched as you walked away. I watched how you left everything behind, how you left us behind. All those dreams we spoke about over the past 3 years of being together, getting married, having children, growing old together. That’s all gone now, its nothing more than words now how am I going to cope?

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia and forget about the stupid little things like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you as I lay in bed all I want is to forget all these memories together, looking over to your side of the bed knowing I will never fall asleep next to you again, I love you more than anything but the thought of you is hurting me more than I can imagine. You are always there, every moment of every day I think about you. How you smell, the sparkle in your eye, the way you smile, the small little laugh that is contagious to me. My heart is breaking over the thought of you.

And the memories I never can escape. Cause I’m not fine at all I am really not fine at all I do not know how I am going to cope without you. I have tried to message and call you everyday since the breakup but you keep ignoring my calls/messages. This house is tainted now as everywhere I look is memories of you. How am I going to forget you, am I am going to live with the memories of you.

6 months later

My phone bings and I can see that message from my driver that he is outside. I am just finishing getting ready. I give myself a quick look in the mirror before I make my way downstairs. It’s a dinner with all the United boys to celebrate the new season I was really looking forward to it.

The weather was awful the rain was torrential, I am sitting there chatting away with the driver when everything goes black.

-

As I open my eyes I can hear beeping from a machine, the light is so bright it takes me a couple of minutes to adjust to the lighting. I then realise I am in in hospital. I look down at my body, I look physically fine I am just hooked up to loads of machines and my head is pounding.

I see my mum quickly stand up from her sitting position from across the room, “mase, oh my god I am so glad you are awake how are you feeling?” I can hear the worry in her voice. I look around the room, I can see mum and dad, Lewis, Jaz and some girl I do not know how she is.

“I am okay mum, my head is pounding. What happened? How did I get here?” Mum looks relieved that I said I am okay. “You were in a car accident, you were on the way to dinner with the united boys. The weather was bad and your car skidded and crashed. The driver was fine but you have been in a coma for a week. Oh my boy”. She starts crying into me which I try and console her but my body hurts so much.

“Oh baby, we have been worried sick. I am so glad you are okay” the girl I do not know says as she reaches and places her hand in mine. I look at confused as I have no idea who she is and I have no idea why she is calling me baby. That’s when I realised you are not here. Why are you not here, where you in the accident.

“Y/n.. where is y/n. Is she okay? She wasn’t in the car was she?” I am now panicking. I can see everyone look around as if I am stupid. They all give eachother a confused look which is worrying me more.

“Darling, you and y/n have been broken up for 6 months. You haven’t spoken to eachother since then as far as we know. You are dating Brittany for the past couple of months”. I can see the pity on my mums face as she gestures towards the women I do not know, I guess she is Brittany. What do they mean me and you broke up? There is no way! You are the love of my life.

“What do you mean we broke up! No way we cannot be broken up. I am sorry Brittany I am sure you are a lovely women but mum me and y/n cannot done can we?” I can now feel myself getting emotional, I can see Brittany roll her eyes which makes me slightly angry.

At this the doctor walks in, “how are feeling today. Good to see you awake and I am sure your family have caught you up with everything. Physically you are all okay and we couldn’t see anything on your CT scans so I just need to see how you are doing?”

I go to speak but my mum buts in which does me favour as I am still in shock “his memory is gone. He thinks he and his girlfriend are still together but they broke up 6 months ago. What happened doc will he be okay?” I can hear the panic in my mums voice, and I can see it in everyones eyes, well apart from that Brittany. I hate that I have worried them this much.

The doc nods showing he is understanding “by the sound of it he has temporary amnesia, it is common in cases like this. Usually the memories will all come straight back at a trigger of something, but there is no guarantee. What is the last thing you remember?” He turns to me.

I think really hard, I cannot really remember “I think my last memory was Christmas. You know we took the girls to see Santa and we all had Christmas Day at yours. I think that’s generally the last thing I can remember.” I can see them all nod probably reliving the memory like I am.

“That was 7 months ago” I hear my mum say. The Doctor looks over to them “7 months is not too bad, we have people who loose years. It might come back, but for now Mason its good to be around things and people you know. Go back to that routine 7 months ago and hope that something might trigger your memories for the past 7 months”. The doctor finish doing his checks and left.

We are all looking over at eachother, “the doctor said I need things that are familiar. Can someone please get y/n down here please. I need to see here”. I see they all look between them what could of happened? But then I see my mum nod and walk out the room. I assume she is making the call.

Your POV

I was a mess after me and Mason broke up, I knew I was the one who left but I had to. Mason cheated and broke my heart. I could never look at him the same again. I wish I could just go back in time and never argue that night, maybe he never would of gone out and slept with her. I miss him more than words can say.

I have been strong since the breakup, every call and message Mason sent I made sure to ignore it. I couldn’t let myself reply otherwise I would fall for him all over again, I couldn’t let myself do this as losing him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

I had a long week at work, especially with my boss calling in sick me and my colleague have basically had to run the service. I am so glad its Friday and I have today off so looking forward to my well-deserved long weekend. I have had a lazy morning, made breakfast in bed and just got out the shower when I see my phone ring.

Hoping that its not work related I am shocked to see Debbie’s name show up on my phone, Debbie and I spoke briefly since the breakup, mainly just saying how Mason was a mess and kept asking me what happened. I kept explaining that it wasn’t my place to say and she needs to ask Mason. I know Debbie loved me, but I know when it comes down to it she will always pick Mason’s side. I quickly answer the call apprehensively “hey Debbie everything okay?”

“Hiya lovely, um no not really. Mason was in an accident” I can feel my heart dropped, eventhough Mason broke my heart I never wanted him to be hurt. I can feel my heart beating erratically and I can feel tears in my eyes. “He is physically okay, a bit bruised but he should be okay.” I let a breath out that I didn’t even realise that I was holding, I am so relieved he is okay. “The problem is he has amnesia the last thing he remembers is Christmas Day, he cannot remember the break up. He thinks you are still together. The doctor recommended that he stays with what is familiar and that might help bring back his memories. He said you are what is familiar to him, he really wants to see you. I get what happened between you is hard, but please I just want him better”. I can hear her voice break at the end of the sentence. I really want to help but I do not know if I can see him.

“I understand that Debbie, but I do not think I can let myself see him again. I let that part of my life go now Debbie I have moved on. I cannot let myself just go backwards”. I feel so harsh because all I want is to Mason but I buried those memories deep and I really do not want to open those feeling again.

“I know darling, Mason eventually told us what happened between you two. We were furious with him believe me. The biggest mistake he ever made was letting you go. Y/n look I am not asking for you to forgive him, I am not even asking for you to take him back. All I am asking for is for you to come down here and see him y/n please that’s all I am asking”.

I really don’t want to do it, but there is a small part of me that needs to check Mason is okay, and it would be nice to see them all okay. I take a deep breath “okay I will be there in a couple of hours. Please text me the address” Debbie thanked me and a couple of minutes later I received a message from her with the hospital address.

I quickly got ready and packed some spare clothes just in case I stay down in Manchester and I quickly made a move.

Mason’s POV

Mum said you were on your way, I was counting down the minutes to see you. No one has still told me why we are not together. I cannot believe we would of broken up, you are the love of my life well I suppose I should say you were the love of my life now. I hate referring to you in past tense. I can feel my heart breaking.

All of my family start to leave so I can get ready before y/n arrives , you are due anytime now but the women I do not know still remains. Its awkward I feel bad that I have no idea who she is. Once everyone leaves she walks over to me and sits down, she puts my hand into hers. “Masey how are you feeling?” I wince at her use of my nickname “my head is really hurting but I think I am going to be okay. I am really sorry I cannot remember you. I am really am”. I feel awful that I am dating someone I cannot even remember. “That’s okay Mase I will get you to remember” before I know it she is kissing me, I am not kissing back. In my head me and y/n are still together I couldn’t of done that to her.

As this Brittany pulls away I see the longing in her eyes, I can tell she is really into me. I am about to say something when I see y/n walking into the room. “uh sorry I will give you guys a minute” you go to walk back out the room. I am quick to respond “please y/n don’t go!” I didn’t realise I was shouting but it came out louder then I wanted but I just didn’t want you to leave. I can see you nod and you sheepishly come over to me. I can see you are not making eye contact with me or Brittany.

“Thank you coming its really good to see you. Sorry I know it’s a long drive you must be exhausted” I say

“I did it for your mum, not for you but its okay the drive wasn’t too bad. Did you want me to come back at a better time?”

You are so beautiful, you are only in a tracksuit and your hair in a bun as I know you love being comfortable when travelling but you look like the most beautiful girl in the world. We both stayed silent just looking at eachother when Brittany replies to you in a bitchy tone “yeah if you could come back a bit later. It’s the first time since Masey’s woken up that we actually got 2 minutes to ourselves”. I look at Brittany with a shocked look, how rude of her to say that and I can see you are taken back by that. You nod and go to walk out of the hospital which I grab your hand to stop you “please y/n don’t leave” I can see you look at Brittany and you are now hesitating with what to do. I turn to Brittany “I asked y/n to come, she has come a long way please don’t speak to her like that and make her leave. We have a lot to catch up on”. I can see you blush a little as you look down, Brittany looks pissed and rolls her eyes “for fuck sake Mason you are choosing to be with her then me. You are with me now Mason. You know whatever”. At that she throws her body around and storms out of the hospital room.

I see you giggle “You always loved someone with a bit of drama. You are going to pay for that later you know”. I smile back knowing that I probably will with the way Brittany just throw herself out of the room. You sit down next to me, I can tell you are nervous. “How have you been? You look beautiful” You give me a small smile, I can tell you are thinking about what to say next.

“I’m doing good Mase, how are feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” I see that you passed over the comment with me calling you beautiful. “I am okay, I am a bit stiff but physically I am fine. I am guessing mum told you about the memory stuff” You nodded in agreement. “What happened to us y/n? They are saying we broke up but no one will tell me why? We couldn’t of broken up we were going to get married, have kids. We were going to live happily ever after what happened?”

“You happened Mase.”

“No way.. I would of never broke up with you”

“Well technically I broke up with you but you are the one who cheated.” I am in disbelief, I couldn’t of cheated on you. I cannot believe I would of done this to us. I broke us.

“No way, I wouldn’t of done that to you. I love you so much y/n”

“Well you did. You slept with someone else. I loved you too Mase but you broke us” hearing you saying ‘loved’ in past tense makes my heart break.

“What happened why did I cheat? Who did I cheat with” I am still in disbelief.

“We had a huge fight, it was just one of those things that built up. You were stressed with injuries and the press and I was stressed with work and being away from my family we just kind of took it out on eachother. We both said a lot of things we shouldn’t of said and you decided to go out with the boys which made the argument worse. I said ‘if you go out don’t bother coming back’, I guess you took that literally. You went out had too many drinks and got a hotel with her. I don’t really know what happened but that’s what you said. You slept with Brittany actually”. I can see that hurt you reliving that.

“Brittany?! So I cheated on you with her? And then what started dating her again?” I am such a horrible person for that, I must of broken you.

“Yeah not right away though. You cheated a couple of weeks after Christmas which your mum said is your last memory, I found out a couple of weeks later. You only got with Britanny a couple of months ago. She literally put it all over social media on your first date so I found out pretty quick”.

“Shit I am sorry that must have been horrible for you. I just cannot believe I would of done that to you.. to us. I was going to propose to you. You know that trip I arranged in Paris for Valentines day, I had it all planned. I had the ring.. then what I throw it all away just like that over one stupid fight.” I am beating myself up about it, I cannot believe I would of broke your heart like that. I must have been a mess when we broke up, I can feel my heart breaking now and tears forming in my eye.

“Yeah I know, your family told me once they found out we broke up. I didn’t even have a clue that you were going to propose in Paris. But what was done was done. You cancelled the trip I think or you went on it with someone I am not too sure.”

“Surely I couldn’t of gone with someone else. That trip was ours.”

“Honestly Mason I had no idea what you did when we broke up. You tried to ring and text me but I just couldn’t bring myself to reply. Then I saw on the news that you were spotted on a date with Brittany, I was so upset because I couldn’t even think of getting with anyone else and then suddenly you are back with the girl who ruined our relationship but I guess I just loved you more then you loved me.” I can see the tears starting to form in your eyes as you start to look up to prevent the tears from rolling down.

“No y/n please, I loved you more then you will ever know. You were the love of my life. I made a mistake I-I-I cannot b-b-believe I would of done that to y-y-you.” I am struggling to get my words out as my tears are rolling down my face. I can see your face start to soften and I can see your tears starting to roll down your cheek too. You are rubbing the back of my hand with you thumb. This is something that you used to do all the time to try and reassure me when I was upset.

We stay there in silence for what seems like forever, I just continue to look into your eyes. Those eyes that were once filled with so much light and love now seem broken, however I can still see that sparkle that you always had. We were snatched from our moment as my mum walked in. “Sorry to interrupt but visiting hours are almost over so I am not sure if either of you want anything to eat before we have to leave?” I can feel the sadness of the thought of you leaving me, I really don’t want you to leave.

“No its okay thanks though Debbie, I should be heading back to my hotel room anyway. I will probably just order room service, I have had a long day travelling but thank you”. I deny food from mum as well, right now I cannot think about eating as my heart is breaking knowing that I lost y/n and I was the reason. Food is the last thing on my mind. Mum nods and walks away, as she does this that Brittany walks in again.

She gives y/n daggers as she sees that me and you are holding hands, y/n shoots the look straight back though that’s my girl! “I best get going, I will leave you both to say goodbye” as you let go of my hand and look between me and Brittany. Right now I couldn’t give a fuck about that Brittany being in the room. “please don’t leave y/n/n, you can stay here for the night. Please I cannot let you go again” I see the pity on your face which makes me hate myself right now and Brittany looks pissed. Maybe I shouldn’t of said that.

“What the fuck Mason! You are injured and you what that to stay with you rather than me. What is going on Mason. I know you got this bloody memory thing and you don’t remember me but fucking look at me, and you telling me you would rather want that then me, come on Mase stop having me on” I was taken aback by Brittany, the way she looked you up and down everytime she said ‘that’ I was so angry, you are 10000% better then that Brittany. I know you would never agree as you are so much more natural, but in my eyes you are the most beautiful women to ever walk the planet.

I go to defend you but you beat me to it “no she is right Mase. I don’t know why you would choose me when you got someone like her. But anyway I am not like her I do not get into bed with other peoples boyfriends so I will just leave”  I cannot believe you would doubt yourself like that, I would always choose you over Brittany, but I guess I didn’t when I choose to cheat with Brittany fuck I hate myself.

I loved your little petty comment at the end, I go to laugh with make Brittany more angry “who the fuck are you talking to like that.” I can see its started to get a little heated, you step away as I know you do not like confrontation. “Hey.. come on lets all calm down” I say defusing the situation.

“I am going to go. I will come down tomorrow though okay Mase. Sleep well” I nod, I go to say ‘I love you’ but quickly stop myself. I watch as you walk out the room and I can feel the tears forming in my eyes again. I turn my attention back to Brittany “that was rude for you to speak to her like that” I start. Brittany rolls her eyes “oh Mase you know I am a thousand times better than her, you are lucky to have me. I get you got a past with her but me and you got together and you choose to be with me. So why are you now defending her?”

I just look at her with disgust, she is the reason me and you are not together right now. I know I am too blame too but it took 2 to ruin the relationship. “Please just go” I beg.

She rolls her eyes again I hate when she does that. “Whatever Mase, give me a ring when you come to your senses”. At that she turns on her heals and walks out the hospital room. At this time I am grateful for the silence, but then suddenly I feel a longing for you. All I want is you.

Your POV

It was so hard seeing Mason today, suddenly all these feelings come flooding back. All I want is to drive back to that hospital and kiss him but I have to stay strong. Seeing Brittany broke me too, knowing that the other women was there made me feel sick but I think I handled it well.

I checked into my hotel room and flopped straight onto the bed, I am so mentally drained after the long drive and seeing Mason all I want is to go to sleep. I quickly check my phone as I realised I hadn’t checked it since I got to Manchester. I got a couple of messages but one stood out the most, only sent 20 mins ago, from Mason. “Safe journey to the hotel, let me know once you are there. Thank you for making the trip down to see me, especially after all I have done. You have no idea how much I appreciate it x” I keep looking over the text as I am really not sure to reply, he does deserve to know I got here okay though, because chances are if I do not reply soon he will be ringing me to make sure I am safe. I quickly send a quick reply “I am at the hotel now x” I kept it basic I cannot let myself get sucked in again.

I go straight for a shower and I loved the feeling of the hot water on my shoulders, I hear my phone bing again which chances are it was Mason replying. I took my time in the shower, once I am out I wrap the hotel robe around me and collapse on the bed. I let my feelings out and I can feel the tears rolling down my face, all those emotions I kept in seeing Mason today. I can feel myself start to drift off to sleep when there is a knock at the door. I quickly open it and I can see room service “I am sorry I didn’t order this” the man looks confused and double checks the receipt “yeah room 107, it was a prepaid order over the phone for a ummmm Mr Mount” I nod and let the man bring the trolley of food in. Once he leaves I look over the trolley there is so much food.

I quickly message Mason “You didn’t need to do that x” I message he is quick to read the message and reply “I didn’t know what you fancied so I just ordered one of everything xx” I shake my head at his reply but I know he was just doing it to be nice and to be honest I am ready grateful as I head my stomach rumbling. “I am going to get fat with eating all this food x”  he replies straight away “And you will still be the most incredibly sexiest girl in my eyes xxx” I smile at his reply, he is giving me butterflies all over again. He has always been smooth at compliments and eventhough I am insecure about how I look he has always made me feel like I am beautiful.

We continue the rest of the night chatting away over text it felt natural to speak to him, just living in the moment then it suddenly hit me with what happened and I quickly made an excuse that I needed to sleep which he agreed with. As I shut my eyes all the feelings with him came flooding back all over again, I spend another night crying myself to sleep.

When I wake up I feel this sudden urge of dread, I know Mason doesn’t remember but I do, I remember all the hurt he caused. I cannot see him again, I cannot let myself feel like that again. I see Mason’s text saying how he was excited to see me again today. I feel bad but I have got to lie I cannot see him again, not right now. I am still not over him, I am nowhere near over him. “Hey Mase, I am so sorry work called and they need me back like now. I am leaving to go home now. I am so sorry look after yourself and if you need anything let me know. I hope you get your memory back, but maybe at the same time I don’t so at least that way you don’t need to hurt the way that I do. I will always love you Mase xx” and with that I put my phone on silent ready for the drive home.

Mason’s POV

When I saw that text I felt my heart drop, I cannot believe she is already going. Maybe I came on too strong ordering her room service but I knew she wouldn’t eat otherwise and I was just trying to look out for her. It was such a lame excuse to use work as I know that’s not the reason. I read you like a book I know there is no work issue and that you were only saying that to get out of seeing me. I must of hurt you so bad.

I quickly respond back to you, I do not want to cause anymore conflict between us so I type “Okay I am gutted I am not seeing you. Can you do me a favour please don’t feel pressured and you do not need to make a decision now just promise me you will think about it. You are the only bit of normal I have at the moment, can you please just come down and let me take you out for dinner please that all I am asking. I just want to talk, I just want to fill in the gaps. Please y/n”.

I watch as you are typing, you are typing for ages which is making me anxious. Then you just reply in one word… “Okay”.

I try and message you to let you know I have been released from hospital and update you which you just read and do not reply. It made me feel awful that I know you are reading my messages but not responding. I wish I could just make everything okay, at the same time I wish I could have my memory back so I can feel the way you are hurting, so I can understand why I did what I did.

Readers POV

A couple of weeks passed since your saw Mason, he tried to message you a couple of times to let you know he has been released from hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to answer, seeing him that day made all of these feelings come back. I am not sure if I can let him in again. Out of the blue I saw a text from Declan, I hadn’t heard from him since the breakup. Lauren messaged me every now and again as we were close when me and Mason were dating , but when I moved back home it was hard to stay in touch. The messaged said “Come on y/n please answer Mason. All I have heard since he has been released from hospital is about you. I get what happened between you was shit and Mason is an arsehole for cheating on you. We were all on your side, but he is my mate y/n/n and he is struggling with the memory thing at the moment and all he knows at the moment is you. So please y/n/n I like to think we were good friends before that all happened, so if you do not want to do it for him, do it for me :) x” I smiled at the text and had a little giggle at the end. “Okay Dec, but I am doing it for you not him. I promise the next message he sends me I will reply”. And with that Mason’s name suddenly appears on my phone, him and Mason must have been together. “Declan said you would reply to my message. I know I fucked up y/n I know, I cannot remember why I did what I did but all I can do is apologise. All I have is happy memories with you at the moment, I need someone to help me get my memories back. The doctor said to keep doing things which feel ‘normal’ to me, and well you are the most ‘normal’ I can get. One date please that’s all I ask please and then I promise I will leave you alone xx” . I am debating my answer but I know Mason won’t quit until he gets what he wants that’s how he got me to go on a first date with him, and to be fair he did say he would leave me alone if I agreed. I sent him a quick text back “Okay Mount but you better make it worth my while x”. He reads it straight away and I can see he is typing, that’s when his message pops up in the chat “Have I ever let you down”;) xx”

The next couple of days Mason keeps the messages to a minimum which I am grateful for, this week has been busy with work so I am actually looking forward to taking a break and going out. Mason didn’t tell me much about the date, all he said was to dress nice and for me to be with him early afternoon. I thought this was really weird as if it was an afternoon date then why am I dressing up? The day before our date he told me I also need to bring my passport and an overnight bag, I am now seriously confused surely we cannot be going out the county? I frantically spent that evening looking for my passport and trying to decide what to wear. I opted in for a short black dress that hugs my figure perfectly and I knew Mason would love it, it used to be one of his favourites.

The next morning I can hear the dreaded sound of my alarm, I have had to get up at the crack of dawn to get up and ready and make the drive to Manchester. I thought I could pair my dress with a long overcoat to make it look slightly more casual and a nice pair of boots. I quickly post a picture to my private Instagram storey and then make a move:

The drive to Manchester was painless the traffic was on my side for a change. I arrived in Manchester around 2pm, I walked up the front steps to Mason’s and I suddenly start to feel sick this was the house we used to live at together. I start to shake but before I can turn around Mason opens the door, he obviously saw me on the ring doorbell.

“Wow look at you” Mason looks me up and down and now suddenly I feel really self-conscious. He was dressed in black skinny jeans with a white button shirt. He looked fit I cannot deny but I cannot let myself have feelings for him like that. “So give it up Mount where are we going. Dress nice. Get here for lunchtime. Passport and overnight bag. What is happening?” I know he could hear the anxiety in my voice and I watch him give me a little giggle and holds my hand in his. “Please stop worrying I promise you are going to love it. Just trust me okay” my heart drops at that last comment. “Well Mase the last time I trusted you I got cheated on” I can see that comment pissed him off. “Enough of the past that I cannot remember. Lets just live in the present, just for tonight please.” I nod giving in as there is no point keep bringing up the past that he doesn’t remember. “Okay Mase deal. Wherever we are going better be good as I am starving.”

Mason drove us to Manchester airport and we checked in through a private entrance and we were taken to a private lounge, it had some other couples there but I am guessing they all have some kind of status. I keep playing with coat as Mason knows I feel comfortable in situations like this, I hate being in places with people who have status it just makes me feel uncomfortable as I feel like a fraud as I am anything but people like this. Brittany would be the ideal girl to be taking to places like this then suddenly put the thought to the back of my mind as its making me feel worse. Mason kept rubbing the small of back to reassure me as I know he could tell I felt out of place, I wanted to push him away but I know it was only doing it because he cared. He disappeared for a couple of mins then reappeared with 2 mimosas in his hand passing me one “its never too early to drink on a date night” I giggle and take the drink from him quickly having a sip realising how strong it is “I definitely agree! Are you going to tell me where we are going yet?” He shakes his head and shoots me a wink “patience is key my beautiful girl”. He gives me butterflies in my stomach, I am now all of sudden feel nervous around him.

About an hour later and many drinks down a man comes over to where me and Mason are sitting, I can feel the alcohol has definitely gone straight to my head, maybe I should of eaten a little something before I came. “Mr Mount your plane is ready whenever you are” Mason nods and thanks him. I quickly shoot him a look “Did he just say plane? Mason you have not hired a whole bloody plane?!”

“Well you said to make sure its worth your while so I am pulling out all the stops. Now come on” he grabs both his and my weekend bags and I follow him to the terminal. I can see a small private plane on the run way and I am assuming this is for us. Mason did this for us on about our 5th date and I was completely gobsmacked, he always ensures he treats me, that was one of the things I loved most about Mason. I am easily pleased but he always made sure to treat me like a princess.

We chat the whole plane ride there, I am now starting to relax, I think the alcohol is helping the situation but I am starting to ease back into Mason it feels like old times. I am now just telling myself to enjoy tonight as we do not know what tomorrow holds so there is no point in arguing with Mason, I might as well enjoy the night.

We are now preparing for landing, we were only in the air for just over 2 hours but it felt like minutes as me and Mason non stopped chatted and laughed the whole time. “Are you going to let me know where we are now?” Mason finally gives in “Okay well you know when we first started talking and I asked you where you wanted to go for our first date and you said Pasta and Tiramisu from Italy.”

“I said that as a joke Mason” I quickly butted in.

“I know you were only joking but I was gutted I couldn’t actually do that for our first date due to footy commitments so… well… I thought it is the best setting for our kind of 1st date again”. My heart warms I cannot believe he has gone through this much effort. “I cannot believe you done this Mason like wow you didn’t need to.” Before I knew it I jumped across the seats and placed my hands either side of Mason’s face, I just stare into his eyes and then look down at his lips. I then give him a passionate kiss, he is returning the kiss straight away holding my hips, I do not know what came over me, I think it’s a mixture between my heart and some alcohol. I quickly pull away and go back to seat to prepare for landing. I can see the small cocky smirk that Mason is showing, is this his plan all along?

When we land Mason gets us a taxi to our hotel, the outside of the hotel is insane, its massive and so bright and colourful. As we walk inside the lobby is probably the size of my whole flat block, with massive colour chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I am speechless just taking it all in, me and Mason have been to some nice places before but this has had to be the nicest. “Pass me your bag, stay here. I want you to see the room for the first time after dinner. Please.. unless you need to freshen up or anything?” I can tell he really wants to wow me but is still thinking about me the whole time. I give me a small smile “I am okay I freshened up on the plane before we landed thank you though” .

Mason gives me the biggest smile like he is so proud of himself, I cannot wait to see what this room looks like. It must be amazing with the way Mason is acting. I quickly sat down on the sofa and took a video of the lobby and send it to my friend. She is an architect so she would be in love with this. I see Mason come jogging through the lobby approaching me so I stand to greet him. “Right shall we go our reservation is at 7pm so right on time” I nod and link arms with Mason and let him lead me outside to another taxi to take us to the restaurant.

The taxi pulls outside a small Italian Trevena Mason comes round to my side of the car and helps me out, I am trying to steady my feet as maybes boots were a bad idea as I am started to feel a little drunk and I am struggling to keep my balance. Mason puts his hand on my back and guides me into the restaurant, he steps in front of me at the desk. “Good evening I have a reservation for Mason Mount for 2.” The man behind the counter looks on the system and confirms “Yes I can see it here Mr Mount we have arrange a table near the back for you as requested so you both can have your privacy. Right this way I will seat you at your table”  we follow him to our table and Mason brings out my chair.

He is really getting me in my feels, we are sat at the back of the restaurant out the way with a little fireplace next to us. “This restaurant is amazing Mase how did you even find it?” I say in awe of how beautiful the scenery is. “well believe it or not its actually from Lewis. He came here a couple of months ago and said its incredible.”

“Well Lewis always did have an amazing taste in restaurants so I am sure this is going to be amazing” I smile, me and Mason just sit across from each other admiring each other. We are interrupted by the waiter taking our order. Once they walk away Mason places his hand in mine, “it was shit coming home and you weren’t there. It feels so empty without you” I quickly pull away as I can feel a lump in my throat “please Mase don’t start. Lets just enjoy tonight. No talking about this please”. Mason nods agreeing with me.

“That food was incredible” I saw leaning backwards trying to extend my stomach where I am so full, “having traditional pasta and tiramisu from Italy, no food is ever going to prepare!” Mason takes the last bite of his dessert “I am glad you enjoyed it. I cannot believe we have done 2 bottles of wine” I look over at the 2 empty bottles in disbelief “no way have we? Well our heads are probably going to pay for that in the morning. Its been an amazing night tonight Mason thank you. Its been just like old time I have really enjoyed it”.

Mason went to say something but we were interrupted by the waiter with the bill placing it on our table and explaining he will be back. “How much is it?” I ask concerned about the cost as I know I will never be able to afford a place like this on my office job wage. Mason shakes his head “don’t worry about it.” I feel a sense of guilt “mason you have paid for the plane and the hotel, this dinner is probably going to be expensive its not right if you have to pay for that too”

“You can get the next one” mason replies straight away. I feel a sense of relief knowing I haven’t got to pay as it would probably cost about a months rent but at the same time feel bad. As Mason pays the bill I explain that I am going to go the toilet. As I walk to the bathroom I can feel the alcohol hitting me. I look at myself in the mirror and all these feelings for Mason come flooding back, all of sudden all I can think about is him, I need him.. I need him now.

Mason is standing at the table as I return and he guides me out of the restaurant as we say thank you to the staff, we can see some paparazzi outside as we are leaving “shit sorry I picked this place as I thought it would be out the way. Fuck sake” I feel bad for Mason I know he hates all of this. I hold his hand in assurance he looks at me confused. “are you sure? They are going to make up stories” I look Mason in the eyes and place a small kiss to his lips “I am living for today Mase, I am enjoying tonight lets not worry about tomorrow”. Mason nods at me and I think I see a small smile on his face. He takes of his coat and places it over me to block my face from the cameras. This was a usual occurrence for me and Mason, he always made sure I was protected from them.

We quickly walk to the car ignoring the flashes and once we are in the car I do not know what came over me. I am not sure if its how protective Mason is of me or the alcohol or maybe a little bit of both but I forget that we are and I pounce on Mason.

I place one hand on his thigh and the other onto his cheek as I place a kiss, I pull away waiting for his reaction but he grabs me closer and deepens the kiss. It’s a urgent kiss as we are both fighting for air. I can feel his hand on my thigh which is urging me on more. We both explore each other bodies, and the memories of him flood me again.

We break apart to get out the taxi and through the hotel, as soon as we are in the lift Mason swipes a card and picks the top floor. As soon as the door closes we are attached again, Mason pushes me up against the wall and places his hands on my bum whilst we deepen the kiss, our tongues exploring eachothers months. I pull my fingers through his hair and hear the sound moans coming out of his mouth.

The lift dings notifying us that we are at our floor, Mason backs away and leads me out of the lift. I stood still in my tracks as I realise the lift opens straight into the room. It’s a penthouse suite, the room is bigger then my whole flat. Its got a queen size poster bed on one side of the room where on the other there is a whole living room set up. That’s when I see there is a bath in the middle of the room that looks out over the city. “Wow this room is amazing, its so beautiful Mason I am speechless I do not know what to say. Just thank you” Mason places another kiss to my lips before he replies “believe me nothing beats the way you look tonight” . Mason was never short of compliments and he always makes me feel amazing even when I do not feel it.

I do not even know what to reply, but before I know it out lips are together again. He is quick to take his shirt and jeans off just leaving him in his boxers. I just stand there for a minute admiring him “you should take a photo it will last longer” Mason says when he catches me staring, I giggle back “I used to have those photos, believe me you are like the sexiest man I have ever met”. I see Mason blush and his hands are back on me. He starts grabbing my ass with one hand whilst the other is in my hair gripping it. I can feel he slowly unzipping my dress, I can feel him struggling “do you want me to turn around?” I saw giggling, Mason rolls his eyes “Yes please”  he says with the hump.

I quickly turn around and place my hair to one side, he leaves a trail of kisses along my shoulder as he unzips my dress. I am glad I opted into not wearing a bra, so he just leaves me in my small black thong. I turn around so I face Mason, I can see his eyes looking over my body, and now I suddenly feel vert self conscious. I try to hide myself a little, Mason grabs my hands “don’t do that. You have the most incredible body”. I can feel myself blushing. He kisses me again as he plays with my nipple between his fingers, I cannot stop the moaning that is coming out of my mouth which is urging Mason on more.

He quickly picks me up by the ass and places me on the bed. He quickly climbs on top of me resting his hands either side of my head ensuring he doesn’t put too much weight on me. Mason looks me over and I can see the bulge in his boxers urging to get out “Fuck me, you are the most incredible women in the world baby girl” I move my hand to his boxers and slide my hand underneath to get to where Mason needs me most. Mason moans at the sudden touch, I start to make movement “uh y/n that feels so fucking good to have your hand wrapped around my cock” Mason quickly removes his boxers to give me more access to his dick so I can make longer strokes. As I play with his dick Mason is on my nipples, teasing and sucking them and then moving onto the next one to do the same “Mason your mouth is incredible”. He gives me a cocky smile “you wanna see what this mouth can actually do?”

Mason doesn’t even wait for my reply before he is kissing all the way over my body, I cannot control my whimpers and I can feel myself getting wet at the anticipation about what is going to happen next. He positions himself inbetween my thighs and begins to lower my thong with his teeth. He looks at my pussy and straight back up at me and he can tell I am dripping, he was always so cocky when we have sex, he loves what he can do to me. Mason without warning makes one long stride with his tongue against my pussy, my hands go straight to his hair “fuck Mason” I can feel him smiling against me as he continues his licks and sucks, he then puts his focus on my clit and I do not know how much longer I can hold it. I can feel my stomach clenching. Mason then inserts 2 fingers into me whilst his tongue works on my clit. “fuck Mason I don’t think I can hold it” I can hear him hum into me “don’t hold it babygirl I want you to cum all over my tongue” he continues that pace which has me cumming in a couple of minutes as I unfold screaming his name as I have one hand in his hair tucking away and the other holding onto the bedframe.

“I love when you scream my name” Mason says as he crawls up, he continues to kiss me which I can taste my cum on his tongue. “I think its your turn superstar” Mason still continues to kiss me but I pull away to start kissing his neck, I can feel myself getting too excited and probably leaving a hickey but Mason is continuing to moan into my neck  which is encouraging me more. As I pull away I look into Mason’s eyes “I need that cock in my mouth” I slide my hand down Mason’s body and grab his cock again and start pumping.

“Y/n/n you have no idea what you are doing to me! I would love that but I just need to be inside you right now” I let go of his dick so he can give himself a quick couple of pumps and lines himself up with you. “For me this feels like yesterday but for you this must feel like its been forever.” I can feel my heart break at that comment but right now I am too turned on to let it affect me. Mason pushes himself inside me and gives me a couple of mins to adjust to his size. “You can move Mase, please I need you to ruin me”.

He hoovers over me “you don’t have to tell me twice baby” he grabs my hips as he starts to pick up a rhythm “have I ever told you.. your pussy is out of this world” mason says panting, “You have told me on many occasions yes but its always good to hear because believe me your dick is incredible” this seems to give Mason more fuel as the pace starts to get harder and quicker. We both moaning eachothers names and how good we making eachother. I can feel his hands all over my body as mine is doing the same to him. He thrusts are starting to get sloppy and I can feel he is nearing his orgasm. “I want to feel you cum all over my dick, be a good girl for me and cum all over me” with his words I can feel myself needing to cum as well. Mason reaches down and uses his thumb to make circles on my clit which is driving me insane, I cannot hold of moans in which I am worried other people can hear. Mason always loved when I am loud. “uh Mason like that I am g-g-onna” and with that I unravel onto his dick and the feel of me cumming Mason uses this to reach his high as well, he quickly pulls out and cums all over my stomach. He flops next to me as we both lay there staring at the ceiling catching our breathes.

“T-T-hat was a-amazing, y-y are i-Incredible“ I say panting, Mason flops over so he is on his stomach and draws lines in my arm. “I am only incredible because you make me incredible” I giggle at him as I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. We haven’t been this intimate in a long time, but the problem is he cannot remember the distance.

“Did you want to have a bath overlooking the city to clean up?” I agree and Mason runs us a bath and opens the French doors to the balcony so there is a small breeze which we both sit in the round bath probably big enough to fit 6 people whilst we overlook the lights of the city.

We lay in the bath looking out over the city, I have never seen anything more perfect. Mason turns me around so I am facing him. “Can I ask you something.. you don’t have to answer just something that’s been on my mind. You know since we broke up have you seen anymore? Have you.. you know.. slept with anyone else?” I can tell he is nervous to ask this of course if he remembers I would say the same thing, I know about Brittany but was there any other girls? I grab Mason’s face between my hands and place a long passionate kiss onto his lips. “No.. no other guys. You are my entire world Mason, I couldn’t even think about dating another guy let alone sleeping with anyone else. Even though you moved on I couldn’t think of another man I would of felt like I was cheating on you”.

Mason’s face is still between my hands and he pulls me closer to return the kiss, as he pulls away I see him smile “you are incredible you know that why did I ever fuck it up”.

I stretch my body out realising Mason is not next to me, as I slowly open my eyes I let it adjust to the bright light that it radiating the room from the outside world. My body aches as I relive round 2 and 3 that occurred last night, I quickly look over and see Mason sitting on the chair at the table in the corner of the room. His head is down like he is stressed. “What time is it?” I asked I feel like I have slept for hours and with the amount of light coming into the room it must be later then I think. “Its 11 we gotta get up and go soon” his voice is low and raspy and I am confused at his bluntness. “Whats up?” I go wrap the hotel robe over my body and go and join in at the table.

Mason looks at me, I can see his eyes are red and puffy he looks stressed and upset. I am really worried. “I-I-I remember” I look at him confused “You remember what?” he looks down trying not to make eye contact with me. “I remember everything.. I woke up this morning and it all came back. E-E-Everything. Y/n/n I am so sorry” he then breaks and starts to cry. I want to console him but then I need to stop myself, we are back to reality again, we are back to the guy that cheated on me. “There was a news article released this morning, it showed pictures of us last night of when we left the restaurant. Brittany has already been on the phone screwing at me, my family are all asking me why me and you are in Italy and then everything just came flooding back. Back to reality all over again”. All I want is to jump across the table and wrap Mason in my arms but I need to be strong, he isn’t the guy from last night he is now the one who broke my heart, the one who cheated and tore our relationship.

“We best start getting ready” is all I can say quickly getting into the shower and packing up my things. The whole journey home me and Mason sat in silence it was the longest trip of my life. As soon as we pulled back into the driveway, my car now coming into view. I quickly grab my bag out the back and make my way to my car. “Y/n wait!” Mason stops me “Last night was amazing, I know you went with the guy who didn’t remember but please it must of meant something. You are the love of my life y/n. I cannot let you go again.” I start to reply but I can only let a breath out. “I-I cannot do this right now Mase” I quickly get in the car and start driving away. I can see him in the review mirror disappearing as I am make the journey home.

Its been a couple of weeks since our Italy date, Mason hasn’t attempted to message or call which has been nice that he has given me my space but I would be lying if I didn’t say I missed him. I tried to get on with my life but all I can think about was our date I know deep down no one will ever compare to Mason. Part of me wishes I never went on that date but it was so incredible I will hold that memory forever, it helped Mason get his memory back but right now I am not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I am sat at work when my phone rings I am shocked to see Lewis ringing my phone, out of everyone I expected to see on my phone he definitely wasn’t one of them. I quickly excuse myself and answer the phone “Hey y/n, long time no speak how are you?” I am really not sure how to answer.

“Yeah I am good Lew how are you? Is everything okay? Just you are the last person I expected to see on my phone we haven’t spoken since and Mason broke up”.

“Yeah I know I am sorry about that. I know he was the one that fucked up but still hard to see my baby bro so broken you know. Honestly though y/n I was gutted about the breakup out of all the girls you have always been my favourite. I know people struggled as you were not famous and about your intentions at all but honestly I could see how much you loved him, and you made him so happy”.

It was hard for me to hear all of this, but I always got on well with Lewis. “thanks Lew that means a lot. Is everything okay though?”

“Yeah everything is okay, I just wanted to say thank you. After everything Mason put you through you still dropped everything to come and see in hospital and agreed to go on that date which brought his memory back so our family just wanted to thank you.”

“Its fine honestly I care for Mason a lot, I would of hated myself if I didn’t go. Plus that restaurant you recommended was 10/10”.

“Yeah I did say to Mason I thought you would love it. Look I know you have probably heard this speech before but-“

“Look Lew let me stop you right there because I know what you are going to say-“

“Please y/n just let me finish. Okay Mase is a mess without you. He broke up with that Brittany bitch which I was so relieved for, we could tell she was only using him for the fame. I understand he fucked up and I am not asking for you to get back with him but could you just try and be friends? He said he didn’t message you since you guys got back as everytime he messaged you, you ignore him and it breaks him all over again. I am his big brother so I gotta ask, its just he was always stronger when he was with you”.

“I don’t k-k-know, I love him so much I just cannot let myself get hurt again but because its you I promise I will think about our conversation okay”

“That’s all I ask thank you y/n. Mason was so stupid letting you go. Take care”

I reply a “You too” and then I cut the call. Now my mind is all over the place. I have no idea what to do. I quickly ring my boss and explain that I have a family emergency and explain that I got to go. Before I know it I am on my way to Manchester.

As I approach Mason’s door I go to knock then turn around, I then bring myself to knock again but stop before I do the action. What am I doing here? I turn around to walk back to the car when the door opens. “Y/n?” He must of saw me on the ring door bell.

“Sorry I don’t actually know why I am here.” I stand there staring at him. My mind is going 100 miles per hour I cannot think straight.

“Did you want to come in?” Mason moves to the side offering me inside.

“I don’t know” I continue to stand still just staring at Mason. Mason giggles.

“Well okay, I will leave the door open if you want to come in you are more then welcome.” Mason walks away and I can see him making his way into the living room. I shortly follow him in and shut the door. I slowly walk into the living room and sit down on the sofa opposite him.

“You decided to come inside, good choice” I can tell his he being cocky, I am not sure if this is to cover up his anxiousness though.

“Your brother called me-“ I start but Mason quickly replies.

“I know sorry I didn’t know he was going to do that. I promise I didn’t ask him to. I just confided in him last night. Told him how much I fucked up, and that the date the other week was the first time I have felt myself since the break up. I am sorry he shouldn’t of rung you”.

“Its okay I am glad he did, I still care about you Mason. I am sorry you are struggling”.

“Its okay it was my own fault. I really cannot hate myself anymore then I do right now. I broke up with Brittany by the way”.

“Yeah I know Lewis said, but please stop beating yourself up about what happened.  Its in the past there is no point you focusing your whole life on it.”

“You are my whole life y/n and I let you go over one stupid fight. I fucked my entire life, my entire future over one fucking silly night”.

“Mason stop come on” At this point I have now moved closer and let him cry into me. “Please stop crying.”

“Sorry I don’t want you to think I am manipulating you or anything I am just a mess”

“I am came here mase, you didn’t force me here so you are not manipulating me. I am surprised you even know what manipulating means.” And I can see both of us giggle

“You are not funny” Mason said wiping his eyes

“I am a little” Me and Mason just sit there in silence staring at eachother. Its weird to think that only a couple of weeks ago we were sat having dinner with not a care on the world and now it feels like we got the weight of it all on our shoulders.

“Y/n why did you come?”

“Honestly I don’t know. Your brother said a lot of stuff that made me realise how good we were together but I just cannot forget that night. You shattered me, I am still picking up the pieces”.

“I know baby I know, honestly if you give me a chance we can go back to the good and I promise I will spend every day making it up to you. I will never let you feel that way ever again”.

“I am just so conflicted Mase because my heart is screaming to take you back but my head is telling me to remember how you hurt me.”

“I know I hurt you y/n I know but please I will spend everyday showing you that I am worthy of your love”.

I do not reply to Mason as I have no words I learn across the sofa and place my lips onto his, he continues to kiss me back. “Does that mean you take me back?”

“This means we will see how things go. We start from the beginning again. No pressure, no expectation we just see how it goes. You were the best thing that ever happened to me I guess I should allow myself to give it  a chance.”

Mason gives me the biggest smile and continues to hug me. “Who would of known that Amnesia would of brought us together”.

I smirked at him “Well at this rate we could think that you faked the Amnesia to win me back”. I wink at him.

“Believe me baby girl if I faked it, I would of faked it a long time ago to get you back. Now come on I got a lot of making up to do” Mason said carrying me bridal style to the bedroom for a night of Mason winning me back.

[vatelixx]

There will be no soft epilogue,

Post-prison (traumatised) Spencer Reid x afab!BAU reader

More angst than smut (i hurt myself in the process, we all suffer), but there’s still copious amounts of both. Explorations of Spencer’s trauma & his anger in relation. Autistic Spencer is a given, even if it’s not touched upon explicitly (its indisputably canon to me).

Warnings: heavy sub spencer (confirmed me classic), corruption kink (idk how i managed to sneak that one in here), possessive undertones (eg, mentions of owning), praise kink, choking, Spencer is so in love it might actually be fatal, lots (lots) of begging, Reader is mean but low-key submissive to him in an emotional sense. They’re both damaged, but its okay, bcos they’ve romanticised it.

w.c: 4.9k

a/n: sorry, my hiatus went on for longer than i initially expected. i was just burnt out and evil. there wasn’t supposed to be smut in this, but i’m clearly the biggest whore around.

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Spencer used to think he knew everything. That there wasn’t a piece of information too obscure, too intricate that his brain, his renowned, academically awarded, brain couldn’t comprehend. Maybe he was naive, or maybe, maybe there was less fault in his logic, and more fault in his decisions. Decisions that tarnished his youth, that slowly tore away at him, year by year, until there was nothing left of him to be remembered by.

Everything hurts tonight. And sure, he’s angry again, angry at himself, at what he experienced, the weight of the job that stifled the soft parts of him, and the weight of who he is now. He can’t look in the mirror anymore, stare back at the waning reflection, the reflection that is supposed to be him. But it’s not. God, it’s not.

He wants to be whole again, untainted, free from resent, the BAU’s fresh meat. Wide-eyed and credulous, trusting himself to always be clean. He wants to go back to the time when his life orbited around chess, halloween, that late hour of night when he could bury himself in academia. When everything felt untouchable and timeless.

Your concern is justifiable. The BAU’s concern is justifiable. And yet, it’s not enough, a string of ‘im here for you’ texts aren’t going to ease the weight of his trauma, nor will any form of pity.

When you show up at his apartment, it’s late. 3AM. There’s no legitimate excuse for your impromptu reason, no vindicable reason that could explain why you’re here. It’s sick to say you ‘had a feeling’, to reduce this to gut instincts, maybe you can get away with that on the field, but not here.

He gave you a key last year. It’s so morbid, to think back. To not look forward. When the door clicks open, there’s misplaced relief; at least he wasn’t cruel enough to change the locks. Even though he is admittedly cruel enough to refuse your calls.

“It’s me,” you say, deftly avoiding a stack of books. “Not an intruder. Well, technically, in a court of law, I could probably be tried as one.” you huff out a sigh, “But that’s unnecessary information. Hopefully.”

Spencer’s head has been pounding for hours, or maybe days, its hard to distinguish the weeks lately. Time is a construct that he can no longer keep accurate track of.

“An intruder wouldn’t announce themselves,” he retorts. Sat on the floor, with his back pressed against the couch, he feels heavy. Sinking. Like there is a part of him that is tethered to the ground, tugging and tugging him lower with every breath.

You remove your jacket, brown leather, scuffed with age and use, draping it over his couch.

He doesn’t look at you, nor the mess that has fermented his apartment. Files and novels and the collection of magazines (monthly subscriptions to Space News, Smithsonian, Science I am) are scattered everywhere, piled in mounds.

“I’m assuming you came to check up on me?” he continues, dropping his face to his knees. “You could’ve saved yourself the drive.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, stumbling into some books, and only because he would once keel over and die at their current mistreatment, you take additional care to place them on a… moderately uncluttered surface. “I’m hiring you a cleaner for christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to me,” he mumbles, raising his head to watch you now — tracking your movements carefully, observing the way you interact with his possessions. Your presence reminds him of before, late nights and movie marathons. His exasperation when you’d ask ‘Why are they fighting? It’s been 10 minutes…’ in relation to Star Wars. It was so domestic, warm. Something real he could keep.

Back when you’d stumble into his apartment at any time of night, and he’d take your abrupt appearance with a grain of salt. When you would waste hours speaking over the TV, providing lazy commentary, profiling characters and his ceaseless string of facts.

He wants to go back to those nights, take me back, he begs. Because he’s still not sure how to exist alongside you anymore.

“Good luck finding a cleaner who will step foot in here.” he continues.

You move to sit down beside him. One knee pulled to your chest, the other outstretched, just narrowly avoiding a chair that has taken a substantial fall.

You laugh. It feels empty. “I’d probably have to threaten them.“

“Threatening minimum wage workers? You’re a good addition to the FBI.”

“Shut up.” you retort, tilting your head back to stare at the ceiling. Everything is heavy tonight. It’s so late that the tangible feels intangible, shadows obscuring the area, diminishing the dim-light that filters through the window.

When you look at him again, he feels like breaking.

Because of course, of course, he’s hyper-aware of your stare. Has been since the moment you walked into his apartment. He’s not oblivious to your observation, scrutinisation, the way you look at him like he might break under your gaze. Or maybe he’s broken already, and you’re just here to mourn over the pieces of everything he once was.

He stares too; following the sharp outline of your profile, the way the shadows play over your features.

He thinks you still look terrifying.

Maybe that’s the worst part. He always loved you. It’s not like it was an immediate reckoning. Something blunt and fast, serrated like the shiv that penetrated his leg in prison. It was slow-burning, born from years of close contact.

It didn’t just transpire one day. You had to work for it, and he had to work harder to deny it.

There’s another attempt at conversation, on your part, and then silence, on his part. It’s stifling, uncharacteristic— no, not uncharacteristic. This is an element to you now. Awkward, strained pauses. Nothing to fill the space, nothing to ease the prevalent emptiness that centres around your dynamic.

It hurts. you’ll both take the pain. Bare it the way you were taught to.

“I came here for me,” your voice interrupts that uneasy silence, “I’m not trying to stage a bullshit intervention, or… or spend the next few hours following you around like a shadow, just in case you do something self-destructive.” You shift, turning your body to face him now. “This is for me. Okay?”

“For you?” He repeats, and the words sound bitter, cynical, tired. No fight left. “How selfish of me to think you were here for my benefit.”

It’s not like you can survive by being soft-hearted. Not in the BAU. You watched aspects of him die, or at least suffocate, year after year, case after case, when the weight of the job caught up to the fragility of his boyish demeanour. He used to sit, cross-legged on tables, rambling to you about books, constellations, the fact that the milky way will inevitably collide with the andromeda galaxy.

Now, he sits on the floor and hurts you.

“I’m always here for your benefit. It’s pretty pathetic. I can only call, or text, so many times before I get the silent message to just fuck off.”

Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be content until he digs his nails into everything he once loved, claw at the mess until it destroys. Destroys, the way he was destroyed. But he can’t find anger when it comes to you.

Parts of him, the old him, will always haunt, he supposes.

“I don’t think you’ve ever received the message to.. ‘fuck off’. Not from me. Just… maybe i’m not the person you knew before.” he looks down at his calloused hands. He hates meeting your gaze. Hates being the cause of your hurt. He feels like heavy baggage. “I— just, maybe, this version isn’t compatible with you anymore.”

I don’t want you to see me like this, he thinks.

“How can you say that?” you scoff. “How can you say that when you haven’t even tried?” The idea that the him now is so disparate to the him before?

Bull-shit.

“Okay Spencer,” you stand up, retrieving your jacket. “Why don’t you pick up the phone and actually, maybe, I don’t know? Call me? When you think we might be ‘compatible’ again? Because it seems like you’re too busy in your own self-deprecating mind-fuck to realise the person I loved is still there. That i’m still here. Even now.”

It hurts when you talk like that. Sharp, assertive, logical. And then he remembers that’s your profession, your job. Because you’re trained to be this way. Trained to break down and analyse, to pick apart the intricacies of the human mind.

He wishes he could be who you want him to be.

He wishes he could go back.

“So you don’t love me anymore?” he asks, standing up to watch you leave. He’s looking at you with these god-awful doe-eyes, like he might crumble under your response.

You could deal with the sharp-cutting words, the ugly parts he’s unsheathed in the aftermath of prison, if there was any indication he still cared. You were built to withstand affliction, it’s written into the BAU’s job description. But this? This feels like retribution.

He’s standing there, so close, so close that you could reach out and touch. Feel warm skin beneath your palms. Bridge the gap, extend an olive branch.

But there’s fear in being rejected. Because if he turns away, recoils from the contact, everything remaining will fall apart.

So, you lean against the closed door. You’re not sure why you came here now, it’s clear you miss something that you can never have back. “It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t even want me around.”

You say it, and he thinks maybe he hates you. He hates how well you can read him, how easily you can say exactly what he needs, when he isn’t ready to hear it.

But he’s just…. so angry, indignant about the hurt he experienced, the pain that was inflicted on him. He was soft and no one protected him, no one tried to preserve that virtue, to take measures, any form of initiative, to prevent him from growing thorns.

He’s dedicated his purpose to helping others. Sacrificing time he’ll never gain back. Putting his own life on hold. And yet, no one could do the same for him.

Instead they, you, the BAU, everyone inbetween, look at him like he’s a martyr. Just another failed creation. Something to sit in the ‘almosts,’ wasted potential, failed hope. He’s never understood Elle more than he does now.

He doesn’t know how to be. “You never loved me the way I love you.”

Faithful to a fault, his devotion has always been an open wound. Something messy and desperate, begging please, please notice me.

“You were always there,” he continues, “you were always present. You cared, you were empathetic, you checked in. But you never loved me the way i love you.”

He can’t hate someone for not loving him back. Sometimes, he wishes it was morally acceptable. To imagine your face as he pulls the trigger, to think of you during target practice. He’s wasted so many years, wishing you saw him as something more than a friend.

Oh, and you’ve been such a good friend. That’s what makes it sick. His best friend, the type that belongs fictionalised, too idealistic for real life. He finally had something good, and he tainted it with his own greedy heart.

You don’t understand. Until you do.

Sometimes its sick to think about him, Spencer Reid. The prodigy who inadvertently stumbled into the grasps of the BAU. Who immolated himself again and again for the ‘greater good’, for the sake of strangers, victims, people he’ll never know.

You watched self-sacrifice become self-annihilation.

Now, you watch the aftermath of it stand before you. “Who says I didn’t? Who says I don’t?” you respond exasperatedly; he’s always been so obstinate, so set in the notion that he will never obtain, keep anything good. The deprivation is sabotaging, lethal.

And how dare you? How dare you say this to him now? How dare you present a slither, just a minuscule indication that years of aching want might’ve been required. A year ago, he would’ve bled himself dry for this confession. Now, he can only mourn for his younger self. The one that didn’t realise he’d get a chance at everything. Because you, for better sake of the word, are everything.

He’s tired. He’s been tired since he was fifteen, no, younger… since he was ten, when he came to the bleak realisation that his whole life would be dedicated to academics, the pursuit of intellectual prowess. He was never a person to people. He was a brain, a textbook, a source of information. Some sort of tool to be wielded until use was no longer required.

And sure, all of it was fine, he could take take take it all, when he was younger. When he was naive, believing that he would only be valuable for his brain, that he could never have more, so he’d have to settle on scraps.

“Don’t— Don’t lie to me. Don’t spare my feelings, just.. because i’m like this. I can take care of myself.”

He wants you to be honest. He wants you to be blunt and harsh and cruel. He can take the hit, the rejection, if it’s the truth. He doesn’t want you to placate him. To make him feel better, to build more lies in order to soften the burn. He can take it. Just like he’s taken everything else over the years.

“No.” you respond.

“No?” he repeats, letting out a sharp breath. “No. Right— because that makes sense.”

“Spencer.” he looks drained when his features soften. “Shut the fuck up and come here.”

He complies, it’s actually embarrassing, obscene, downright pitying, how fast he complies. Just like he did, years prior. When your arms snake around his waist, when you’re touching him after months of abstinence, he melts.

Im sorry, Im sorry, he keeps repeating. Voice muffled, face buried deep into the crook of your neck. He’s not sure why he’s apologising. Maybe for the lack of communication, for being so distant, or maybe it’s just because he’s such a heavy weight to bare, and you’re still here. Still holding him up, taking the strain, pushing through the truculence. He just wants you to love him still.

Your hand cards through dishevelled hair, curls messy and unkept. “Stop apologising. I hate fighting with you.”

“You’ll stay right?” he asks when you draw back. He’s cupping your face now, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. It’s inherently desperate, the way he looks at you. Creased features, parted lips. “Just, like… forever?”

You want to laugh, “No big deal, huh?”

“Just a small insignificant question, really.” there’s a smile. Something contained, forced, an attempt at finding humour in the bleak.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s—“ he stutters, “That’s all you have to say? I ask you to stay forever, and you just say yes.”

“Does that come as a surprise?”

“Yes.”

When you kiss him, there’s ache. Because he’s so weak for you, ruined in every sense. It’s always been this way, ever since he met you. There can be no one else, when you’re around. There can be no one else, point blank period. Moving on has never been an option when you still breathe. His palm cups your jaw, tilting your lips to meet him again, and he wants.

There was always a principle. A set law to never show his want. But he does now.

The kiss deepens, you’ve both grown callouses from the job. He wonders how rough you might be, underneath the pretence of apathy. Stumbling together, his hand grips the back of your head as he tries to swallow your mouth. To find the root of himself, everything that has kept him alive. You, you have kept him alive.

“Don’t go.” he begs. He’s not afraid to plead for it. He’ll reduce himself to humiliation, if it’ll reward him another hour. “Please— please just stay.”

“I already said I would,” you tug him closer, closer in a way that has him sighing.

Later, when you’re guiding him to bed, he lets you undress him, because he doesn’t want to see the bruises. He doesn’t want to see the evidence of what he endured, the lasting remnants.

Instead, he watches you.

Your hands. Your face. The slope of your nose, the way your eyes glance at his body. He tries not to think about what you must see.

He focuses on how your fingertips feel tracing his hips, instead. Focuses on your words, “Do you really think I’d still be here if I didn’t love you? If I wasn’t in love with you…”

This is the confession he’s waited lifetimes for. Excuse his skepticism. “I don’t know. Maybe you just have a saviour complex.”

His body is marred. Mauve bruises lining tired skin. The colour darkens around the hollow bone of his hip. You’ve both endured injuries before, taken the worst of the job. He drags his fingers over your chest, lingering around section 8 of your upper anatomy, a green area to the traditional silhouette target. A few inches below, the bullet you took last year would’ve been fatal.

Spencer was the one to find you. In an abandoned warehouse, applying pressure to the wound. Ripped sleeves, cloth stained crimson, attempting to stem the blood flow.

You can still remember his panicked comments now. The way he checked for a collapsed lung, monitoring each breath, stammering on about tension pneumothorax and probabilities of life. Everything was based on chance, if the bullet avoided major organs. If the bullet curved strategic anatomical structures.

There’s something intimate to the knowledge, the romanticised ideal that you’ve seen the worst of each other.

“You love me,” he repeats, like he needs time to accept that it’s never been one sided. “Well, I love you more, so I win.”

When you kiss his brow, whisper that he’s an idiot, he exhales, pushing into the warmth. His hands are shaky, fumbling as they work to repay the favour, extracting clothes from your frame.

You watch as he drops to his knees, staring up at you with something akin to worship. He knows he will pay for this later. He pays for it all. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, “Are you aware of how long i’ve waited for this?”

He unhooks your panties, coaxes your body to the edge of the bed. Legs draped over his shoulders, his breath is warm, slow, measured contact as he drags his swollen lips along your skin. A trail of kisses, travelling from hipbone to inner thigh.

“You’re the only thing I’ve thought about since I joined the BAU,” he sounds so pained. Like there’s anguish to his undying commitment. “Do you know how impressive that is? Your whole existence has the capacity to just… derail me.”

“Spencer,”

“Yeah,” he sighs, eyes falling shut, “Keep saying my name..”

There’s a litter of fading marks engrained into you now, from his mouth. When he reaches your clit, it takes all of his strained control to not lie you flat against the bed and bury his face.

Instead, there’s measured halos, he flattens his tongue, catching sensitive nerves with wet pressure, your hips push forward, breathless noises stifled by the bite to your bottom lip.

“Feels s’good,” you slur when his movements pick up, praise falling easy from your mouth. “You’re so good.”

He whimpers once, and then once more when your hand finds his head, sinking into tousled auburn hair. When your fingers reach the root and tug him closer until all he can breathe is you.

It’s a directing force, one that abolishes all thoughts beyond you.

He’s not sure he’ll ever recover from this. Because he can’t love easy. He’ll probably spend the next decade reciting each detail of this moment to himself.

You’re splayed out across dishevelled linen, bedding that holds traces of him. Cedar-wood, coffee, that soft press of freshly washed cotton. You pull harder, a litany of moans spilling from parted lips. A mess of sounds and stimulation, he pauses to drag his tongue across the length of your stained inner thigh before pliantly returning to your clit.

“Spence— fuck, just like that..” your back arches off the mattress, hips canting, bucking forward into his mouth to deepen the friction. It’s hedonistic, greedy, the way you push for more, even when he’s demeaned to his knees, giving you everything.

He groans when you take his middle and ring finger. When he can feel tight heat wrapped around his digits. Anatomy has always been his favourite subject, he’s mastered the art of locating erogenous zones. His fingers curve, and you respond irrationally.

Your thighs are gripping his head now, ensuring he remains locked, and Spencer’s not sure suffocation has ever sounded so good. Because his scalp aches from your sharp hands, and you’re pulling hard enough to warrant tears. He whines, in response, stuttering out fractured oh’s with every lap of his tongue.

“Gonna…” you warn, and he pushes your hips down into the mattress and fucks you through the orgasm. The pulse of your clit, drawn into his mouth, and the clench of muscle around his fingers as you burn with pleasure. Synapses in overdrive, stars staining beneath your closed eyes.

In the aftermath, he takes his time to clean up his own mess. To catch his breath, to not to think about his own arousal. How untouched he is, after all this time.

Climbing the length of your body, he presses kisses to your torso, over every part of you that he hasn’t grazed before.

He stops his ascent at the base of your neck, a soft kiss between your breasts and another on each of your nipples.

“I think I win,” he mutters. “Again.”

Simple words. He’s masochistic, desperate to be put back in his place. You’ve never had an issue with that.

You laugh, albeit breathlessly. “Cute that you assume I would ever let you win.”

He moans, fracturing in two, as your hand drags down his skin. He feels like he’s been hard for centuries. Never finding release. His body doesn’t obey, if it’s not you. When your thumb rolls over his tip, collecting pre-cum, he keens. Lying face to face, his forehead presses to your own, meeting your stare with this helpless, flushed look of need.

He’s too touch-starved to be embarrassed. “Please,”

“Shh,” you muffle his begs, smearing his bottom lip with his own pre-cum before pushing the digit into his mouth. “I don’t think you want to win.” he won’t protest truth, “I think you’re trying to bait me into proving you wrong.” the way he squirms, whimpers, breathless to the pleasure. “Such a whore…”

He can’t find fault in that. “Only for you,” he mutters, “Exclusively for you.”

He pushes forward, catching your lips with his own. It’s a messy kiss. Something that resembles younger him. It’s not like he’s garnered excessive experience since then. Sex, bodies, contact has never been his field of expertise.

It doesn’t help that he’s wasted half of his life aching for you.

“Prove me wrong,” he mutters against your mouth, “All the time. Every single day.”

The way your hand wraps around his cock, the long strokes that graze a need he’s never quite reached himself,.. it’s all torturous. There’s nothing soft in his response, because he bucks forward, into the warmth of your hold, whining like he belongs in porn.

“No, no.. please..” he pleads when you draw back. Though any further protests, soft breathless attempts at coercion, are cut short when you straddle his waist. Legs draped, guiding his tip between folds to graze your clit.

Being corrupted, taken, isn’t something he felt he would experience at his age. But, here he is… 

“Slow,” you command, taking him by the inch. It’s a gradual descend, stretching to accommodate his length.

By the time he’s bottomed out, he looks gone. Mouth half-parted, hollow-lidded eyes, debauched expression as he struggles to breathe. “Slow,” he repeats, as if that word has any good over him now. Everything is static beyond his hips, pushing forward to meet the drag of your own.

He feels raw, uncut, exposed in new ways. Ways that only you can coax out of him.

“You feel… so good,” he mutters, breathless, between a jumble of oh oh oh’s. You rock against him, carving pleasure, and it’s so unfair. Because he’s not supposed to be ruined already.

He can only handle the sight of you, draped over him for so long; his hands snake around your waist, using the hold to drag you both up. Leant against the bed frame. A momentary lapse in movement. “Hi.” he says, coy. “Hi, you’re so beautiful..” his lips meet your neck.

There are parts of you that he believed he would never uncover.

You scoff, “You’re going soft on me here.”

“Are you sure? Because from where i’m sat, I’d beg to differ—“ his words are destroyed by the force of your movements.

He feels warm, in ways that are so intrinsic that the feeling could border on religious. Your hips sink against his, and the contact is enough to drive him mad. His hands are tangled in hair, guiding you closer, kissing you again, and again until you’re just breathing into each others mouth.

“I’m always soft for you,” he promises between ragged breaths. When you’re close, he still feels he retains a fracture of what he once was.

“Good,” you grab a fistful of hair, watch as he breaks.

“Oh,” he moans, ripping into his own lip. “Oh— please..” To have you on his lap, wrapped around him, gasping into his collar. Your body is the culmination of every fantasy — the clandestine ones he was content to keep buried indefinitely.

You watch as he cups your face, as he forces your eyes to meet his in the diluted light. ‘Please,’ he says, shameless to the words, meeting your stare head-on. ‘Please please please.’

He begs, straight to your face. “Just have me. I want it so bad…”

He feels possessed. Leashed, built for you alone.

“Yeah? Do you want me to own you?” your words are a dragged whisper against his ear, he thinks he might come from just this. “To know that you’re mine alone?”

“Mhm—“ he breathes out, “Yes, fuck— please.”

You wrap your hand around his neck, pressing your thumb to his throat. He wears your grip like a necklace. “Just like that, huh?” his hips twitch, pushing up to bury his cock deeper into you.

You hold. For a few moments, watching as he struggles against the restriction to his airflow. He’s flushed, whining out “Just like that…” when you release.

“Take it, Spencer.” you retort, watching as he groans, head spilling back against the wall, severing the eye contact. “If you’re going to be good for me, take it.”

“Trying— ‘m trying,” he sobs. The words are fragmented, they get caught in a knot of moans and half-whimpers.

His hands, his deft, long fingers, tremble as they drag across your ribs, as they palm your breasts before hooking around your waist to deepen each push of movement.

There’s a reminder, burning through the back of his mind. Because touch has always entailed pain. Bruises, scarring, a reminder that some people are inherently violent, and no matter how soft you are, you can be ripped apart…

He’s not sure if he’s the victim or the antagoniser. He thinks maybe both.

…but when your fingers lace with his own, he loses himself.

His head falls to your shoulder. “Please, im trying..” to take it, to accept the pleasure, to acknowledge that you’re permanent. Something irreversible, a black hole he’ll bet his life on.

“I know, I know. So good, Spence. Just like that.”

He’s never needed praise more than he does now.

“There we go.., i’ve got you.”

“I’m yours,” he sobs, “You know i’m yours. Only ever been yours.”

When he comes, it’s messy. Ruptured whimpers and the arch of his back; he’s faintly aware of you clenching around him, reaching your own orgasm, but everything feels, and it’s so much. A tangle of stimuli that his tired body has grown used to begging for. He spills deep inside of you, marking himself in crevices.

“Why did we waste so much time?” he asks after. When you’re both flushed, lying naked against his mattress. “You could’ve had me when I was better. You could’ve had that version of—“

“Spencer,” you cut off. “I don’t care. There isn’t ‘versions of you,’ that’s dumb.” he wants to laugh at your bluntness. “There’s just.. you. You before prison. And you after. They’re both the same, you haven’t lost yourself. You’re just… stronger now.”

“I don’t want to be stronger.” he says, leaning forward to kiss you. “Teach me how to be weak again.”

You don’t tell him there’s no going back. That he’ll never retain the innocence of what once was. Instead, you just sigh, hand curved around his jaw as you reciprocate the contact. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” you respond, “I promise.”

[seumyo]

tokoyami taking care of you when you’re sick.

“You look like you’re ready to ascend to the afterlife,” Tokoyami said, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

“Maybe I am, Fumi. Maybe this is it for me.”

“You have a mild fever and a sore throat. Hardly fatal.”

“But it feels fatal,” you whined, your voice scratchy. “I’m so weak. I don’t even have the energy to do my nails!” You wiggled your bare fingers in the air for emphasis, looking utterly defeated. “Ugh, they’re naked.”

He tilted his head, his beak twitching in what might have been amusement. You could hardly tell. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not. I can feel my soul leaving my body, Fumi. I’m… so… cold.”

He rolled his eyes but reached for the extra blanket folded at the end of your bed, draping it over you with a sigh. “There. Better?”

“Thank you. I felt like I needed to tell you about my last will and testament.”

“Your sense of drama is impressive,” Tokoyami replied, his tone dry.

“It’s a gift.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry, Fumi. I’ll haunt you lovingly.”

He reached for the tissue box and handed it to you. “You’re not haunting anyone. Blow your nose.”

With a pout, you accepted the tissues and complied. “Ugh, even my sneezes aren’t cute right now,” you muttered, your cheeks flushed not from embarrassment but from your fever.

“Your sneezes are rarely cute,” Tokoyami pointed out.

“Rude,” you sniffled.

Just as you were about to unknowingly fall into a deep slumber, Tokoyami reached for the small tray he’d brought with him, holding a bowl of soup he’d made earlier.

“You need to eat first,” he said. “Eat, then sleep.”

You stared at it like it was the most daunting task in the world. Plus, your exhaustion most likely killed your appetite.

“I don’t think I can lift the spoon.”

He sighed again but didn’t argue. Instead, he carefully picked up the spoon and held it to your lips. “Open.”

You paused. “You’re feeding me?”

“Would you rather starve?”

“No?” So you did as told.

Tokoyami fed you a spoonful of warm soup, a recipe he had to call his mother for, satisfied that you’re complying. “See? Not so hard.”

“Thanks, Fumi. You’re the best nurse ever.”

“I aim to serve,” he replied dryly, though you could tell he was pleased.

Such dramatics.

“Fumi?”

You looked at him with bleary eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light illuminating your room. “Fumi,” you said again just as he finished setting the tray aside.

“Yes?”

“If I don’t make it… promise me you’ll keep my sticker collection safe.”

Tokoyami stared at you, his expression utterly unamused. “You’re going to make it.”

“You’re no fun,” you pouted.

“I’m not ready to take responsibility for your sticker collection. That is a big responsibility, even for me.”

You laughed, though it was a weak and raspy sound. “You’d love it! There’s so much glitter.”

“Glitter is not my aesthetic.”

“Well, maybe it should be.”

“Well, you should rest,” he shook his head, gently adjusting the blanket around you. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

As the hours went on, you grew quieter, your usual energy completely sapped by your cold. Tokoyami stayed by your side, of course, reading quietly while you dozed off just to make sure that there wasn’t anything too concerning with your cold.

He wishes that your sickness would go away sooner because he can’t stand seeing you like this. Though you can always count on him to take care of you, just like in the future vows of, “In sickness, and in health.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[halfmoonshines]

marc spector/steven grant/jake lockley x reader

summary: you loved all of your boys equally. most days.

or; they're all amazing in their own ways, but definitely have their strong suits.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were going to strangle Marc Spector, you were sure of it. You were also sure that Steven would forgive you, and Jake probably wouldn't bat an eye.

How many times had you told this man that you had a laundry basket for a reason? Fist of Vengeance or not, his socks still stunk and you were getting tired of padding around the apartment twice a week collecting them all.

You slammed the washer door shut a little too hard just as you heard the front door open and click shut.

"I'm home, love! They had a great deal on your favorite cream cheese at the shops." Steven's honey accent pierces the quiet of your anger and you immediately simmer; his sunny disposition a cold water on your raging fire. You had nearly forgotten that he was the one who went to the store.

"That's great." You said as you rounded the corner, a smile on your face.

Steven paused in his unloading the groceries, a furrow creasing his brow. "Are you alright, sweets? You look tense." He crossed the small kitchen over to you, hands settling lightly on your shoulders. Leave it to Steven to see the slightest bit of tension in you.

You have a loving eye roll, moving closer to wrap your own arms around him. "I'm okay, Steven. Just slightly peeved at Marc for being so messy."

His hold dropped to your waist and he rested his chin on top of your head, a mirthful chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "That he is, love. Right disgusting bugger. Shall we do something about him?"

"I thought you wouldn't take kindly to me choking him with the next dirty sock I find."

"I'm sure I can look the other way."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

"You're being ungrateful, you need to actually listen to me-"

Conversations with your mother never went over well, but this time you were well tired of listening to it.

"I am not being ungrateful, Sharon. I'm being realistic. Don't call me again." You slammed the phone down with a force, shaking the glass of water you had perched on the dining table. You winced, knowing that smart phones weren't made to take that kind of beating but you were far past the point of caring.

She always knew how to rile you up; to upset you and make you feel guilty. You didn't even know why you bothered to pick up her calls anymore. Some sick sense of ownership.

The hands that turned you were warm and familiar, the chest that greeted you smelling of musk and pine.

"You want to talk about it?" Marc's voice made you wince. Steven was the one that left the house this morning, you hadn't been aware that they planned to switch. You hated talking about this stuff with Marc, knowing full well it never compared to the relationship he suffered with his own mother.

You gave a shake of your head and met his dark brown gaze. "It's fine, babe. Same old attitude."

Marc's smirk lacked the usual humor. He raised one of his hands to twirl a loose piece of your hair, tracing the movement with his eyes. "You know you don't have to bottle it up, right? How you feel is important. Don't ignore that just because I have my own issues."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's quite the self aware statement, Mr. Spector. I'm impressed."

Marc's smile morphed into that familiar one and he returned your earlier eye roll. "Don't deflect. I'm here if you want to talk."

You dropped your hand to his and started to pull him towards the kitchen. "We can talk while we cook. I'm starving."

"I can agree with that."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You were being followed, you were sure of it. You tried not to hasten your steps too much, knowing full well that the person who had been following you for the last six blocks would give chase.

You wouldn't escape them.

You and the boys had obviously gone through this kind of situation before. Being the fist of Khonshu didn't come with a fan club, but it certainly did build a repertoire of enemies. If they lived, that is.

Your breath was puffing out of you in clouds as you power walked down a road parallel to your own, debating the merits on showing this man where you lived on the off chance that Marc was home.

You could hear the footsteps behind you speed up and you returned it in kind, kicking into a slow jog - all pretense of being unaware going out the window.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the man approaching quickly, and that was the first mistake you made.

The second one was hesitating when another men stepped out of the shadows of a store front. You knocked into him firmly, breath escaping out of your chest while his harsh grip dug into your shoulders.

Oh, you were fucked.

The man who had been following you caught up to you then, hand clasping over your mouth to muffle the strangled scream you had attempted.

Those training sessions in the living room with Jake felt like a distant memory with the blood pumping through your veins. You kicked wildly at the man in front of you, managing to graze that sensitive bit between his legs.

"I'm going to enjoy this so much more now." The accent was Irish, but you were quickly distracted by the large knife he brought up to your throat.

You stopped thrashing, all too aware of the sharp tip of steel biting into the sensitive skin on your neck. A stray tear rolled out of your eye, fate becoming more concrete.

"Hurry it up, Joey. We don't have time to dally."

"Shut yer pipe-" The man holding the knives voice gurgled briefly before he collapsed on the ground in front of you, the tips of crescent moon shaped knives poking out of the front of his chest.

You found him instantly, half masked by the shadows on the street.

"Bloody fuck." The man holding you simply tightened his hold, one hand fisting in your hair and yanking your head back. The squeal you gave wasn't by choice but you could see the start that the suited man watching you gave. "Stay over there, white devil, or she will die with me. Do you hear-"

You almost didn't see it, the knife being thrown but it was embedded in the goon's throat before your next breath. He released you all at once and you fell forward from the force, gloved hands catching you before you could hit the pavement.

You were heaving breaths, vaguely aware that you were going into something akin to shock but unable to pull yourself out.

"Breathe, mi corazon. You need to take slow breaths." Jake's own hands were shaking almost imperceptibly, you could tell that he was struggling to keep a lid on his fury.

You dragged in a deep breath through your nose, forcing yourself to sit on it before exhaling. You folded into his embrace, fresh tears springing into your eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jake's scoff was almost offensive. "What the fuck are you sorry about?"

You gestured to yourself haphazardly. "Completely losing my shit the first time that something happens to me."

The suit disappeared then, his bare hand gripping your chin lightly, bringing your gaze to his. There was fire churning there, and you realized you mistook some of his anger. There was fear there too. For you, though. Never himself.

"Don't you ever apologize to me when there's," His hand lowered a bit, ghosting over the line of red that the knife had left on your throat. "Blood dripping down you. Blood that's my fault." You understood then, the hard clench of his jaw. "Mierda, babe. This could've ended so differently."

Your hand wraps around the his wrist, bringing it into your lap, willing him to look at you instead of the wound he was fixated on. "But it wasn't. Because you were here. I'm okay, Jake."

Something flashed in his eyes, and a cloud passed over his face. He was bottling it up, you could tell, but there wasn't much you could do about that right now. "Let's get you home."

You let him help you off the pavement, keeping a grounding hand on his arm. Jake hesitated a moment, question poised on his tongue.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you're okay? If you want to talk it out, I can step back. It would probably be good to have someone to talk to-"

Your kiss was chaste, but served its purpose of shutting him up. "If I wanted to talk about it, I could do that with you, Jake. You don't need to go anywhere."

"You know I'm not very good at that-"

"You're perfect." You insisted. No room for arguments.

He smiled wryly, arm wrapping around your waist. "How about I run you a bath when we get home and we order some takeout. What are you hungry for?"

"Surprise me."

[sayyakii]

Enemy yandere boy headcanons

CW: Obsessive/possessive tendencies, stalking, emotional manipulation, physical proximity.

Pairing: Enemy yandere boy x fem!reader

Synopsis: Enemy yandere boy he’s always been cold, distant, and seemingly hostile towards you, but that’s just a mask. Beneath it, he’s been watching, waiting, and obsessing over you. A simple accident forces you into his orbit. You realize he’ll do anything to make you his.

A/N : Hey everyone, this is my first time writing something like this, and I really hope you enjoy it! If you're interested in part two, feel free to let me know. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so don’t hesitate to share them! Comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. <3

Enemy yandere boy who swears he hates you. He won’t even look at you when everyone’s around, acting like you don’t exist. But the second no one’s watching, his eyes are locked on you, dark and possessive, like he’s memorizing every detail.

Enemy yandere boy who makes sure no one teases or bullies you. He doesn’t let anyone lay a finger on you, even though he’s the first to criticize you.

Enemy yandere boy who criticizes everything you do. "You call that your best?" "Pathetic." He’s harsh and relentless, picking apart even the smallest things. But deep down, it’s all just an excuse to talk to you, to make sure he’s always on your mind.

Enemy yandere boy who secretly keeps everything that belongs to you. A pen you dropped, a crumpled note, even the wrapper from the candy you ate. His room is like a shrine, filled with tiny pieces of you that he treasures his collection is hidden away, and sometimes he finds himself tracing his fingers over the items, imagining what it would feel like to hold you instead.

Enemy yandere boy who pretends not to care but watches your every move. He knows your schedule better than you do, showing up “coincidentally” wherever you are. Every smile, every laugh, every glance it all belongs to him, even if you don’t know it yet.

Enemy yandere boy who sees you as the love of his life, even if he’ll never admit it. You’re his obsession, his everything. No one else could ever come close, and he’ll make sure you realize it someday even if it means scaring away everyone else until you’re his.

Enemy yandere boy who enjoys making you angry. The fire in your eyes, the way your voice rises when you yell at him it’s intoxicating. He pushes your buttons just to see you react, knowing it’s the closest he can get to seeing the passion he craves from you.

Enemy yandere boy who acts like he doesn’t care but can’t stand seeing you with anyone else. His jaw clenches, his fists tighten, and his eyes darken with a possessiveness he can barely control. You’re his, even if you don’t know it yet.

Enemy yandere boy who corners you in an empty hallway, his breath warm against your ear as he leans in close. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

Enemy yandere boy who pulls you closer than necessary during a confrontation, his hand gripping your wrist just a little too tightly. The tension crackles between you, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or kiss you.

Enemy yandere boy who leaves you wondering where the line between hate and desire truly lies. His words may be cruel, but his actions tell a different story.

Enemy yandere boy who wasn’t supposed to be at the party or at least that’s what you had told yourself when you first arrived. It was a small gathering for students who had helped with the annual school event, and you were sure he wasn’t on the list. Yet, somehow, he was here.

Enemy yandere boy who caught your attention the moment he entered the room. The dim party lights reflected off his sharp features, and his usual cold, calculating expression was replaced with something unreadable. You could feel his presence, even from across the room, as if the air shifted the second he arrived.

Enemy yandere boy who didn’t bother mingling or making small talk like the others. Instead, his piercing eyes scanned the room until they found you. When your gazes locked, his lips parted slightly, and you noticed the way he swallowed hard, as if trying to suppress something.

Enemy yandere boy who stayed rooted in his spot for what felt like hours, watching you like a predator stalking its prey. He couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect you looked tonight, how every move you made seemed to draw him closer to losing control.

Enemy yandere boy who finally made his move when you least expected it. You were standing near the drinks table, chatting with a friend, when he "accidentally" bumped into you, spilling his drink all over your dress.

Enemy yandere boy who stared at the mess he made, his wide, innocent eyes meeting your furious glare. For a moment, he looked genuinely shocked, as if he hadn’t meant for it to happen. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t entirely an accident.

Enemy yandere boy who spoke to you in a tone you’d never heard before soft, apologetic, almost tender. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I didn’t mean to…” His words trailed off, but the way he looked at you made your heart race, even though you hated it.

Enemy yandere boy who didn’t give you a chance to argue or storm off. He reached out, his hand gently wrapping around your wrist. “Let me fix this,” he said, and before you could protest, he was leading you out of the main room.

Enemy yandere boy who brought you to the restroom, his movements calm and deliberate. He grabbed a towel, wet it under the sink, and crouched down in front of you, his hands steady as he began dabbing at your dress.

Enemy yandere boy who seemed completely focused on you. The party noise faded into the background as his attention remained entirely on the task at hand. His hands brushed against the fabric of your dress, lingering slightly longer than necessary.

Enemy yandere boy who inhaled deeply as he worked, your scent filling his senses and clouding his thoughts. His mind raced with obsessive thoughts how beautiful you looked, how close he was to you, how badly he wanted you to be his.

Enemy yandere boy who made your cheeks grow hot as he crouched so close to you. His presence was overwhelming, and the way his fingers moved against the fabric of your dress sent shivers down your spine.

Enemy yandere boy who glanced up at you occasionally, his dark eyes locking onto yours for fleeting moments. You tried to ignore the way your heart raced, but his intensity was impossible to ignore.

Enemy yandere boy who froze when you finally pushed his hand away, your voice loud as you said, “Stop it. You’ve already done enough.” The sharpness in your tone didn’t faze him in fact, it seemed to make him more determined.

Enemy yandere boy who stood up slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was heavy with unspoken tension, and you could feel the heat radiating from him.

Enemy yandere boy who stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite place a mix of longing, obsession, and something darker. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You make it impossible for me to stay away.”

Enemy yandere boy who leaned in slightly, as if testing your reaction. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath hitch, and you realized that no matter how much you wanted to deny it, he had a hold on you that you couldn’t explain.

Part 2 ???

[thomaslittlegirl]

hello love! i hope you are doing very well:) i just read some of your first and they were so cute! unfortunately i have been in the mood for SOME ANGST lol! would you potentially be able to write a fic where something happened to reader and she got hurt (level of severity is up to you) and like tommy is obviously freaking out over it. idk what's wrong with me but i love angst 😔 if you don't feel comfortable i totally understand and have a wonderful day:)

thank you for your sweet words! 🩷 i wrote this in half an hour, so i hope it's at least not that horrible? hope you like it.

sickness. thomas shelby

warnings; angst. thomas blames himself, as always.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

thomas can't help but feel suffocated seeing you like this. it seems that the walls begin to close and collapse on top of him, preventing him from breathing.

your figure lies on the bed, wrapped in the neat white sheets while your body does not stop shaking violently.

it hurts him to see you this way. hurts because there is no one to blame for your discomfort, no one to blame for your suffering. all he can do is watch yourself in silence and wait for this to pass quickly.

thomas looks at you pitifully as he swallows hard.

the sound of the maid's heels echoing across the wooden floor makes him put on guard. the woman comes almost stumbling, with a tray in her arms. "here it is, sir." she says, in a low voice.

she goes into the room y/n and thomas both share and leaves the plates on the desk.

"thank you, frances." he replies. "i want you to be attentive to any call that me or my girl makes." maid nods and leaves the room, closing the door after her. the annoying sound of heels moving away.

thomas walks over to the bed, squatting down next to you. "doll..." he calls, stroking your hair.

a whimper escapes your mouth and thomas licks his lips, watching you intently; you are pale, your lips cracked.

"what?" you ask in a whisper.

"frances brought you soup." he informs, continuing the caresses on your head. "i want you to eat some."

"im not hungry."

"just a little. try it... it'll warm you up a little." he tries to persuade in vain. you shake your head; thomas stare at the dark circles in your eyes.

shelby look at how your body shakes. it doesn't matter how many sheets you have around you, the spasms don't stop.

his head is a torment, thousands of good-for-nothing thoughts flooding his brain. he collects all the bad omens he knows, like black cats and broken mirrors... everything that could have happened for you to reach this moment.

thomas can't help but think and blame himself. it is not the first time this has happened, it is not the first time that his bad luck and his destiny bring him to this point.

he can't lose you, not you. not again... not when he is thorough when giving you gifts, not when he makes sure to protect you with his life.

why does everything he loves come to this point? does everything he touches have to slowly fade away?

he doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your thin fingers wipe the corners of his eyes, brushing the tears away from his face.

"i'll get better." you try to calm him down, he's not so sure.

he knows the multiple opinions of all the doctors he brought to check you, all of them giving a different diagnosis but none of them making you feel better... everything you can possibly have.

"you promise...?" he asks, looking at your tired face.

"i..." nothing. "just hold me, please." you ask in return, running back a little to make room for him on the bed next to you.

thomas crawls under the sheets with you and wraps you in his arms, holding you close to his chest.

as if love could save.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, i hope you don't get asked this too much, but could you recommend some established relationship fics? canon or au is fine, but not kid fic, if that's possible. Thank you.

Hey. We have an #established relationship tag you can check out. Here are some more to add to the collection...

Where the Cliffs Meet the Sky by springofviolets (M)

Crowley plans a meaningful, romantic anniversary trip to celebrate 1 year of being openly in a relationship with Aziraphale, but things keep going wrong! How will our hero cope? A South Downs Cottage origins story.

One Hundred Days by Lady of Prompts (G)

They should have discussed it more. Wasn’t that what humans did? Spend weeks and months talking about what sort of home they want, what sort of life, dreaming of what moving in together will be like. Making sure their dreams matched up, their expectations. They didn’t buy cottages – in the middle of a forest, no less, half a mile from the nearest village – without considering questions of…of hobbies, and use of space and…and living arrangements. They certainly didn’t take such a step without…defining their relationships. -- Aziraphale only begins to consider the implications of *moving in together* after they've already done it.

Hozier Missed A Trick When He Called It 'Real People' Instead Of 'Joe Bloggs Snogs' by indieninja92 (E)

Months after Armageddoff, Crowley and Aziraphale enjoy a cosy night in. A brief moment of anxiety about a completely invented turn of events sends them off on a rambly, giggling conversation that asks, if they were human, what kinds of humans would they be? Very silly ones, it's safe to say.

Five Times They Weren't Very Sexy and One Time They Aced It by ZehWulf (E)

“Have you ever wondered what it feels like?” Crowley asks while contemplating the dregs at the bottom of his wine glass. He’s aiming for philosophical but fears the faint wheeze at the end of the question might have given him away. “Have I ever wondered what ‘what’ feels like,” Aziraphale asks finally. “Sex,” he says, much louder than intended or reasonable. They both wince.  “Oh, have you never…?” Aziraphale asks with polite disbelief. “You have?” Crowley demands. Look, when you're largely inexperienced sex-favorable asexual ineffables, it takes a bit of practice, a lot of communication, and some bull-headed persistence to get your sex life in commendable working order. Or, five times things got (hilariously) awkward during sex, and one time after they've got it mostly figured out. A companion fic to "Scratching That Itch." (Sex acts, such as they are, tagged per chapter in chapter notes!)

a moment's silence by viperinz (T)

Crowley rubs a hand down his face, sighing. “Then you know that you shouldn’t have done that.” “It was the only choice I had. If you got smitten—” Aziraphale swallows, feeling his back throb in pain. “You would have died right where you stood. I could not allow that.” Crowley’s mouth turns into a thin line, his fury radiating through the room. “So, what? It was better if it was you rather than me that took the hit?” “Yes!” Aziraphale exclaims, sitting up in bed. He winces as his back protests the movement, but he needs Crowley to understand. “You deserve better than what I was able to ever give you, and you need to help Muriel and the Messiah. If I ceased to exist, nothing would change the outcome of stopping all of this.” “No, you don’t get to say that.” Crowley walks up to the bed. “If you think I’ll ever stand to lose you again, then you’re bloody wrong. The outcome would be different because I wouldn’t have you, you daft thing.” After everything is said and done, Aziraphale has to learn to adjust to life on Earth after seven years of being in Heaven. Luckily, Crowley is there to help him heal, and to give him the love that he feels he's lost.

we shall have the world forever for our own by quitequaintrelle (M)

Your new beginning starts here! Lying wholly within the South Downs National Park, the village of Wood’s Bottom is your destination for an idyllic retirement. This quaint hamlet is a short five miles away from the seaside resort of Brighton, with its vibrant array of shopping, culture, and leisure attractions. Boasting stunning landscape views, entirely average weather conditions, welcoming neighbours, and intimate rural charm, Wood’s Bottom is your opportunity to live the exceptionally normal and relaxing lifestyle you’ve always dreamed of. Aziraphale and Crowley have finally found their forever home after successfully ensuring there is still a “forever” to share. Surely they will integrate perfectly well amongst their new neighbours. Surely.

- Mod D

[m-jelly]

Hello Jelly! I hope your days are going good, happy late new year! If your requests are open and you're willing to write it, I have one. A Levi x reader who's a Selkie (A woman who can change between a seal and human by taking on/off her seal skin) where reader meets Levi in the corps. She was trying to bargain for her skin back from someone (who was trying to get married to reader by hiding her skin) and Levi steps in. They form a friendship, eventually fall for one another, and they get married. But what happens after she gets her skin back is up to you, feel free to ignore though.

What makes you whole.

Levi x selkie fem reader

Canon world, post-war Levi, married couple, emotional, slight angst, romance.

After settling down after the war ended Levi manages to track down your lost skin stolen from you. Conflicted by his feelings and what to do, he finally decides it's best to hand it back over to you and accept whatever you choose to do.

When he gazed at your skin, it was hard to know how to feel. It brought him joy knowing that the very thing that brought you together was right in front of him. It was so beautiful too, which was so typical of you to be incredibly beautiful because you always were.

Levi remembered when he first met you almost falling apart as you pleaded with a man for your selkie skin back, but he would only gift it if you married him. He saved you and discovered the man never had your skin. That meeting started everything, your romance and life grew from then on.

The love Levi had for you was deep and strong, so knowing he could possibly lose you by handing over this skin hurt his heart. Honesty was important between you and him, you'd tell him everything and he would you. Having this skin and not telling you would be a horrible sin.

He collected the skin wrapped it up and placed it in his bag. He grabbed the walking stick you gifted him and made his way home. Each step towards your home on the beach he felt a sinking feeling in his heart. You were a divine creature of the ocean, surely you'd leave him to go home.

He stopped when he came to the house and saw you outside hanging the washing. The bag he was holding felt unbelievably heavy. He released it causing it to thud against the floor. A sob of despair escaped him causing you to look over.

Hearing you run over and calling out his name only broke him more. Would this be the last time you'd run to him? Would this be the last time you held him? Was this the end of his happy life and love?

You cradled Levi's perfect face in your hands. "Darling, talk to me. What's wrong? Levi, please."

He shook a little unable to string a sentence together, so he simply said. "Bag."

"Bag?" Confusion was etched on your face. "What do you mean?"

He persisted and pointed. "Bag."

Piecing things together a little, you crouched down and opened the bag. Your hands stilled when you recognised what your husband had brought to you, your skin was back. "Levi, I..." You cast your gaze up to your husband who was breaking. "Thank you for finding it."

His legs gave in making him slip to the floor, but you caught him and cradled him in your loving arms. He sobbed your name. "I will miss you."

You frowned at his words. "Miss me? Am I going somewhere?"

He clung to you. "The ocean. It's you're home. You can go home now."

"Home?"

"Yes."

You shifted your wonderful body and cradled his face. "Levi, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you because I'm already home."

He sniffed as your words started to sink in, the pain in his heart subsided as love spread through him. "You are?"

Tears ran down your cheeks as you smiled. "Oh, you beautiful and romantic man. Yes, I am home. You are my home. I'm not going anywhere unless it is with you. I love you, Levi. I love you more than anything in this world." You kissed him passionately and tried to push your feelings into the kiss. "I love you."

Levi's pain washed away from your words and actions. "I love you too. I love you so much. You're my everything." He tilted his head and kissed you over and over, the more he did the more heated it became. "Thank you, thank you for staying."

You hummed a gentle laugh. "You're stuck with me, darling husband. I'm not going anywhere." You got up and pulled him with you. "Let's get you inside and this skin."

Levi grabbed the bag. "I've got it."

"It'll be a fun thing to show our kids. Mummy's seal skin."

A blush consumed Levi's cheeks and he walked with you home. "Yeah, it'll be fun for them."

You placed the bag down on the side before wrapping your arms around Levi. "Did you think I was going to leave you?"

"Mm."

You rubbed his back. "I'll never leave you. I'm yours, Levi."

He released a long sigh. "I know that now. I love you."

You kissed his cheek. "Thank you for thinking of me. I'm shocked you were willing to let me go, but that'd never happen. I'm forever yours."

Tags under cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[kkrahe]

Unexpected - Chapter 1

George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Series Summary: You never expected to cross paths with George Weasley - your complete opposite. But as rivalry ignites between you two, so does something far more dangerous, an undeniable attraction that neither of you can ignore.

Chapter Summary: When Fred and George Weasley step into your family’s dark and mysterious shop in Knockturn Alley, the last thing you expect is a clash of wits. But as the brash twins push your patience to its limits, tensions rise.

CW: None :D

AN: This is my first fic please be gentle, I'm very open to suggestion or corrections. Sorry if formatting is weird/off I'm not sure how to work tumblr TT. Lmk if this is bad so I can just quit while I'm ahead :D

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The scent of old parchment and dust permeated the air throughout your family’s shop. It was familiar; you had worked there every summer since you turned 14. The shop was eclectic, with shelves littered with the ancient tomes, cursed artifacts, and hard-to-come-by ingredients that your family had collected over the years.

Located in the narrow dimly-lit Knockturn Alley, most of the shop's patrons were familiar faces. Pureblood wizards who favored darker magic and the occasional wanderer, looking for something more sinister or rare than the opposite Diagon Alley could provide.

You leaned against the dark hardwood countertop, flipping idly through a thick, leather-bound book. Savoring the last few weeks of pleasure reading before you returned to Hogwarts for your final year and would be too consumed in school to find time for hobbies.

You had spent most of your summer in the shop, not that you minded. The crowded maze of a building was like your second home, providing a much-needed haven from your families chaotic manor. Truthfully, you savored summers in the shop, unlike Hogwarts and your family home, here you were in charge. The shop ran by your schedule and your rules.

The chime of the doorbell cut through the quiet, typically you had a few visitors throughout the day. Many of them friends of your family or the occasional lost first-year. Your eyes flicked to the door, setting your book aside.

Two tall figures crossed the threshold, and your heart sank. Fred and George Weasley.

You recognized them immediately - their flaming red hair, boisterous laughter, and of course their tendency to cause chaos wherever they went. Hogwart’s notorious pranksters stood out like a pair of sore thumbs in your shop.

You feel yourself tense behind the counter, watching as they glanced around with curious stares. They didn’t belong here, you knew that much, and from the inquisitive yet hesitant expressions they wore, they did too. But Knockturn Alley had a way of attracting all kinds of customers - especially when they were searching for something they couldn’t find elsewhere. You had a feeling they were up to no good.

“Blimey, this place is cheerful huh Georgie?” Fred called out loudly, his brash voice echoing through the narrow aisles of shelves and cabinets. So clearly out of place in a shop such as your own. Looking at his brother as he brushed a hand over a shelf of dusty potion vials.

You stayed silent, spine rigid as you sent them an unimpressed glare. The twins however didn’t seem to notice, not even glancing your way as they gawked at the assortment of forbidden magical goods on display.

George, was already across the room, picking up an ancient cursed dagger from a shelf clearly labeled “do not touch” in a bold angry scrawl. His slender fingers brushed dangerously close to its blade.

Your eyes narrow, voice sharp as you call out, “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Unless you fancy losing a hand, Weasley.”

George snatched his hand back, startled by your voice as he hadn’t noticed the presence of the shopkeeper. A flicker of acknowledgment and bashfulness in his eye as he set the dagger back into its stand.

His smile was boyish, charming even, but you didn’t waver. You weren’t amused, and you weren’t going to let them get away with their usual reckless antics here. Your family’s shop was dangerous - its contents were not for the careless or the foolish.

Fred, on the other hand, seemed intent on pushing the boundaries. Reaching for an ornate vase perched precariously on a pedestal near the counter, tipping it dangerously close to the edge.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you watched the vase teeter on the edge of the table. Snatching your wand from under the desk and catching the vase just before it hit the floor. The shining black ceramic just above the hardwood, frozen in place as you scowled at the twins.

“That’s worth more than your life,” you snapped, moving the vase to a different shelf out of reach from the twins. “Try not to break anything, Weasley. Unless you want to be in debt for the next three generations."

Fred held up his palms in mock surrender, grinning. “Easy there. No need to be so touchy.”

You ignored him, your patience wearing thin. The Weasleys were loud, obnoxious, and far too reckless to be in here. The sooner they left, the better. You had no interest in entertaining any sort of banter with the twins, surprised you could even find it within yourself to not kick them out of your shop that very second.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of them rummaging through your family’s carefully curated inventory, George placed a small vial of Ashwinder eggs on the counter. Not particularly nefarious or ancient, but certainly hard to come by, and quite expensive due to its rarity.

“That’ll be 50 Galleons,” you said flatly, not in the mood for negotiation.

Fred leaned against the counter, flashing a grin. “Fifty Galleons? How about we call it twenty-five? We are just some poor schoolboys trying to make an honest living after all.”

You don’t budge. “This isn’t a joke shop, and I don’t haggle. If you want cheap, I suggest looking elsewhere.” You looked the twins up and down, a scowl forming on your face. Your words cold and cutting. The look exchanged between the twins told you they weren’t used to being dismissed so easily.

You could see the flicker of irritation in George’s eyes as he stepped forward, “Right. Must be nice, being able to charge whatever you want. Us Weasleys wouldn’t know anything about that though, would we?” His tone, though light, carried a hint of bitterness that made your jaw tighten. You didn’t care for his attempts to belittle your family’s business, nor his declaration of what he thought your goods were worth.

The air between you thickened, but you held your ground, refusing to let their words affect you. “Fifty Galleons,” you repeated coolly.

Begrudgingly the twins paid, sliding a pile of gold coins across the counter in a messy heap. Their smiles gone, replaced with clear annoyance and tension that simmered beneath the surface.

As they left the shop, the bell chimed in their wake, Fred turning to shoot you one last look, “We’ll be seeing you around. Don’t miss us too much."

You watched them go, glaring down your nose as the shop door slammed shut, the quiet you longed for returning like a heavy cloak. You should have been relieved by their absence. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time Fred and George Weasley darkened your doorstep. And despite yourself, the thought unsettled you more than you cared to admit.