#(and that in the past he's talked about the love of Creating for screen for amateurs AND he's brought back confidential/unleashed)

[popcornforone]

ARE YOU NOT EDUCATED?!

A Mr Ben Fan Fic (with some surprises)

At the time of writing this after creating & editing a first draft of this fic, it’s just gone past midnight into Monday 24th March. The last week we were spoilt for Pedro content & when we get our man looking that good for so many days it’s hard to stop the creative juices going. So yesterday after I posted something on Saturday which took off, I decided to write a fic about it, & well once again Mr Ben is our suffering man for this.

Synopsis:- after the release of Gladiator 2 it’s all the kids at school can talk about so Ben asks you to come & sit in on one of his enthusiastic classes

Word count:- 8200

Warnings:-DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral sex 69, size mentioned, lots of innuendo, swearing, colleagues to lovers, unrequited love, age gap, alluding to more sex, teasing, fantasy’s, role play.

Thanks as always for stopping by & having a read peoples. It’s always really appreciated that you read these. Yea I know I was meant to slow down with the fics but I just can’t stop writing at the moment.

Monday second period, your free lesson, no kids, no interruptions, time to play catch up. You were halfway through grading a stack of essays when a familiar, slightly exasperated voice broke your concentration.

“Please tell me you’re free third period on Wednesday.” You glanced up from your desk to see Mr. Ben standing in your doorway, leaning against the frame with the world-weary look of a man who had just fought a long & exhausting battle except, instead of a battlefield, it was probably the high school hallway. His dark curls were slightly disheveled, & he was gripping his flask probably filled with strong coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Uh…” You hesitated, already sensing whatever he was about to ask would be a lot. “Why?”

He sighed & stepped fully into the room, rubbing a hand down his face. “I need another teacher to monitor my lesson because my students have lost their minds. Every single one of them has apparently watched Gladiator 2 this weekend at the cinema, which, by the way, they are not old enough to see they are underage, & now they’re convinced they’re living in ancient Rome.”

You bite back a laugh. “Oh no.” You hadn’t had this issue yet, maybe your students knew to not bring it up with you. Where as they all see Ben as a much more fun teacher who would have probably seen the film this weekend. He had, you’d actually gone with him & a couple of other friends as a large group to see it. You did sit next to Ben & share popcorn with him while you fawned over Paul & Pedro on the big screen.

“Oh yes,” he said, dropping dramatically into the chair across from your desk. “I tried to start a lesson on the fall of the Republic, thinking it would at least make them read, & one of them actually stood up and shouted, ‘The Senate is corrupt!’”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh. “That’s… impressive?”

“It’s insufferable.” He gestured vaguely, looking at you like he was already regretting every life choice that had led him here. “They keep calling me ‘General,’ they refuse to sit unless it’s in some kind of weird, dramatic gladiator pose, & one kid actually tried to fight another kid with a ruler because he said he ‘had to earn his freedom.’”

At that, you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. “Okay, yeah. That’s a disaster.”

“Exactly!” He pointed at you like you finally got it. “So now I need backup. Someone to keep them from forming an actual underground fighting ring while I try to salvage my lesson.” He tilted his head slightly, giving you an exaggerated pleading look. “Please? For the good of the Republic?” Those eyes love to be big & pleading. So brown. So smouldering.

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “Fine. I’ll help.”

Ben let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Thank you. You are a true ally to Rome.” He winked.

You smirked. “Just promise me you’re not going to encourage them.” There was a pause. A very suspicious pause.

“…Define ‘encourage.’”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Ben.”

He stood there with a sheepish look, already backing toward the door. “See you Wednesday!” With his coffee in hand he made his exit, leaving you with the distinct feeling that whatever was about to happen in his classroom later this week was going to be absolutely unhinged.

You weren’t trying to look nice today. Not exactly. It’s just that… well, if you were going to spend a whole period sitting in the back of Ben’s classroom, watching him flail through whatever chaos his students had planned, there was no harm in making sure you looked presentable. So what if you spent an extra few minutes on your hair? Or picked a shirt that you knew looked good on you? That was just… professionalism. Totally normal. Absolutely not because of the way Mr. Ben somehow managed to make a button-down & rolled-up sleeves look ridiculously attractive every single day.

Nope. Not at all.

By the time third period rolled around, you were a nervous ball of energy for lots of reasons. You were already seated at the back of his classroom, casually checking your phone as you waited for him to arrive. The desks were empty for now, but you could practically feel the energy that was about to hit. Those kids were going to walk in like they were entering the Colosseum, & you were just here to keep them from actually killing each other & help Ben out in anyway you could.

Then, the door opened. In walked Ben. In a tunic!

Not just any tunic, a white Roman-style tunic with a fitted waist, draped fabric, & a damn leather strap slung over one shoulder like he’d just stepped off the set of the movie. Like he was actually Pedro Pascal.

Your brain short-circuited. He was still wearing his usual work shoes, & he had a coffee in one hand, but somehow, he still looked like he belonged on an ancient battlefield instead of a public high school classroom. Your fingers tightened around your phone as you stared, way too hard, at the ridiculous yet unfairly good-looking sight in front of you. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Ben, completely oblivious to the effect he was having, blew out a breath & ran a hand through his dark curls. “Okay, before you say anything, just know that I tried to resist.”

You blinked, mouth slightly open. “Resist… what, exactly?”

He motioned vaguely at himself. “This. The whole… outfit.” Your brain was still buffering. “But then,” he continued, sighing dramatically, “I realized that if I don’t lean into it, they’re just going to push harder. So, I figured, fine. Let’s embrace the chaos. If they want a gladiator, I’ll give them a gladiator.”

Oh, you were so in trouble. You’ve had a thing for Ben for a while but this was now unlocking a fantasy you didn’t know you had. The white tunic, the knees on display, his hair all messy. It was going to make you a hot mess especially if he was going to use his strict teacher voice at the kids, that always made something brew inside your loins.

You swallowed, forcing your voice to stay even. “Uh-huh. & you think this is going to help?” Ben shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee like he wasn’t currently dressed like every history nerd’s fantasy.

“Honestly? I have no idea. But if we’re going down, we’re going down in style.”

You nodded slowly, crossing your legs to keep yourself from fidgeting. “Right. Totally. Very… strategic of you.”

He shot you a grin. “Glad you think so. You ready?”

Absolutely not. But before you could respond, the first wave of students started trickling in, & as soon as they saw him, all hell broke loose.

“GENERAL BENEDICTUS HAS ARRIVED!” One of them screeched, the madness began.

Ben barely had time to set his coffee down before the classroom erupted into full-blown hysteria.

“GENERAL BENEDICTUS HAS ARRIVED! Roma! Roma! Roma!”

Half the class immediately slammed their fists over their hearts in some kind of dramatic salute, while the other half started chanting. Ben sighed, rubbing his temples like a man who had seen too much.

“Guys, we talked about this. No cult-like behavior before noon.”

You, meanwhile, were still recovering from the sheer visual impact of him in that tunic, so you barely managed to stifle a laugh. A group of students suddenly realised you were there. Your little chuckle instantly recognisable. A few whispers started going around.

“Miss is in awe of your presence, General,” one of them announced solemnly.

You immediately choked on air. “That is not what’s happening, I’m merely here to observe” not that any child really paid attention to that statement. Neither did Ben, the absolute menace, he grinned as he addressed you staying in character.

“You hear that? You’re in awe.”

You shot him a sharp look, refusing to acknowledge the warmth creeping up your neck. “I’m in awe of how you still have a job.” That only made him laugh as he reached for his glasses, sliding them on in one smooth motion before ruffling his curls, because apparently, he needed to make this harder for you. Those thick frames make you feel so unnecessary. You swore he did it just to be annoying. Or worse, just to test you. Because now, with the slightly messy hair & those glasses slipping down his nose, he looked less like a ridiculous history teacher playing dress-up & more like some unfairly attractive historian who had just come back from excavating Pompeii. It was too much. You needed help. You needed divine intervention. You needed to not think about attractive mr ben is normally let alone right now.

But instead, you’ve got a classroom of unruly students, whispering like this was some kind of romance subplot in their imaginary Roman drama.

One kid leaned over to another and muttered, “The Empress is struggling to contain her feelings.”

Ben clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s enough. Everyone focus, it’s time to learn.” Damn that strict voice made the heat rise even more.

Silence. Blank stares. One kid yawned. Another pulled out their phone. Ben sighed. “Oh, so now you’re quiet?”

One of the students shrugged. “It’s just, you know… we were expecting something a little more…” He gestured vaguely. “Inspirational.”

Ben arched an eyebrow. “You want inspiration?”

“Yeah! Like, something that moves us. Like Maximus or Lucius did.”

A slow, devious smirk crept across Ben’s face. without warning, he turned, swept his arm dramatically across the room & launched into a deep, commanding voice:

“What we do in life… echoes in eternity.”

You are trying so hard to play a poker face but it’s failing. This is not good for your own imagination.

The class lost their minds. Gasps. Cheering. Someone actually stood up & yelled, “HONOUR TO GENERAL BENEDICTUS!”

You? You just sat there, gripping your chair so tightly your knuckles went white, because of course the one time you had to monitor his class was the day he decided to be the most attractive man on Earth. Ben had no idea of the effect he was having on you.

The classroom was buzzing. The students were practically vibrating with excitement, fully buying into whatever delusions of grandeur General Benedictus had inflicted upon them. Ben, clearly thriving on the attention, paced at the front of the room like he was about to lead an army into battle. You, meanwhile, were still trying to recover from that damn what we do in life echoes in eternity moment. You were not recovering well.

“Alright, soldiers of Rome,” Ben called out, clapping his hands together. “Since you all think you’re gladiators now, let’s see if you’ve actually learned anything.”

Once again Silence. The students, so loud just a second ago, suddenly looked anywhere but at him, textbook signs of kids who definitely didn’t do the assigned reading. Ben let out a long, dramatic sigh. Then, with a slow turn & a sharp flick of his wrist, he pointed straight at them.

“ARE YOU NOT EDUCATED?”

The students erupted in laughter. Someone pounded their desk. Another kid actually fell out of their chair. This was the most chaotic & most engaged you had ever seen a class.

But You on the inside, You were so done.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath, pressing your fingers to your temples. Ben just smirked. Smirked! Like he knew exactly what he was doing & was loving every second of it. If he wanted to be that dramatic, then he’d better start actually teaching something.

“So,” he continued, rolling his shoulders back. Such big broad shoulders that you had tried to rest your head on in the cinema when this outfit was on the screen almost dropping hints to him that he could be your general “Let’s try this again. Who can tell me what the phrase strength & honor meant in the context of Roman military culture?”

Silence. More averted gazes. You sighed. Classic kids.

Ben, still ever the optimist, scanned the room, waiting for someone to answer. When no one did, he huffed & turned toward you.

“My lady?”

Your brain crashed.

Like, full system shutdown. Because first of all… my lady?!

Second of all, he had said it so smoothly, like it was the most normal thing in the world, like it wasn’t a one-way ticket to your complete& total flustered demise. Like he had been Acacius trying to seduce his wife in the film. Heat flooded your face instantly. You were absolutely sure, that you had just turned the exact shade of a ripe tomato.

“W-what?” you croaked, barely processing the question.

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at your sudden inability to function. “Strength & honor. What did it mean?”

Oh. Right. The actual lesson. You’d completely forgotten this was actually happening.

You cleared your throat, trying to will yourself back to sanity. “Uh, it was a motto used by Roman soldiers. It represented their loyalty to Rome & their personal code of ethics, courage, discipline, self-sacrifice.”

Ben grinned, snapping his fingers. “Exactly! See? At least someone did the reading.”

The students barely reacted, still caught up in the fact that their history teacher had just called you my lady.

You could feel them staring at you. Whispering. Giggling. Just to make it worse, one kid whispered, “The General & his Empress… a forbidden love.” But it was near you & loud enough that you could hear it.

You wanted to die.Ben, oblivious as ever, just sighed dramatically. “Can we please focus?”You were never going to live this down.

Ben then actually started teaching, everything still chaotic but getting calmer. A bit like the senate in Rome. You were so close to regaining control of yourself. Sure, you were still vaguely overheating from the my lady incident, but at least Ben had moved on. At least the students were somewhat engaged again.

“Alright, let’s talk about the structure of a Roman legion. Who can tell me how it was organized?” Ben asked the class. Dead silence. The students just stared at him, their newfound obsession with gladiators clearly not extending to actual military formations. Ben groaned. “Seriously? Nothing?”Still nothing.

You sighed, pushing back your chair as you stood up. “Okay, come on. You all know at least something about this.” The moment you moved to the front of the classroom, the energy shifted. You had co taught in the past but usually he was in a blue shirt & you hadn’t put as much effort into your look as you had today.

A low murmur ran through the students. Smirks. Whispering. Your stomach dropped. You had just hand-delivered them a golden opportunity to make things worse.

Ben, still completely unaware, just gestured toward you. “See? She believes in you. Show her that her faith is not misplaced.”

One of the kids leaned forward, grinning. “Ohhh, she believes in you, General.”

A chorus of ooohs swept through the room.You froze.

Ben turned to you, frowning in confusion. “Wait, what?”

More snickers. Another kid stage-whispered, “Our Empress stands beside her General at last.” You could feel your soul leaving your body. It’s hard enough to get kids to respect you at school but now, this would spread like the plague.

Ben blinked at the class, then looked back at you. Really looked at you. & after many years of being colleagues & friends finally, it happened. You saw the exact moment realization dawned on his face. The slightly widened eyes. The way his breath hitched just barely. The slow, dawning comprehension that maybe, just maybe, this was affecting you a little more than it should. Your lips parted slightly, your whole body tense, praying he wouldn’t say anything. Instead, being Ben, the hapless fool he is, made it worse. His mouth curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.

“Oh,” he said, voice dropping just enough to be dangerous. “I see.”

No, you don’t see anything, shut up shut up shut up.

Before you could form a single coherent thought, he turned back to the class, hands on his hips like he was thoroughly enjoying this. “Alright, settle down,” he said, his usual easy confidence returning. “The Empress & I are here to teach, not provide entertainment.”

Laughter. Absolute chaos. Someone actually clapped. You were done. Absolutely, completely done. worst of all? Ben knew it now. You could see the amusement in his stupidly handsome face. The awareness. You were so screwed.

Eventually bell finally rang, cutting through the chaos like a lifeline. You had survived just. Ben was in his element in lots of ways. Students grabbed their things, still whispering & giggling as they filed out. One of them actually had the nerve to pause by the door, hand over their heart, & declare, “Strength & honour, General. & … best of luck with your Empress.”

Ben barely held back a laugh. “Out.” You said sternly. The kid grinned & bolted before you could put them in detention for sassiness. just like that, the classroom was empty. Except for you & him. You exhaled, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Well. That was…”

Ben leaned against his desk, smirking. “Educational?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “I was going to say insufferable. But sure. Let’s go with educational.”

He chuckled, arms folding over his chest, the fabric of that damn tunic pulling across his broad manly shoulders in a way that was deeply unfair.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head at you. “You survived.”

“Barely.” You scoffed. You turned to grab your things, determined to get out of this room before your body temperature spiked again. But then, because the universe clearly hated you, Ben spoke again.

“You know,” he mused, “for someone who came here to keep my class in order, you seemed pretty entertained.” You froze. Slowly, so slowly, you turned back to him, carefully schooling your face into neutrality.

“I was entertained,” you admitted, tilting your head. “Your theatrics were… impressive.”

Ben let out a low, amused hum. “Uh-huh.” He was looking at you now, not just with the usual casual charm, but with something… else. Something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could think too hard about it, you added, because clearly, you hadn’t suffered enough yet:

“Plus, you did look the part.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Silence. Tension that the sharpest Roman blade would find hard to cut. Ben’s eyebrows lifted slightly, that slow smirk returning like he knew exactly what you meant.

“Oh?”

Oh no. Abort. Abort! Your brain thinks but your heart is leaping with joy.

“I mean…”You waved vaguely at his tunic, grasping for literally any escape. “The outfit. It worked.” Again the wrong but right thing to say. Ben watched you, eyes flicking over your face, his smirk deepening.something had shifted. The teasing was still there, but underneath it, there was something quieter. Something sharper. Like he was actually seeing you. For the first time today, maybe for the first time ever, you weren’t sure you could handle it. Your own little crush no one knew about had been fine for you to secretly have on Ben but now you could see it his eyes… he knew.

You cleared your throat, grabbing your bag. “Anyway, I should go.” Ben was still watching you, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. As you reached the door, he called out,his voice lower, softer:

“You really think I looked the part?” You didn’t dare turn around. Instead, you just threw a look over your shoulder, as casually as possible:

“Don’t let it go to your head, General.”

“Of course not…” there was a slight pause before you left & then you heard him say those two words “…my lady”

You left quickly back to your own class room, before he could see the ridiculous, completely flustered smile that had taken over your face.

You had almost recovered. Almost. How you taught period four you had no idea at all but you got through it. You were desperately trying to focus on your actual job, shoving any & all thoughts of General Benedictus out of your mind, & those rather stunning knees.

Ben was already in the teachers’ lounge when you walked in at lunch time, back in his usual teaching look, blue shirt lose tie. Not your favourite though he only wears that on parents evening.

Because the universe loved to torment you today, he was mid-conversation with another staff member, loudly recounting his lesson. You hesitated at the door, debating if you should just turn around & starve, but it was too late. You were already here. You could do this. You’d just grab your lunch, not make eye contact, & pretend like Ben hadn’t spent an entire period unknowingly ruining your life. Easy… or so you think.

You headed straight for the fridge, determined to keep your head down, however Ben’s smooth voice carried across the room. Always music to your ears.

“I mean, I knew they’d be excited about Gladiator 2,” he was saying, “but I did not expect full-scale reenactments.”

The other teacher, a geography guy from down the hall chuckled. “Yeah, I heard one of the kids say something about General Benedictus?”

Ben groaned. “Oh, that.”You stiffened, pretending to be very interested in your lunchbox. “They started calling me that the second I walked in,” Ben continued. “I figured if I didn’t lean into it, they’d only get worse.”

The other teacher laughed. “Well, they’re definitely invested. I overheard a couple of them still talking about it after class.”

Ben smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah? What were they saying?” Your heart started to race.

The geography teacher grinned, grabbing his coffee. “Something about ‘the General and his lady.’” You choked on absolutely nothing. Ben froze. You both knew by the end of the day the whole highs school would know. You are both doomed.

The other teacher frowned, looking over, not putting two & two together . “You okay?”

You cleared your throat, way too quickly. “Yeah! Fine! Totally fine!” Ben turned his head toward you so fast you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash. Slowly, his lips curled into a smirk. The menace of the man.

“Oh,” he said, voice way too entertained. “So you did hear all that.” You hated him. But you also wanted him.

Desperately trying to play it cool, you shrugged & grabbed your drink. “Hard not to, considering you’re basically broadcasting it to the entire room.”

Ben hummed, still smirking. “Huh. & here I thought you weren’t that entertained by my theatrics.”

Any bit of resolve & restrain from you was falling, crumbling like the Roman Empire.

The geography teacher, completely oblivious to the war happening between you two, just laughed. “Man, those kids are gonna be talking about this for weeks.”

Ben shot you one last look, smug, amused, interested, before turning back to him. “Yeah,” he said, lips quirking. “Something tells me this isn’t over.” You practically sprinted out of the room with your lunch. Because, judging by the way Ben had just looked at you, you had a very bad feeling he was absolutely right. There was nothing you could do to stop this plague of the general & his empress being the school gossip.

You barely managed to hold yourself together until you were out of the teachers’ lounge. The second the door swung shut behind you, you let out a sharp, frustrated breath. You didn’t know your heart could pump that hard & fast. Every nerve on edge. You stormed down the hallway, gripping your lunch like it had personally offended you. You weren’t even thinking about where you were going, just that you needed out. Away from the smirking menace that was Ben. Away from the way he’d looked at you, like he was considering something he never had before.

Your feet carried you straight to his classroom. Of course they did. It was auto pilot. On Wednesdays you & Ben always have a little catch up at lunch in his class before the afternoon lessons. You shoved the door open, dropped your lunch on a desk, & pressed your hands against the cool surface, trying to breathe. You needed a minute. Just one minute to collect yourself. To not think of that smug handsome face.

The door swung open behind you.

You knew who it was before he even spoke.

“Wow,” Ben said, voice far too amused as he leaned against the doorframe. “Didn’t realize my classroom was your personal melodrama retreat.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Oh god, just leave it for 5 minutes please”

Ben stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. You felt him approach before you even turned.

“I mean, you did run out of there pretty fast,” he continued, his tone light but aware. “Almost like you were trying to avoid something.”

You whipped around, pointing at him. “Oh, don’t you dare…”

He raised his hands in mock innocence. “What? I’m just making an observation.”

You scoffed, grabbed you lunch & went to walk past him to head to anywhere he wouldn’t be. But Ben, of course, moved with you. He turned just enough to stay in your space, his smirk deepening as he watched you try to put distance between you.

“C’mon,” he drawled, voice dangerously smooth. “Tell me the truth. You were a little entertained today.” He was close enough you could hear his voice reverberate. Sounding so soothing. Ben leaned in slightly. “Also…” His voice dropped just a bit. Just enough to really ruin you. “You did say I looked the part.”

You whirled on him, eyes flashing. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “No, you don’t.” The tension was suffocating now.

Something tight & hot crackled in the space between you, heavy enough to steal your breath. You swallowed hard, pulse hammering as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “You…” Your voice came out shakier than intended. “You are the most insufferable man I have ever met.” Ben tilted his head, studying you. His smirk faltered for just a second. His eyes flicked to your lips. that was when you knew. He wasn’t just teasing anymore. He felt more .He wanted you flustered. He wanted this tension. He wanted you.

Your breath hitched.

Ben exhaled slowly, his voice turning low—thoughtful.

“…Huh.”

You swallowed. “What?”

Ben’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip, his gaze burning now. “Just thinking,” he murmured. “Maybe the kids were onto something.”Your stomach flipped. Because suddenly, you were the one being studied. You were the one making him pause.The tension was too much.You needed to get out.

Now!

Without another word, you spun on your heel, practically running for the door. Ben didn’t stop you. But as you yanked the door open, his voice followed you, soft, teasing, and way too damn smug.

“Speak later, my lady.” You slammed the door shut behind you. Ben on the other side of the door just smiled. Feeling his own butterflies. Wondering how his heart had never felt this way about you before.

You had never been so happy to see the end of the school day. Back home, no kids, no gossip, no Ben or General Benedictus. You had done everything in your power to shake off the day. You’d taken a shower. You’d put on comfy pajamas. You’d made tea, curled up on your couch, & sworn to yourself that you weren’t going to think about him.

Yet Here you were, staring at your phone. Almost like you were manifesting it as you opened your messages, right there, was his name on your screen. New message to read.

Ben: So. About today.

You blinked.Oh, hell no.

You couldnt help it though. You were typing back before you could stop yourself.

You: No.

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

Ben: What do you mean, “no”???

You groaned, flopping back against your couch. Of course he was doing this. Of course he wasn’t letting it go.

Another message popped up.

Ben: C’mon, admit it. You had fun today.

You hesitated.Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, torn between ignoring him &…well …Being honest. Because you had fun. You did. You always did with him. Even when he was an idiot. He was your friend, your idiot & you wanted him to be more than a friend. Even when he was making you want to tear your hair out. You needed him more than air especially, when he was making your stomach flip with nothing but a smirk a

& a well-placed my lady. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head before finally typing back.

You: It was tolerable.

Ben’s reply was instant.

Ben: Tolerable?? Wow. Okay. I see how it is.

You smirked, suddenly very pleased with yourself.

You: Glad we’re on the same page.

A pause. Three dots… & then

Ben: …And what page is that, exactly?

Your breath hitched. Because that… that was flirting. The menace. The smug handsome menace. You bit your lip, heart hammering as you stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to respond

…Another message.

Ben: Because personally, I think we’re on a very interesting page.

You froze.Your pulse roared.Oh.Oh. Not that he could see you getting flustered, but you felt like he could. Ben was not just teasing anymore. He was doing this on purpose. Your stomach flipped, for a split second, you considered throwing your phone across the room, changing your number & running away. But that was to irrational. Instead, you took a steadying breath &typed back, pulse racing.

You: And what kind of page would that be, General?

This time, his reply took a little longer. when it finally appeared, your entire body burned.

Ben: Wouldn’t you like to know, my lady?

Oh, you were so in trouble.

You had barely slept. Which was entirely Ben’s fault. When you did eventually get some

Sleep, your dreams were filled with him wearing that costume, smiling like the cat with all the cream & also adjusting his glasses in the sexiest way. After that conversation last night, especially the teasing, the my lady, you had spent hours replaying every little moment from yesterday, overthinking everything.

Now on Thursday you were sitting at your desk, nursing a coffee like it was the only thing keeping you alive, desperately trying to pretend like you weren’t waiting for him to show up. Because of course he was going to show up. He was Ben. Even without his information he liked to pop in each morning to see how his friend was… now the tension & unspoken words meant more than friends was very much on the cards. when the door finally opened, & he stepped inside you felt the flutter of your heart. Yeah. You were so screwed. Because Ben wasn’t just Ben today. He was smug Ben. Ben with a purpose. & this Ben, well he was wearing your favorite tie.

You froze. It wasn’t parents evening, this was a deliberate choice for you… for his empress eyes only. Ben smirked, strolling in with zero shame, his hands tucked in his pockets like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Morning,” he said casually. God that voice was so enchanting. Your eyes flicked to the tie. Then back to his way too pleased face.

“You’re wearing that on purpose,” you accused.

Ben tilted his head, all faux innocence. “Wearing what?”

You glared. “The tie.”

Ben glanced down at himself like he’d just now noticed. “Oh. Huh. I guess I am.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Well it’s still a nice tie” he shrugged at your words. “your impossible somethings you know that”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer. “You said that yesterday too. Starting to think it’s your pet name for me.”

Your face burned. Like you had been a naughty student being told off by her favourite teacher.

Before you could snap at him, he pulled something from behind his back, a coffee. Your favorite coffee. He placed it on your desk with a smirk. “Peace offering.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. “Why?”

Ben shrugged, his voice dipping into something softer,something almost sincere.

“Because I was kind of an ass yesterday, it was kinda fun though,” he admitted. “& because…” His lips twitched. “I don’t want my lady holding a grudge.”

You hated how much that stupid nickname made your stomach flip. You sighed, glancing at the coffee. “You’re so lucky I need caffeine.”

Ben chuckled. “I know.”

Yours in your mug had gone cold so because you were weak, you took a sip. It was so good. You let out a little moan, this was when Ben moved closer. Close enough that the air shifted. Close enough that you could smell him, his stupid cologne, the faint scent of coffee on his breath. Close enough that your heart stumbled, because suddenly, it didn’t feel like teasing anymore. It felt like something else. Something bigger. Something dangerous. Something desired.

You swallowed hard, setting the cup down with slightly shaky hands. “You should…”You cleared your throat your voice trembling & betraying you. “You should go before class starts.” Ben didn’t move. His gaze flicked down, to your lips, which you didn’t realise were pouting.Then back up. Slow. Intentional. & so very hot. Your breath hitched.

finally, Ben exhaled, stepping back with a knowing smirk.”See you later, my lady.”

He left you staring as he walked out, trying to comprehend its all, gripping your desk, completely ruined.

The day had been torture. Ever since Ben waltzed into your classroom that morning, smirking, wearing that tie, giving you your coffee, he’d been everywhere. Usually this is nice but after the recent developments of the last couple of days this was suddenly impossible. Walking past your door at just the right moment. Flashing you a look during lunch. Brushing just a little too close in the hallway. Every single time, it sent your brain straight into dangerously unprofessional territory. With that & kids from all year groups asking you about his infamous history lesson, You’d barely made it through the day.

Just before the final bell, you found yourself back in his classroom. Alone. The excuse had been flimsy at best, something about checking on a lesson plan, making sure tomorrow’s class was set, but the truth? You had caved. Because avoiding him clearly wasn’t working. Neither was pretending you didn’t want him just as badly as he wanted you.

You stood near his desk, fingers tapping against the edge, when the door opened behind you. You didn’t even have to turn around. You knew who it was.

Ben’s voice was low, teasing. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You let out a sharp breath, turning to face him. “You are”

“I know,” he smirked. “Impossible.” You glared, but your own eyes danced at him betraying you. Ben took another step closer. “Admit it,” he murmured, tilting his head. “You’ve been thinking about it all day.”

You swallowed. “Thinking about what?”

Ben’s gaze dropped, to your lips. Your stomach flipped.

“This,” he murmured.

His large hand cupped your face, your eyes locked, warmth filled you veins as your lips parted & then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was everything he had been holding back. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him, & god, he kissed like he meant it. Like he had been dying to do this. Like he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Your fingers curled into his shirt, your body melting into him, holy hell…this hot & it was happening. After all the teasing. After all the tension. It was bloody happening.

Crash!

The door swung open. A chorus of outrageous teenage gasps filled the room.

“Ohhh my god!”

“Called it! Called it!”

“THE GENERAL & HIS LADY.”

You ripped yourself away from Ben, mortified, while he just groaned, rubbing his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. You turned to face the students, who were, at this point, losing their minds.

One of them dramatically clutched their chest. “Sir, I feel betrayed.”

Another wagged their finger at you both. “So that’s why she was in the back of the class yesterday, she wasn’t just observing; she was admiring.”

Ben let out a deep sigh. “Alright, that’s enough. You all have classes to get to” It did nothing.

One kid just grinned at you. “Miss, was the lesson that entertaining?”You wanted to die.

Ben turned to you, clearly biting back a smile. “You did say you were entertained.” You digged him in the ribs, Hard.

The kids absolutely lost it, Ben just laughed, because now, neither of you had any chance of pretending this wasn’t real. You didn’t want to. You were ecstatic Ben felt the same way as you.

Some of the kids dispersed & left the door & you saw this as your moment to leave too. You had made it maybe three steps out of Ben’s classroom before a very firm hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you right back inside.

The door now shut. Just you & your man. The kids all off to their lessons their little display they had witnessed now private.

Ben wasted no time & pressed up against the desk, staring up at a very smug, very smirking Ben. You exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way your entire body thrummed at the closeness.

“Running away?” he asked, voice way too amused.

You glared. “You’re insufferable.”

Ben just hummed. “& yet, here you are.”

Your pulse roared. Because he was right. You were here. & you weren’t running. Not anymore.

“I’ve always been here Ben, it’s always been you” you run your hand through his hair.

Ben studied you, his smirk softening just a bit.

“So,” he murmured, voice dipping into something dangerous, “are we going to talk about what just happened?” You swallowed hard.

“Well,” you managed, trying to sound casual, “we did just get caught making out in your classroom, so…” you face can’t hide your delight.

Ben groaned, closing his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You grinned. “Oh, we will never be allowed to live this down.”

His eyes flicked open, burning now. “That so?”

Your stomach flipped. “Mhm.”

Ben tilted his head, watching you closely. “Y’know,” he mused, voice dropping just enough to ruin you, “I actually kept the costume.”Your breath hitched. Oh, that was dangerous information. Your lips parted slightly, your brain immediately spiraling into places it shouldn’t…

Ben noticed. He always notices even when he thought he didn’t.

His smirk deepened. “Oh, you like that, huh?”You refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But your face, the way it burned, the way your gaze flickered just slightly, betrayed you.

Ben grinned. “Wow,” he teased, “& here I thought you were all prim and proper”

“I am into roleplay,” you cut in flatly, surprising even yourself. Ben froze. You saw it, the slight stumble, the way his pupils dilated. His tongue gliding over his bottom lip.

“Ohhh,” he murmured, stepping closer—too close. “You’re going to be so much fun.” Your breath caught.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in slightly, just enough to whisper, “Isn’t that right, Benedictus ?” Ben froze solid. For the first time all day, he was the one caught off guard. His jaw tensed. His fingers twitched against your hip. His entire body stilled as something hotter, something darker, flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, you were the one in control.

Ben inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking over your face. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, my lady.”

You smirked. “Am I?”

Ben exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You have no idea what you just started.”Your heart pounded. Then just as he leaned in, just as you swore he was about to ruin you completely.

A knock.

You both jumped back as the door creaked open slightly.

“Uh, sir?”

You turned, only to see one of the students from earlier, barely holding back a shit-eating grin.

“We forgot our books,” they said, clearly lying, their eyes flicking between the two of you.

Ben sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

The student just smirked. “You’re welcome.” They bolted, laughing way too hard as they ran down the hall. Ben groaned. You just grinned, grabbing your bag & heading for the door. But just before you stepped out, you leaned in one last time, letting your lips brush his ear.

“Strength & honor, Benedictus .” Leaving Ben standing there, stunned, breathless, & completely ruined. This was so not over. Not by a long shot.

One thing lead to another & it was soon Friday night. You were sat on Ben sofa, an occurrence that happened from time to time as friends. It’s usually at this time in the evening you either ask for a pillow & blanket so you can crash at his or he puts the two of you in a uber so he can make sure you get back to yours safely before taking the exact same uber back to his. He was always a gentleman to his lady, he had never truly realised it until earlier in the week.

What at the start of the week had been a friendship had tonight ended up with the two of you at a nice steak house, longing glances over wine, hand strokes, moments where silence was all the was needed, & kisses tasting better then the delicious meal you had eaten. This was more than friends. You sat in the sofa trembling a little, wondering where Ben was he had been gone a while. Had he gone to bed & forgotten about you sat on his sofa?

“My lady” you hear bounce off the walls breaking the silence.

“My gen…” you don’t complete the sentence as you turn your head to his direction. The room is now filled with your laughter. There he is. Back in his Roman costume. The white glistening, the cape swishing, the hair messed up. He’s showing off his broad shoulders & Tiny waist. Those knees, oooh they made your own go weak. He look’s ridiculous & exquisite at the same time. The smirk on his face twitching. Clearly he is glad this has an impression on you.

“Tell me, if we were the general & his wife, how would I court you?” He asks. “Would I bring you flowers, would I bring you wine, would…”

“Your favourite tie, bringing me coffee & your sexy glasses is all I’ve ever needed Benedictus” you interrupt & slowly get off the sofa making your way across to him. You hesitate at first to touch him but then see the want in his eyes so your hands glide over his shoulder. You let out a deep sigh, inhaling his scent. Always arousing.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“cos your much older & way out of my league”

You say looking down stroking the soft material. He then grabs under your chin & lifts it. The eye contact intense, his words from the soul.

“I may be slow at picking up signs, but if you’d let me know much sooner, we could have been addressing this along time ago” his thumb trails over your lips. You stand on your top toes to make sure those lips connect with his. Deep, powerful & emotional, like this kiss has been built up for years, which in your head it has. His hands were caressing your neck as the kiss got steamier before one of them slid to your back & slowly started work on the zip on your dress.

“Maybe this needs to happen somewhere more grand for a general” you say, breathy already. Radiating arousal at his touch as the zip reaches your lower back.

“Only the best for my lady” he says before he scoops you up into his arms & carry’s you to the bed you have long dream or of occupying.

Ben lays you down gently on the bed, his hands never leaving your body, as if afraid this might all vanish if he let go. You reach up, fingers immediately finding the soft folds of his cape, tugging at it slowly until it slips from his shoulders & you discard it onto the floor. Your eyes trail over him, the absurdity of the costume, the way he somehow manages to make it sexy. The chest plate is next, & as you unclip it, your knuckles brush against warm skin & tense muscle beneath. Ben watches you, breath heavy, lips parted, not saying a word. His gaze is hungry. Focused. Mush like a general about to conquer what’s rightfully his.

“Tell me,” you whisper as you reach for the fabric at his waist, “did they make underwear in ancient Rome?”

Ben huffs a soft laugh, tilting your chin with his finger. “For you? I’m going historically accurate.” & sure enough, when the final layer drops, he’s gloriously, completely bare beneath.

Your breath catches. You’ve seen him before, glimpses, tight shirts, damp post gym moments, but nothing prepared you for this. He’s all power & heat & perfectly ruined restraint, & somehow, still smirking like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You sit up, sliding your dress off your shoulders & letting it pool around your waist before you shimmy it the rest of the way down. You’re in your underwear, but not for long. Ben takes over, unclasping your bra with skillful fingers before tossing it aside. He kisses down your shoulder, your collarbone, reverent, teasing, & hot as sin.

“Now,” he says lowly, voice rough & dark against your ear. “How do you want this?” Its commanding. He’s into this.

You bite your lip, emboldened by the haze between you. “I want to taste you.”

Ben’s breath catches. His hands flex at your hips. “Yeah?” he murmurs.

You nod, grinning as you push him back onto the pillows & crawl up his body, straddling his chest for a moment, teasing, before shifting lower. At the same time, he tugs you gently forward, guiding you with that same maddening patience he always has, only this time, it’s deliciously wicked.

Before long, you’re both shifting into place, mouths hungry, bodies aligned in that perfect, obscene symmetry. You moan against him the moment he slides his tongue over you slowly, expert, so Ben. He groans, hips jerking as you take him in your mouth in return.

It’s messy, hot, overwhelming. It’s worship & ruin & everything you’ve both been holding back. He tastes like salt & skin, & you make a mental note to thank the Roman gods for whatever twist of fate led to this exact moment. Just before the edge starts to creep in, before your entire body threatens to break from the pressure of it all, Ben pulls back just long enough to murmur, breathless against your thigh:

“Still entertained, my lady?” You just moan your answer because words? Useless now… & will be for the rest of the night.

Saturday morning & Ben’s bedroom was a mess. The sheets were tangled & smelled of you. His gladiator costume was somewhere on the floor, a discarded relic of the absolute sin that had taken place. You were still breathless. Your body was boneless, melted into the mattress, your skin still buzzing from everything he’d done to you the night before & this morning. Ben, equally wrecked, lay beside you, one arm draped lazily across your stomach. Neither of you spoke. Not yet. Still in a sexual haze of lust. Because neither of you had fully recovered. But the silence wasn’t awkward. It was warm & comforting. You look at your man, watching his magnificent chest rise & fall. Noticing every drip of sweat. He’s perfect. He’s your kind of perfect.

Your fingers lazily traced along his forearm, & Ben hummed, a low, deep sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. Arousing you instantly. You turned your head, finding him already watching you. Smirking. The Smug bastard.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, voice hoarse from… well… Everything.

Ben chuckled. “& impossible” he added that made you laugh “yet…” His hand slid along your waist, pulling you even closer. “Here you are.”

Your lips twitched. He wasn’t wrong. You exhaled, tilting your head just enough to kiss him, slow, lazy, thorough. Ben sighed into it, his fingers pressing into your hip, his body shifting just enough to remind you, that He wasn’t done with you yet. His erection is already starting to form again.

When you finally pulled away, he gave you that look. The one that had ruined you in the first place. The one that meant trouble.

“Y’know,” he murmured, his nose brushing against yours, “I think that was my best history lesson yet.”

You huffed a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” His fingers trailed absently along your thigh. “& you, make an excellent student.”

Clearly the role play of him coming home after a grand battle was now making him have even more of a teacher fantasy. You were only going to encourage it. You smirked. “Think I deserve extra credit?” Ben grinned, flipping you onto your back with zero effort, settling right between your legs.

“Oh, my lady,” he murmured, voice wicked & full of promise.”I think you deserve everything.”

Then he showed you exactly what he meant.

Again.

& again.

& again.

Making sure you really were entertained.

[variousqueerthings]

I mean, yes, there's a lot of nostalgia to the 60th anniversary, but I think people will conflate that with "automatically a bit shit" because a lot of nostalgia Stuff isn't that great after a glut of lazy nostalgia-based media over the last x amount of time, but that assumes that it was bad because of it being nostalgic, and not because it was irony-poisoned, self-conscious, and unwilling to interact with the changing times and therefore a poor copy of the said thing it was being nostalgic about, rather than continuing a story. the familiar phrase by now of "all nostalgia, no sincerity"

when I'm not a fan of what one might call "nostalgia"-stories, it's not because referring to the past is automatically bad writing, it's because the writing is stale and really often it's because it reveals that whoever made the new thing definitely didn't get the same out of the classic thing that I did, and at the same time is patting themself on the back for idk. something. doing the same thing again, only this time around worse (often it's that surface level interaction with tropes, rather than themes that outs them -- and yeah, that's in the trailer, but specifically the trailer is giving very little away, so knowing they're hooking people in with a bit of allons-y or the slap or donna being sassy, while keeping the things I'm really excited about a bit more mysterious, I mean... that just makes sense?? Yeah, I recognise the callbacks, but the really important things aren't being revealed yet, like the inverse of terrible movies that show all their biggest set-pieces in the trailer, because that's all they have to offer)

and I don't see people pre-judging the potential 60th on those criteria, just on the word "nostalgia." I mean, obviously we can say this might be bad, but it's sort of a nothing-statement, and it seems kind of unfair to say that rtd would do this, when he's not done that before, specifically on a show that is super nostalgic to begin with (that is, the longest-running scifi show of all time), of which rtd was a massive fucking nerd

I assume because it's three specials with dtennant and catherine tate, but also yeah, why the hell not be nostalgic both about classic!who and the series that you created that rebooted the show (the answer is "because ten isn't the only doctor that matters," and personally, again, rtd being a massive fucking nerd, feels a bit like putting words in the man's mouth that he's never said, specifically about a show that he's super nerdy about)

feels like people are putting the stance out there that they're ready to hate it and then they can always go, "oh it was surprisingly good, actually," in case it is good, rather than be just excited going in and risk disappointment, but it's a bit boring to be honest

tempering excitement is all well and good, until it makes you the irony-poisoned one, where all nostalgia is kind of stupid really, you don't even care that much, and you know this is going to be shit, and actually looking back rtd was never good if you think about it, and ten is overrated, and david tennant isn't even a good actor actually, and catherine tate was just a shitty comedian, and you've preemptively decided to refuse to enjoy yourself

it's an anniversary, that's when the nostalgia comes out, and has done since the 10th anniversary in (checks notes) 1972!

[daemonbrain]

Part 2

1.8k, cw: ghosts a pervert, smut, readers husband is piece of work, not proofread.

Simon Riley who first saw you at the butcher's shop on the phone. 

You were a pretty thing. Wearing a pink little yoga set, one arm holding your mat and the other holding your phone to your ear as you wait for the butcher to bring out your cut of meat.

Which was taking a long time

Simon would’ve had it chopped and packed to go by now. Though, he can’t complain with the view he has of your ass- you. The man was touch starved. He hadn’t been back home in a while, back-to-back deployments keeping him occupied. His only company being his calloused and scraped hands roughly jerking himself until he came, bordering on unpleasurable. Not what some could consider enjoyable, but try being in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere for weeks on end and see if you care so much about gentle.

The borderline perverted look you were blissfully unaware of was tracking down your form. He stared at the way the material tightly clung on to every bit of you in a welcoming way, a second skin. The sweat on you from your little session.

Just how flexible does yoga make a bird like you?

It was only when he heard a grating sound come from your phone that he snapped out of his trance. Even with his bad ears from all the bullets whizzing past him, bombs going off within meters of him, and the usual shit show he did for a living he could hear the voice which bled through your phone's speaker.

"Get me a steak this time. Nonna that nasty shit from last time!"

You hurriedly turned your volume down as it blasted in your ear, startled by the voice. Chewing on your lip you pivoted towards the counter to see if your order had been brought out; the motion to no avail as the employee continued chopping away in the back room.

It was only when your other hand came into full view from the motion he noticed the absolute rock on your finger.

"Honey, I thought the salmon was pretty good." That prick clearly firing something back as you winced away from your phone once again. Gritting your teeth as if biting back your arguments, looking around to occupy your time as the man on the phone continues to speak. "I know... I'm sorry. Don't worry, it'll be ready by 7." You placatingly cooed.

"Listen, I have to go. I love y-" You began, but the moment the words tumbled from your lips you pulled the phone fully from your cheek to see a blank screen with the time staring back on you. The asshole hung up!

What a fuckin tosser.

Simon hears the butcher finally call your name with familiarity and with a sigh you step towards the counter. 

He leaned on to the wall further as he had been the entire time. Silent. Unsettling. A stark contrast to your bright appearance in the shop, the larger man brooded in his corner waiting his turn.

“See ya’ next Friday!” You still managed a bright smile at the butcher who handed you your meat.

A mild thing like you really shouldn’t be talked to so thoughtlessly, some guys are fuckwits though. He never liked the type. Why lock a bird down with a ring if you were gonna be mean to her?

“S’cuse me sir, i’m just gonna push past you here” You asked. With widened eyes, Simon gruffly mumbled a “Yeah,” out before creating a stupidly small space.

Maybe he really did want you to push past him. Or just push up on him but oh well.

Sweeping past him, you give him a toothy smile as you had so sweetly done to the butcher, as if you hadn’t got yelled at less than five minutes ago. God you really have no common sense, beaming up at the lurker in the corner at least twice your size. A girl as pretty as you should really stick to herself.

From that interaction on, Simon found himself being guided by the memory of you back to the butcher shop the next Friday.

And the next…

And the next.

Every week progressively standing closer and closer to you as you picked up your usual order. One day you had taken the liberty of starting small talk with him after recognizing his unmistakable stature. After all, there were only so many people you had seen in this shop and none so… large.

You could not deny you found this mystery man disquieting. Always dressed in dark colours, not so much as a word coming from him. Like clockwork you would come in after hot yoga, greet the butcher, he would come in, silence would ensue as you both waited for your meat, and you would leave with a quick smile.

It was rude. He had never even said a simple hello to you! Though, you suppose that it could be due to your own curt exits. The thought of the unkindness you might’ve exhibited subconsciously sent your mind into a spiral, leading to your abrupt introduction.

After all, who were you to judge! Kindness is and should always be the response in your books.

At this kindness, Simon swore he had to take a breath in as you politely outstretched your hand and spoke your name casually. Tilting his head down to your face he raises a brow skeptically, and then firmly shakes your head.

He failed to hide the shudder which wracked his body. The way your hand effortlessly slipped into his. Soft and manicured engulfed in his.

“Simon.”

“Well it’s good to meet you Simon” With the twinkly little smile you would grace him as you hauled it out of the shop. He felt the shiver go down his spine a second time when you spoke his name for the first time.

And then- it happened.

You giggled. A soft thing, no doubt intended to be small. It wasn’t to Simon though. It reverberated throughout the room, rang so prettily in his ears. Fuck. He would remember that sound later on tonight.

“Are you cold? You keep shivering. It’s pretty harsh out there right now.”

“Nah. Not really.” His accent thick as he shrugged.

Letting out a little “mhm” you nod and look back to the counter.

“I was freezing outside! Usually I walk home-” Simon already knew that “-but today I called my husband to come grab me! Way too cold!”

That visibly made him stiffen. Of course. Perfectly normal that guy is coming to get you, he’d be an idiot to leave you walking home alone in the cold.

If you were his girl, Simon wouldn’t have let you out of his sight. Fuck sakes you practically had “come mess with me” written all over you. There were creeps all over the place nowadays, (thought the creep).

He would’ve carried everything for you, scarfed down whatever the hell you had taken the time to prepare him. That husband of yours doesn’t like your salmon? Simon would. Hell if he didn’t, he’d cram it down his throat with gratitude anyways. He doubted anything could be worse than some of the rations he’s eaten on duty. 

That train of thought is pretty redundant when he takes note of how you wouldn’t be able to leave the bed to make anything.

Maybe you’d cram something of his down your throat in gratitude.

Shaking his head subtly, he hears the bells of the store door opening. He watched your face fall as you step away from him and it’s when he sees your husband's look of complete irritation he understands why.

You had grabbed your order swiftly and with a quick wave goodbye you were on your way back to your husband. Simon could only register your husband's whisper-yell as he disapprovingly glared his way. “The fuck are you doin talking to him?”. And with that you were hurriedly ushered out.

You deigned it necessary to continue greeting Simon, have little chats about the weather, any plans he had for the weekend. Tossing in your stupid jokes that he would laugh at. You interpreted it as something closer to a breathy snort-hopefully positive- and it went on as such for weeks

And every time he returned home Friday night, he came home with only one thought after. You.

As he laid in bed the same thought persisted as he slipped his cock out of his boxers, red and weeping for some sort of stimulation. He took to his usual harsh pace. You’d be so much softer.

You’d be so nice to him wouldn’t you? Coo some compliment as he lets you tug at him. Fuck he wouldn’t know what to take first.

Would you give him a blowie or a hand job? 

No. You wouldn’t be on your knees- not yet. If you’d let him have you, you’d be on your back in an instant. He’d rip the stitches of those leggings right down the middle, your panties next.

“Fuuuuuck” he moaned into the quiet of his room. He’d stick it in slow, he’d try. It would be torture not to ram himself right up to the hilt, but he’d do it for such a good girl.

That’s what you were, weren’t you? Always a nice word for someone? What would you say to him when he began to rut into you like a madman. When you would feel the pummeling intrusion, his head knocking into the deepest parts of you.

He’d be able bend you into so many different positions that you’d better hope that yoga has taught you well. Split your legs open to accommodate his imposing body size as he’d take purchase between them. Then you better hope your cunny can accommodate his other size when he spears you open on his cock.

Would you take it smiling? Would your tears roll down your cheeks, the prodding bordering too much? You’d take it either way, he knew you could. He’d rub at your clit with such tenderness he never afforded himself (as gentle as he could anyway). He’d make sure you begged to stay on his cock forever, fuck himself so deep you would be too stupid to pull away unknowing of where he ended and you started. Not that you’d have to care.

He’d flip you on to all fours and rip away your clothes entirely, pounding you from the back and instead of just his own labored breaths, the sound of skin slapping together would ring out.

In silent stoicism, he feels his balls tighten up at the thought of your perfect face stuffed into the pillows screaming your thank you’s. You probably were just as nice with someone stuffing themselves into your pussy.

At both his ruthless ministrations and boundless imagination, his release spurted all over his hand with a breathy sigh. When you were here he’d make sure to slam his hips to yours and keep them flush against you, coat your insides in hot cum better than your limp-dick husband ever could. That man wouldn’t be able to fuck you the way Simon knew he could. You deserve someone who could make you go stupid on his dick, not cry of frustration like you probably did everytime that knob who thinks himself a man rolled over after finishing himself off.

Not that you’ll have to worry about that soon

…

He wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways.

[shawtuzi]

✰ YOUR TEETH IN MY NECK ✰

a/n: i’ve been getting a lot of requests for more musician!eren and his fav fan girl and this is also ur reminder to go read the reverb series bc we would not be here without her

cw include: black fem!reader, sexting, exchange of nudes, mention of drug usage (eren was high per usual), sloppy kissing, oral f&m!receiving, unprotected sex, mating press & prone bone position, see from the side, multiple orgasms, eren nuts in and on her lmao, lots of dirty talk, an ‘i love you’ confession bc they’re so obsessed with each other, eren has a god complex andddd i think that’s it lmao/// wc: 5.2k

new message from renny ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

i’m in the city. i wanna see u.

the cursor of your laptop circled around his message, a giddy smile spreading across your lips. you clicked on the message, your manicured fingers typing messages upon messages of how much you missed him, and couldn’t wait to see him.

it had been almost a month since you last saw eren. after your sexcapdes on his tour bus eren had invited you to join him on his pj to the next city, and you had no other choice but to say yes! that dick was entirely too good to pass up.

you can happily say you’ve now joined the mile high club, because the second you got on the jet eren demanded privacy so he could indulge in you once more. you were sure jean and his security team could hear your screams of pleasure, the way you begged for eren to fuck you harder, deeper, but you didn’t care in the slightest.

after turning his bones into mush from your ridiculous riding skills, eren returned the favor by fucking you in mating press until your eyes crossed, and drool was slipping past your puffy lips.

your night in his hotel went the exact same way. eren folded you into every position he could while you chanted his name like a prayer, soaking the hotel sheets with your essence. he liked you. he liked the way you had just as much stamina as him. he liked that you were just as nasty as him, like how you stuck your tongue out for him to spit on, or how you begged him to put you in a chokehold while he hit it from the back.

what he really liked about you though, was the way you looked at him. eren already a sort of god complex, and you definitely didn’t help the way you looked at him as if he created the moon and stars.

after a very tearful goodbye on your end you headed back to your city, but that didn’t stop you from texting everyday. sometimes he replied, sometimes he didn’t because of his busy schedule. he always did call you though, usually it’d be past midnight but that didn’t matter to you—especially when he’d always say bye to you by tapping his tip against the screen, muttering a sultry ‘we miss you.’

new message from renny ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

i miss u too mama.

send your addy, i’m coming to you.

you squealed into the soft cotton of your sheets, your sock covered feet kicking wildly against your mattress. thee eren yeager was about to come to your lil ol’ apartment, like this couldn’t be real.

you carefully typed out your address, your toes wiggling in excitement. you shut your laptop and rolled out of bed, quickly shuffling your feet to your closet.

you figured he’d have you out of your clothes minutes after he got here, so you settled on ditching your pajamas, and wearing just your pink robe.

message sent to renny ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

are u gonna do all that stuff you said in your messages?

you pupils dilated when the gray bubble popped up, your teeth clamping onto your bottom lip. eren texted you a lot of dirty promises, making you squirt on his dick in the prone bone position being the one you were most excited for.

whenever you were bored at work, or before you fell asleep at night, you’d imagine him having you in a tight chokehold while he fucked into your sore pussy from behind. that usually led to you sending eren explicit videos of your rubbing your pulsing pussy desperately, whining n’ babbling about how you wish it were him making you cum instead.

eren would only make it worse by feeding into it. while he recorded himself stroking his cock, he’d be growling out filthy praises about your cute cunt and how good she’d feel wrapped around him.

new message from renny ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

you’ll see

[attachment: 1 imagine]

just know i’m ready, been thinking about your pretty pussy all day.

a whine bubbled in your chest as you zoomed in on live photo of his very prominent print. his tatted hand was gripping onto it, and if you clicked on it, the live photo would show him squeezing it softly. the cuban chain on his wrist glistened obnoxiously from the flash—you couldn’t wait to the feel the cold metal against your neck when he choked you.

you loosened the knot on your robe, exposing your breasts more than they already were. your nipples were peeking out, giving eren just the perfect peek to what is to come.

message sent to renny ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

hurry up :((

[attachment: 1 image]

while you were giggling to yourself, eren was gripping his phone in frustration. he needed you, now. ever since he last saw you all he could think about was you. your face, your scent, your voice, your pretty moans. he was totally smitten.

“we’ll be arriving shortly,” the driver said in a monotone voice. eren hummed, unlocking his phone to tell you he was almost there.

he was thankful you didn’t leave in the city, the last thing he would want are fans or paparazzi invading your privacy. but it was california after all, and unfortunately there were rumors he was seen at a hotel with a mystery girl, but he made sure his team squashed those rumors from circulating any further. fame can be intense, he’d be crushed if his lifestyle scared you away.

“m’not sure how long i’ll be here so, uh, just tell jean i said don’t wait up,” eren’s tone was cool as he spoke, but inside he was actually excited to see you. he pulled his hoodie up, scoping the scene before stepping out of the car. as eren walked towards your apartment building he heard—

‘psst! up here!’

he slowly looked up and there you were, standing on your balcony, wearing nothing but a robe and a pair of slippers. your hair gently moved with the light breeze, and you had the giddiest smile on your lips—this shit felt like it was a scene out of movie.

you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited for eren to make it to your door, and finally you heard three knocks. you couldn’t deny that you were nervous—he was a celebrity after all. someone who was known globally and loved by many, he was just a very intimidating guy.

the second you opened the door, you were yanking him in by his hoodie, your chests clashing together. “damn girl, miss me?” eren grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist. you bit your lip, looking at him with nothing but swirls of love and lust in your eyes. “yeah, i did.” eren nudged his nose against yours, blindly kicking the door shut behind him and locking it.

when he heard the click! his lips were on yours, a strong scent of vanilla and jasmine hitting his nose. “w-was the flight here okay? you look tired,” your hands cupped his jaw as you examined the under his eyes. you way you looked at him and touched with such care, as if it were natural, had eren feeling things. weird things. he always told others he’d probably never fall for a fan yet here he was, leaning into your touch like a lovesick puppy.

“yeah it was fine. just been a busy week is all, but don’t worry about that. it’s good to see you. you look good. i look this robe on you.”

when he smiled you saw flashes on gold on his teeth, and that had a gush of wetness dripping from your pussy. “thanks . . . i like your grills. like a lot.” eren breathed heavily through his nose when your thumb ran over his bottom lip, getting a closer look at the grills.

you whined when his lips smushed into yours again, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. you parted your lips, and he wasted no time slithering his tongue into your mouth, groaning when your tongue swiped across his grills. “take this shit off,” eren’s fingers fumbled with the strings on your robe, slowly pushing it off your shoulders when the knot was undone.

you puffed your naked chest out, giggling because you had left eren utterly speechless. he stepped closer to you, and then closer, and closer until you were backed up against the wall. “i’d try to keep my legs steady if i were you,” his breath was hot on your neck, sending shivers up your spine.

your hands pushed against his hard chest when his hand pushed between your thighs, his ring and middle finger dipping between your folds. “y’know i had to postpone so much shit because i just couldn’t go another day without seein’ you? doesn’t that sound insane? we barely know each other, yet i just can’t get you or this pretty pussy outta my head.”

your lips trembled, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers rolled around you swollen clit. “g-good. i did what i was supposed to do when we fucked then,” your words had eren groaning, his head dipping into your neck to kiss and suck at the sweet smelling skin. he kissed his way down your neck, and eventually your chest, taking his time as he rolled his tongue around each nipple.

he kissed the skin above your naval, smirking at the hello kitty jewelry pierced into the skin. “such a pretty girl, knew you were special the second i saw you in the crowd,” and it was true! out of all the fans that were in the audience, you caught his attention the most. the cheered the loudest, knew the words to every song, and you looked damn good sharing a blunt with your friends as you sung along to his songs.

your back slumped against the wall when you felt his hot tongue circle your clit, his hands snaking behind you to grab at your ass cheeks. every slurp and suck had your legs shaking, so much so that eren just said fuck it and threw your knees over his shoulders.

he was a sloppy eater. his tongue switched from french kissing your clit, to fucking into your clenching hole, all while moaning drunkenly against your pussy. you weren’t scared to rough him up either, your hands tangling themselves in his hair and fucking his mouth. “m’so close renny.”

that only encouraged eren to increase his assault on your clit, flicking the bud back and forth until your thighs were clamping around his head. wave after wave of your cum coated his tongue, and eren happily lapped up all of it. god, you were fucking sweet.

you gasped when eren lifted you off his shoulders, “w-wait stay close to me.” eren nearly lost his balance when you jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around his slim waist. out of instinct eren cupped your behind, holding you closely to him. “i wasn’t goin’ nowhere mama, now where’s yours bedroom?”

you gave eren directions to your bedroom, all while you were kissing his neck and jaw. “it’s cute in here. it’s really . . . pink,” eren chuckled as he looked around your room. what caught his attention the most was the mountain of plushies on your bed, all varying from sanrio characters to anime characters.

he laid you down gently on your bed, smirking at the pout on your glossy lips. “thank you. now drop your pants m’hungry,” your pink, freshly pedicured foot pressed down on the bulge in his sweats, then pushed against his abdomen. eren lifted your foot up and kissed your ankle, “whatever you want baby.”

eren shed his hoodie and sweats, leaving him in a white wife beater and briefs. you eyed the small, wet patch stained into his briefs, your mouth watering at what was hiding underneath. you sat up, your arm hooking around his thick thigh to pull him closer. eren’s head tilted back when you mouthed at the print in his briefs, your tongue lolling out to lick at the wet patch.

your teeth clamped onto the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down until they were mid thigh. eren’s jaw dropped the tiniest bit when you nuzzled your face into his cock, your tongue peeking out to lick at the base. “c’mon. open that pretty mouth,” his tongue ran over the gold on his teeth as he watched you like a predator stalking its prey.

your mouth parted once more, sucking the tip of his cock in your mouth. you hummed around the muscle, your mouth watering at the salty, yet very sweet taste of him.

“let me fuck your mouth, pretty girl. open up,” you whimpered around eren’s dick as he pushed more into your mouth, strings of saliva dripping from your lips and onto your thighs. your tongue rubbed over the protruding veins on the underside, this earned you a pat on the head, followed by eren cradling your jaw. his thumb ran over the bulge in your cheek, “you’re so pretty.”

you took more of his cock into your mouth until your nose nudged against soft tufts of hair. suddenly you felt a hand squeeze at your throat, the action had you choking around his cock, fat tears now running down your cheeks. “ooou shit, that was tight. do it again for me, baby.” he squeezed at your throat ever so softly as he fucked it, his head tilting back out of pure pleasure. seriously, where have you been all his life.

your cheeks hollowed around his dick, sucking harshly until he had to pull you away by your hair, a thin line of spit still connected to your lips. “mmph, hang your head off the bed. you know what to do.”

indeed you did. after a night of dirty texting you found out that eren was quite fond of throat fucking—especially if a girls head was hanging off the side while he did it. there was something about hearing those violent gags and chokes that had his balls tightening every time he thought about it.

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, even though you’ll just get messy literally all over again, and laid down on your back, your head hanging slightly off the side. eren took this opportunity to grasp at your tits, flicking your pretty brown nipples with his thumbs. the cool metal from his rings had them hardening in seconds.

“mm so pretty, now open up gorgeous,” eren tapped his tip against your lips, chuckling when you stuck your tongue out to get the exact same treatment. he rubbed the tip of his cock over the curves of your lips, before running it over your tongue. you greedily swallowed the pre that dribbled onto your tongue.

without warning, eren thrust his hips forward, sheathing more than half his cock down your tight throat. hot tears already began to brim at your lash line as he began a steady pace, the obnoxious noise of you gagging echoing throughout your room. “mmph, good lil fuckin’ throat. you’re fuckin’ perfect y/n ‪‪❤︎‬” eren’s head tilted back in a moan, his adams apple bobbing.

he preferred his head very sloppy, and you were perfect for that. you didn’t mind the spit bubbles that foamed up at the corners of your lips, or the snot that trickled from your nose. you were fine with all of it. all just to please him. his hips stuttered when your hand reached up to toy with his balls. “fu-ck yeah, play wit’ ‘em while you suck it. that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

his praise had your heart fluttering, and your pussy drooling with need. you were perfect for him. that’s all you could’ve asked for.

your nails dug into eren’s muscly thighs when his hips pushed forward, forcing the entirety of his cock down your throat. you suddenly felt something warm in the back of your throat, and hummed. it wasn’t until you were choking pretty hard that eren pulled out, his half had cock resting on your face. your thighs clenched together when the musky scent that was him wafted into your nose.

“heh, cute. you ready for me to fuck you now mama?”

your tongue ran along his cock, savoring the taste of him, “i love your dick ren, could stay here forever.” eren’s head tilted back as you sloppily kissed all over the base of his cock. he was fully hard once again in no time, the veins on the underside thrumming against your puffy lips.

he backed up to give you some room to get up, only for you to yank him back again. you propped your chin on his hard stomach, batting your freshly done lashes up at him. “what position you want me in renny, m’all yours please tell me what to do.”

there was that look again. that fucking look. that look where you stared at him like he was reason for your very existence. “i’ll do anything you want,” you murmured, pressing little kisses all across his abdomen. you whimpered when eren used both hands to grip your jaw, forcing your gaze at him.

“i think i might love you.”

he didn’t know what kinda fucked up shit this was but he didn’t even care, he loved it. he loved . . . you ❤︎

his pretty lil fan girl. his number one fan. someone that would kiss the ground he walked on if he asked. you were perfect.

“that’s really sweet renny, but i think you’re just high and tired,” you giggled, teeth clamping onto your bottom lip. “you sayin’ you don’t love me back baby?” eren grinned, moving one of his hands to your throat, squeezing rather roughly. he needed to hear you say it, even if you didn’t mean it.

“of course i love you ren. loved you since you first debuted, i knew i had to get my hands on you. now look at you; in my very pink room, telling me you love me because im the best you’ve ever had.”

he couldn’t even object or give snarky remark back because unfortunately you were right.

his hands moved to your shoulders, gently pushing you back.

“i may be high, and i may be a little tired, but i do know that i really like you.” his teeth nibbled on his bottom lip as his hands wandered across your naked body.

“well good. i don’t ever wanna see anything about you and other girls in the blogs again or i’ll block you ‘kay?” eren was laughing until you interrupted him saying a monotone ‘i mean it.’

he leant over you, his chain dangling over your face. his thick brows were pulled together, and if you looked close enough you could see the pout on his lips. of course he’d only see you, but the thought of getting blocked by you had his heart tightening. “i only want you to myself from now on, can you handle that superstar?”

eren gasped when your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you. his dick sat right between your sopping folds, the tip nudging deliciously against your clit.

“fuck, yes. yes i can handle it, i can’t handle being blocked by you though. best fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever had y/n ❤︎. don’t break my heart like that,” he rocked his hips slowly, coating his cock in your essence. you had him right in the palm of your hand and god, it felt so good. “don’t make me write some corny love songs about you, because i will.”

“would that really be so bad? i wouldn’t mind having a song written about me.”

“i’ll write one for you anyway, i’ll write ten fucking songs about you and this pussy, shit,” eren’s nostrils flared the tip of his cock accidentally slid into your pussy. he couldn’t help but just bottom out completely, his balls sitting snuggly against your ass.

your mouth parted, a breathy moan slipping past your lips. “mm, do it. i dare you renny.” eren just moaned in response, his eyes fluttering shut. heaven. this was heaven.

“i will baby, i will. i pr-promise.”

each time he pulled out a loud squelch followed. you sucked the cross attached to his chain in your mouth, whimpering around the cool metal. eren settled for fast, deep thrusts, the angry tip of his cock bumping harshly into that spongy spot deep inside you. “so fuckin’ hot. you’re so fuckin’ hot,” eren was damn near panting like a dog, his tongue dangerously close to dangling out of his mouth.

your body moved up slightly with each hard thrust, your breasts bouncing wildly in his face. the sharp canine part of eren’s grill grazed your nipple, his hot tongue coming out a second later to soothe the sting. “you smell so good, y-you’re so good.” embarrassingly enough eren’s thrusts were already getting sloppy. he was close.

“are you about to cum? hm? gonna nut in my pussy ren?” all eren could do would moan, his face nuzzling itself into the crook of your neck. you sobbed out eren’s name when he pushed your knees up, the angle of his thrusts reaching deeper inside you. he licked his thumb, bringing the digit to your swollen clit.

“c’mon baby, make that pussy cum. wanna feel that shit.” your legs shook violently as you second orgasm of the night hit you. eren fucked you through it, growling out curses each time a steam of your cum hit his lower stomach. his cock slipped out ad second later ribbons of cum were painting your tummy in thick, white strands.

eren’s head fell forwards, wispy strands from his disheveled half up, half down bun tickling his forehead. “shit, m’still hard girl. you’re gonna kill me,” eren’s hands cupped your face, smushing his lips against yours in a clash of tongue and teeth.

he pulled out briefly to turn you around on your tummy. “i’m gonna borrow one of those real quick,” he murmured, tatted hand reaching above you to grab one of your many plushies. he arched your back, placing the plushie underneath the pudge of your stomach. “comfortable mama?” his nose nudged against your cheek, his lashes tickling you.

“yeah . . . put it in.” eren tapped the tip of his cock against your clit before slipping in, groaning at the warmth that welcomed him. he yanked your hair back, exposing your neck. “o-ohhh fuck,” your eyes rolled into the back of your skull when eren’s bicep hooked around your neck, putting you in the perfect chokehold. not too tight, but not too lose either. his strokes were slow, but deep, allowing you to feel every vein and ridge on his dick against your sensitive walls.

“this what you wanted the most right? always talkin’ about my muscles, you satisfied now baby?” all you could do was moan pathetically, nodding your head rapidly. “you’re g’nna make me cum again renny, y-you’re gonna make me cum!” your feet kicked wildly against the bed, tears free falling from your cheeks and onto your sheets.

eren grunted, tightening his hold on your neck, “do it.” your body thrashed beneath him, shaking violently as your orgasm hit you in intense waves. the soft cotton of your sheets was basically rubbing your clit raw, adding way more overstimulation than you needed.

eren’s thrusts were relentless, his pace never once faltering as you came. he pressed his hips snuggly against your ass, rolling his hips until you were clawing at the sheets. “keep fucking me l-like that, god yes!” eren groaned, pulling his hips all the way back before slamming back in.

“thas’ right baby, m’your god. your everything,” his teeth nibbled at your ear, licking over the shell of. ugh yes he was your everything :(( you loved him, you adored him, you were his biggest fan. you’d do anything for him if it meant you got fucked like this on a regular.

“hah! ah! ah! o-oh shittt,” you sobbed out, tears soaking your chubby cheeks. eren cursed under his breath when his dick slipped out, a stream of your cum following seconds after. you clawed at the sheets, trying to get out of his grip, but eren kept you steady, shushing your whines with kisses.

“no more renny,” you whimpered, your face nuzzling into the crook of his bicep. “ngh, you don’t mean that baby,” he cooed at you, pressing a kiss to the side of your face.

eren laid on his side, pulling you close to his chest. his heart was beating so fast, it felt like he was high. this must be what people call being ‘pussydrunk’ because he swears if he was asked to speak a full sentence he’d fail.

he lifted your thigh up, slipping his cock between your folds. your body quivered, arching against his chest. “you wanna be my girlfriend? c’mon i know you wanna say yes, just say it,” you didn’t even have time to process his words before his tip was slowly sliding in. the question must’ve been good right? you’ll just say yes.

you squeaked out a yes! when he bottomed out, your backside pushing against his pelvis. he couldn’t believe you actually said yes, he couldn’t believe he actually even asked you that. what were you doing to this poor man?

eren hiked your thigh up, starting up a fallow n’ shallow pace. his lips crashed into yours, moaning into your mouth with a scrunched up face. “we’ll figure somethin’ out, you just—just gotta be mine.”

“i will renny—hah! all i’ve ever wanted is to be yours.” your thighs clamped around eren’s wrist when you felt his fingers strum against your clit. most people would look at you like you were nuts for even accepting such an offer, but they wouldn’t understand. you’ve loved eren and his craft since he first debuted six years ago. his music got through some of the hardest times of your life and for that you were eternally grateful to him—so yes, you’ll worship the ground he walks on and love him like no other.

his free hand shimmied underneath your back, wrapping around your waist. god he was so fucking close. he needed you as close as possible.

“cum with me mama. i’m about to nut, c’mon take it, take it, take ittt,” his hips pushed up against your backside one last time, emptying his balls inside you for what won’t be the last time tonight. he just needed a breather.

your body thrashed against his as you came with a scream. eren covered your mouth, whispering filthy praises in your ear as you rode our your high. he stayed snugly inside you, caressing your stomach with light touches.

it was silent for ten minutes as you both caught your breath, eren not once loosening his grip on you, he didn’t even pull out when you turned around to face him.

“you meant what you said right? about me being your girlfriend?” eren cracked an eye open and was met with your brown ones staring right back at him. was he sure about this? i mean the man didn’t even really know you like that but . . . fuck it, why not. he shrugged, brushing his hair out of his face. “yeah, as long as we keep it on the dl for now. i got a lot—”

“that won’t work.”

eren’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean that won’t work? you’re not in charge here at the end of the day.”

two days later . . .

‘breaking news! well known musician eren yeager was recently seen out shopping in beverly hills with what looks like a new boo! my, my look at all those shopping bags, seems like this girl has got our boy whipped! we believe this is the same girl he was seen with, about a month ago, heading into a hotel in chicago. fans are buzzing like crazy trying to find out who this mystery girl is! it seems to be she has no social media, but never fear my sources are working day and night to find out who she is! until then this is . . .’

jean shut off the tv, pure anger radiating off of him. “you wanna tell me what that’s all about? who the fuck even is this girl—”

“i’m his girlfriend,” you came from around the corner, wearing nothing but one of eren’s shirts. you approached eren from behind, where he was sitting on the couch, a bored look on his face as usual. he visibly relaxed when he felt your hands massage his shoulders. “yeah, she’s right. as of two days ago we’re official.” eren turned his head to press a kiss to the top of your hand.

“eren, you still have the international leg of your tour to do! there’s no way you can focus on that with a distraction—” eren let out a long sigh, his head flopping against the back of the couch. “jean, you’re really not talking about shit i wanna hear right now.” he just wanted to spend time with you, granted you both had been holed up in his hotel room for two days, besides the random shopping trip you just had to go on.

you weren’t a fan of keep your relationship a secret, hence why you made him take your ass the most expensive strip mall you could find. you’d never shopped in a luxury store that was completely empty until eren made his security clear the area so you two could shop in peace. he had so much power over people, it turned you on a lot.

“she’s not gonna be a distraction. she’s gonna come on tour with me, and keep me company. i’d ask if was a problem, but i really don’t give a shit. i pay you entirely too much for you to be bitching at me like that.”

jean’s mouth parted, but no words came out. it wasn’t uncommon for eren to talk to him like that, but it was certainly new to have an audience watching.

you combed your fingers through eren’s hair, frowning at the annoyed look on his face. “is there anything else you wanna discuss?” eren’s ring clad finger tapped against the couch impatiently. jean looked at eren, then you, then back to eren, and back to you. “ah, no. i guess that’ll be all eren.”

“i need you to schedule me a session at the studio, m’workin’ on a new song,” eren called out just as jean was about to shut the door. “dumbass better have heard me.”

he looked up at you through his lashes, “i know i sound a little harsh, but if you’re not an asshole to that guy he’ll run you over. only reason he still has a job is because he’s damn good at it.”

you shrugged, making your way around the couch to sit on eren’s lap. you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t care about none of that. now tell me about this song you’re writing! what’s it about?”

“i think you know what it’s about, mama.”

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (02)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content sexual jokes, rafe being a tease !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 01 ¡ 02 ¡ 03

yourusername

liked by sarahcameron, rafecameron and 1,129 others

yourusername me and gf on a mermaids date  🧜‍♀️ 

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sarahcameron GF 🙈🙈🙈 most beautiful girl ive ever seen ↳ yourusername BABYYY ily

sarahcameron do you want to be my wife ↳ johnroutledge Uhm ↳ yourusername leave little boy she doesnt want you 🧏‍♀️

sarahcameron cant believe we met its been SO long ↳ yourusername still in shock could you kiss me to make sure this is real?  ↳ sarahcameron come to mama 💋 

ryanontop God your ugly ↳ yourusername you’re*… spell right you illiterate fuck ↳ ryanontop Fuck off it was a typo ↳ yourusername you know damn well!!!!

cleoanderson WAIT WHAT

kiecarrera ??? HUH

kiecarrera IM SO CONFUSED ↳ cleoanderson ME TOO ☹️ ↳ sarahcameron hey 👋  ↳ cleoanderson girl you both got some explaining to do ↳ yourusername trust me i was as shocked as you are 😓

popeheyward Insane ↳ yourusername PIPE down fella (get it ahahaha) ↳ popeheyward That wasn't funny ↳ cleoanderson be nice to my girl >:( ↳ popeheyward Baby you're supposed to defend me ↳ yourusername YEAHHH CLOCK THAT HO

jjmaybanks whats for supper  ↳ yourusername saltwater

user1 PRETTY!!!! 

user2 so lovely 🥹

user3 DRESS ATE DOWN ↳ yourusername YEAHH tryna impress the hoes ↳ ryanontop Crickets ↳ sarahcameron not cool Ryan. ↳ ryanontop Sorry Sarah Cameron.

rafecameron Hey 👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼 ↳ yourusername uhhh uhmm  ↳ rafecameron ??? What ↳ sarahcameron what are you doing here ↳ yourusername yeah get out of my comment section ↳ rafecameron I’m not even doing anything 

rafecameron Sarah looks like a duck  ↳ yourusername shes my little duckling 🐥  ↳ rafecameron Oh I didn't mean that in a cute way ↳ sarahcameron hey >:( ↳ yourusername insult my gf one more time and ill fuck you UP ↳ rafecameron Oh?  ↳ ryanontop Uhh  ↳ rafecameron Yo wsg baby ↳ yourusername flirt somewhere else please dont start sexting in my comment section ↳ rafecameron Awe man :( but it's way more fun in public ↳ yourusername pardon me! there's children in my comments, please refrain from having sex here ↳ rafecameron You're the one talking about sexting, not me...

Involving yourself with Rafe Cameron, whom you later found out was good friends with your brother, was definitely not a part of your plan. 

Spending the next two months with him meant coming to terms with your actions, perhaps take responsibility for the mess you created out of this situation. Had you further dug into his information, paid attention to the last name splattered across your screen, you would not have ended up in the bathroom, contemplating whether going downstairs was a good idea. 

Avoiding him could be an option right now, but you knew you'd have to face him one day, whether it was today, or another. And while he stayed oblivious to the incident, you couldn’t help the embarrassment that flushed your face everytime his eyes would lock with yours.

You somehow spent the afternoon together, his lingering gazes leaving you a nervous mess every time his eyes fell on you. He’d stare at you for a few seconds, letting tension heave through the air, almost as if it was the most casual thing ever, as if he’s not your brother’s best friend, someone so off limits, forbidden to the touch. 

Besides that, it was nice, you got to spend more time with Sarah, catch up with the girl and everything you missed out on in the past few hours she was gone. It distracted you from your embarrassment, eternally grateful, because you don’t think you’ll be capable of spending another minute within Rafe’s presence without exploding. 

Taking a deep breath, you mustered up the courage to head downstairs, taking each step with haste. Sarah perked up when the hardwood creaked underneath you, causing you to come to a halt. Sarah called out your name, addressing you with the hand she waved in your direction, her excitement instantly replacing the frown spread across your face with a smile. 

“What took you so long?” Her lips jut into a pout, tucking her hair behind her ear. She welcomed you with open arms, chuckling when you accepted the embrace with a content hum “You know, I missed you.” 

“You were jus’ talking to me.” You muffled out, relaxing as the blonde rocked your bodies back and forth. 

“It’s not the same!” She exclaimed, pulling away for a moment. “It’s not everyday I get to see you in real life.” 

Ryan cleared his throat, in an attempt to earn yours and Sarah’s attention. To his satisfaction, he did, causing your gaze to shift back to the latter, instantly detecting the disgusted expression he had splattered across his face. 

“Can you save this for later, and please help me out?” Ryan questioned, making you roll your eyes. “You think I called you down so you could be all over each other?” 

“Shut up.” Sarah stuck out her tongue, teasing the latter from where she stood. 

You scrunched your nose, tensing when you sensed Rafe’s burning glare from the corner of your eyes. The boy’s glances were intense, almost as if he was staring at you for the purpose of undressing you with his gaze, and that, yeah, it never failed to knock a breath out of your chest, creating a flustered mess out of you. 

Sarah returned to her old position, standing behind the counter with you following in her steps, striving to see what they were up to. Your lips formed into an ‘o’ shape, peaking with interest when you noticed the deviled eggs Ryan was plating.

“That looks good,” you hummed, turning in Ryan’s direction, who conceitedly nodded, proud of the dish they had displayed on the counter. “Don’t people usually make these for thanksgiving, though?”

“That’s what I said!” Sarah agreed, giggling when Ryan grumbled, disapproving of your statement. 

“You’re acting like you’re not gonna eat them!” He elbowed your side, acknowledging you with his chin when you hissed, faking a pained expression. “Stop complaining and grab more plates, we need them for the mash potatoes.” 

“The only thing missing is the turkey, at this point.” You scoffed, mumbling to yourself, though Ryan could still hear you. “Where’s the plates?” 

“Uhh,” Sarah started, observing the cabinets behind you. She pointed to one of them with her finger, your eyes instantly following where her digit landed. “You can find some in there.”

With a nod, you shuffled to approach the stacked cabinets, aiming for the one Sarah was referring to. A groan instantly escaped your throat, gaze trailing up to the plates positioned on the top shelf. 

“Why on earth are these cabinets so high?” You whined, standing on your tippy toes to grab the dishes, merely to end up with nothing in your grasp. “And why are you putting plates on the top shelf?! None of you could reach them!” 

You extended your arm once again, stretching out your body in an attempt to seize the plates, losing your balance when you maintained the same position for a little too long, eventually failing to achieve what you were aiming for. 

Ryan mumbled a few words of complaints, rushing you to grab the plates faster, though he noticed that you were struggling, not offering to step in and help you. You paused for a second, calculating how you were going to capture the plates without asking for help, as that was a no in your watch. 

Right, you could use a chair, and although that was quite the embarrassment, it was the only option you had, even if it meant making a fool out of yourself. 

“Here, lemme try.” 

You tensed where you stood, breath hitching when Rafe shuffled behind you, his broad chest colliding against your back. Your vision blurred as you inhaled his scent, his musky cologne intoxicating your senses. 

Your gaze trailed up his arm, where it hovered over your shoulder, the brief contact sending goosebumps down your spine. And if you weren’t aware before, you definitely are now, enjoying the sight of him towering over you a little too much for your liking. 

The latter grunted as he reached for the plates, capturing them with a little difficulty. The sound instantly echoed through your ears, blinding you whole, that you had no right being this into it. Your mind wandered with thoughts you shouldn’t even ponder about, not as the boy was innocently stepping in to help, when your own brother couldn’t. 

“There you go.” Rafe muttered, voice barely above a whisper. He placed the plates on the counter in front of you, moving to catch sight of your reaction, chuckling when he noticed how flustered you were, mouth slightly parting with an exhale. “Did I startle you? Sorry, I was jus’ tryin’ to help.” 

“Right,” you said through a breath, blinking far too many times for your liking. “Thank you, I– that was really nice.” 

“Mhm.” He leaned his arm over the counter, admiring you with a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He stood still for a moment, almost as if he was seeking something out of you, perchance a reply, if that was even appropriate in this situation.

“What?” You asked, cluelessly staring back at him, fingers clutching the plates you had in hand. 

“Could you hurry up!” Ryan interrupted, causing you to jolt from where you stood, leaving Rafe hanging as you headed in your brother’s direction. “The food’s about to run cold.”

“You could’ve helped me grab them, dickhead.” You scoffed, failing to keep your eyes to yourself as you stole a glance in Rafe’s direction, breath catching in your throat when you spotted him yet staring at you, with the same mischievous smile he had from earlier. 

He’s only helping, you’re acting like this because it caught you off guard, right? Fuck, you were totally screwed, how were you supposed to act normal when Rafe was behaving like a gentleman, doing everything in his power to make you comfortable, whether it’s him helping you grab the plates, or him offering you a drink with the scorching hot sun. 

Either way, this was bad, for your mental being, and the boundaries you created for yourself. It’s only been a day, what will happen in the next few weeks you’re spending with him? You don’t know, but what you do know is that they’ll be hell, tortuous, even.

Sarah passed you the pot of mash, politely asking you to plate it, making it hard for you to refuse the request. You did as told, doing it as neatly as physically possible, with Ryan nagging over your head, telling you to be more cautious in the process. 

You managed to get what you were asked for done, with the boy pestering you nonstop throughout it, creating a frustrated mess out of you. Rafe offered a helping hand, arranging the plates on the table, for each person they were serving. 

The elders came through the front door, having been gone for most of the time they’ve been here, excusing themselves for what you assumed was a business meeting. You embraced your mom in a hug, presenting the food to her with your free arm, snickering when she squealed, taken aback by all the food displayed on the table. 

Dinner was chaotic, filled with chatter and giggles as everyone bonded over the food, getting to catch up with each other. Ward was quite the man, and while you did dislike him, witnessing all the times he was harsh to Sarah, you couldn’t dodge his curious questions, not when everyone surrounding you thought of you as angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. 

You kept to yourself for most of the time, amused by Sarah and Ryan arguing over who cooked each dish, fighting to claim their credit. And as for Rafe, well, he was there, sitting besides Ryan, who was across from you.

“You’re oddly quiet, Bug.” Sarah suddenly started, talking over the elders, who were chatting about business. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh, yeah!” You nodded, flashing her an endearing smile, one Sarah contently returned. 

“It’s only ‘cause there’s people around,” Ryan clicked his teeth, having heard the conversation. “Trust, she’s such a brat, don’t encourage her to keep talking, otherwise, she’ll never shut up.” 

“Can you not?” You muffled through gritted teeth, kicking his foot from underneath the table. “Could you also move? You’re all up in my space.” 

“That’s uh,” Rafe choked out, taking a sip off of the glass of water splattered across his side of the table. “That’s my leg.” 

You froze your spot, eyes widening with shock when you peaked under the table, discerning that it was Rafe’s leg you were kicking, Ryan’s far back positioned inches away from his chair. Sarah mimicked your action, chuckling when she caught sight of the ridiculous sight, entertained by the situation. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, eyebrows furrowing with concern. “I thought you were Ryan.��

“It’s okay.” He dismisses, flashing you a gentle smile. “Sorry for ruining your uh– plans.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” Ryan jutted his lips into a pout, turning to glimpse at Rafe, whose face filled with concern. “You’re supposed to defend me. Why are you taking her side?” 

“Mhm,” Rafe hummed, going along with the bit. His fingers found the curve of Ryan’s jaw, cupping his face in a teasing manner. “Did I hurt your feelings? I’m sorry, I’ll be more cautious next time. Do you want a kiss, sweetheart?” 

Ryan nodded, nuzzling into the latter’s hand, letting his eyes fall shut when Rafe leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to his forehead. The mere sight made you sick to your stomach, with Sarah just as cringed out as you were, grumbling with detest.

Looks like you had some competition. 

“Can you not?” Sarah huffed, “We’re eating.” 

“She doesn’t get it.” Ryan shook his head with disappointment, withdrawing from the touch. Rafe agreed by nodding, patting Ryan’s shoulder before he got back to eating, acting as if that was the normalest thing they’ve done over dinner. 

Fancy plating was all fun and games until you had to do the dishes, and with the little work you did tonight, it did not look good on your watch. Ryan excused himself out of the list, with Sarah following behind, informing you that they made dinner, meaning it was your turn to do the dishes. 

Which, truth be told was fair, you totally understood where they were coming from, because if that was you, you would’ve done the same thing. 

“I’ll help out.” Rafe joined in, the suggestion creating a nervous mess out of you. 

That’s how you ended up in front of the sink, watching as plates piled up with every dish Rafe brought, instantly joining your side after he tidied up the table, wiping it clean to ensure a disinfected setting. 

Your contained giggles seeped through the silence, observing as Rafe clumsily scrubbed a plate, stumbling as it almost slipped from his hands. A sigh of relief escaped his parted lips, tightening his hold around it before it could further slither through his fingers. 

“You don’t need to do it.” You uttered, catching Rafe’s attention, who turned to face you with a smug grin spread across his lips, oblivious to the teasing smile you flashed him.

“Why?” He curled one of his eyebrows with confusion, scrubbing the plate with all his might, though it was past its limit. “Do you not want my help?”

“It’s not that,” you playfully rolled your eyes, rinsing off the excess soap. “It just looks like you’re struggling.” 

“‘That so?” He shot back, mimicking your action, copying your each move to make sure he’s doing it right. 

“Mhm.” You mused, letting silence linger through the air, atmosphere heaving with tension. 

“You know,” Rafe started, eyes glued to his gloved hands. “You’re different over text.” 

You almost drop the plate in your hand, caught off guard by the latter’s statement. Rafe maintained a blank expression, continuing what he was doing while you tensed in your spot, too dumbfounded to move, or respond. 

“I–” you stammered, abandoning the dishes piled in the sink, and focusing your whole attention on Rafe. “Why are you bringing that up?” 

“Should I not?” He questioned, stealing a swift glance in your direction as he cocked his head to the side, intrigued by how the conversation was flowing. “I mean, you did text me this morning, am I supposed to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“You said it yourself,” you started, suddenly feeling your throat go dry. “Ryan’s my brother, it would be best if we didn’t discuss this.” 

“Why not?” He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not like we’re doin’ anythin’ weird, y’know? I mean, you did leave an impression on me.”

“impression?” You repeated, jeered by his words as your mouth moved faster than your brain. “Did you know we’d be meeting here?” 

“Well,” he replied, rinsing off the soapy dishes. “I can’t say I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” You whispered, afraid others would overhear your conversation. “Had you told me, I wouldn’t have continued speaking to you. Do you know how awkward things are now that you’re here?” 

“Why?” Rafe hushed out, pausing for a second, before he turned to face you, now leveling his face with your own. “Am I making you nervous?” 

Your throat ran dry, taken aback by the question. Was he flirting with you? And if not, why did it have such a big effect on you? Tolling you with temptation in ways you knew were impossible, out of reach, even. 

“What?” You uttered through a breath, face flushing with heat. “No– no it’s just–”

“I’m just messing.” He snickered, amused by how flustered you grew, stuttering to mutter a coherent statement out. 

“That wasn’t funny.” You grumbled out, fluttering your eyes at the latter, visibly embarrassed by the reaction the boy received from you. 

“Right.” He chuckled, not sounding convinced at all. 

The next few minutes filled with tension, as you both fell quiet, letting silence heave the air. Rafe didn’t seem as affected as you were, maintaining a blank expression the whole time you were a mess, too embarrassed to be in the boy’s presence, who seemed oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere he had created. 

You instantly excused yourself to your room afterwards, telling the boy you were sleepy, though it was too early for bed. You needed a moment to yourself, even if it meant lying through your teeth.

Besides, you weren’t the only one who was gone, as Sarah was nowhere in sight, disappearing once you were done. She was probably talking to her boyfriend, hence you know how clingy they were with each other. 

You took a quick shower, freshening up before bed, immediately followed with your skin care routine, playing soft music in the background while you did so. You dressed yourself in comfortable pajamas, instantly slipping under your covers, letting the warmness engulf your body whole. 

Your eyes droswed with sleep, after a few hours of scrolling through your phone, not noticing the time, only acknowledging how late it was when you received a notification that earned your attention. Your breath almost hitched as you opened the DM, caught off guard by who it was from. 

It was Rafe.

a/n THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON THIS WTH!! i wasnt expectingt it ily mwahh!! & just a little fyi this story will have more irl parts, it wont be solely sm based as i alr have stated in the beginning! it will definitely have social media, but im not abandoning the irl part of it yk 😣 that being said, feel free to lmk if you want to be removed/added to the taglist :) (in order to stay on it, you need to interact with the posts)

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy

[luveline]

hii jade are u going to write something about hotchner!reader and spencer any soon?

—You panic when Spencer’s late for a date. He makes it up to you as best as he can. fem, 2.6k

cw implied past child abuse

You weren’t young when you were adopted, so you were instilled very quickly with the need to be grateful. How lucky you were to be given a second chance at a family. How you owed it to your new family to be the perfect daughter and sister to a father who didn’t like you and two brothers your senior. 

Family for you is complicated. It always has been. You didn’t get the unconditional love you’d hoped for in all of them, but you have one older brother who loves you as though you and him are two branches of the same tree, and maybe that’s enough for anyone. 

“Yes!” Aaron cheers, jumping up from the bench. 

You spin around with a grin that’s half shy, half ecstatic. “I did it!” 

Jack runs up to your legs. “You got a strike!” 

You pretend to give him a karate chop. “Boosh! Double strike.” You grin as Aaron sizes up the pins down the long ally. “Think your dad can get one before we run out of turns?” 

“No!” Jack laughs. 

You laugh at his easy answer. His father, determined now in the face of your disbelief, picks up a number twelve ball and stands at the arrows to take his last turn. You brace your hands on Jack’s shoulders and wait for the line to be put down again. 

You’re pretty sure he’s throwing his turns to let Jack win. You’d not done the same until you realised the yawning gap in the scores, and maybe you’d feel embarrassed for not noticing if Aaron ever made you feel bad for anything, but he doesn’t. 

Your phone rings as he pulls back his arm. You ignore it. “Good luck, dad!” Jack says under your hands. 

It’s that good luck that gives Aaron his strike. You cheer with Jack as the ball glides straight into the first pin and veers on a spin toward the third, creating a wave of noise and action as the pins go flying back toward the baseboard. 

Aaron turns around with a huge smile. “Jack!” 

“You did it!” Jack cheers back. “Not first, but you did!” 

You grab your phone from your pocket. “Couldn’t let me have it, could you?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?” Aaron picks Jack up from the floor to hold against his chest, pointing at the screen with love. “Look at that, buddy, you won! Can you see that? You got the most points!” Aaron kisses his cheek, high on happiness. “Wow!” 

You have two missed calls from Spencer. To Aaron’s begrudgement, you and Spencer are actually going steady. The first attraction didn’t fizzle, the dates turned to dating turned to exclusivity; Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, and he’s supposed to be taking you out to dinner in ten minutes. 

“Everything okay?” Aaron asks, creeping closer to you, Jack still in his arms. 

“It’s fine, he’s just running late.” You notice his small frown. “His mom’s doctor wanted to talk to him, that’s all.” 

“How late is he thinking?” 

The plan was you’d go bowling with your family and then meet Spencer outside to eat at the Chinese restaurant just across the parking lot, but it’s not seeming so sure now. 

“He said half an hour. I’m pretty hungry,” you say, “he’s gotta speak to a psychiatrist about something. I can’t eat though, right? That’s rude.” 

“That’s not rude, honey. You can’t help being hungry as much as he can’t help being late.” As you’d noticed his, he notices your small frown. “You can’t go hungry,” he says with a shrug, “so you’re gonna have to come and eat something, but Spencer can join us when he’s done.” 

“Right, because you’ll love that.” 

“I’ve been on more dates with him than you have.” 

You take Jack as he opens his arms toward you. “I forget. I always think of you as his boss, and not his teammate.” 

Aaron grabs Jack’s backpack off of the bench, and your empty cups off of the table to throw away. “I am his boss. Okay, Jack, what do you want for dinner? What sounds good?” 

You, Aaron and Jack leave the bowling alley and end up in the Italian restaurant opposite of your originally proposed restaurant. You carry Jack on your hip and text Spencer with your open hand, content to let Aaron guide you through what little foot traffic there is to your table. Aaron sits on one side of the booth with Jack, and you slide into the other side. 

Spencer’s texts are getting more and more convoluted. He says he’s sorry, and then he says he has to call someone else, and then he needs to talk to his mom. You nibble your fingernail. 

“You okay?” 

You nod slowly. “Yeah, uh… Yes, everything’s fine.” 

“Is Spencer okay?” 

“I think he might cancel.” 

Aaron flattens his menu. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. I think his mom is having a bad day…” 

“What else are you worried about?” 

Jack saves you for a moment, “Dad, can I have juice?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll get you juice. Apple juice?” 

Jack presses his cheek to Aaron’s arm, earning himself a hug. 

“Are you tired?” Aaron whispers. 

“No.” 

“Okay. Hey, there’s a table over there with some colouring pages and crayons, do you see that? Do you want to do some colouring?” 

“Can I go get some?” Jack asks. 

“Yes. Don’t bump into anybody, okay?” 

The table isn’t far enough to worry, but Aaron splits his attention between Jack and you fairly evenly, just a tad more worry following his son. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Aaron asks. 

“You don’t think Spencer would lie, do you?” you ask. 

“Lie about his mother? I doubt it very much.” 

You trust Aaron, and you trust Spencer too, but Aaron has earned that trust over years and years where Spencer has been gifted it. He hasn’t done anything to break it, but he hasn’t proved he should have it yet either. And really, truly, it isn’t actually about what you believe of Spencer. 

You feel a bit nauseous, but your brother is the best person in the world, so you tell him why without preamble, “I’m worried that he’s going to get sick of me.” 

“Why would he do that?” Aaron asks. 

You scratch at the menu beneath your hand rather than meet his eyes. Because you’re awful. That’s what your father instilled in you, and it’s what you’ve come to learn. Eventually, the people who love you get tired of you. Everyone except Aaron, and isn't that proof of something? He’s the only man good enough to pretend you’re someone worth caring about. 

If he could hear your thoughts he’d probably cry. It’s why you’ve struggle to tell him. 

You rub your thumb into the side of your index finger, feeling the texture of your skin. “I think people just do.” 

Jack returns quickly, with paper and a huge fist full of crayons, though there are four colours altogether. “Well,” Aaron says, helping Jack back into his seat, crayons rolling released from a small fist every which way, “I don't. And Jack doesn’t, Haley doesn’t. I see no reason why Spencer would feel that way.” 

“What don’t I do?” Jack asks, frowning at his dad. 

“You don’t think Aunt Y/N’s bad at bowling, do you?” 

“You’re great at bowling!” Jack's eyes go wide. “I’m gonna make us a photo, to remember. We got strikes!” 

You let your face fall into your hand as Aaron strokes hair up the side of Jack’s head. It’s a soothing thing to see, you know the soft touch of his hand well, having been petted and patted through a hundred different bad moments. 

Spencer probably isn’t lying about why he’s late, but he could be. You wouldn’t blame him. 

“She’s very good at bowling,” Aaron says, hugging Jack to his side. “And so many other things, that’s why we love her. Should we make a list?” 

He used to love doing that, too. 

Your father wasn’t a nice or kind man. Aaron doesn’t know how it escalated, only knows what happened to him, and how he’d come to see you and you’d burst into tears the second he asked how you were. 

If Aaron knew how bad it was at the time he would’ve forced you to leave, but you never told the whole truth. He assumed it to be a mixture of everything —school was awful, dad was worse, and you were more isolated than most. 

Make me a list, he’d say. 

The first time you didn’t get it. You were a teenager sitting on his couch, his wife in the kitchen, a weight on your chest. What for? 

A list of the stuff that’s bothering you. 

Do you need a list? you’d asked. He had a knack for knowing more than you could say. 

I think we should make one. 

You realise now it was a strategy to calm you down. If you could quantify the things that were depressing you, you could begin to understand it, and hopefully dismantle some of the bigger problems. It didn’t always work, but it didn’t matter. It made you feel better just to have you and Aaron on the same couch with a notebook and a number two pencil. Don’t see my brother enough, he’d written with a sad face. 

Brother, you’d thought with a secret joy. He’s your brother. 

Jack and Aaron make a list they won’t show you. You order drinks and then dinner, waiting for a phone call or a text back you don’t receive. It’s disheartening, and when your pasta arrives, you can barely eat. 

“Honey,” Aaron says, “why don’t you go call him? You can see if he’s alright.” 

You poke at a shell with a tightly gripped fork. “What if he doesn’t want me to call him? It sounds serious.” 

“Maybe that’s why you should call him. I think he’d appreciate it.” He looks like he wants to reach for you, but ultimately, he doesn’t. “Take a minute for yourself, if nothing else. Everything’s okay, I promise.” 

“Sorry.” 

“For what?” Jack asks. 

You smile regretfully. “I’m just feeling confused today, babe. What about you? Are you confused about where your mouth is?” you tease lightly. 

Aaron gasps a laugh and reaches over to wipe Jack down with a napkin as you slip from the booth. You take your phone, worrying that Aaron’s eyes are on your back as you pass by the host booth and back out onto the street. The breeze kisses your clammy skin. 

Why do you assume that no one really likes you? It’s difficult to comprehend. Your thumb hovers over Spencer’s contact photo, debating, and debating. Should you call him? He might be preoccupied, upset even, and what if you make it worse? But if you don’t call him, you can’t reassure yourself that you’re not in trouble. 

He answers on the third trill. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

“Hey!” There’s a sound like something heavy has been put down. “Hey, I’m so sorry!” 

“Don’t be sorry!” you say immediately. “It’s okay. Are you okay?” 

Spencer’s voice is a little high and fast, but beside that, he has a nice tenor. When he’s calm and feeling up to it, alone at night with nothing else to do, he’ll read to you from one of his infinite books, his syllables catching and tripping over air as you rub your nose into his arm. 

“I’m fine! There was a mixup with some medication at the sanitarium and they realised my mom’s dose of one of her antipsychotics has been charted higher than she was really taking, so she’s been having a hard time, it’s a total mess but I think we have it figured out now. How was bowling?” 

“Spencer, are you sure it’s okay?” 

“It’s fine.” He laughs softly, not a hint of condescension or derision for you, but an emotion you can’t name. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I mean, it’s fine if it’s not okay. I know you can’t help yourself sometimes, but you don’t have to tell me it’s fine if it’s not fine.” 

“Uh–” You cough around it. “No, it really is. You can’t help it. Family is important, right?” 

“It’s so important. Listen, where are you right now?” 

“I’m just standing outside of the Pasta Factory by the bowling alley. I tried to have dinner ‘cos I’m starving, but… I think I lost my appetite.” 

“What? Are you okay?” 

“I’m having one of those days, I guess?”

“What kind of day?” 

His voice is bouncing strangely, as though he’s talking near you. You pause, turning on your heel to look down the few stairs into the parking lot asphalt. 

Spencer’s walking up them, a bouquet of roses in his hands. 

“Hi,” you say, the phone still pressed to your ear. 

Spencer puts his away. “Hi. 

His hug is full, all-encompassing and warm as he wraps his arms around you, the bouquet a cacophony of crinkling against your shoulder. He smells like aftershave, his Tom Ford one with the woody tinge that has you pressing your nose into the top of his shoulder to just breathe. Your phone digs into his spine. He doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Hey,” he says softly, giving you a similar swaying, back and forth. “I’m sorry I’m late, I had to call them, but it wasn’t fair on you.” 

“Spencer,” you say, holding him tightly. “You’re my boyfriend.” 

“Don’t sound so unsure.” 

“No, but. We can be flexible, right?” 

“Of course we can, but I’m still sorry.” He peels back to smile at you, his eyes gently squinted. “So what’s wrong? What’s making it one of those days?” 

You can’t explain it to him. He likely doesn’t need you to. 

You’re expecting him to pull away —you’re in a public place and affection isn’t his usual expertise— but he doubles down. New boyfriend or not, this hug feels like it’s from somebody who’s loved you for years and years. 

“What’s making it a bad day?” he asks quietly. 

“I don’t know…” You rub your nose self indulgently against his shoulder. 

“Are you sure you have no appetite? Maybe that’s what it is? Stuff tends to feel bigger or more upsetting when we’re hungry because low blood sugar prompts your body to release more hormones that affect your cortisol level, and cortisol plays a big part in how your mind interprets your emotions.” Spencer pulls away, his hand sliding up your shoulder to hold you in place. He grins. “So I think you should still let me take you to dinner. Especially if you didn’t eat much.” 

Why would Spencer lie to you? you think, relieved. He wouldn’t. And the idea that he’s going to get sick of you, that’s rooted in bad lessons from a poor situation. It’s not a reflection on you. 

“We will,” you decide, “I just have to get my stuff. I left my bag, and Jack’s writing me a list.” 

“What list?” 

“A list of stuff I’m good at.” 

He doesn’t waver. “Really? Can I add stuff too?” You turn your nose up in an unsubtle prompting, satisfied when Spencer gives you a quick, smiling kiss. “Sorry,” he says, though his apology is distracted by a fond undertone, “I missed you.” 

You receive a few more gentle kisses for all your worries, and you begin to feel better. Spencer presses the roses into your hand and encourages you into the restaurant with his hand spread behind your back. 

[burrowdarling]

The Offline Series 001

Summary: The introduction to The Offline Series, covering the last day of the regular season and the beginning of the postseason.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: This series will have mentions of adult content throughout so MDNI

Note: Hi everyone and welcome to The Offline Series! It's taken some time and rewriting, but the first part is finally here. I have plans to do specific events like the Pro Bowl Games as well as other ideas as connected standalones. I'm excited to create this small for these two and I hope you'll come along for the ride! Asks about these two are always welcome, I'd love to develop a world for them.

Word Count: 5.6k (my longest fic yet!)

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The past few days have felt a bit tense in the house with the season ending the way it had. Of course, you had wished things had gone differently, but it only made you more hopeful for the next season to come. Things were very touch and go when it came to Joe’s mood. Which was to be expected. You were so proud of him and the way he was able to lead the team to a winning record by the end of the season. You knew Joe was beating himself up about it despite the records he was breaking and the path he was paving in the NFL as a whole. You knew he was MVP material and it gutted you that he wasn’t in the conversation with the numbers he was putting up despite the final scores of each game.

He was processing the way he always would, by himself in his own way. He was going to the gym, meeting with who he needed to, throwing himself into everything else but rest. Arguably that also meant it was most things except time with you. You hadn’t seen too much of him recently, but you could feel his lower energy in the house even when he wasn’t around. Things felt colder and you had to admit you were starting to get a bit lonely. You thought back to that Sunday when the big shift in him happened while you went around the house and tidied, not like there was much when one of your stress relievers was cleaning.

**Flashback to Sunday**

You had the 4:25 games all on at once, each game taking up their respective corners of the screen. You were hopeful that having more than the two games would provide some kind of distraction, but you knew his mind was elsewhere when he kept his vision darting between the two opposing corners of the screen. You wished you could read his mind, making sure to remain close enough if he needed you, but far enough that he was able to be with his own thoughts.

You knew that the other guys were glued in the same positions after talking with the other girls. There was a constant stream of messages in your group chat talking about how the guys were doing and sharing the experience with one another through the phone. By some miracle, you hoped the Jets and Broncos would pull this off. You had a deep gut feeling based on the Chiefs lineup that things weren’t going to go the way you needed them to. The most you could do was hold out hope and watch with cautious optimism. You found yourself copying Joe’s movements, unable to look away from the two most important games. The Jets were starting off strong and that lifted some weight, but the Broncos came out swinging so fast against the second stringers for the Chiefs. 

You couldn’t blame them, really. It was no other team's job to win or lose for someone else, but that didn’t make the game on the screen any less frustrating to witness. The amount of time the Chiefs quarterback was taking in the pocket from having no open players to pass to, it was no wonder he was getting sacked left and right. The score just kept getting higher and higher, the Bengals chances slipping away the more the Broncos scored. The Jets win wasn’t even necessary at this point, feeling worse knowing everything had gone to plan except this once game.

You kept glancing over at Joe, watching the light in his eyes fade with the passing time. You knew he was worried about the outcome as much as he tried to hide it. He wanted a chance in the playoffs, working his ass off to finish with the win streak they had, not to mention the records he was breaking for himself and on the team. If anything he turned colder, feeling the shift in him from where you were sitting on the couch. You made no move to touch him let alone speak to him when he got like this. You didn’t know which version of Joe you would get and you weren’t in the best mindset to find out.

By halftime, Joe had retreated to his office without a word and you let him. You couldn’t get yourself to turn the screen off, watching the abysmal scene in front of you at the Chiefs vs Broncos game. The amount of things that had to go the Bengals way, it felt like it was so far fetched. It really did come down to this one game. The score was so far gone, it was purely to see how far the Broncos would push it. 

Towards the end of the fourth quarter, you turned the game off and made your way to the kitchen to make something for dinner. You didn’t know if Joe would eat, but you had to at least try. You cooked his favorite, plating some for yourself and making him a plate. You walked cautiously up to his office, a warry feeling sitting in your chest as you got closer to the closed door. It was silent on the other side, able to hear a pin drop. You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves before you faced what could be on the other side of the door.

You knocked gently on the door, hearing some grumbling on the other side before the door was pulled open. You were met with a blank faced Joe, his hair roughed up from his fingers tangling in it. You knew better than to mention a word about the game. Joe was beating himself up more than you could even imagine. You held his gaze, trying your best to keep things direct as you moved the plate in your hands towards him.

“I made you some dinner in case you were hungry. I’m gonna take a shower and get in bed to read for a bit. In case I fall asleep before you, I love you and I’m here if you need me,” you said and weren’t expecting any type of verbal response back.

He looked down at the meal you made him, watching as the slightly bit of tension dropped from his shoulders. His eyes moved back up to yours and the smallest ‘thank you’ slipped past his lips. You arched up on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, his frame always towering over you. He took the plate from your hands and gave you a nod before turning to close the door. You let him shut himself inside, knowing that all you could do at this point was wait for him to come around. You wouldn’t stop showing him small acts of kindness and support, knowing he was still appreciative even if he didn’t show it. You would always be there to take care of him and you weren’t stopping now.

**End of flashback**

You had your current read perched in your lap, trying your best to keep your mind occupied on something that wasn’t the thick feeling in the air. You were doing anything you could to keep yourself busy-reading, cooking, cleaning, even leaving earlier for work, and getting yourself a coffee in the morning rather than making it at home. You knew Joe would open up when he was ready, but the meantime wasn't always the easiest to manage. You felt your phone buzz on the couch next to you, lifting it to see what the notification was. You saw that it was an Instagram post notification from Joe because of course, you have his notifications on. It was a rare occurrence when he would post anything so you had to be in the know. You clicked on the notification, having an inkling of what it could be, but the wind was still knocked out of your chest as you read his caption.

"Season to remember, sorry you won’t get to watch anymore. Year 5 in the books." 

You stared at your phone for a moment, processing the post he made. You felt your heart break for him, unsure of what could be going through his mind while he was upstairs. Swiping through the few photos he posted along with it. The first photo being of “the big three” as everyone has been calling them. The next two being of himself on the field and the last of him and Ted. You felt like you could sense the emotion through the phone screen.

He came down from his office a little while later, his hair ruffled from constantly running his fingers through it. You could imagine him sitting at his desk, looking for the right thing to say to his fans. The movement of gripping his locks through his fingers was a way of grounding himself when he felt overwhelmed. You noticed it as the season had gone on, tending to do it more often in press conferences when all he wanted was to be at home either alone in his office or with you. He went over to the fridge to grab something to drink, spinning off the cap and taking a huge swig as he walked over to where you were in the living room. You had on some mindless TV show in the background for noise, not paying it much attention.

He came to sit down next to you on the couch, slouching into the cushions with a deep sigh escaping past his lips that he must've been holding in. You shifted to sit up criss-crossed with a blanket draped over your lap. You patted the spot on your lap gently, signaling Joe to rest his head in your lap. He moved to you without a word, positioning his long limbs on the couch to settle his head in your lap with his legs draping over the edge of the armrest.

“Take this as a chance to just be offline for a while. You spent months holding so much of other people’s bullshit all season. You deserve to take the offseason as time for you,” you spoke softly as you started to gently touch his head and felt him lean into your hand. 

Joe let out a sigh of contentment as he settled into your touch. You knew it was something that made him feel safe and grounded. You ran your hands through his hair, giving him time to process your words and respond. A break was something Joe wasn’t the most familiar with, always needing to be on and moving all of the time.

“I know you’re right. It’s just hard to shut my mind off sometimes. It’s hard to feel like I could’ve done more, still can do more to prepare for next season. I don’t want to have the same rhetoric from everyone next season like I did this year.”

You felt your heart break for him. There was an ache in your chest at his admission, feeling a small tear drop against your exposed skin. You leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his temple, letting your lips linger there. 

“I know you worked your ass off Joey, you always do. You also earned yourself some time to unwind for a while, let your body rest. I’m excited to finally get to spend some uninterrupted quality time with you. Your mind and your body deserve to heal J, I’ll be here with you while you do. I already know you’re gonna come back stronger than ever.”

You tilted his chin up, turning his head towards you. You looked down and the gentle giant with glossy eyes in your lap. The thought brought a smile to your lips and a small laugh. You leaned over once more, placing a kiss to his pouting lips this time. You were about to sit back up, but Joe kept you in place. The kiss began to get more intense, feeling a small fire igniting within you at his tongue grazing across your lower lip. 

You were putty in his hands, body willing to do whatever it was that he wanted. Joe loved how reactive you were to his touch, no matter how small or innocent it was. 

A small moan escaped your lips, unsure of how you guys ended up in a full makeout after having such a deep moment. You finally pulled away, the angle becoming too much for you as you started to get a bit light headed. You weren’t sure if it was from having your head turned or the intoxicating pull that was Joe, figuring it had to be some kind of combination of the two. 

“Sorry hun, I couldn’t keep my head like that for much longer. I was only trying to make you feel better, not —” you were cut off from your apology with a much gentler kiss placed on your lips.

“I know that, this was one of those times I was at a loss for words to tell you how much I love you so I figured I would show you instead. I know I can get in my head a lot, I really do appreciate that you give me the space to think.”

“Of course, Joey. You know I’ll always be here whenever you need to talk. Me forcing you isn’t going to do either of us any good in the long run. You also know I’ll happily be a willing participant to your throes of affection. In that case you’re more than welcome to show me properly.”

Joe sat up and took your hand in his to guide you off the couch, moving so quickly towards the stairs.

“Don’t mind if I do, all you had to do was say the word.”

Joe was always amazing in bed, but there was something even deeper about the way he would make love to you. Everything felt ten times more intense than usual, his passion unmatched. You were left lying there breathless, the sheets haphazard over the bed with your body tucked snuggle into Joe's side. His hand gently grazes your side, slowly lulling you to sleep. Exhaustion almost overtook you before his voice broke through the silence that enveloped you.

“Thank you for everything that you do for me. I know I’m not the easiest to love, but I’m grateful for you everyday,” his words waking you from your sleepy state.

You turned around to face him, his arm falling between you as you did. You moved your hands up to cup his cheek, feeling him lean into your soft touch as you stroked the stubbled skin. You felt Joe release a breath he must’ve been holding in and let his eyes fall closed. It was the most relaxed you had seen him in days.

“Joey loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, doing this with you makes the highs and lows worth it all.”

You saw a quick tear slip past his defenses, quick to wipe it away hoping you didn’t see. It was too late for him though, you were too busy doting on him. His eyes looked up to meet yours and it was over for him. Joey tucked himself into your body as if you would make the pain he was feeling go away just from your touch. The more tears streamed down his cheeks onto your exposed skin, silent sobs racked his body and all you could do was hold him. Whispering sweet nothing in his ear while stroking his back with light scratches of your nails. Your heart split in two at the pain he must’ve been feeling, it being so hard for him to let you in.

You have no idea how long you two laid there, your gentle giant finding his solace in your smaller embrace. As his tears seemed to settle and his body relaxed, the tension finally dissipated his body for good from the emotional release. Joe sniffled as he pulled back from your neck. His baby blue eyes were red, his face flushed pink. You brought your hands up to wipe any stray tears from his face. Joe seemed to be closer to his normal self, something still holding him back.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, able to tell that there was something he wanted to bring up.

“I got an offer to attend the Australian Open and I’ve been thinking about it, it could be a different experience for me. I wasn’t necessarily gonna go, but after we talked I think I’m gonna tell them yes. I was hesitant because I was honestly still feeling so down on myself, but you’re right that I deserve to go out and enjoy the fun things like everyone else has been doing. People are gonna talk regardless so I might as well be happy while they do,” Joe said with a finality to his words and a returning sense of confidence you hadn’t seen for a bit.

“That’s awesome sweetheart, I totally think you should go. Get out of the cold in the land down under,” you joked back with him wishing you could escape the throes of the Cincinnati winter.

By the look on his face, you could tell he wanted to make some kind of oral joke but was holding himself back to preserve the moment the two of you were sharing. You felt him pull you in closer to his chest, his arms securing you in like a fortress from the outside world. You rested your head on his solid chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat bring you a feeling of comfort.

“They offered for you to join me of course, but I know you can't just take off of work that easily. I wish I could have you there with me, I really am sorry for being such a dick and icing you out,” Joe spoke as he peppered the top of your head with kisses 

“I would love to go with you, but I already finessed time to go to Orlando for the Pro Bowl Games with you, unfortunately. I’m excited for you to get that experience and can’t wait to hear all about it. I’ll be here when you get back, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“I’d hope so, don’t be surprised if I don’t let you out of my sight when I get home,” Joe warned in a teasing tone you knew all too well meant only one thing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way lover boy,” you pushed back, giving him a kiss to his nose. “I’m starting to think I’ll have to make you a self-care plan to ensure you actually take a break for once.”

“Does this plan involve you in all sorts of positions for me,” Joe teased as he brought his hand to cup your bare breast, swiping his thumb over your peaked nipple.

You gasped at his touch, still feeling sensitive. You lightly smacked his hand away as you feigned offense. Your body’s reaction betrays you in that moment, feeling the heat begin to form in your center. You had to be the voice of reason for once, both of you needing some kind of sleep more than anything.

“Get your mind out of the gutter for once, I actually meant it seriously. If I need to take the time to make one for you I will,” you said and you meant it, “just because I work with kids doesn’t mean it can’t apply to you too.”

You worked in mental health, mainly with kids and adolescents. You were able to be a safe space for them to learn how to share, develop healthy coping skills, and work through anything that was going on with them. There were times that you could see where Joe would benefit from taking a different approach. He was such a big advocate for mental health, but he didn’t always give himself the same grace when he needed it.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll behave and take my time. I was honestly thinking of getting a massage tomorrow if you’d like to come with me. It could be a great way for us both to destress,” Joe suggested.

The idea did sound incredibly tempting, knowing you had your own knots and pent up tension stored in your body. You hadn’t gone for a massage in ages and Joe always got them as a form of restoring his body during the season. 

You rolled over, feeling Joe sniggle up behind you as he draped an arm over your waist, “you let me know when and where, you bet I’ll be there.”

Joe’s trip to Australia came and went in a flash, sticking true to his word and making sure he showed you just how much he missed you. Claiming he needed some way to ‘exhaust himself’ and get him to sleep from the massive time change he was combatting. He told you all of the stories from his time there that you hadn’t already heard over the phone while you two lay in bed. You weren’t exactly sure when you fell asleep, being lulled into slumber from the warmth and presence of your boyfriend.

That next morning, you woke up to Joe splayed out next to you. He looked so peaceful; with the thin white sheet draped across his lower half, chiseled chest on full display for you to admire. Both of you had forgotten to pull the shades over after yesterday’s activities, the morning sun casting a warm glow across his sun kissed skin. It felt like a crime to wake him, but you had massage therapists coming to the house. Joe wanted to keep things private and got a few people to come here that he’s worked with through the team during the season. You were grateful considering how tender each of your muscles felt from last night, skin heating at the thought.

The least you could do was wake him gently, shifting on the mattress so you were level with his stomach. You always admired Joe’s body and he damn well knew that. You never got the chance to do so this close and unrushed though. You took your time absentmindedly tracing patterns across his skin, lightly dragging your fingertips through the dips and curves of his muscles and hips. You dropped your lips to his warm skin, making a path of kisses up to his neck. You felt him stir about halfway through, glancing up to see a barely there smile on his lips.

You could tell he was trying to remain “asleep” to not interrupt your pursuit. You decided to have a little fun knowing he was awake. You dragged your lips up his chest, lightly sucking at the skin on the base of his neck. You felt his breath hitch underneath your lips feeling satisfied. You nipped at his ear causing a groan to come from Joe, unable to hold back his facade any longer.

You could tell he was trying to remain “asleep” so as to not interrupt your pursuit. You decided to have a little fun knowing he was awake. You dragged your lips up his chest, lightly sucking at the skin on the base of his neck. You felt his breath hitch underneath your lips feeling satisfied. You nipped at his ear causing a groan to come from Joe, unable to hold back his facade any longer.

He shifted quickly, tucking you under his body as his strong arms caged you into him. You giggled as he ducked his head and nipped at your neck, knowing it was where you were super ticklish. His attacks against you were ruthless, leaving you begging him through sputters of air and laughs to get him to cease fire.

“Good morning to you too,” you said, trying to regain control of your breathing. 

“I could say the same thing to you too, I’m not complaining if I get to wake up to your touch every morning,” Joe said as he ducked back down in an attempt to move things further.

You stuck your hand out as a barrier to stop him. You wouldn’t have nearly enough time with your massage appointments happening soon. You wanted to freshen up quickly to be ready for them when they got there. 

“We’re not gonna have any time right now, J. They’re gonna be here in,” you looked down at your bare wrist, a small laugh rumbling in Joe’s chest at your humor, “like 10 minutes.”

“I’ll bet you I only need three of those ten if you let me,” Joe tried to press, hoping to win you over with a morning orgasm to start your day.

You had to admit, it was definitely a tempting offer. Joe loved lazy morning sex with you, feeling the lack of time constraints and pressure. It was his favorite way to start his day when he could. There were also mornings where quickies would wake either of you up before you had places to be, connecting before your busy days. You contemplated the idea, Joe wiggling his eyebrows suggestively above you trying to entice you. You also would have the rest of the day with this being the only thing you had planned. You worked to flip yourselves to get you on top, Joe grinning thinking that he would be getting his way. You slipped off of him, throwing on some semblance of clothing and ran your fingers through your hair to tame it. 

Joe groaned feeling like you pulled a trick on him. Before he could protest you, the sound of the doorbell ringing sounded through the stillness of the house. A smile crossed your lips as you started to make your way out of the room, turning back once you reached the frame of the door. You left him alone in bed, sat up against the headboard frustrated from your absence. He looked lost, a pout formed on his lips and a prominent bulge obvious underneath the thin fabric of the sheet.

“You should probably take care of that before you come down, I don’t think your massage would appreciate it,” you said with a smirk as you disappeared down the hallway

“Oh you’re gonna get it later sweetheart,” Joe called after you, making you laugh at the promise.

You composed yourself before pulling the door open. You greeted them kindly, letting them in to get everything setup in the living room. The pair seemed lovely, telling you a bit about themselves while getting their things ready. They handed you a robe and requested you change into whatever made you feel the most comfortable. You left to change, tying the robe overtop of the bralette and sleep shorts you put on. You were exiting the bathroom when Joe made his way down the stairs in a pair of tight alo shorts. They were sitting high up on his thighs as if he had them pulled up, the glimpse at the skin making your mouth water. 

It was like he could read your mind, choosing those on purpose as a form of payback for leaving him alone to take care of himself. He dropped you a wink before passing you to say hello, taking the second to shake those thoughts from your mind for the time being. This was technically your fault, but you knew it would also make him more worked up later.

You both laid on your respective tables and let the two ladies get to work. You had never gotten a massage before, not thinking it was a necessity, but having a change of heart after the first few minutes. The lotion felt and smelled absolutely amazing, giving reprieve to your aching and neglected muscles. Your shoulders felt the tightest from how much sitting you had to do at work, constantly seated in different positions at your desk or on the floor if that’s what your clients preferred during their sessions. Sighs of content and groans of pain as she worked tumbled from your lips without a second thought. Joe was mostly silent, making you realize how often he did this and was used to it by now.

Knots you didn’t even know you had were being pressed and worked. You couldn't help the groans of relief that left your mouth, trying your best to taper the sounds. Turning to look over at Joe whose pupils were blown wide as his back was being worked on as well. You let your eyes trail down his frame, knowing exactly what was under the sheet covering his lower half. Your body was heating, feeling conflicting feelings of tension and relaxation as your masseau’s hands worked wonders at alleviating your deep seated stress. You turned your head to face away, knowing it would be for the best.

You made small talk the best you could, finding it hard to speak when certain tight areas were touched, cutting off whatever it was that you were saying. It made you wonder how Joe did this as often as he did, focusing on the temporary hurt being worth it in the end. After about 40ish minutes, they began to finish up and gave you both a few minutes to relax while they went and cleaned up their hands.

You sat up to stretch, reaching your arms above your head and appreciated the lack of pain when you did. You felt Joe’s eyes locked on your body sensing the heat in his gaze without meeting his eyes. He stood up off of his table, not worrying about wrapping his robe back around him. He came to where you were sitting, leaning into you with his hands pressing into the massage table on either side of your legs. His knuckles brushed against your exposed skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Joe leaned down more to meet your ear, bracing for what filth was about to come out of his mouth.

“You bet your sweet ass the minute they leave, I’m gonna have you screaming my name for so long your voice will be gone by dinner time,” he whispered, his voice husky and dripping with lust.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was only barely lunch time. You breath caught in your throat as Joe brought one of his hands up to cup your cheek, slipping down to lightly grip your throat. You swore you forgot how to breathe, getting so lost in the moment that the sound of running water scared you back into reality. Remembering you weren’t alone and could get caught with Joe hand around your throat at any moment made a new wave of pleasure wash over you.

You separated when you heard the footsteps begin to get closer. Heat crept up your cheeks at almost being caught in a not so innocent position, even if you were in your own home. You chatted for a few minutes while they packed everything up. You talked about tentative plans for another appointment soon, now that you knew what you were missing out on. You had barely walked them out the door before Joe was behind you in his robe. Your front was pressed against the cold material of the front door, eliciting a gasp from your parted lips. 

“Do you know how hard it was to just lay there knowing you were wearing so little beside me,” Joe said as he slipped your robe off your shoulders placing kisses to the exposed skin, “making all of those little noises of yours.”

Joe slipped the robe off the rest of your body, letting it fall to the floor. Turning you around to face him, keeping your proximity to one another so close it was hard for you to spin. He dropped to his knees before you, taking in the sight before you. He slipped off your shorts, growling at the sight before him.

You had forgone underwear, forgetting to sip some on after this morning and assuming the coverage of the shorts would be sufficient enough. In hindsight, it worked as easier access for a moment like this.

“Naughty girl, getting that entire massage while eye fucking me with this bare pussy,” Joe chastized into the flesh of your thighs, alternating between kissing and nipping at your skin.

“I was too preoccupied this morning, I guess I must’ve forgotten,” you spoke, half lying as you tried to keep your head on straight from his touch so close to where you wanted him the most.

“Likely story, you could’ve had this pussy wrapped around my cock this morning, but someone had to be a tease,” Joe said as he brought his hand down to your wet pussy.

Joe wasted no time in latching his mouth onto your center, feeling so close a release already from how strung up your body already was. He alternated between licking and sucking that your mind was spinning. You gripped your hands into his hair, tugging slightly to let him know how close to the edge you were.

Right as you were about to fall over it, Joe pulled back and stood to meet your lips in a rough kiss. You groaned in frustration at your lack of climax, irritated at how close yet so far you were from release. When Joe pulled back 

“What the hell J, I was so fucking close,” you whined, knowing you sounded like a brat.

“You’ll get there when I let you, if someone was nicer to me this morning then they wouldn’t be left hanging would they,” Joe said as he sauntered off towards the stairs, “I'm gonna hop in the shower. I want you on the bed and ready for me once I’m out and maybe I’ll let you cum if you behave.”

You were stunned in your spot for a moment. The time off seems to already be doing wonders for his mood, the downside being that he had time to be just as much of a tease as you were. You hustled up the stairs doing exactly what he asked. You were glad that your body was relaxed, not sure if Joe would be using that to his advantage. You could get used to disconnected Joe.

[jeonjaemark]

baby please come home || choi seungcheol

content warning: light suggestive, sexual themes, MDNI // masterlist

“you’re so serious.” he giggles, pulling his phone closer to him.

i cut down the strip of paper and fold it diagonally creating a pattern before looking back at my phone. seungcheol was laid up against the headboard of his bed in the hotel room. for the past hour we have been talking back and forth while i tried to wrap up some last minute gifts i bought.

“wrapping gifts is an art form.”

“babe, people are going to end up ripping the paper anyways.”

“you know i could always return or revoke your christmas gift.” i stick my tongue out at him. “and for your information everyone always compliments my wrapping skills.”

“i know. everyone compliments me too.” he winks.

i roll my eyes at his word play and set the newly wrapped gift under the tree.

“what did you get me for christmas?” he asked curiously.

“i forgot. you would have to ask kkuma cause she was with me when i wrapped it.” i half laughed as he pouts his lips glaring at me. “even if she tells you, you will have to wait until after christmas when you get back to open it.”

“can i open you instead?” a smug grin on his lips.

i bit back my tongue from the bait and just shake my head at him. kkuma walks over to me, brushing herself against me. seungcheol’s face lights up at the sight of her.

“kkuma! hi!” seungcheol coos through the screen.

she doesn’t pay attention to him, not even turning her head at the sound of his voice. she leans into my hand as i gently stroke through her hair. she leans up to kiss my cheek making me giggle. seungcheol repeatedly fails to call kkuma to his attention while i kept cracking jokes about how kkuma loves me more than him. i glance back at my phone finding him sulking.

“kkuma! you knew me and love me first before you knew her. why are you ignoring me?” seungcheol spat making me laugh.

kkuma continues to circle around me as i reach around to touch her. she walks off bringing back her favorite ball i recently bought her. i tossed it across the room as she chased after it. seungcheol watches us play together when i notice something flash over his eyes.

“is it wrong that i hate the fact i am working through christmas this year?”

“no, it makes you human.”

“i wish i was home. i miss my girls.” he brings the phone closer to his face.

“we miss you too. i wish you were home for christmas. it’s our holiday that started everything.”

“we can actually can thank kkuma too for that.” he chuckles.

i stroll down the pathway leading towards the large grass field. a few people were playing on the field kicking back and forth a soccer ball. a couple was sat under a tree with a picnic blanket talking and giggling. i take a deep breath taking in my scenery. when reach into my bag searching for my phone, i feel something pawing at my legs. i look down to find a small white fluff at my legs. she leaps up pawing at me until i giggle kneeling down to her.

“hi puppy. what are you doing here? you’re so cute.” i scratch behind her. she stands on her hind legs licking my cheek.

“kkuma! kkuma! come here, baby!” a deep voice calls out.

i look back finding a tall buff man dressed in a beanie, hoodie and jeans. his cheeks were flushed with red from the cold as he walked closer to me. his soft brown eyes meet mine and a surge of warmth rushes through my veins.

“i am sorry about her. she tends to explore on her own. i’m seungcheol by the way and you’ve met kkuma already.”

“no worries. she’s cute and very sweet.” i stood up reaching to shake his hand. “i am y/n.”

“thank you. she seems to really like you.” he smiles taking a step closer.

“maybe she has a good intuition. you know cute girls tend to gravitate towards other cute girls.” i grin running my hand again over kkuma.

“maybe. speaking of gravitating, what gravitated you to come to the park?”

“i just wanted some fresh air and needed to get out of the confinement of my hotel room.”

“you’re not from here?”

i shake my head, “i am just visiting for the holiday season.”

“well while you’re in town, maybe kkuma and i can help show you around the city? that’s if you and your boyfriend aren’t doing anything.”

i bit back a smile but failed miserably, “i am not seeing anyone right now.”

“that’s great. wait… i mean…” he rubs the back of his neck with hand. his face scrunching up from tripping over his words “i mean that’s great as in we can show you around. not ‘that’s great’ that you’re single or anything. not that i am wondering if you are single or anything. wait i mea—“

“seungcheol, would you and kkuma like to have a lunch on wednesday with me?” i asked saving him from further stress and embarrassment.

“yes, we would love to.”

kkuma’s soft bark brings me back to reality and i look at her as she stood at the doorway. her head held high as she stares me down.

“babe, i will call you back. kkuma needs to use the restroom.”

“it’s okay. i have to go anyways. i am gonna have to head out soon so i am just gonna take a quick nap. i will try to call after i settle back into my room later.”

“okay. be safe and have fun. i love you.”

“have fun wrapping the rest of the gifts. i love you.” he blows me a kiss. “i love you too kkuma.”

—————————

kkuma strides next to me as we walk down the pathway towards the grass field. for the good part of our day kkuma and i have been a bunch of couch potatoes snuggling together. i didn’t feel like moving much since christmas eve is meant for lazing around but i did answer back to a few work emails. plus the holidays aren’t the same without seungcheol. some of my friends and family have either called or texted me, wishing a happy holidays, merry christmas eve and updating me on the chaos preparations for the holiday parties or the new drama they learnt from family over the last few hours.

halfway through my movie marathon my eyes started to hurt and kkuma started to have zoomies around the apartment. it was to the point where i thought she was bouncing off the walls as she turns from one corner to the next. the moment i asked her if she wanted to go to the park, she immediately zoomed to grab her harness from the basket near the front door.

we made it down to the open grass field. there wasn’t as many people today since it’s a holiday. a few younger children were playing in the corner screaming and laughing with a rubber ball. one of the kids noticed kkuma and went zooming towards her. the little girl dressed in baby blue tracksuit with her pigtails flopping in the air stops halfway when she saw kkuma hid behind my legs. i kindly wave at the little girl smiling and crouch down towards kkuma. she hops into my arms and the little girl walks closer but remains at a respectful distance admiring her.

the younger girl waves at kkuma before darting back to her family. i wave kkuma’s paw in her direction before setting her back down and removing her leash. i run my fingers through her hair a few times before holding up her favorite bright green ball. her eyes light up in excitement as she stood tall on all four legs being attentive towards my hand. i draw my hand back tossing the ball a few feet away and kkuma zooms right after it.

in between tossing the ball back and forth with my fluff ball, i glance down at my phone. there was nothing. not a single text or call from him. i click on instagram and immediately get flooded with everyone’s holiday photos and videos of either cooking, playing games or opening presents. someone from my old high school posted her photos of her engagement ring she got the other day with her new fiancé. i swipe out of the app sighing to myself.

kkuma drops the ball in front of me and when i throw the ball i don’t realize the amount of force i used. she goes zooming again down the field but this time a little further than i am used to. i walk after her to make sure she is safe but she continues to run down the field. an uncomfortable pit in my stomach forms causing me to jog down after her.

“kkuma! kkuma! come here!” i shout after her.

kkuma continues to run not listening to me. her speed is mind boggling, considering she is tiny. it seem like she was getting further and further away.

when i finally spot a white fluff ball with a pink bow i notice her playing with a tall buff man in a pink hoodie. why does that hoodie look so familiar? i call out kkuma’s name hoping this time she will respond but she still continues to play with him. the man pushes himself up from grass and looks in my direction.

i stop in my tracks in disbelief when his face comes into clear view. dark brown eyes. bushy eyebrows. creamy moonlight skin. pouty lips. that can’t be him.

“i think we solved the argument over who kkuma loves more.” he calls out teasingly.

i slowly walk to him, still trying to process it’s him. seungcheol says something to kkuma and she goes flying towards me with him jogging lightly. they meet me halfway and it starts to settle that’s he’s here. he’s real. it’s not figment of my imagination.

“your dog is really cute.” he smirks walking up to me.

“thank you. her dad and i think she is really cute too.”

“oh, you’re taken? your boyfriend must have good taste having a cute dog and a cute girlfriend.”

“yeah, i would consider him lucky, but he does have a jealous side. so i wouldn’t want you to stand too close to me.”

seungcheol chuckles before pulling me into his embrace. i wrap my arms around him burying my face into the crook of his neck. the hollow feeling in my chest disappears filling up with oozing warmth. at the strength of seungcheol’s arms around me, i think we know who misses who more. kkuma jumps up at us barking and wanting attention but we were both too wrapped in each other to cave into her.

“what are you doing here?” i pull away enough to look at him.

“our schedule wrapped up early today and i asked if i could take an earlier flight back than everyone else.” his smile beaming from ear to ear. “i didn’t want to be away from you longer especially today.”

“i’m happy you’re home.” i lean up kissing the corner of his lips.

“me too.”

kkuma barks again after a few minutes of silent and we both look down at her chuckling. seungcheol reaches down to pet her again and she licks up his face while i clip her leash back to her harness and stuff her toys back into her bag. seungcheol takes the leash from me and i wrap my hand around his arm leaning my head in his shoulder as we walk back to the apartment.

—————————

i rub my cheek against the soft surface underneath me when i feel seungcheol pull the blanket more to cover my body and protect me from the cold. his hand gently running up and down my back in a comforting motion. some people were talking on the tv but i couldn’t recognized the show, movie or video playing quietly in the background. i snuggle my face closer to his chest breathing in his woody clean scent.

“you know it’s creepy to stare.” i murmured, my eyes still closed.

“it’s creepy for random people who do not know you, not for someone who is in love with you.”

i look up at him from my eyelashes as the corner of lips rises at his words, “ugh, you’re home for less than twenty four hours and you’re already getting too clingy.” i joke, pushing myself off him.

seungcheol tightens the blanket and his arm around my body preventing me from leaving. i laugh falling back down to his chest.

“i have a little christmas present for you.”

“i thought i got my christmas present last night. it’s the reason i am sore today because someone clearly missed me.” i giggle.

“well, today is actually christmas day and this is more sentimental and something you can wear and not have it stuffed inside you.” he teases, handing me the small velvet box. “but i would be more than happy to oblige to the latter if you’re in the mood for some more.”

seungcheol kisses my temples and hands me the box. i exam the small velvet exterior suspiciously before flipping it open. a small gold chain bracelet with a heart charm at the center.

“oh my god, cheol!” i gasped staring at the box. “you shouldn’t have. this is so beautiful.”

“it’s the same one like mine so we can match” he holds his wrist next to the box. “you’re always running your fingers over mine so i thought why not get you one that matched.”

“you know the jewelry you’ve gotten me each year keep going down my body. first the earrings then the necklace and now a gold bracelet. should i be expecting a ring next year?” i joked, taking the bracelet out.

“well, we’ve talked about it a lot. maybe one day i will just randomly take you ring shopping without you realizing it.”

seungcheol helps me put on the bracelet around my wrist. i held up against the natural sunlight and it shines. i run my fingers over the bracelet. seungcheol has joked around in the past about getting a matching bracelet with me but i didn’t take him seriously. i didn’t realize my habit of running my fingers over his bracelet until he pointed it out to me a few months ago. it’s just a comforting thing but the fact he bought me one identical to his made me speechless.

“thank you, cheol. i love this but i hope you know that this doesn’t mean i will stop touching your bracelet.” i said sternly.

“i would never suggest such a thing.” he teased.

“i love you.”

“i love you more.”

i lean down taking his lips against mine. a bubbling sensation rises in stomach at the way he kisses me. this kiss is the complete opposite of last night. instead of fast, rough and eager, it’s slow, gentle and intimate as if he wanted to take his time. seungcheol kiss wasn’t a mission this time, it was a journey. his fingers roam up and down the side of my body and squeezes my waist. when i move my hips i feel something poking at the side of my inner thigh. it takes me a second to process it and i pull away from him biting back a full laugh.

“how are you hard already?”

“it can’t be helped when i am around you.” he says sheepishly. “plus you kept moving and it felt good.”

i shake my head at him chuckling, ”well if it felt good then who am i to deny you of that feeling.” i move my hips against his again earning a soft moan against my lips.

[revelboo]

I would sell my soul for a Thundercracker update. I love that hopeless romantic so much ♥️♥️♥️

He wants to be in love so bad and can’t understand that it doesn’t work that way. 18+ content

Better Open The Door Pt 10

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• Servos rubbing against his canopy, he keeps thinking about what he’d done. That he’d stopped you from touching him even though he wanted to feel those fingers cradling him, stroking over his spark. Wanted to trust himself to you and had stopped you instead. You’d reached for him and he could have let you. Without a spark of your own, nothing could come of it. No bond. He could have had that euphoric connection with no strings attached. So why had he stopped you from touching him and creating a connection? Because he wants everything, wants you to want him. Walking back to his quarters, he passes Star. Sees the fresh scruffs and welds and knows he was fighting again. And that he won’t appreciate him asking about it as he strides past from Soundwave’s quarters. With his human in hand. Like they’re no longer a secret to be guarded and something about the look on both of their faces makes him draw his wings closer to his body.

• I want you. Those words keep floating up from the depths of your mind, snagging at you and making you aware of him in ways you’re not comfortable with. Because as much as you want to dismiss his romance attempts, that had felt different. Like he’d bared his soul to you, showing you his spark and you want to ask questions, but also don’t want to pry. But you keeping thinking of that warm, living light. That unconscious urge you’d had to reach for it. To feel it. Him. Pretty sure you’ve been stuck with him too long, sliding into Stockholm’s. Starting to grow attached to your captor. To look forward to spending time with him. To listening to his voice as he talks his way through movies. The gentle slide of his servos against your spine when you’re half asleep.

• Your head comes up when he lets himself into his quarters, brow furrowing until he realizes he still has his wings tucked close. “Everything okay?” You ask, sitting up some as he goes and fidgets with the rigged datapad he has tied into his communication screen for watching movies with you. Wondering about Star and his human, that brokenness he’d seen on their faces when he was sure they’d been close before. What had happened? You stand up when he approaches, arms lifting some so he can pick you up and sprawl on his back on the berth, settling you on his chassis as the movie starts. His pick this time.

• Servos lingering against your spine as you sit on him, you can’t figure out why he’s so distracted when he usually is focused on you completely. “My brother has a human,” he says and you inhale. Because there are other humans here? “I think they’re fighting.” Not a big surprise there if his brother had just kidnapped someone like he’d taken you. “Mates squabble, though.” What?

• “Um. You said mates?” Head lifting to see you staring at him, he smiles weakly. Hadn’t meant to say that, talking to himself as much as to you, but it’s out there now so he just nods. And you shift on top of him. “How?” How? Oh. Fingers reaching to rub along your jaw as Romancing the Stone begins playing on the screen, he’d picked an action romance, hoping to compromise. And as you push at his servos, he mass shifts under you. Hears your sharp gasp as you splay your palms on him, eyes squeezing shut. You’re straddling him now as he vents raggedly and cups your cheek.

• “Sorry about that. Should have warned you,” he says. Falling without falling, when you open your eyes, he’s closer to your size as you sit on him, warm servos stroking your cheek. Brain struggling with him shrinking and his revelation that his brother has a human mate. One of his hands shifts to rest on your hip possessively. Making you realize that when you’d been needling him about how his kind reproduced, he’d shown you his spark. But hadn’t explained anything really. “You can touch me if you want,” he adds, deep voice hesitant as he lifts his hands away from you. As if to say he’ll be good and keep his hands to himself. Tempting you.

• Your bottom lip is between your teeth as you stare down at him and he’s sure you’re about to bolt. That he shouldn’t have pushed so soon for more. That now he’s spooked you, but Starscream has him unsettled. Then you hesitantly reach those soft hands up, your hips sliding against him as you lean forward to cautiously touch his jaw. His own servos curling into fists to keep from touching you in return. Especially as you shift against him and his spike responds where it’s trapped and hidden. Because showing you that probably would send you running. “How does that work? Between one of you and a human?” Fingertips skimming his cheek, leaning so you’re laying on him and he can feel the beat of your heart, every intake scenting of you. Realizes this was such a bad idea as on the screen, the main characters and argue, working at cross purposes. Because now it’s all he can think of. Claiming you.

• Had his optics ever been so bright before? His lips parting and you see a slip of his glossa and denta, watch his throat work. Realize he’s making a low, rumbling noise under you that sounds almost like purring as you sit up and that noise becomes a growl of protest. He’s handsome, you think. Wholly alien, but still familiar to you. “We fit,” he says hands lifting to rest on your hips, servos rubbing circles on your skin through your clothes. And his meaning sinks in. Fit as in sex? Know you should put a stop to this, get off of him and pretend this never happened. Definitely not lay your hands on top of his or shift against him again deliberately just to watch him shiver, optics shuttering. Because it’s too surreal to have this kind of power over him, the way his optics always follow you, his devouring, hungry stare sparking a whole new feeling in you. Because he wants love, but sex and love aren’t the same thing. You can have one without the other.

Previous

Next

[damnfeelings09]

Style - Shadow's version

A.N: this one closes the little story, I'm not really good writting explicit content but I tried my best. Also I'm not sure if you wanted to stay human or mobian so I kinda keept it vague so you could decide.

“Midnight, you come and pick me up, no headlights.”

You got out of the shower, the steam flooding your room, creating a warm and pleasant atmosphere. Carefully, you walked to your bed where your pajamas were already laid out, while the drops of water fell on your shoulders. You loved your days off. You used to spend the whole day at home, making the most of the time with... ah... there he was again, in your thoughts. You still hadn’t decided what you would do about his message. It had been three days, and all you could do was stare at the screen, wondering what would be the most appropriate response. Maybe a “hello” or “what’s up,” or “I love you” or your personal favorite “screw you, idiot, you broke my heart.”

“This is impossible,” you said. “What am I supposed to do now? It's not like I can just... ignore him?” You knew that was the most cowardly option, but you couldn’t face the situation. You didn’t want to face it. The same day you had received the message, you talked to Dylan and let him know that you weren’t really interested in him and that you only saw him as a friend. It had been hard because you really liked him, but you weren’t in love with him. How could you be when your heart only beat for one person? You finished getting dressed, wearing a long blouse as a nightgown, and leaving your hair loose while looking for the hairdryer. You were halfway into your closet when you heard a ring—it was a new notification. Quickly, you picked up your phone, and once again, his name appeared.

Shadow: I’m outside.

Damn it! Why? What did Shadow think he was doing outside your house?

"It’s been a while since I’ve even heard from you," you thought. Carefully, you approached the living room window and peeked through. You could see his car parked right in front of your door. Another notification made you step back from the window. You quickly read the message.

Shadow: Come out.

"I should just tell you to leave 'cause I know exactly where it leads, but I..."

Slowly, you opened the door, finding Shadow leaning against the passenger door. He had his arms crossed, his inhibitory rings glowing in the moonlight, and his eyes… those red eyes, like two rubies, staring at you intensely.

"You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style"

With every step you took towards him, your heart beat even faster. If it weren't for your training as a GUN agent, you probably would’ve suffered an arrhythmia and died right then. Shadow kept his gaze fixed on you, analyzing every move you made. With each step you took, he fought the urge to pull you into his arms. He knew it wasn’t a good idea, that you were angry with him, and although he had promised himself not to bother you again, here he was, once more, in front of your door. But this time, he had the courage to call you. When you were close enough, Shadow stood up and opened the passenger door, nodding for you to get in.

"So it goes He can't keep his wild eyes on the road, mm"

Shadow drove in silence, while you couldn’t stop intertwining and releasing your fingers. Saying you were nervous was an understatement; there wasn’t a word in your vocabulary that could describe the avalanche of emotions you were feeling. You tried to control your breathing, not wanting him to notice, even though it was a stupid thought—there was nothing about you that the ultimate lifeform didn’t notice. You glanced at the dashboard clock. It was past midnight, and you had no idea where Shadow was taking you. You directed your gaze to the hedgehog, but when his eyes met yours, you quickly turned your gaze to the door. If it were possible, you would’ve jumped out of the car right then. Shadow slightly increased the speed, making his car roar as it sped down the tree-lined road. His eyes darted between the road and your face, noticing that you were nervous, and something more—the reddish tint on your cheeks gave you away, and he couldn’t wait to kiss every part of you.

You inhaled and, gathering your courage, broke the silence. “I heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl,” you said, looking down. That was what everyone had been talking about—the new girl who had quickly gained Commander Shadow the Hedgehog’s trust. At first, you didn’t want to believe it, but then you saw the pictures, where he was next to her, a smaller hedgehog, with bright yellow eyes and white fur. You wouldn’t admit it, but that night, you had cried in the bathtub.

Shadow looked at you as he slowed down the car. You had left the city miles behind, and now, you were ridding up the hill. Hesitant, he took the steering wheel with his left hand while placing the other one on your leg, gently caressing it. “What you heard is true, but I can’t stop thinking 'bout you and I.” he said.

“I’ve been there too a few times,” you said without thinking. You didn’t expect to give that response, but Shadow always managed to bring out your true personality. Right there, in his car, with his body so close and his caresses on your skin, you could barely think straight. You looked at him. Shadow had always seemed so damn handsome to you, but seeing him under the moonlight was definitely a religious experience. The sound of the engine accompanied every turn he made with the steering wheel, but it was his gaze that truly dominated the moment. His crimson eyes, deep and mysterious, fixed on the road, while his dark quills seemed to blend with the shadowy interior of the car. If it weren't for the reddish tips, you would’ve sworn they had grown out. His hand never left your leg; instead, his thumb made small circles on your soft skin, and you swore that with that little touch, you swore you could reach the heavens.

"You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt (a tight little skirt) And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style (we never go), we never go out of style"

The ride lasted 15 more minutes until Shadow finally stopped the car at the hill’s lookout. You knew this place; it was where you had your first date, where he first said “I love you,” and where... where you both had spent your first night together. With every memory, the heat increased, and your face felt like it was going to explode.

“I’m sorry,” Shadow murmured, halting the flow of memories that your mind was traveling through. His gaze was fixed on you, his expression had changed. That cold façade he showed the world crumbled before you. “For... everything.” Shadow had never been a fan of apologies. He always tried to find a way to be right, not because he was stubborn or made many mistakes—after all, we were talking about the ultimate lifeform—but he always took responsibility when it came to you. “I know I made you suffer. You have to understand that I... I... wanted to keep you safe, and I only managed to push you away. I didn’t know how. I still don’t... And I know you don’t want me close, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I can’t... I don’t want to be without you.”

That was all it took, his confession to you was all you needed to hear. The air was charged with electricity, and every part of you was begging for his touch. You both stared at each other for a second, and without thinking any longer, you threw yourself at him. Your lips collided with intensity, as if you couldn’t wait any longer, as if time no longer existed. There, in the warmth of the car, only you two existed. Shadow took a second to react, the surprise on his face was undeniable, but it quickly turned into need as he took you by the waist, pulling you even closer, as if he was trying to fuse your body with his. Hands gripped, mouths opened, and the kiss turned into something wild, impetuous, where nothing else mattered.

"Take me home Just take me home"

You placed your hand on his chest, caressing his soft fur gaining a soft growl from the hedghog, you took a chance and pull yourself away from his hungry lips for a second. “… just take me home…” you said as you caught your breath. Shadow pressed his lips together one more time, then pulled away from you, making the engine roar. He drove quickly, the trees blurring into a smear. Throughout the drive, his hand remained intertwined with yours.

"Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like"

When you arrived to his home, your home, Shadow opened your door and took you in his arms bridal style, carrying you inside. Your clothes quickly abandoned your body, decorating the living room, the hallway, and the bedroom.

"And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time"

He carefully laid you on the bed, admiring the view as he positioned himself above you, as if trying to engrave your image in his memory forever. He approached slowly, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your lips, saying how much he loved you after each one. A silent promise was born between you both that day—never again would you be apart... never.

"Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style"

[chheolie]

i think you might be a little disappointed that they are divorced, so here is the second part

it was a quiet morning, and the sun had barely risen on the horizon when you grabbed your phone to check the messages. as you swiped the screen, one notification caught your attention: "reminder: trip to the beach house - d/n’s birthday." your heart tightened as you read those words. the beach house had always been a special place, full of happy memories, but it also held painful ones, especially from the last trip where you and seungcheol were together as a couple. it was there that your relationship came to an end.

even so, you knew that this trip was important, especially for your daughter, who loved that place more than anywhere else. with a deep sigh, you decided to send a message to seungcheol, something you had been putting off for days, fearing what he might say.

"are you going on the trip?" you wrote, hesitantly, feeling the weight of uncertainty in your words.

minutes that felt like hours passed before his reply arrived. when the phone vibrated, you opened the message with a nervousness you couldn’t hide.

"yes, it’s important for her." his words were direct, but they carried a responsibility that both of you shared. although your marriage had ended, the love for your daughter continued to bind you together in an unbreakable way.

on the day of the trip, seungcheol arrived at your house to pick you up. your daughter, as excited as always, ran into her father’s arms with contagious joy. her smile upon seeing him left no doubt that this trip meant a lot to her. as you watched the scene, a mix of emotions washed over you. it was good to see them together, but his presence always brought back memories of what you had lost.

during the drive to the beach house, the atmosphere in the car was strange. your daughter talked nonstop, excited about the weekend plans, but you and seungcheol barely exchanged words. it was hard to ignore the weight of the past, especially knowing that the last time you were at that house as a family was also when you decided to go your separate ways.

when you finally arrived, your daughter ran inside the house, exploring each room as if it was her first time there. for her, that place would always be magical, full of good memories. you and seungcheol began unloading the car in silence, exchanging brief and uncomfortable glances. neither of you knew quite how to act. the silence was almost suffocating, and both seemed hesitant to say anything that might open old wounds.

the next morning, you woke up early, with the first rays of sunlight gently illuminating the house. there was a quiet stillness in the air, broken only by the soft sound of the waves. as you stepped out of the bedroom, you found seungcheol already awake, sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee in his hands. he seemed thoughtful, lost in his own thoughts. for a moment, you considered going back to the bedroom, but you decided to join him, feeling that perhaps it was the right time to talk about what you both had been avoiding for so long.

sitting beside him, you felt the weight of the silence between you, but also a strange sense of peace. the smell of coffee mixed with the salty sea breeze, creating a nostalgic atmosphere. it was then that memories of the last trip came flooding back. you looked out at the horizon, trying to find the right words.

"it was here that everything fell apart, wasn’t it?" your voice came out low, almost fearful, as if reliving that moment could bring back all the pain you had worked so hard to overcome.

seungcheol sighed deeply, without taking his eyes off the sea. "yes, it was here. and i still think about that day, about the things i could have done differently. not a day goes by without me asking myself where exactly things started to go wrong."

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. there was so much regret in his voice, a pain that mirrored your own. "i think about that too... about how everything could have been different. but i think that at the time, we were both so lost, trying to find our own way, that we ended up drifting apart. i felt so alone, even when you were around. like there was an invisible barrier between us."

he turned to you, his eyes showing a vulnerability he rarely let show. "i never wanted to make you feel that way, y/n. but i was so focused on work, on fulfilling all the responsibilities, that i ended up losing you in the process. i didn’t know how to handle the pressure, and it destroyed us."

before the conversation could deepen further, the soft sound of footsteps coming from the bedroom interrupted the moment. your daughter had woken up, bringing with her the vibrant energy of a child full of expectations for the day. seungcheol stood up with a smile, offering to take her for a walk while you stayed home, resting and processing everything that had been said.

hours later, when seungcheol and your daughter returned, you greeted them with a smile, noticing that they were carrying bags of food. your daughter ran up to you, her eyes shining with excitement. "mommy! look what we brought! we got your favorite dessert!" she exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement.

you looked at seungcheol, who gave you a knowing smile, and felt a lump form in your throat. that simple gesture, but full of care, moved you in a way you didn’t expect. for a moment, all the repressed emotions came to the surface, and you found yourself struggling to hold back the tears. but it was useless. the tears began to fall, and you tried to disguise it, smiling at your daughter so she wouldn’t notice.

seungcheol noticed immediately and approached, concerned. "hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of care as he reached out to hold your hand.

you nodded, though your voice faltered as you tried to respond. "yes... it’s just that... this means a lot to me. you both mean a lot to me."

he gently squeezed your hand, his eyes fixed on yours as if he wanted to say something but was choosing his words carefully. the moment was delicate, full of unspoken emotions and feelings that you both were trying to process.

the afternoon unfolded in a series of joyful and simple moments. you cooked together, played on the beach, and for a moment, everything felt like it used to. your daughter’s laughter echoed through the house, and you felt that maybe, just maybe, the weight of the past was finally starting to lift. the atmosphere was light, and it was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, you were so nervous about spending the weekend with him.

when the evening came, you prepared the small birthday party with all the love you could muster. your daughter was radiant, and the house was filled with laughter and music. the table was loaded with sweets and snacks that you had prepared together, and the cake, decorated in her favorite colors, sat in the center, waiting to be cut.

you sang "happy birthday," and the smile on your daughter’s face as she blew out the candles was the highlight of the night. she closed her eyes tightly, making a wish, and then, with a determined puff, blew out the candles. the applause and cheers of "hurray!" echoed through the house, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect. you and seungcheol exchanged glances during the celebration, and there was something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a long time—tenderness and affection that warmed your heart.

after dinner, with full bellies and light hearts, your daughter finally began to show signs of fatigue. she yawned and rubbed her eyes, making you and seungcheol laugh. "i think it’s time for bed, little one," you said softly, as you picked her up, feeling the comforting weight of her against your chest.

seungcheol followed you to her room, where you both tucked her into bed. she snuggled into the blankets, the smile still present on her lips. "it was the best birthday ever," she murmured before closing her eyes and falling asleep. you both stood there in silence for a moment, watching her sleep, both feeling a mix of emotions—love, nostalgia, and something more, something that was bringing you closer again.

when you left the room, the silence that followed was filled with tension, but it wasn’t a bad tension. it was a tension full of possibilities, of things left unsaid. seungcheol closed the door softly, then turned to you. "she was so happy today. thank you for this, y/n."

"i was happy too, cheol," you replied, the nickname slipping out before you could stop it. he had always been "cheol" to you, and in that moment, it felt natural to call him that again.

he smiled, a smile that warmed something inside you. "i missed you," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. "not just because of our daughter, but... you. i missed us."

his words hung in the air, and you knew the moment had come. everything that had been repressed, all the unspoken words and hidden emotions, began to surface. "i missed you too," you confessed, your voice shaky. "but i was so scared, seungcheol... scared that we’d make the same mistakes again."

he took a step towards you, stopping just inches away. "i know i made mistakes, and i’m sorry for all of them. but i never stopped loving you, not for a second. and today, seeing our daughter so happy, here with you... i realized there’s still something between us, something that might be worth fighting for."

you felt your heart race at his words, at the way he was looking at you with such intensity. "are you saying... you want to try again?"

"yes," he whispered, reaching out to gently cup your face. "i want to try again. i want to be a family again. if you still want that too."

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, unable to speak. instead, you closed the distance between you, leaning in until your lips met his. the kiss was soft, tentative, but it held the promise of so much more—a new beginning, a second chance. your bodies molded to one another with an ease that felt natural, as if all the scars and distances between you had never existed.

seungcheol pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist, and you found yourself sinking into that familiar, comforting feeling where the world around you ceased to matter. the warmth of your bodies, the feel of his touch against your skin, all of it stirred memories of times before the divorce, when you were inseparable, when the problems had not yet overshadowed the love you shared.

as the kiss deepened, the passion between the two of you reignited in an almost desperate way, as if you were trying to make up for all the lost time. seungcheol's hands traveled up your back, exploring every curve he knew so well, while you held his face, feeling the softness of his skin under your fingers. there was an urgency in his movements, as if he were trying to imprint himself in your memory, and you felt the same desire to make him understand just how much he still meant to you.

when you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, but neither of you moved away. seungcheol rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, while his fingers remained tangled in your hair. the silence between the two of you was filled with rapid breaths and the sound of hearts beating in unison, as if both of you were trying to absorb what had just happened.

"i love you, y/n. i always have," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion, the truth of his words echoing in the space between you.

you felt tears welling up again, but this time they were not of sadness, but of relief, of a renewed hope seeping into your heart. "i love you too, seungcheol. i always have. but i need to know that we won't lose ourselves again."

he opened his eyes, and what you saw there was a determination you had never seen before. his eyes, dark and intense, showed the depth of what he was feeling, the gravity of the moment. "we won't, y/n," he promised, his voice low but filled with conviction. "we'll do this right, together. for us and for our daughter. i won't let you fall again."

the intensity of his declaration made your heart pound harder. you were there, in a vulnerable place, but it was exactly what you both needed—to remember how perfectly you fit, how you were made for each other, and how, despite everything, that love still existed and was strong enough to survive.

the night continued, not with more words, but with gestures. you both let the feelings speak for themselves, rediscovering each other slowly and carefully. seungcheol's hands traced your contours as if he were rediscovering familiar territory, and at the same time, something entirely new. each touch, each caress, reignited something within you both, an old desire that had never disappeared, only lain dormant.

the intimacy between you was familiar, but there was a new layer of depth, an understanding that both of you had changed and grown, and that now you were ready to try again. the walls you had built, the hurts of the past, all seemed to vanish as you gave yourselves to one another.

when you finally nestled in bed, with seungcheol's arms firmly around you, something inside you settled. his chest was the safe haven you had lost, the place where all your fears and uncertainties seemed to disappear. the past was there, yes, but the future seemed brighter than ever, as if all the broken pieces were finally falling into place.

for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be alright. seungcheol was by your side, and you knew that together, you could overcome anything. he kissed your forehead softly, and the warmth of his touch was the confirmation that this was where you had always meant to be.

i think you would like to be informed that the second part is available. thank you for your support and patience, by the way. ( @kkkthrn @coupsbestleader @minhui896 @bouclesdefeu @lanatheawesome )

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

You Painted Me Golden

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: “So, uh—you can tell me no, but would—do you think I can come see you for Christmas?” Your heart races, you grip the phone tighter while you wait for his answer. Warnings: pov switching, pining, fluff, comfort, smut, masturbation, getting caught masturbating by an ill-timed FaceTime, unprotected p in v sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, aftercare, marijuana, alcohol, naming the concierge after That Thing You Do! Words: 9,250 (I know, it's a lot.)

A/N: This is a VERY long chapter, but a LOT happens and I love these two so much. Thank you to mine and @devineconjuring's 4,000 messages back and forth about them and all of her brainstorming help, there's a beautiful moment between the two of them that she thought of and I can't thank her enough. Also thank you to @schnarfer and @mothandpidgeon for helping their dear, kinda dumb Mallard with some thoughts and wording (DRUG COPS).

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist

*** He tries to stifle a yawn. Call time isn’t until 9, but you’ve been staying up too late to talk to him the past few nights.

You sigh contentedly, his heart thrums faster as you look up at the stars allowing him to look at your beautiful face a little longer.

“God the stars are bright tonight,” you admire.

He glances up, settling his eyes on a twinkling star, he wonders if it’s the same one you’re seeing. He thinks to himself maybe if he stares hard enough, he’ll see the same exact sky you’re seeing.

“He’d never do this with me…” you sigh. “He found looking at the stars boring.”

His heart drops, Warren’s still poisoning your thoughts.

“How could the sky be boring? These stars are millions of years old… they never truly die… they scatter their elements into space creating new stars, planets and life—" he catches himself. “They never end… they recreate themselves and mold themselves into a new existence.”

You smile, your bright eyes looking at him, making his heart shatter like an exploding star.

“Exactly,” you say softly, a glimmer of hope threads through your voice.

His breath catches in his throat yet again swallowing down the words that need to be said.

“Dee?” you say barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you.”

The edge of his mouth lifts in a shy smile. “I miss you too…”

His heart swells with an ache he never felt until he met you. He wants to reach through the screen and pull you close, to feel your warmth against him. But instead, he takes a deep breath and whispers, “I should probably get going, I gotta get ready, we’re filming in Bath, and it’s a three hour trip.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” you reply. The hint of disappointment in your voice makes his heart sink a little lower.

“Today, I'll mostly be sitting in a tent, waiting for my cue to recite a few lines of dialogue. There won't be much excitement happening, so you're not missing out on anything special. But one day, we’ll go and have fun together, Sweets.”

You smile and let out a small chuckle. “I’d love that.”

“Me too,” he softly says.

“Have a good day Dee.” “Have a good night Sweets.”

—-

You close your laptop and let out a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the empty feeling in your heart. The olive tree, adorned with twinkling lights that you carefully strung when you first moved in, glows and glistens in the cool night breeze. You love your backyard, full of the plants and flowers you nourish with your love and care. Warren used to care about the flowers that would bloom, he used to admire the vases full of them you’d place around your house. But then, he stopped. You thought it was you.

Another lonely night in your empty house after yet another long goodbye said to Dieter.

You pause in the kitchen, fingers tracing the smooth marble of your countertop. You begged Warren to let you have dark green cabinets, and he obliged. That was back when it felt like he wanted to make you happy. You chug the rest of your glass of wine, swallowing the sweet liquid down as you gaze at your damn green cabinets. They once represented compromise and shared dreams with Warren. Now they feel like a relic of something lost.

You remember when you first showed Warren this place, your mind alive with ideas on how to renovate and make the home your own. He was a hesitant at first, but your enthusiasm eventually convinced him. You were so excited as you walked through each room, planning out how you would decorate.

You spent days wearing overalls covered in paint learning how to use power tools and refinish hardwood floors. Warren indulged you at first, helping you choose paint colors and hang shelves, but as the years went by, his interest waned in both you and the house you shared. Just as the ghosts of your past life begin to haunt you, you think of Dieter and the way he’d always show his interest in everything you would do around the house. He would admire the new pieces of art you found or surprise you with a new vase he found while he was filming.

You set your empty wine glass in the sink with a soft clink and wander into the living room with Dieter’s words echoing in your mind.

"They never end... they recreate themselves and mold themselves into a new existence." You wonder if that's what you're doing now - scattering the elements of your old life with Warren to create something new.

A soft ping from your phone breaks the all-too-familiar silence. It’s Dieter.

Still thinking about those stars Sweet dreams

His day is only just beginning as your day is ending. Your mind goes through the familiar math of what time he’ll be able to talk again. 9 PM his time, 1 PM yours—along as filming doesn’t go over. It’s been three months.

Three months of distance and longing, of lawyer meetings and splitting of assets, ninety days of only wanting Dieter back next to you.

Three days after he left for London, Dieter tells you his assistant Court has found the best divorce lawyer, and he’s taking care of the bill.

Two weeks after he left for London, Dieter sends you a care package full of your favorite British snacks and a giant plush corgi that now sleeps next to you. You name it Stew, after Jimmy Stewart.

Three weeks after he left for London, you smoke a joint and watch DRUG COPS, the show that made Dieter a household name. You specifically choose the episode where his character brings home the cute girl from the bar and rails her against the wall. It’s been over a month since the last time you touched yourself and even longer since you had sex with Warren. By the time the episode’s credits roll, right after Dieter’s sex scene, your underwear is soaked with your arousal. The night can’t end like this, you need to see his possessive snarl again, so, you pick up the remote and rewind back to the scene. Your hand moves under your pajama pants and feels the wetness between your legs. Desire pools low in your belly when you touch yourself, watching as Dieter kisses down the woman’s neck, his large hands roaming her body. You imagine it’s you.

A soft moan escapes your lips when you stroke yourself, your fingers gliding easily through your slick. Onscreen, Dieter lifts the woman and presses her against the wall and kisses her, grinding his hips into hers. Years ago, you watched this episode with Warren, a cloud of shame existing over you at how turned on you were while watching your husband’s friend. It was almost as if he could sense it, his eyes occasionally flickering over to you while you pretended to be engrossed in your phone, only daring to look at the screen when Warren’s blue eyes weren’t on you. Now, nobody is watching you, you’re free to do whatever you want now… even if that’s rubbing tight circles around your clit while staring at the screen. Your fingers move faster, pressing down harder, chasing the building feeling in your core as you watch Dieter thrust into the actress on screen, his muscular back flexing with each snap of his hips. You imagine what the weight of his body pressing into you would feel like, the scent of him filling your nostrils as he nuzzles into your neck, the sound of his voice whispering filthy things in your ear with his deep voice.

A familiar pressure you haven’t felt in a long time starts to build low in your abdomen as you throw your head back against the couch cushions, your eyes fluttering closed. You can almost feel Dieter’s fingers stroking you.

“Fuck, Dee,” you whimper, your hips lifting off the couch. You’re home alone, you can scream… so you do. “Fuck! Dee!” you shout as your orgasm builds.

And just as you’re about to cum for him—your phone rings.

Dieter Bravo Facetime Video

Fuck.

You grab the remote, pausing the episode as your hand pulls out of your underwear and pick up the phone. You look—well—you look like you were just a couple strokes away from an orgasm.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart as you plaster a calm look across your face. With a slightly trembling finger, you accept the FaceTime call. Dieter's handsome face fills the screen, his brow instantly furrowing with concern at his first look.

"Morning Sweets, you alright? You look a little—overwhelmed," he says.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you stammer, hoping he can't see the sheen of sweat on your skin or your pupils blown wide with arousal. "Just got done with a workout."

His eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face. "A workout, huh?" There's a hint of teasing in his tone. “At 11 PM?”

You laugh nervously, shifting on the couch. The movement causes your robe to slip open wider, revealing more of your heated skin. Dieter's gaze zeroes in on the exposed flesh.

Something shifts in his expression, his eyes darkening as realization dawns. “So—you workout in your robe?” he asks, his eyebrows rising, his voice is low and rough, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“What? No, I—” you start to protest, but the words die in your throat as he leans closer to the camera.

"I think," he says slowly, his voice dropping an octave, "that you were doing a different kind of workout." His eyes bore into yours through the screen, intense and knowing.

You nod, your stare intense.

“Well, uh—with that. I’ll let you go. Call me back when you’re done. I don’t have to leave for set until 9—I’m going to go get my shower and also—work out,” he says with a wink.

A month after he left for London, Dieter has his team deliver four giant skeletons to decorate your yard with after you mentioned you always wanted one but Warren hated them.

On Halloween you hand out candy alone, just like the few years before, but this year the solitude echoes louder each time you close the door.

Six weeks after he left for London, Dieter gulps and gently asks you if you could put a robe on while you’re FaceTiming with him… he’s too distracted by the thin white fabric of your sleep shirt and the glimpses it gives him of the curve of your breasts. You oblige, but fall asleep that night thinking about the way his eyes refused to look away.

On Thanksgiving, you decline invitations from a few of your friends, opting to spend it with your parents up north, where they tiptoe around you and act extra gentle, like the first time you got your heart broken in high school. 

Ten weeks after he left for London, you climb the ladder to your attic, haul out the giant box, and put up your 12’ tall Christmas tree. You set it up and decorate it all by yourself—with a little help from a bottle of wine.

You look at your Christmas tree now, sitting in the corner of your living room, now complete with the pretty ornaments Dieter sent you from your favorite store in London. You can’t imagine spending the holiday with anybody else but him. It’s been three months. You don’t know how much longer you can take it.

You’ve just hung up with him, but now you feel quite brave. Loneliness will sometimes do that to you. So, you pick up your phone and FaceTime Dieter again.

“Hey, long time no talk,” he says with a wink.

“So, uh—you can tell me no, but would—do you think I can come see you for Christmas?”

Your heart races, you grip the phone tighter while you wait for his answer.

His face lights up, a slow grin lifting his lips. “I would never tell you no. In fact, hold on.” He moves through his hotel room, before sitting down at his desk. “Take a look.”

He opens his laptop, and the screen illuminates, displaying a list of flights from Los Angeles to London a week before Christmas.

Tears well in your eyes at the realization that he wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with him.

“I was going to ask you…” he smiles, “I just didn’t know if you would want—”

“I do,” you interrupt your heart fluttering. “I really do.”

“Amazing,” he smiles. “Let’s book it and begin the countdown.”

—-

He won’t be here to welcome you. He knows his schedule is solid, there hasn’t been a day he’s gotten home from set early in years. It kills him, but he knows you understand… you always do.

He orders a giant bouquet of red geraniums and places it on the table in the foyer, it’ll be the first thing you see when you arrive.

He wants everything to be perfect. He can’t bear the thought of you arriving and this hotel suite feeling anything less than a sanctuary for you.

Soon, the two of you will be breathing the same air and close enough to touch. He can hardly believe that you’re traveling almost half way across the globe to stay with him. He fluffs the pillows on the couch, trying to buzz off the nervous energy before his car arrives.

You’re high above the ground right now, flying in first class, something you insisted you didn’t need when he surprised you with the ticket. He would never settle for anything less than the best for you.

He wonders if you’re listening to one of the playlists he made you, if you’re reading a book that makes your nose scrunch up in thought, or if you’re abuzz with nervous energy like he is right now.

He imagines your smile when you first see the geraniums, he can almost hear your laughter ringing across the walls when you see the WELCOME HOME card he’s left propped up against the vase.

He prays he remembers his lines and marks while on set today. The less he screws up, the sooner he’s done with the scenes, and the sooner he’s here, finally back with his golden girl.

—-

You’re seated in the plush backseat of a sleek black car, gliding through the busy streets of London after an eleven hour flight. The city you love passes by in a blur, but you barely notice, your heart is racing as the car gets closer to the hotel. After months of longing and late-night and early morning calls, you’ll finally be with Dieter soon.

As you step out of the car at The Mandarin Hotel in Hyde Park and look up at the tall, brick historic building, the realization hits you that finally, you’re going to walk through the same door as Dieter, and soon, you’ll see his bright eyes in person, no longer miles away on a screen.

You feel like a movie star as the attendants swarm you and grab your bags. Dieter’s concierge, Lamar, greets you with a warm handshake and leads you inside, leading you through the lobby full of gold and jewel tones glimmering in warm chandelier light. You’ve stayed at some beautiful hotels before but this is the most gorgeous place you’ve been.

The elevator ride is quick, and when the doors open, you’re greeted by Dieter’s door.

As you approach the suite, your heart races with excitement. Lamar unlocks the door, stepping aside and gestures for you to enter first.

The first thing that catches your eye is the bouquet of geraniums on the foyer table. You let out a small chuckle at the sight of Dieter’s messy handwriting on the WELCOME HOME card propped up next to the vase. Lamar leads you to the spacious living area full of rich colors and plush furniture. It’ll make the perfect home for the next ten days.

“And where would you like your bags miss?” Lamar asks as you peer out the large french doors that lead to a terrace with a view of Hyde Park.

How do you tell Lamar that you don’t know? That you’re not sure if Dieter wants you with him in his room, or in the guest room?

“Oh, just leave them in the guest room,” you answer, playing it safe. “I’ll take care of them from there. Thank you.”

A bellhop wheels in a golden cart stacked with your bags as Lamar shows you the large kitchen and dining room.

“If you should need any groceries or anything else, please contact the concierge desk, we’re more than happy to help.”

You spot a crystal bowl filled with Kit Kats and can't help but smile as you grab one before leading Lamar out and thanking him and his team for all their help.

As the door clicks shut behind you, the exhaustion from your long flight hits you, along with the excitement of finally seeing Dieter.

You walk over to the table, sticking your nose into the bouquet of flowers and inhaling their sweet scent before picking up Dieter’s card and reading it.

Sweets, "Aren't the geraniums pretty, Professor?" Can’t believe you’re finally here. Make yourself at home and have a cuppa tea. (Look! I’m British!) I’ll be back soon, D

You still have a few hours until you’re expecting Dieter back. The large bathtub in the guest bathroom calls your name.

You slip into the guest bathroom and turn on the faucet, watching the water flow into the deep tub. From your toiletry bag, you grab your favorite bath oil and unscrew the lid, pouring it into the water.

Your clothes drop to the floor, creating a pile on the shiny marble tiles. The warm water instantly soothes your tense muscles as you sink into the tub. Leaning back against the smooth porcelain, you let out a sigh of relaxation and close your eyes.

As your cocooned in the warmth and solitude of your bath, you wonder what Dieter’s doing now. You can only imagine how frustrated he is to not be here with you. You hope it’s not affecting his line reciting.

You wonder what it’ll be like when you see him after three months of daily FaceTime calls, of caring for each other thousands of miles away, of slowly falling even more in love with now your best friend.

You’ve spent every day getting to know each other even more, his big heart and support always filling the gaps of your loneliness. But now, here in London, the distance is nearly gone. Only a couple more hours until you’re reunited.

You finish your bath and wrap yourself in one of the plush robes hanging from a golden hook.

Your bare feet pad against the plush rug as you settle on the large couch in the living room. You’re far too tired to change into anything else. You’ll watch an episode of The Simpsons and then get changed to greet Dieter. You must stay up to combat the damn jet lag.

—-

It feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest when he unlocks the door and swings it open. He hears the faint sound of the TV in the living room. You’re home.

“Swee—” your name stops in his throat when he gets his first sight of you in person after three long months. He forgets how to breathe when he takes in every detail of your sleeping figure: the way your hair spills across the cushion, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the smooth skin of your chest revealed to him from your robe shifting in your slumber. His mouth waters when he sees the curve of your breast.

He quietly steps closer, watching you, trying to allow the image of you to take place in his memory—the curve of your lips, the way the tv shadows dance across your skin, the soft skin of your exposed thigh. You look so perfect, like you’ve always been here for him.

“Sweets,” he says quietly as he inches closer and kneels, his heart pulling him to you.

You slightly awaken at the sound of his voice, your eyes fluttering open before they widen in disbelief and joy.

“Dieter,” you breathe, your voice hoarse with sleep.

He’s no longer just looking at you through a tiny screen; you’re here, flesh and blood and warmth, right in front of him. His golden girl.

“You’re here,” you say as you sit up and stretch your arms above your head, the plush robe shifting even more.

“I am. And you’re here.”

“I missed you,” you confess.

“I missed you too. C-can I hug you? I need to make sure I’m not imagining you.”

You giggle as you nod. “I’m real Dee.”

He smiles wide as he ambles up the couch and pulls you close to his side, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He breathes in your sweet scent of almond and honey. You smell so fucking good and now you’re here with him.

“Well, I was going to take you out for dinner, but then you’d have to change out of that robe,” he smirks.

—-

Dieter sits across from you at the dining room table in his suite, now also clad in a fluffy robe to match you.

Frank Ocean softly croons through the speakers as you take a final bite of your sticky toffee pudding. You feel like you’re in heaven, the past couple of months and the loneliness and heartbreak all seem worth it for this perfect moment.

“Where are your bags?” Dieter asks sparking a joint, obviously too famous and rich for rules posted on the back of the door of his luxury hotel suite.

“They’re in the guest room,” you casually respond as you watch him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“Oh,” he pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You’re welcome to stay in my room… with me.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” you reply as you take the joint from his outstretched hand and take a hit. His eyes soften as he watches you and he leans back in his chair.

“Overstep? Sweets, this is your home for the next couple of weeks. It’s not overstepping, it’s where I want you to be… if it’s where you want to be.”

His warmth wraps around you even more than the robe you wear.

“It is,” you softly respond.

“I’ve been counting down the days until I could wake up next to you again,” he confesses, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the table.

“Then I guess we need to move my luggage.”

—-

He gives you the top two drawers of his dresser, he wonders if you noticed that they were already cleaned out for you. He hangs your sweaters up next to his clothes in his closet, he loves how his clothes look next to yours.

Your toothbrush is now next to his, your favorite lotion sits on the nightstand, and your purse sits on the console table next to the door.

For the next ten days he gets to pretend like you live together, here in this fancy London hotel suite. He almost suggests to you going to bed early, only so he can hold you close.

“So,” you say, zipping up your suitcase. “What kind of cartoons does this hotel get?”

He grins. “I’ve become an expert at British cartoon schedules.”

“Great!” you say, pulling down the comforter and climbing into his bed. “Is it okay if we watch them in here?”

Once again, you’ve read his mind. He smiles as he gets in next to you. You take advantage of the bed dipping and scoot next to him, laying your head on his chest.

“Is this okay?” you ask. “I’ve missed this.”

He wonders if you can feel the beat of his heart thrum for you. “It’s more than okay. I’ve missed it too.”

—-

The hum of the shower filters through the hotel room as you lay in bed, thankful that Britain gets episodes of Bob’s Burgers.

You catch glimpses of Dieter’s shadow through the frosted bathroom door as he moves about. It all feels so intimate and yet familiar, like you’ve always belonged right here with him.

Exhaustion weighs down your body as you settle deeper into the luxurious bed. Finally, you’re with Dieter again.

The door creaks open, your heartbeat quickens when he finally steps out, clad in only a pair of low slung pajama pants. His golden skin gleams in the changing shadows being cast from the tv. His hair is slicked back, his handsome face that you’ve missed so much is on full display as he lifts the blanket and slides in beside you.

“Hey,” he says softly, a tired smile stretching across his lips as he leans on one elbow looking down at you with searching eyes.

“Hi,” you whisper. He smells so good and fresh—like eucalyptus and citrus.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I am too.”

His smile fades for a moment, replaced by a look of something deeper, a look that mirrors your own.

You scoot closer, your bodies gently touching beneath the covers. The warmth of him seeps into you, the last remnants of loneliness from back home dissipating as you fall asleep, finally, in his arms.

—-

You softly breathe in your sleep, he can hardly believe you’re finally here. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle sounds you let out as you slumber. Your lips are parted, the same lips he’s been craving to kiss since he left your home three months ago. The high moonlight shines in from the large windows that lead to the large terrace where he would often sit and miss you. Now, you’re here… finally and it all feels like a dream.

The loneliness was often too much for him, causing him to decline invitations to parties from friends or dinners with co-stars just to spend an hour talking to you.

Everything feels right as you cuddle in closer next to him in your sleep. The ache of longing has now transformed into something softer and warm. He brushes his fingers lightly over your arm, tracing invisible patterns on your skin, careful not to wake you. He loves watching you sleep, you look so peaceful, free from the worry and doubt that your soon-to-be ex-husband has poisoned you with. Just being near you makes him feel complete; he feels like the luckiest man on earth, having his golden girl back in his arms.

He closes his eyes and drifts to sleep, now no longer having to dream of holding you. 

—-

“Sweets.” A whisper of a deep voice against your ear gently rumbles you awake. “I gotta get going.”

Your eyes open to Dieter, a soft smile lifts his face in the early morning light. It’s the most beautiful thing to wake up to.

"Oh,” you yawn. “I’ll walk you out.”

You lift off the covers and take his outstretched hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently pulls you to your feet.

He holds your hand all the way to the door of the suite, before turning to you, reluctance weighing his features.

“I don’t want to go, you just got here,” he whines.

You chuckle, straightening the collar of his jacket. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” you assure. “Now go.”

He sighs before leaning in and leaving a kiss against your forehead. He slightly pulls away, his dark brown eyes staring into yours before they flicker down to your lips. You take a breath, inhaling the scent of him.

HIs eyes linger on your lips, his breath warm against your skin. Time slows as he leans in, closing the distance between you. His lips brush yours softly, tentative and questioning. You respond, pressing closer, and suddenly, just like that, after all the years of pent up longing and stolen glances…

His mouth captures yours fully and urgently. The plush lips you’ve imagined kissing again cover yours. His hands you’ve dreamed of feeling on your body come up to cradle your face, his body you’ve craved to feel backs yours against the wall. His tongue seeks entrance to your mouth and you allow it, parting your lips with a soft gasp. He groans, the sound vibrating through your body as you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

His lips move against yours, his hands sliding down to your waist, his thick fingers splaying against your back as he pulls you flush against him. A soft moan escapes your lips as his tongue sweeps across yours. His stubble rasps against your skin as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your fingers tighten around the waves of his hair as he nips and sucks at your pulse. You tug at his hair, a low groan escapes from his throat as he kisses his way back to your lips.

Every lick of his tongue into your mouth, every shared moan, every touch of his skin against yours, this is what you’ve wanted ever since that first night, ever since the first time his lips met yours in that dim dive bar.

A sharp ring breaks through your kiss. Dieter’s phone rings insistently nearby on the table by the door. His body tenses against yours before pulling back reluctantly.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath, glancing at the offending device.

“You should get it,” you suggest softly, your heart sinking.

With a resigned sigh, he releases you and steps towards the table. He swipes to answer, you watch him, marveling at how close he is, how real all of this feels. Finally.

“Yeah, I know, I’ll be down right now,” he says into the phone, grumbling as he hangs up without a salutation.

He turns to you, his eyes rounding in apology. “I’m so sorry Sweets, the car service has been waiting for me.”

“I know. Go. I’ll be here.”

His eyes bat between the door and you, before he sighs, walks over, and grabs your chin leaving a searing kiss against your lips.

“I’ll be back by 7, go down to the spa, spend the day pampering yourself, charge it to the room.”

You smile, leaning in to give him another kiss. “I will. Thank you. Now, go, before they call again.”

“Bye Sweets, have a good day.”

—-

The door clicks behind him as he steps out into the hallway, he can’t hide the huge smile on his face as he makes his way to the elevator. Your lips, goodness, your lips, your sleep rumpled face, your body underneath his shirt, he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

The elevator door closes as he leans against the polished golden metal, his heart still racing with the remnants of your kiss. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste of you still on his lips.

The elevator descends to the lobby, he feels the distance stretch between you, but it’s different now, this distance is hopeful and wishing, the type of distance that he knows is only temporary.

He wanted to stay and never leave you, but duty calls louder than desire, and he knows this role is huge for him.

The elevator dings softly as it reaches the ground floor and Dieter steps out into the bustling lobby. Lamar greets him with a smile and leads him to the waiting car.

“Is there anything you need today sir?” Lamar asks.

“Just make sure my girl is taken care of,” Dieter catches himself as he calls you his girl. “Everything gets charged to my room.” “Of course Mr. Bravo,” Lamar nods with a knowing smile as he closes the car door.

—-

You do as Dieter tells you. You spend your first day in London treating yourself to a day at the fancy hotel spa. Once you’re relaxed and pampered, you take yourself out for afternoon tea at Rosebery, the bright and airy cafe in the hotel. You’re used to taking yourself out to meals, enjoying the peaceful solitude of your own company and a book, but today feels different. Later Dieter will be back and peaceful solitude will be traded for peaceful companionship.

The whole hotel is gorgeous, you truly feel special here, like a character from one of the classic movies you've watched a million times. You've been whisked away to another country by the handsome, ultra famous movie star who you think you’re falling in love with—and you think he might just feel the same way about you.

—-

His driver drives down the same streets and drops him off at the same entrance after another long day on set, except now it’s different. This fancy hotel has been his home for the past three months. Sure, he has a stocked fridge, a comfortable bed, and his clothes in the closet… but it was still missing you. Now, as the doorman opens his door, he feels like he’s at home, because now, he’s only ten floors away from you.

He practically jogs through the lobby to catch the next elevator.

Eight floors away. Six floors away. Four floors away. One floor away.

Home.

He makes his way across the hall to the door he’s opened every single day he’s been here. The vase of geraniums still sit on the entranceway table overflowing with pretty crimsom blooms. He blinks twice when he sees you awake on the couch, looking at your phone.

He forgers how to breathe when you look up towards him with a smile. The sight of you, after a long day, sends warmth pooling through his whole body… better than any drug or drink he’s ever had. The lamp near you casts your body in a golden hue, he swears you look like a golden goddess.

“Hey you,” you say, a cosy grin spread across your lips. “Welcome back.”

You stand to meet him half way. The space between you quickly disappears as he strides over, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He feels your body melt against him.

"I missed you,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back.

He takes a step back to admire you, taking in the sight of you—your face fresh and dewy from your spa day. “You look incredible,” he says, a hint of awe in his voice.

You shyly look down. “Thank you.”

He reaches out and gently holds your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips and leaning forward.

He kisses you again. He can’t resist the softness of your lips, the feel of your tongue against his, the little sounds you make… it’s all he’s thought about today. Three times now, he’s kissed you. He feels a sense of possessiveness as you let a small sigh out. He knew it all those years ago, that one he has tasted the sweetness of your lips, no one will ever compare.

His hands travel down to your waist, lightly brushing against the ties of your robe. He wants to pull them apart so badly, but he resists. He pulls back, breathless and slightly dazed. Your head finds its home against his chest. “So, how was your day?” he asks.

“Lovely, wonderful, super relaxing,” you reply, lifting your chin to meet his eyes again. “The spa was amazing and I felt so spoiled. It felt… surreal.”

“Surreal is good,” he replies with a smirk.

“I like surreal,” you respond.

“Oh! Look at my manicure!” you say, stepping back and proudly holding out your hands for his inspection.

He chuckles softly, tracing a finger tip along one of your nails. “They look like the sky.”

“Yep! And the stars glow in the dark,” you respond proudly.

His heart swells at how happy and relaxed you look. There have been far too many days that he would worry about you, hoping you’re happy and smiling, never quite sure of how you’re feeling. But today, as you stand before him, glowing with a wide smile on your face, he knows that you are truly happy in this moment.

“I’m starving. Do you want to just order room service or do you want to go out tonight?”

“If we stay here, I can keep my robe on,” you sheepishly respond.

“Then go ahead and order the food while I’ll go change into mine,” he says with a wink.

He hasn’t felt this happy in so long.

—-

Another delicious meal, another delicious bowl of sticky toffee pudding, another shared joint between the two of you.

“God,” you happily sigh pushing the empty dessert plate away from you. “I could eat that for every single meal.”

He chuckles, his head shaking back and forth, the way he looks at you is foreign, like you truly are the center of his world. A look you haven’t seen in years.

You’re halfway across the world from your comfortable dream home filled with all of your furniture, plush blankets, and treasures—yet right here, across the table from Dieter, feels more like home than your house has in years.

“I’ve been thinking, and tell me no if you don’t want to, but I think we should watch The Philadelphia Story tonight. Just so we can have a happy memory with it. But again you don’t have to do i—”

“That sounds amazing, Dee, I love it,” you say.

You realize you’re madly in love with him as he rises from the table and offers his hand to you with a doting smile.

—-

“No, you're made out of flesh and blood. That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Tracy.” Dieter recites the lines along to the movie, drawing your attention. “Full of life and warmth and delight. What goes on? You've got tears in your eyes.”

He looks over at you and… you do have tears in your eyes.

The look on your face… your wide eyes, wet with tears you have yet to shed, your mouth agape as you blink at him, the small smile that’s beginning to lift your lips.

He wants to tell you everything, he feels like he finally can now after years of staying silent and trying to escape the feelings he holds for you—but first he needs to know one thing.

“Do you still love him?” he asks, shocking himself at his earnest question.

“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t think I’ve loved him for awhile, honestly. Do you still love Anika?”

“No,” he mimics your head shake. “I don’t know if I ever did.”

“Then why did you marry her?”

“Because,” he swallows ready to bare his soul to you. “I couldn’t have you.”

He watches you process his words, your brow furrowing slightly as a wave of understanding washes over you. The truth lingers in the air poignant and thick. He feels his heart constrict at the thought of what could have been—what should have been. The ache he’d always feel when Warren would touch you, kiss you, hold you. He leans closer, compelled by the invisible force that draws him into your orbit.

“You’re my golden girl sweets,” he admits, a tremor in his voice as he reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “Ever since that night in that dive bar.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, as you search his face, a tear falling down your cheek. “For that long?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, wiping your tear away with the pad of his thumb. “For that long,” he responds with a shy smile.

He doesn’t even have time to second guess his confession, before you leap on him, straddling his body and pressing your lips against his. He embraces you, reveling in the feeling of your body against his. His body feels aflame, your need for him igniting the long smoldering burn for you within him.

You let out a soft moan as your hands slide under his robe, eagerly exploring his chest. He’s never felt your touch this way, his hips tilt up towards the heat of you still concealed by the fluffy fabric. You meet his hips, grinding down on top of him.

Ever since he first saw you, he’s wondered what this would feel like, what you would sound like, how your body would feel against his. He pulls away slightly, breathless, searching your eyes seeking reassurance after a decade of wanting you. “Are you sure?” he asks, vulnerability etched on his face.

“Dee,” you pant, “I want you.”

“God,” he says, his head tilting back to hit the couch. “That’s all I’ve needed to hear.”

You lean forward against him, leaving kisses along his neck up towards his jawline, your tongue darting out to lick a line across the strong angle of it to his mouth.

Your tongue finds his as you melt against him even more, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, erasing every distance that has ever laid between you. The only thing that lies between him and your naked body is a robe.

He pulls away, sitting up and helping you to stand. He quirks an eyebrow up at you asking for silent permission as he grabs the tie of your robe. You nod with a sweet smile, and as the robe loosens, your skin is slowly revealed to him. His breath leaves his body when you shrug the fabric off, the robe pooling behind you. His golden girl now stands bare before him, only clad in pair of dark blue panties. The glow of the lamp behind you lights your skin. You’re ethereal, like a goddess he’d pray to, backlit by the golden glow. You are his golden girl.

“Fuck…” he murmurs, his robe barely covering his hardness for you as you step towards him. There have been too many dreams to count like this that he’s woken up from, hard and leaking. He pinches his arm.

“Huh?” you ask, a look of shock crossing your face.

“I’m just making sure this is real,” he responds.

You giggle, as you settle yourself back on his lap.

“It’s real,” you whisper against his mouth before leaving a kiss against it and reaching down to untie the ties of his robe. He recognizes the look on your face as he shuffles out of the robe… want, need, lust.

Finally, your lace meets his cotton. It used to be circumstances and empty marriages separating you, now it’s just two pieces of thin fabric.

You press your body against him with desperate force, pushing over the boundary long since established by regret. For once, he feels like he’s not just holding onto the dream of you, but living it—a reality where he can finally hold you near and tell you everything he wants to say.

He wants you, he needs you, he’s thought of this so many times before—but not here on this couch.

“Baby—” he says against your lips, catching your attention. “Bedroom.”

You let out a frustrated groan, your hair tousled and lips swollen. You scoot off him and stand, panting for air with wild eyes. You’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen.

—-

With your fingers intertwined, you lead him into the bedroom. Your heart is racing, you haven’t been with anybody since Warren—and now, here in London, you’re leading Dieter fucking Bravo to the bed. As soon as you both step past the threshold, he turns and presses your overheated skin against the cool wall. His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss, his strong hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him.

Every touch lights something within you that you didn’t know existed before. Your head falls back as he trails kisses down your neck, nipping at your skin as he moves lower and lower.

“Dieter,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moves lower, his lips trailing down your collarbone towards your chest.

“Baby,” he whispers before forming his mouth over your breast and lightly sucking on your nipple. Not Sweets, not Golden Girl, just baby.

His tongue explores the familiar lines of your body like a map he’s memorized yet never navigated. He moves to the floor, kissing down your stomach, past the thin strap of your underwear to the birthmark on your hip shaped like a comet.

He looks up at you, big brown eyes lit with adorations stare into yours. There’s a look you can name, it’s the look you’ve secretly wanted ever since you met him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with awe before he kisses against your birthmark and traces the shape of it with his tongue.

His hands slide up your ass to the waistband of your underwear, with one easy movement, he pulls the lace down your legs, leaving you bare for him.

“Goddamn baby,” he whispers, voice full of awe, his hot breath tickling your skin. “Perfect, I knew it.”

You gasp as he pushes you flush against his mouth, his lips finding their way between your thighs, inhaling the scent of you, his eyes fluttering shut as his tongue finally tastes you.

You moan loudly, arching into him. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady for him. A sound escapes him, a mix between a groan and sigh.

“Fuck baby,” he whispers against you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him closer and deeper.

“Dee,” you gasp as he kisses and sucks against your clit. He savors you, worships you, as if every dash and flick of his tongue against you imparts the knowledge of how he’s always felt about you.

Your legs begin to tremble, your hands gripping against his hair tighter to help you stay upright. His tongue swirls and teases against you, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thigh. Lately, your fantasies have been filled with thoughts of how his plush lips would feel against you, how his tongue would taste you, and now that you have it, it’s everything you wanted it to be.

You gaze down at him, tension coiling in your belly and goosebumps prickling across your skin. He feels your eyes on him and looks up at you with hungry, desperate eyes, groaning against you. His brows knit together in concentration as he explores every inch of you with his tongue, each stroke feeling like a deep confession against your pussy.

You pull against his hair, catching his attention, his eyes wide and mouth glistening.

“Bed,” you plead.

“Okay baby,” he nods before standing and giving you a kiss that leaves the taste of you on your lips.

He leads you to the bed, his large hand in yours, gently guiding you.

With every step a new memory of him all those years ago flood your mind. He was the charming young actor who used to be your husband's best friend. Yet, there was always a spark between you two that seemed to ignite whenever your eyes met. It's been far too long, and you've endured too much sadness in your loveless marriage. Now, as you lay on the soft sheets of a luxurious hotel bed in London, there is a sense of liberation and anticipation. After months of taking care of yourself and years of longing for Dieter...you lie naked on the bed, ready and eagerly waiting for him to take you.

He reaches over to the bedside table and pulls out a box of condoms.

“Dee?” you ask, as curiosity gets the best of you.

“When’s the last time y-you—”

“Not since before you called me that night,” he reveals, his brown eyes deep as they stare into yours. Your heart races at his confession; all this time you assumed he was still sleeping around, what with him being a famous Hollywood star and all. “I’ve been waiting for you baby.”

“Dee, I have an IUD,” you smile.

“Amazing,” he grins, tossing the box behind him before hopping onto the bed and smothering you with his body.

He leaves a trail of playful, wet kisses across your face, each one eliciting a giddy giggle. You haven’t made this noise or felt this light and carefree in years - and you’re naked in bed with the best man of your wedding. The irony is not lost on you.

He pulls away, the playfulness of the moment quickly replaced by lust when you feel his hardness pressed against you. Only one more layer to go until he’s fully exposed to you.

“Off,” you say, tugging at the cotton of his boxers.

He rises to kneel, his hard cock straining against the fabric.

“Be my guest baby,” he grins, a playful glint in his eyes.

You bite your lip, eyes locked with his as you reach for the waistband of his boxers, slowly tugging them down, revealing his cock.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, unable to stop yourself from admiring how beautiful his cock his.

He tilts his head down and watches as your hand swipes across the wide tip of him, collecting the bead of precum and smearing it across the head. He’s so thick.

“Fucking hell,” he groans. “I can’t believe this.”

He pinches himself again, earning a giggle from you as you admire his naked body.

Broad everywhere and golden skinned… you can’t believe you ever wanted anybody else.

Dieter’s lips find yours again, kissing you deeply as his hands roam over your body, his fingers trailing down your stomach, achingly close to where you need to feel him the most.

“Dee,” you gasp against his lips, arching into his touch. His fingers swipe against the wetness you’ve been spilling out for him before slipping one inside, eliciting a long, low moan from you.

With each slow stroke, he watches your reaction, a glimmer of fascination illuminating his eyes as you arch your back and gasp.

“God, baby, you’re so wet,” he whispers against your neck, his free hand gently squeezing your breast before teasing your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You rock against him, hips meeting his hand, needing more from him.

“Need you Dee,” you whimper, as his thumb swirls against your clit.

“I need you too,” he growls, removing his hand and positioning himself at your entrance.

Your hips arch, inviting him in. You’re gasping for air, years and years of anticipation, of an innocent crush, of wanting somebody you thought you could never have and now, now, he enters you with one swift thrust, filling you completely, stretching you in ways you’d forgotten possible. Finally, you’re connected to him in such an intimate way. He moves slowly at first, gently rocking in and out. Your hands grip onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his golden skin as his thrusts slowly and achingly hit deeper.

“Fuck,” he pants, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold back the barrage of sensations flooding through him. “You’re so tight.”

His steady strokes meeting with your gasps and moans echo across the large hotel room. Your body moves with his, your hands roaming across his chest before wrapping your fingers around his fluffy hair.

“Dee,” you moan, unable to form any other words as every nerve in your body is lit by him.

He leans forward, sealing his mouth over yours, swallowing every sound you moan for him.

“For so long,” he whispers against your lips. “Wanted this for so long.”

The heat between you builds until it’s almost unbearable, you’re getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me baby,” Dieter strains. “I want to feel you cum for me.”

He thrusts in and out of you slow and steady and with one final thrust, your orgasm blasts through you like an exploding star. You’re a supernova colliding down to earth and shattering into molten golden bits. Your walls clench around Dieter’s cock, as you cry his name over and over.

Your body shudders beneath him, fingernails digging into his back, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

He gazes down at you in awe, watching your face contort in ecstasy, feeling your walls flutter and clench around him, drawing him in deeper.

"That's it, baby," he coos. "Cum for me. You're so beautiful."

He kisses you as he edges himself closer, your body feels as if it’s still glowing as he pounds into your pussy.

“Fuck, I knew iiit,” Dieter grits as he follows soon after, his body trembling above you, a cascade of warmth flooding inside as he releases himself with a deep, primal groan.

You’re lost in each other, suspended in this one moment—a universe now made of your shared breaths and gentle kisses.

Dieter’s weight presses gently on you, a pulse of a feeling you haven’t felt in so long beats through your heart.

He kisses your forehead before rolling off of you. You turn on your side to face him, studying his features in the low light. The gentle wave of his hair, the slight curl of his lips as he drifts in and out of bliss. A smile creeps onto your face, a mix of disbelief and joy.

He rises on shaky legs, his dark brown hair tousled, a dopey grin on his face. “Be right back.”

You giggle at the surreality when he moves across the room with his naked body on full display. The muscles of his back flex as he walks, and you take the opportunity to admire the curve of his ass. Damn. He’s perfect.

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the soft rush of water from the faucet. Damn. He’s thoughtful.

He’s no longer just your friend or the famous movie star. He’s now something so much more to you, especially as he returns, naked and unabashed, moving towards you with such tender purpose.

A warm damp towel rests in his hand as he approaches the bed. The mattress dips slightly under his weight as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Spread for me baby,” he gently says.

You’re not even shy as his eyes roam your naked body still loose and glowing from your orgasm.

You spread your legs and he gulps. “Amazing,” he says with reverence as his cum drips out of you. He gently cleans you, his brows knit in concentration, his brown eyes focused on the task.

He tosses the rag on top of his boxers before sliding back into bed next to you. His warm body presses against yours as he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close.

His earring glistens in the soft light of the bedside lamp. It beckons you, but now, you can finally touch it with zero fear. Your finger traces the golden shape of it, before trailing down to the stubble on his jaw. He turns his head, pressing a soft kiss to your palm.

“Surreal is good,” you echo his words from earlier.

“Mm,” he hums, his big brown eyes looking at you with deep affection. “In fact, I think I love surreal.”

---

A/N: Hi, yes, hello. Things are happening. I'm working on the next chapter right now, and that'll be the festive Christmas/New Years chapter. It'll be post holiday time. Thank you, as always for reading, and (hopefully) loving these two just as much as me.

[st7rnioioss]

*ೃ༄ we fell in love in october

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt sturniolo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt finally confess your mutual feelings - even during you boths favorite season!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, friends to lovers, kissing

a/n: hiii everyoneee. i literally just realised i reached 1.4k, thats fucking insane, thank you so so much. i love this request, had a lot of fun, thank you!!!

this is based off this request!

───────── 🐇 Matt was walking beside you up to your house. You had just been driving around the area, talking about all sorts of topics. From high school to work to your personal lives.

“Thanks for walking me home, Matt. It was nice spending time with you today,” you smiled sincerely, pulling him in for a hug as you reached your front porch.

“It’s my pleasure. I had a lot of fun as well,” he chuckled, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you closer. A bit too close for people who consider themselves ‘just friends’. You pulled away with a bright smile, letting your hand linger on the back of his neck for just a moment.

“You look nice tonight, by the way. I think I kinda forgot to tell you, but I really like that dress,” he laughed nervously, scratching his head. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, the single compliment making your cheeks turn a faint pink color.

“Thank you! It’s uh- It’s new actually.” you looked down on yourself, tugging at the end of the floral dress you were wearing. “You look great too,” you nodded with a shy smile, pointing to him.

Matt couldn’t stop smiling. He simply just found you adorable to say the least.

"Thanks,” he beamed, looking back up from your dress to meet your eyes. “Well uh- I should go, it’s getting late. I’ll see you soon, okay?” he smiled, taking a tiny step backwards.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Goodnight, Matt.” you waved, also taking a small step back, trying not to trip over the stairs right behind you.

-

The old door to your house creaked as you pushed it open. You were kind of tired from hanging out with Matt all day, not that it had anything to do with him. It was just getting late. 

You had gone shopping, had lunch, fed ducks at the lake, went for a late night drive, and overall just enjoyed each other's company.

Matt had been your best friend since forever. You met somewhere during junior year in high school, and after that you hadn’t been seen separately. After a few months into senior year you realized you had developed a tiny crush on Matt. That didn’t change though. You were still in love with him to this day.

Matt and his brothers started a YouTube career, and you found a job in a bakery that also sold all kinds of flowers. Because of that, you always had a few bouquets standing around and outside your home, the color and type of flower changing depending on the season and vibe you wanted to go for.

For the past week you had white heliotrope.

You placed your phone and keys on your kitchen counter, slipping out of your coat and shoes after having been out in the chilly weather all day.

A small vibration came from your phone, the screen lighting up. It was a message from Matt.

‘Can I come over tomorrow?’ it read. Matt always wanted to be around you, specifically in your house. He almost loved it more than you did. You quickly picked up the phone, positioning yourself on the kitchen counter to answer him immediately with a 

‘Yes, of course :) We can watch that movie you were talking about if you want’.

‘Yeah, I’d love that. See you tomorrow then!’

You smiled to yourself, turning off your phone as you got down from the counter.

The small house you lived in was quite cozy. There wasn’t much electrical light, most of it being from either the fireplace or the candles you had propped up everywhere, or a lamp that had the same orange light as the candles. You paced around, lighting each and every candle that was in the kitchen and living room, creating a soft orange-like light. On top of that, the faint smell of cinnamon and apple made it even better. It wasn’t too artificial of a smell, not making people literally gag when they walked in. Matt seemed to like it a lot.

-

The next morning you woke up to the sunlight through your gingham curtain. Your friends found the curtains absolutely horrible, but you liked the vibe of the red and white. It just suited the rest of your interior.

Your phone had a message from Matt, asking if it was okay to come over around 8, since he was filming a video with his brothers. You replied with a ‘Yes, that’s perfect’, making your way downstairs to make breakfast.

-

At around 7.30pm you still had no idea what to put on. Not that it mattered, Matt had seen you in all sorts of situations, but it was something you relied a lot on.

You settled on something cozy but casual, knowing you were gonna watch a movie, so jeans would probably get uncomfortable. The makeup you had put on a few hours ago needed a touch up, as well as your hair.

That took you just the right amount of time, because right as you went downstairs to light the candles, there was a knock on the door. You rushed up to it, looking at your hair in the mirror before opening the door, revealing Matt.

“Hi, Matt! Come on in!” you smiled, opening the door further for him to get inside. You could swear he was lingering his gaze just a little too long on you, but you were pulled out of your thoughts when Matt leaned in to hug you.

“Hey, thanks for letting me come over, you know how much I love your place,” he smiled, letting you go as he took off his jacket. You just smiled back in return, making your way to the kitchen.

“So uh- Do you want to bake some cookies before starting the movie?” you smiled shyly, holding up a bowl in front of you.

His face lit up, and you took that as a yes.

-

After way too long, the cookies were finally done. With that being said, it took you a few throws of flour, way too many jokes, a shit ton of chocolate chips eaten from the bag, and a bunch of laughter.

“Oh my god, they look fucking delicious,” you smiled, pressing your nose up against the oven to get a look on the cookies.

“Really? Let me see, move,” he giggled, pushing you gently to the side with his hands on each side of your waist. Your face turned beet red, avoiding looking him up in the eyes, only erupting a quiet chuckle.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. I think we did an amazing job,” he raised his brows, letting one hand go of you to reach out for a high-five.

-

“Wait, was it this one? Friday the 13th, the 2009 one?” you asked, scrolling through the insane amount of horror movies on Netflix. Matt nodded with a hum, his mouth too filled with cookies to answer you verbally. You pressed start, leaning back against the headboard of your bed. Matt wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer under the stupid amount of blankets, making you smile to yourself.

The window to your room was open, letting a view of a beautiful, now orange, tree standing in your backyard show. Matt had helped you light a few candles, the usual cinnamon-apple ones. Your normally neat bed was now completely messy, a duvet, blankets, and pillows resting everywhere.

Matt’s heart was practically beating out of his chest. He, too, had always had the biggest, fattest crush on you. Even holding you this close made his head spin. You were caught up with the start of the movie, but Matt sure as hell wasn’t. Even though he seemed relaxed enough to you, he was tense, trying to think of anything else but you, but it seemed far from possible to him. He needed to do something.

About 40 minutes into the movie, he turned body to you.

“Hey- uh. Can I just tell you something really quick?” he stuttered, positioning his body so he was facing you. You nodded, taking the cup of tea from your lips to place it on your nightstand.

“Sure, what’s up?” you smiled back at him, letting your eyes wander from his hair to his eyes, now rosy cheeks and lips, taking in all his features.

“It’s just- I’m sorry if this is sudden I just-” he stopped, sighing as he couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“I really like you. Not just as a friend, I really really want to take you out. Fuck, you know, I like you like you,” he giggled, the words were flying out of his words. Your eyes were wide, lips slightly parted from the sudden confession.

“I’m in love with you, and I just wanted to let you know.” he finally stopped speaking, allowing you to speak as well.

“You have got to be kidding me. Oh my God, I-” you started laughing. Matt was slightly confused.

“What? Sorry, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, it’s totally fine if you don’t like me back, I just thought-” you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. Quickly, you pulled back to watch his reaction. 

You simply couldn’t stop yourself from giggling nervously, cheeks turning completely red. He didn’t say anything, he just simply stared in disbelief.

“Why did you stop?” he whispered, his eyes lingering on your lips. His hands found his way to the back of your neck, lacing his fingers through your hair.

“Sorry, I don’t know. It just seemed surreal for a second,” you laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. With that, he pulled you closer by your neck, sealing his lips with yours once again. This time, he was not ready to pull back anytime soon.

His hands roamed around the back of your head, holding your head as close as possible. He had been waiting for you for years. Your hands were on him as well. One cupping his cheek, the other resting on his shoulder. It took you a minute to pull back, simply craving air.

You looked up at him, a goofy smile appearing on both your faces while you both panted.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve stopped myself from doing that,” Matt admitted, keeping your hands on each other.

“Me too. I think I figured out I liked you during an English class. I literally sprinted home to write all my overthinking down in my diary,” you giggled, leaning closer into him to hug him.

He immediately melted into your touch, resting his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your sweet scent. The one he never got tired of.

“Can you kiss me again? I’m not wasting one minute after waiting for this long,” he chuckled, cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Matt, you don’t have to ask, just do it,” you laughed at his adorable question, but you gave in anyway, leaning up once more to kiss him from his cheek to finally seal the distance between your lips again.

And that’s basically how the night went. Movie still playing in the background, nearing the end, Matt leaning over you, leaving kisses on the sides of your face, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck, collarbone, any place imaginable. The candles were about to burn out, your cup of tea getting cold from not being drinked in the past 30 minutes.

To no one's surprise, he ended up staying over for the rest of the night.

a/n: stop why am i literally craving fall right now. wheres the rest of the "i hate summer" people at.

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn let me know if you'd like to be added!

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hii India, sorry, but I’m kinda stalking you right now 🤭

https://www.tumblr.com/indiaalphawhiskey/682780411223490560/here-again-the-thief-of-anons-harry-stunting-i?source=share

I found this post (it’s a bit old) but what you said really caught my attention.

I left in 2021, right when the worst stunt was just starting, and I came back to twitter and tmblr a few months ago. And what I found when I came back was this sort of radicalization around H’s image, and I wonder if it has to do with how, in the past few years, he’s become more publicly closed off—and that’s kind of allowed this "blank slate persona" to take over, to the point where even some fans now doubt him or see him in a black-and-white way.

I mean, back then Harry was mostly loved by the public and obviously within the fandom too. But now it’s not just the public—even some fans are calling him fake, privileged, etc. And others just have a difficult time connecting with him saying he's not genuine anymore.

And honestly, it’s sad to see. But I don’t blame Harry for choosing to distance himself or compartmentalize parts of his life. Even though he used that phrase mostly to avoid talking about his love life in public, I feel like it’s something he’s actually stuck to.

Like you said, when a big part of your career depends on an image that’s not real—and on top of that, it’s basically covering up one of the most valuable things you have—it makes total sense to create that separation.

I feel like that whole real life vs. fictional life theme showed up a lot in Harry’s House. And I still think we can see Harry in his art and when he’s performing. But it's still kind of sad that most people have this distorted perception of him.

Hi love!

Honestly, personally, I think the polarization towards Harry has been going on for almost as long as 1D, especially within the fandom. I think there's always been a faction of people who have no object permanence when it comes to him -- who "forget" who he is/who he was to them once, to the point that I think it's deliberate. They want to see him as disingenuous, they want to misunderstand him, they want to sever their connection to him, they want to dislike him.

I see it in other fandoms, too -- that people immediately turn on celebrities who "change" (their definition of change is usually pulling back on social media or a perceived tapering of excitement on social media) and become "less relatable" (ie. more successful), and I think this is down to two things:

1) that people always relate things to themselves as individuals (there's a video about this on Tiktok, I wish I could find it) which makes empathy for others less practiced, and

2) that this is the only generation that has watched celebrities "grow up" day-to-day on screen

Basically, fans in general have built an idea of Harry (and other celebrities) in their head. They want everything that's important to them individually (causes, projects, fandoms, industry friendships) to be absolutely aligned and reflected with equal passion in the celebrities they stan, and the only way to quantify that alignment and passion is through social media (because it's our only way to access them). So, when social media fails to reflect alignment/falls short of what fans, individually, expect to see (important, because truthfully, we know nothing of their passion for causes, projects, friendships, etc. off-screen), it augments their perception of the celebrity's person completely. This is exacerbated by Harry's complete pull back from social media. We now have zero access to him when he's not on stage/making music/promoting music, so we're left to our own individual conclusions about who he is and what he cares about to whatever degree when he's not in front of our eyes, and many people choose not to be generous with their perception of him because they require constant and tangible proof that he is who he has always been (which, needless to say, is impossible).

Additionally, we're the first generation that has watched celebrities grow up day-to-day -- and therefore change, naturally and with age and degree of fame/success/money and all the effects of those things -- on screen, and what would have normally been characterized as simply evolving as a human person from teenager to adult is rebranded disingenuous, because people are attached to the versions of celebrities they fell in love with, and find it very hard to forgive them for naturally outgrowing versions of themselves. It reminds me very much of this quote, which I absolutely adore:

“To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they’re too exhausted to be any longer. The people they don’t recognise inside themselves anymore. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out; to become speedily found when they are lost. But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honour what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that disappears and temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.” ― Heidi Priebe

The truth is, that's a tough ask for any human to feel towards the people they actually know/are married to/see every damn day, and so it's not at all surprising that most people can't offer that same generosity towards a celebrity who has had to grow up in front of them and who can offer no tangible access to explain why they are now who they are and not who they used to be.

[cheriesbucky]

SECRETS AND INTRODUCTIONS • S. REID

PART I

Pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer Reid

Summary : Rumors swirl about the incoming team member. Anticipation dances, whispering promises of change

A/N : Surprise ! So yes, i’m so sorry if you prefer reader insert stories but I just couldn’t do it so I hope you’ll like the character I created. This chapter took me forever to finish, I spent so much time on google making sure everything I said was correct. If it’s not, please don’t make a big deal out of it. I try to make it as realistic as possible but there might be some stuff that aren’t (especially when Reid is talking). I spent way too much time on google maps calculating distance in between areas, it’s not perfectly accurate so if you know LA, forgive me ! Otherwise I’ve got nothing more to say besides I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you’ll love it!

Wc: 5.2k

tysm to my bestie @cerisereids for helping me with this chapter ilysm<3

══════════════════

The BAU team was unwinding in the cozy break room, the air filled with the aftermath of shared jokes and light-hearted banter after a long stretch of work. Rossi and Hotch had just stepped out to pick up lunch, leaving everyone to relax.

Garcia's image flickered on the laptop screen, her eyes darting around the room and a faint, mischievous smile playing on her lips. Her fingers fidgeted with a glittery pink pen, a sure sign she was up to something.

Emily leaned forward, a curious glint in her eye. "Sooo, what do you guys think about our new teammate? Any guesses on who she might be?"

JJ set her coffee cup down and considered. "Well if Rossi's vouching for her, she must have some serious skills. He’s pretty selective about who he recommends."

Morgan rubbed his hands together with a playful grin. "All I know is that if she’s as easy on the eyes as she's supposed to be sharp, this place is about to get a whole lot more interesting."

JJ shot Morgan a look of exasperation. "I’m sure she’ll bring more than just good looks to the table."

Emily rolled her eyes and pointed towards Morgan. "See that right there ? That’s why I’m glad we’re getting another woman on the team even if it’s just for one case. Maybe it'll help balance out all the testosterone around here."

Morgan grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Emily, don't be hating on the fellas. You know we keep things interesting!" he said, playfully nudging her shoulder with his fist.

Then, turning to Reid, Morgan added, "What about you, Pretty Boy? Got any thoughts bouncing around that big brain of yours? Where do you think he met her ?"

Reid blinked, looking up. "Honestly, I'm not sure," he confessed, pondering. "But considering Rossi's extensive history, he could have crossed paths with her anywhere. Since she's in her mid-20s, it probably wasn't that long ago. Maybe during one of his recent consulting gigs or at one of his guest lectures at a law enforcement training program.” He spoke quickly, his hands moving as he mapped out the possibilities.

Emily nodded, intrigued. "Right, or maybe they met through mutual contact in law enforcement. I mean Rossi's always been involved in so many things."

Morgan then glanced at the laptop screen and noticed Garcia's playful demeanor. With a teasing, yet accusatory tone, he said, "Now, now, wait a minute, don’t think I missed that cheeky little grin of yours Miss Penelope Garcia. What kind of trouble are you stirring up this time?"

Garcia’s voice came through, slightly sheepish. "Okay, okay, I have to admit something. I might have... kind of looked into her past."

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "What did I tell you about sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, babygirl? You know snooping like that could get you into serious trouble."

Garcia sighed dramatically, her voice crackling through the speaker. "I know, I know, I shouldn’t be poking around, but you have to understand! I mean, you know that change freaks me out, and I need to make sure my family—you guys—are safe. It’s just who I am, the keeper of order, the one who needs all the puzzle pieces in place. You’re my people, and surprises just aren’t my thing, okay?"

Morgan's voice came through the speaker, calm and reassuring. "Hey, it's alright, Garcia. We get it. You’re just looking out for us, like always. Now spill—what did you find out?"

Reid frowned, adjusting his posture. "Guys, isn’t it a bit invasive? I don’t think we should be prying into her life like that."

JJ grinned, her tone light and teasing. "Well, I personally wouldn’t mind knowing more. A little curiosity never hurts anyone, right?"

Emily shrugged with a wry smile. “Curiosity might have killed the cat, but with nine lives, I think we can definitely take the risk."

Morgan clapped Reid on the shoulder, giving him a playful shake. "Hear that, Pretty Boy? Looks like you're outnumbered. Now tell us what you got, mama."

Garcia leaned in, her eyes sparkling with a mix of challenge and triumph. "Okay, first of all, guys, this isn’t some walk in the park. Her files are locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Seriously, it's like trying to crack the Enigma code. But because I'm super awesome—and let's be honest, who else could pull this off?—I've managed to get into some of them."

Emily chuckled, "You're a rock star, Garcia!"

Garcia smirked, sending Emily a playful look through the screen. "Oh, Emily, keep those compliments coming—they'll get you absolutely everywhere! Alright now, let's spill some secrets ! Drumroll, please..." She paused, her fingers dancing dramatically across the keyboard. “Isabelle Lombardi was born on December 21st, 1981, in the heart of Brooklyn, New York. She was a top-grade student, always at the head of her class. Not only did she dominate the gymnastics scene with her gravity-defying routines during her high school career, but she was involved in a bunch of extracurriculars, debate team, student council."

JJ tilted her head, clearly impressed by the revelation. "Wow, she was quite the overachiever. I can only imagine the stories she must have from those days."

Garcia nodded with enthusiasm. "Oh, absolutely. She didn't just coast through; she even managed to graduate ahead of schedule, which is no small feat."

Emily raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face. "Graduate early, huh? Sounds like she could give Reid a serious run for his money."

Reid shifted slightly, clearly intrigued yet a bit hesitant. "Garcia, do you know what academic path she followed after high school?"

Garcia glanced up with a playful grin. "Boy genius is diving into the details, huh? Hold on, I'm getting to that," she replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Alright, so she got accepted at Stanford with a double major in Psychology and Criminal Justice—joined Psi Chi, which, might I add, is seriously impressive. Then, she transferred to NYU, completely out of the blue. I've got zero breadcrumbs on this mystery!" Garcia leaned in closer to her screen.

"Garcia," Morgan's voice cut through, a hint of amusement in his tone, "not every transfer has a conspiracy behind it. Let's focus on what we know."

"Conspiracy? Please!" Garcia scoffed. "I'm just curious, Derek. Curious professionals gather information!"

She cleared her throat, refocusing. "Anyway, where was I? Oh right - so she finished her double major there and knocked it out of the park with a killer thesis on criminal psychology. Seriously impressive work that caught her professors' attention. She graduated with the highest honors," Garcia said, her fingers dancing across the keyboard with excitement

Without missing a beat, she carried on seamlessly, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Then she went all in and trained to be a cop in New York. She was a total standout at the police academy, acing both the academic stuff and the physical training. Graduated at the top of her class. She climbed the ranks like nobody's business and moved to the Special Victims Unit. During her time there, she became a key player in a highly successful undercover operation that took down a major human trafficking ring. The whole thing was like a total game-changer for the division," Garcia added, clearly amazed.

JJ leaned back, absorbing the details, “Well, it looks like we hit the jackpot having her on board for this case.”

Morgan nodded, "You don’t say, she sounds like she's the real deal. Garcia, you got any more intel on our Wonder Woman ?"

The sound of furious typing filled the air as Garcia confronted a particularly stubborn file. "Ugh, I’m trying my sweet but this thing's like trying to crack the Da Vinci Code with a toothpick," she muttered, a hint of frustration coloring her tone. "Come on, computer, work your magic!”

A satisfied grin spread across her face as she broke through the last barrier. "Alright, victory dance time! I've cracked a little piece of this cyber fortress. From what I can see, last year she got selected to join an international task force, Operation Shield, stationed somewhere in the Middle East. She just got back, and the mission? It was highly classified and seems to have been of significant global importance. We're talking about a serious operation here."

Morgan shook his head in disbelief and said, "I can’t believe Rossi’s been keeping her hidden from us, I mean we could’ve used her help on a few cases."

Emily added, "Yeah, she's definitely the kind of person you'd want in your corner when things go south”

Reid, with a thoughtful expression, remarked, "It's interesting she chose law enforcement with her academic background. You'd think someone with degrees in psychology and criminal justice might pursue clinical work, counseling, or maybe even teaching..." He let the thought hang, still contemplating the surprising career path.

The team absorbed the information, a mix of admiration and curiosity hanging in the air. Garcia's voice suddenly turned somber, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. "Oh God.. I think I might know why," she murmured, her voice softening. "Her dad was a cop. He was there on 9/11, and he didn't make it out," she explained, letting the gravity of the moment sink in. "It's just... it’s so sad.

JJ’s expression softened, her voice gentle. "That's a lot for anyone to carry. She's been through a lot and still manages to come out on top."

Morgan leaned forward, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding, "You know, it makes sense she went into law enforcement. Maybe it was her way of honoring him. Being a cop, protecting people—it’s probably how she keeps his spirit alive. And transferring back to NYU, that’s got to be part of it too" The team nodded in understanding, recognizing how deeply personal her career path must be.

Silence fell over the room as the weight of Garcia's discovery settled, leaving the team awkwardly shifting in their seats.

Garcia, ever the empath, let her emotions spill out. "Poor thing, can you even imagine what she’s been through ? I mean she’s had such a rough ride, and yet here she is, turning all that heartache into something good. It’s like she's carrying this giant boulder of sadness around, but she’s somehow using it to build a fortress. I mean, how does she even do it?"

As she poured her heart out, the team’s eyes flicked to the door where Rossi and Hotch had appeared, unnoticed by Garcia.

Noticing the sudden quiet, Garcia glanced at her screen and froze. "Okay, why did it suddenly get all crickets around here? Did Rossi walk in and hear me spill the beans? Oh no, he did, didn't he? Sir, I'm so sorry !”

Rossi's voice cut through the silence, steady and composed. "It’s okay Garcia, and while you know how I feel about snooping around, you’re right about something, she is a tough kid. Resilient and sharp, and I believe if you all give her some time she'll quickly prove herself as someone we can all rely on."

Garcia felt a mix of embarrassment and guilt. "I’m really sorry Sir, I just... I just wanted to make sure everyone’s in good hands."

Rossi nodded, his tone reassuring. "You’ve got nothing to worry about Penelope. She’s as solid as they come."

Hotch, maintaining his focus on the details, asked, "Garcia, can you check the ETA on her flight arrival?"

Garcia responded with enthusiastic professionalism, "Yes sir, of course, I can absolutely do that!" Her fingers flew across the keyboard, quickly pulling up the flight information. After a moment of careful investigation, she looked back up and reported, "Her flight is scheduled to land in 40 minutes."

Rossi checked his watch and said, "Alright, I’ll go pick her up. Now, I trust you all to try and behave while I’m gone. I’d like to return to my team, not a knitting circle."

Reid jumped in with precision, "If you take Sunset to the 101 south, then get on the 405, you should avoid the worst of the traffic. Plus, the 405 tends to have a steadier flow this time of day due to its higher capacity. It should save you about 10 minutes, especially given the current traffic patterns."

Rossi gave a nod of appreciation. "Thanks, kid. I'll take your word for it." As he stepped out, Hotch set the takeout bags on the table. "Alright, let's get back to work," he said, his voice steady and commanding. The team shifted back into focus, ready to tackle the tasks ahead with renewed determination.

══════════════════

Her feet finally touched solid ground as she emerged into the terminal, the drone of announcements and the rhythmic clatter of suitcases creating a symphony of travel around her. The flight had been long, and fatigue clung to her like an unwelcome companion. Her muscles were stiff from the confined space, and she craved the stretch of her limbs and the comfort of fresh air.

As Isabelle navigated the sea of travelers, a buzz from her phone caught her attention. Glancing down, she saw it was a message from Rossi, letting her know he was nearby. Her heart quickened, a subtle tremor of excitement running through her. Rossi was here, ready to whisk her away from the bustle of arrivals, and although she was nervous about seeing him, she was also very eager to see a friendly face.

Her eyes swept over the bustling terminal, seeking out a familiar silhouette. Even in the midst of the crowd, Rossi was impossible to miss. There he was, the embodiment of Italian elegance, radiating a charisma that seemed to make the world slow down around him.

Their eyes met from across the room, sparking a moment of warm recognition. With a subtle smile, she adjusted the strap of her bag and made her way toward him, moving through the crowd with ease.

As she reached him, Rossi's face broke into a genuine smile. They embraced with a hug that was both spontaneous and heartwarming. "Well, look who's finally decided to grace us with her presence," he exclaimed, his voice alive with warmth and enthusiasm.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun now, could I?" she quipped with a playful grin. "I see you haven't changed a bit. Still the best-dressed man in the room."

Rossi chuckled, adjusting his suit. "What can I say? Some habits are hard to break," he replied with a wink. "Come on, the car is this way," he said, gesturing for her to follow.

As they walked toward the exit, Rossi inquired with genuine interest,“So how did the flight go? Any interesting tales from the journey?"

"Not too bad," she replied with a shrug. "Just the usual chaos of air travel—though my neighbor on the flight was quite the conversationalist."

Rossi nodded knowingly. "I would've sent the jet, but let's just say the higher-ups are keeping a close eye on expenses."

She laughed, shaking her head. "It's alright. I managed without the VIP treatment. But how have you been Dave?"

Rossi sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. "I'll be better once we crack this case. It's been a tough one."

They stepped out of the airport and into the fresh air, the SUV waiting nearby. As they approached the vehicle, Rossi opened the door for her, and they both settled into the car, ready to embark on the journey ahead.

Rossi started the engine, and the car purred softly as it came to life. She turned to him, a playful smile on her face. "Alright so what's the deal?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "I still can't wrap my head around you coming back from retirement. Trust me, If I had your kind of wealth, I'd be living the dream somewhere very far, far away."

Rossi watched her with a thoughtful look, curiosity etched in his features. "And where exactly would that dream take you, if I may ask?"

“A farm," she continued, her eyes lighting up at the thought as she gazed out the window. "Just a small place with a bunch of animals, they’re much easier to deal with than most humans."

Rossi raised an eyebrow, "So you're trading city life for a goat as a best friend?"

"Oh, 100 percent!" she said, leaning forward. "Animals are better than humans. They're straightforward, no hidden agendas. They don't judge or hold grudges, and they give you their loyalty without question. Honestly, with everything going on in the world, it's a relief to know some things are still pure."

Rossi gave her a sidelong glance, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "I guess you've seen more than your share of the worst types of people these past few years."

Isabelle nodded, her expression softening as she continued to look out the window. "Yeah, more than I'd like to count. But hey, that's the job, right?"

Rossi nodded in agreement. "That it is, kiddo, that it is."

"You didn't answer my question though," she teased, raising an eyebrow. "Why trade in your freedom for all this chaos?"

Rossi smiled, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes. "Retirement has its perks," he admitted, "but there's something about being in the thick of things that I just can't resist. Besides, I missed the thrill."

The road stretched ahead of them, the city lights gleaming as they drove on. For a few moments, they allowed the silence to settle between them, a comfortable pause filled with the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the tires on the pavement. It was a silence that spoke of understanding and mutual respect, a bond forged over years of shared experiences.

Rossi broke the quiet, his voice warm and sincere. "You know, I'm really glad you‘re here Isabelle. I trust you with this mission. There's no one else I'd rather have by my side."

She turned to him, her expression softening. "Of course, Rossi. You know I'd follow you anywhere. I just hope we can catch the bastard and put an end to this once and for all."

He nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "We will. Together, we'll make sure of it."

After another pause, she glanced at him, curiosity piqued. "So, tell me about the BAU. What's your team like? I hear stories, but I want to know from you."

Rossi nodded thoughtfully, his expression warm with a hint of pride. "The team?" he murmured, a fondness in his voice. "They're a unique bunch. Each one has their own demons, their own pasts that shape who they are. But when it comes to the job, they're the best there is."

Her interest deepened, sensing there was more beneath the surface. "Sounds like there's a lot more than meets the eye."

"Indeed," Rossi replied with a subtle nod, his eyes reflecting years of wisdom. "They have their own ways, their own strengths. It's not always what you'd expect, but it works. It's like solving a puzzle, piece by piece."

She nodded, intrigued by the mystery. "Must be something to see them in action."

As Rossi guided the car into a tight parking spot near the precinct entrance, the tires softly crunching against the asphalt, he glanced at her with a knowing smile. "Well kid, it looks like you're about to find out."

She grinned, a shadow of wonder crossing her face. "Let's see what surprises await."

With that, they stepped out of the car and made their way into the bustling precinct. The air was filled with the hum of activity — phones ringing, conversations buzzing, the occasional clatter of a keyboard.

As they navigated through the maze of desks and officers, she noticed a tall, imposing figure approaching them. He moved with a quiet authority, his presence commanding yet composed. His sharp features and dark, assessing eyes gave him an air of intelligence and control. His neatly cropped hair and tailored suit complemented his no-nonsense demeanor.

Beside him stood a man wearing a sheriff's badge, his demeanor friendly and approachable. He had a weathered look, with lines etched into his face, hinting at years of experience.

Rossi halted in front of them and gestured toward Isabelle. "Aaron, Sheriff Harris, I'd like you to meet Miss Isabelle Lombardi," he said, his tone carrying a hint of pride. "She's known for her work on undercover missions with the Special Victims Unit in New York among other classified missions. Her skills in handling complex situations are a great asset."

Turning to Isabelle, he completed the introductions, "Isabelle, this is Agent Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU, and Sheriff Tom Harris, who's been leading our local investigation."

Hotch extended his hand with a firm, confident grip. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. We're grateful to have your expertise on board."

She met his handshake with professional courtesy. "Pleasure to be here, sir."

Sheriff Harris nodded with a warm smile. "Welcome to the team. We're lucky to have you."

She reached out and shook his hand, meeting his eyes. "I appreciate the welcome, Sheriff. I’m looking forward to working together."

Hotch stepped forward, his tone crisp and professional. "We've got a lot to cover. The team's waiting in the conference room."

He led them through the bustling corridor, the air thick with purpose and urgency. As they reached the room at the end, the sounds of conversation and shuffling papers greeted them. Hotch opened the door, revealing the team gathered around a table, each face focused and intent.

"Everyone, meet Miss Isabelle Lombardi," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the room with an authoritative calm. "She’ll be working with us as our undercover agent for the case."

The first person to step forward was a tall, athletically built man whose presence exuded strength and reliability. He offered a bright, infectious smile as he extended his hand. "Derek Morgan, it’s nice to meet you."

She shook his hand firmly, matching his enthusiasm. "Likewise, though I wish it was under better circumstances."

Next, a woman with striking dark hair and sharp, intelligent eyes approached, her expression reflecting both curiosity and warmth. She offered her hand with a friendly nod. "Emily Prentiss. Welcome to the team. We're glad to have you."

Isabelle reached out and shook Emily's hand firmly, smiling warmly at her. "Thank you, Emily. I'm looking forward to working with all of you."

Then came another woman, her blonde hair pulled back neatly, giving her a professional yet approachable demeanor. She reached out with a friendly handshake. "Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ. I'm the team's liaison, so I handle media relations and coordinate with other agencies. If you need anything please just let me know."

She returned JJ's handshake with a grateful smile. "It's great to meet you JJ. I'll definitely reach out if I need help."

Finally, a youthful man stepped forward, his hair slightly untamed and falling just above his eyes. As she extended her hand to greet him, he waved awkwardly instead. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid," he began, a touch of nervousness in his voice. "I, um, don't usually do handshakes. It's not personal, just—germs, you know."

She withdrew her hand with an understanding smile, feeling an unexpected warmth toward him. "That's alright, Dr. Reid," she replied softly, her eyes meeting his. "I appreciate the heads-up. I guess I'll have to brush up on my fist-bumping skills then.”

His cheeks flushed slightly as he nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. There was a gentle sincerity in his demeanor that resonated with her, sparking a genuine interest. She sensed a unique depth in him that she was curious to explore further.

As the introductions wrapped up, a voice of authority yet calmness cut through the room. "Alright, everyone, let's take a seat," Hotch said, his presence commanding and assured. "We need to get you up to speed with what we're working on."

As everyone took their seats, the room buzzed with a subtle energy, the kind that comes from a team ready to tackle whatever challenge lay ahead. She glanced around, taking in the focused expressions and the shared sense of purpose. With a deep breath, she straightened in her chair, ready to contribute and learn.

“Reid," Hotch's measured voice cut through the silence, "walk us through your geographical analysis."

Reid stood up, clearing his throat. "Right, so, looking at these abduction sites," he began, walking towards the map, "each location was a strip club situated in different regions of Los Angeles, revealing a complex geographical pattern."

He traced his finger methodically across the map. "The first abduction occurred in West Hollywood, the second in Culver City which was at 8.2 miles from the initial point, and the third in the Inglewood area at 8.9 miles from the previous location."

His finger hovered over the map, tracing an invisible logarithmic spiral. "Applying a 0.92 probability matrix and temporal progression analysis, I can predict with about 85% confidence that the next target will be in Carson- approximately 9.5 from the Inglewood site, maintaining the unsub's consistent spatial deviation 2.2 miles from the mean progression."

Isabelle watched him, chin propped on her hand. She'd never seen anyone break down complex data like this before — it was like watching a genius decode an impossible puzzle in real-time. Her eyes, wide and intent, tracked every gesture.

"So we need to identify which nightclub in Carson he's gonna target," Morgan said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. "We'll need to pull security footage, see if he's been scoping the places out. If he follows his pattern, he's already been checking these clubs." He leaned back, a determined glint in his eye. "Time to narrow down our kill zone."

Sheriff Harris responded immediately, his tone clipped and professional.” I'll get my team on it right away," he said, his voice gruff and matter-of-fact. He stood up, grabbing his worn leather jacket from the back of his chair. "We'll have those security tapes pulled and analyzed by morning." Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the room, the door closing behind him with a sharp, decisive click.

"Garcia," Hotch called out, "are you there?"

Her face suddenly popped up on the screen, her rainbow-framed glasses sparkling. "Ready to work my magic, my fearless leader!"

Hotch's voice was calm but commanding, "I need you to run a deep dive on Carson. We're looking for hotel check-ins over the past week. Narrow down your research to white male, late 30s to early 40s. Cash payments only. Cross-reference with any criminal records, no matter how minor."

Emily leaned in. "Garcia, can you also check for any missing vehicles reports in the area? We're looking at older model sedans - maybe a Toyota or a Honda from the late 90s or early 2000s. Something reliable, not too flashy. If he's stealing a vehicle, he'll want something that blends in." She paused. "We might be able to track his movements by cross-referencing missing vehicle reports with security footage from the strip clubs."

"On it my crime-fighting kittens!” Garcia's voice chirped through the speakers. "Cash-only hotel bookings and missing vehicles are my absolute jam. I'll cross-reference everything faster than you can say 'database magic'. One sec while I unleash my inner search wizard!"

Isabelle caught Rossi's eye, a bemused smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Her eyebrow arched slightly, a silent question dancing in her expression. How does someone like that end up in the FBI? With her bubbly personality, colorful glasses, and digital references, Garcia seemed more suited to a Silicon Valley startup than a serious federal investigative unit.

"Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst," Rossi explained with a warm chuckle. "You get used to her after a while. Beneath all that energy is probably the most brilliant mind in digital forensics. She can find anything – and I mean anything – if it exists in a database."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Not how you imagined the BAU, huh?"

She glanced briefly at Rossi, a hint of amusement in her eyes, before turning back to Morgan. "Not even close," she replied.

Hotch studied the team, his voice steady. "We have to operate under the assumption that traditional investigative methods will yield no leads. This unsub is calculated, meticulous."

JJ sighed, dropping the files she was reading on the table. "We need to look somewhere no one else is looking."

The room hummed with a familiar intensity. Each team member was locked in their own world of analysis, yet somehow connected. Emily's sharp gaze scanned reports, Reid's fingers tapped a restless rhythm, Morgan's posture coiled with barely contained energy. They were a machine, each part working in precise, unspoken coordination.

In that collaborative silence, her focus drifted to the scattered crime scene photos. The crime scene photos seemed to blur before her eyes. Each image told a story, but something was nagging at her. The locations, the positioning - there was a pattern she couldn't quite grasp. Her mind raced, connecting invisible dots, searching for that elusive thread that might unravel the entire case

Rossi noticed her contemplative state. "What is it, kiddo? Something on your mind?"

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. The team was looking at her now, waiting. Her eyes locked with Reid's, sensing his silent comprehension. He gave her a small, understanding nod - a subtle encouragement that seemed to say, "Go ahead."

She cleared her throat. "When I was reviewing the crime scene photos in the plane, something caught my eye," she said. "The industrial zones near each crime scene were positioned almost identically. It's like our unsub has a specific type of landscape he's comfortable operating in." She leaned forward. "We should investigate those abandoned lots," she suggested. "Secluded parking areas where a vehicle could remain unnoticed would align with his need to stay off the grid."

Hotch studied the map. "Good observation, Lombardi," he said, standing up. "I'll have Garcia pull satellite imagery of those zones." He walked toward the door, already pulling out his phone.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment. "That's a solid catch," he said. "Those industrial zones could be the key to understanding our unsub's pattern. Nice work tracking that detail."

Rossi turned directly to Isabelle, his eyes warm. "Sharp thinking, kid. That's exactly the kind of detail that breaks cases wide open." Then he looked around the room, a smug grin spreading across his face. "What did I tell you about her?"

Isabelle felt a mix of pride and slight embarrassment. She wasn't used to this much attention, especially from a team she was still getting to know. She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to appear casual, but inside, she was still processing their words.

Feeling the weight of eyes on her, she glanced up. Reid was already watching her, his gaze sharp and analytical—not judgmental, but deeply curious. As if he was trying to decode something complex and intriguing. In that moment, something clicked—a recognition that went beyond words. He gave her a small, reassuring smile. It was a silent promise of support, an acknowledgment that she was now part of something bigger.

══════════════════

tags request : @yourallaround-simp @written-in-the-stars06 @kore-of-the-underworld

[coolstoriesbro]

BEDROOM HYMNS BY PROSEOVER-BROS

FANDOM: The Walking Dead

TITLE: Bedroom Hymns

STATUS: Complete

ERA: Season 7

PAIRING: Negan Smith x Female Reader (No Use of “Y/N”)

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

SUMMARY: On the night of the lineup, Negan took one look at you and knew that he had to have you. What you never anticipated was just how desperately you would end up wanting him back.

RATING: Mature (Minors DNI)

WARNINGS: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Language, Sexual Situations, Dirty Talk, Begging, Praising, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Teeny Bit of Fluff

A/N: I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone that I love Negan just as much as I love Daryl. Needless to say, seeing JDM’s sexy ass on my screen again every week was just the inspiration I needed for this smut-fest. Hope you enjoy! If so, comments/likes/reblogs would mean the world!

What the fuck am I doing here?

The same question had been repeating itself in your head as your reluctant footsteps brought you to the outside of Negan’s apartment. All of your instincts were screaming at you to get far away, but before you could so much as knock, the door swung open to reveal that smug, irritatingly beautiful face.

You knew he’d been waiting for you. When Simon had made a beeline for the truck the moment you returned from that afternoon’s run, it was a dead giveaway. Not to mention the fact that Negan had you hauled back the second he realized you’d snuck off in the first place.

Earlier that morning, you’d heard a group of the Sanctuary’s scavengers talking over breakfast. Today’s run was supposed to be through a neighborhood ten miles west of Alexandria. This was your chance. Your plan was to return, but only long enough to pack your things and get gone before anyone knew the wiser. The last thing you wanted was to create any more trouble for Rick and the others when all they’d ever done was help you.

Unfortunately, your entire plan went to shit when Negan had gotten in touch with Mike, the Savior who was leading the expedition. You’d overheard their conversation on the radio, listening as Negan ordered Mike to bring you back to the Sanctuary if he wanted to keep his balls attached to his dick. If Mike had been anyone else you might’ve felt bad for getting him into trouble, but he wasn’t. Mike was a Savior, and therefore not worth one damn bit of your sympathy.

He drove you back to the Sanctuary, bitching about the waste of fuel and resources the entire way, and when his truck pulled up right outside of the towering building, you turned to face him.

“If you were stupid enough to believe that he’d let me go in the first place, you deserve whatever you have coming.”

Mike snarled, opening his mouth to no doubt call you a bitch or a whore, but by the time the insult traveled from his pea brain to his mouth, you’d already opened the door to the passenger side and jumped down from the truck to an awaiting Simon.

“What is it about you?” Simon asked by way of greeting. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot as hell, but there are loads of hot women for him to choose from. Women whose job it is to please him. Why’s he so enamored with you?”

“Oh, enamored!” You exclaimed sarcastically, earning a glare from the man who had the bushiest mustache you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Someone’s been brushing up on their vocabulary.”

When Negan’s right-hand man crossed his arms and raised an equally bushy eyebrow as he awaited your answer, you rolled your eyes and strode past him. “Just lucky, I guess.”

The truth was, you didn’t understand Negan’s obsession with you either, but it went all the way back to the night of the lineup. That night and the fear you’d felt as you anxiously awaited his arrival with the rest of Rick’s group would stay with you forever. You’d all heard plenty about the Saviors’ infamous leader, but none had ever crossed him. Once the group had honored their agreement with Hilltop and attacked what they’d thought was the Saviors’ only compound, you’d assumed Negan had been included in the body count.

That assumption had cost Glenn and Abraham their lives.

You would never admit it, not to Negan, not to yourself—not to anyone—but the moment that the door to the RV swung open, you were just as attracted to him as he was to you. He may have been the man that both Hilltop and the Kingdom had warned your group about, but even you couldn’t deny that he was beautiful—psychotic or not.

As hard as you tried to fight it, your attraction to him had only grown since that horrible night, and after finally succumbing to it when you’d shared a kiss with him just yesterday, you’d gone out of your way to put some distance between the two of you. Until now, when you knew that continuing to avoid him could result in something horrible for Alexandria.

“Well, look who it is!” Negan exclaimed as he appeared in the doorway, opening his arms wide. He was attempting to hide his anger at finding his bed empty that morning with his typical show of bravado, but deep within his hazel eyes, you knew that the anger was laced with something else.

Hurt?

No, it wasn’t possible.

No fucking way.

This was Negan. He wasn’t capable of that emotion.

You brushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, finding it very easy to act as if it hadn’t happened when he continued with his usual theatrics. After allowing him to lure you to his apartment with dinner and drinks the previous evening, Negan had convinced you to stay the night, and you’d agreed, mostly because you didn’t want anyone to catch you leaving his bedroom so late. The entire evening had been established as a way to pay him back after he’d agreed to let Dr. Carson go to Alexandria to treat Carl, who had developed pneumonia after going on a run in the rain with Daryl and Sasha.

When you woke up that morning, it was in Negan’s bed, but he’d at least played the part of the perfect gentleman and taken the couch, which made it easy for you to slip out just as the sun was rising, completely unnoticed.

“What do you want?” You snapped, annoyed.

Stepping back, Negan opened his door wider to let you in, the flash of emotion you’d just seen on his face quickly forgotten as his signature grin replaced it, stretching wide across his handsome face. Foolishly ignoring your conscience for the second time that day, you stepped forward, entering his apartment.

“Pretty sure you know the answer to that question.” He grinned.

“And you chose me rather than forcing yourself on one of your ‘wives’?” An exaggerated gasp left your lips as you placed a hand to your chest with mock pride. “I’m honored.”

Negan shut the door behind you and within seconds you could feel him on your heels, his warm breath ghosting the back of your neck. “You really think I need to force myself on anyone, darlin’?”

Ignoring his proximity, you moved away, stepping over to the kitchenette and mindlessly running your hand over the counter. Turning to face him now that you’d put some distance between the two of you, you crossed your arms over your chest and narrowed your eyes at him.

While Negan may not have noticed you leaving his bedroom that morning, someone else had. Sherry. The two of you had walked back to the cafeteria where she’d filled you in on how she had become Negan’s wife just a few weeks ago. It was an ultimatum that she’d agreed to in order to keep her real husband from receiving a worse punishment than the iron.

“I am not a rapist.” Negan continued defensively. “Every one of those women have come to me, willingly.”

“Willingly?” You scoffed, glaring at him in disbelief as your anger began to mount. “When you threaten to kill someone’s husband unless they agree to be your whore, that isn’t willingness, that’s desperation—and you fucking know it!”

Negan rubbed a hand down his jaw as he stared at you, but for once he didn’t have a witty comeback to toss your way. If the circumstances had been different, you would’ve celebrated such a victory. The man who never shut up, finally silenced? It certainly was a sight to see. As it was, you weren’t exactly in the mood for celebrating.

“That’s right, I talked to Sherry. Try again, asshole.”

For a moment he remained silent, tapping two fingers against his bottom lip as he appeared to be deep in thought. But when he met your eyes again and you watched as that wicked grin returned to his features, you knew that he felt no sense of shame, and your victory over him was short-lived.

“Ah, I know what this is . . .” He began, his deep, gravelly voice practically purring as he sauntered closer and lowered his hands to your hips. “You jealous, baby?”

Rolling your eyes in pure disgust, you covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly. “Oh, I fucking hate you!”

Negan’s grip moved from your hips to your forearms, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe for a brief, absurd, fleeting moment I didn’t absolutely despise you last night—but that’s over. Done. I want to go home. I want to go back to Alexandria.”

For a moment, nothing was said. He worked his jaw as he took in your words, but refused to believe in them. “Not happening.”

“Why?” You hissed, pushing his hands away when he attempted to return them to your waist.

Negan frowned but didn’t reply.

You couldn’t believe that you’d managed to stump him twice in one night.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“Take it easy.” He warned you.

“Take it easy?’” You laughed, outraged by how nonchalant he was being. Negan, who could put your potty mouth to shame, even on an off day. Nowhere near in the mood for this, you slammed your hands up against his chest, throwing all your weight forward and shoving him as hard as you could.

“Why the fuck not, Negan? Rick and the others have been killing themselves getting you everything you’ve asked for. They haven’t let you down once!”

Before you could fully remove your hands from his chest, he grabbed you by the wrists and pressed you to the wall, crowding your body with his.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You absolutely hated yourself for the abrupt feeling of desire warming in the pit of your stomach as he closed in on you, those dark eyes staring you down in a way that made your heart race.

“Because I’m not letting you go. Because it’s different with you. I felt it—you felt it. I fucking know that you felt it.” Raising his hand, he moved it forward to cup your chin, his thumb and forefinger dipping down to graze the sides of your neck. “And I haven’t fucked any of those women, not since you got here.”

“And what do you want for that? A prize?” You hissed, desperately trying to keep your train of thought on what was important. “This isn’t me being jealous of your harem, this is me being disgusted with you for taking advantage of these women in the first place.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you last night when you kissed me.” He murmured, his eyes darting down to your lips.

“You kissed me.” You corrected him.

“And you kissed me back.” He smirked.

Lowering his hands from your face, he placed them over your hips once more and pulled you flush against him, letting you feel what thoughts of the previous night were doing to him. You closed your eyes at the sensation as he molded your body to the erect outline of his cock, your resolve weakening.

“That was a mistake.” You whispered, hating the pathetic sound of your voice.

“You don’t believe that.” He argued.

Biting into your bottom lip, you swallowed hard but said no more, not sure that you could trust what might come out of your mouth next.

Suddenly, Negan scoffed. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

Finally opening your eyes to look at him, you narrowed them into a glare, daring him to elaborate.

“I let you pick the job you wanted, excluded you from the point system. Hell, I even let you take that hick piece of trash’s place—"

At the mention of Daryl, you swung your hand out and slapped him across the face so hard that it left your palm numb and stinging. Negan’s head whipped to the side from the impact, and when he looked back at you, that smug smile was finally gone from his lips.

“Don’t you fucking call him that.”

Negan growled and in the blink of an eye, pressed you back once more, slamming his free hand against the space beside your head. Your back connected with the dry wall, a startled gasp leaving your lips as you stared up at him, wondering if you’d finally gone too far. Moving his hand to your throat, he gave it a gentle squeeze but even as you felt your heartbeat quicken from the contact, you weren't scared of him. This wasn't fear you felt, this was something else entirely, and when his eyes darkened and he lunged forward to roughly press his lips to yours, you kissed him back rather than allow yourself time to think about what that feeling was.

Negan’s kiss was hungry; his mouth devouring your lips, tongue, and every single moan that escaped you while his strong hands held your face far more gently than you’d ever thought him capable of. Opening and closing your mouth against his, you returned each of his kisses with equal fervor; a mixture of passion, anger, lust, hatred—every single emotion you’d ever felt for him, merging into one—your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved you from the wall and carefully backed you over towards his bed.

Gently breaking the kiss, Negan stared down the several inches he had on you, the look on his face very much resembling a starved man. With your eyes on his, you opened your mouth to speak when a sharp gasp left your mouth instead, his hands having found your ass and lifted you into the air against him before gently setting you down on his bed. Over the next moment or two he took his time removing your button-up flannel, tank top and jeans, his lips tenderly kissing every new inch of skin that became exposed to him.

Moving his hands to unclasp your bra, he let it drop to the side before lowering his body over yours. Negan had always considered himself an ass man, but with you he didn’t want to graze over a single body part. Pressing his lips to your neck, he used both hands to cup your beautiful breasts to his face, and you welcomed the rough feel of his calloused hands and warm tongue as his mouth lowered to each smooth mound long enough to tongue both of your nipples into stiff peaks. His hands continued their descent to your hips, your thighs, your ass, until finally he hooked his thumbs beneath your underwear and pulled it off.

Quickly removing his own shirt, Negan loomed over you, his eyes greedily taking in every inch of your body with a groan that let you know he was loving what he saw. Wasting absolutely no time, he grabbed you beneath your knees and dragged your ass to the center of the bed as he kneeled, pulling you close to his face and dipping his mouth between your legs. Breathing heavily as you allowed your body to recline against the pillows, you tilted your chin, watching as he skimmed the soft skin of your inner thighs, the scratch of his beard and feel of his lips teasing you mercilessly.

“Look at my beautiful girl,” He grunted in awe, groaning at the sight of you completely spread before him, pink and smooth and glistening with your slick arousal. You’d been wet from the moment you saw his face and heard his voice when he’d first opened that door, and if he’d given you any time to think it through you’d probably be a little embarrassed, but then he leaned forward to lay a sloppy kiss over your wet heat and all those thoughts of shame faded away.

“Fuck—" You cursed, tossing your head back as his mouth found your clit with ease, his tongue darting forward to caress the tiny bundle of nerves as he used his lips to suck it further into his mouth. Instinctively, your back arched and your hips lifted off the mattress to be closer to his skilled mouth as he feasted on you. Anticipating your response, Negan slid his hands beneath you to grip your perfect ass, anchoring your body to him with his hands and mouth as his eyes traveled up to your face. He’d waited far too long to see you at his mercy, and he wasn’t going to miss a goddamn second of it.

After a few more moments spent skillfully eating your pussy and learning just what you liked, one of the strong hands clutching your ass slid from beneath you and returned a second later when he thrust two of his long fingers inside of your tight cunt, stretching you. Negan lifted his head for a breath and groaned against you as he felt resistance meeting his knuckles.

“So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you, darlin’?”

Staring down at his beautiful face nestled between your thighs, you nodded eagerly, jerking your hips to the rhythm of his fingers as you shamelessly began to fuck yourself up and down on top of them. You wanted more—you wanted him—and anything less wasn’t going to satisfy you for long. Snaking a hand along your abdomen, you slid it up between your breasts and shoved a closed fist against your lips, biting the skin of your knuckle.

“Fuck,” He hissed, his eyes hooded with pleasure as he watched you move your beautiful body in sync with his fingers, your breasts bouncing with each movement as he curled his fingers inside you to graze that tightness within that left you writhing with pleasure. You were a goddamn treasure, and he was loving every second of this. “And so fuckin’ wet for me, too.”

Lowering his head once more, Negan lashed his tongue over your clit again and again, slowly but insistently while he continued thrusting his long fingers in and out. He could do this all goddamn night if that’s what it took, but with the way your body was starting to shake against his mouth and fingers, he knew you were close.

“Come for me, baby.” He breathed against you, twisting his fingers deep inside as he hummed over your clit. “Let go.”

“Oh, fuck—Negan!” You cried out, feeling that beautiful heat building up in your stomach and licking down to your core, your toes curling as your body began to jerk and spasm with the most intense pleasure you’d felt in years—maybe ever. Negan lapped up every bit of your release, taking his time as he cleaned you up, his graying beard and chin glistening as he climbed back up your body.

Your breathing was beginning to slow back down, but before you could get it back to normal you caught sight of his face and lifted your hips to pull him forward. Grasping his chin, you pulled him into a heated, messy kiss that he all too happily returned.

“You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy now?” Negan murmured against your lips before leaning forward to give you another soft, languid kiss. Hearing your eager moan of approval, he grinned onto your lips as he slid his tongue forward, letting you taste yourself. Tucking his hand behind your head, he threaded his fingers through your hair and gently tugged back so that your eyes were level with his.

“Then you’re gonna be a good girl and look at me while I do it.”

Negan watched as you processed his words and as your expression went from aroused, to pissed, then back to aroused again. But he knew that he had you. Of course, it was a risk, and if it hadn’t paid off he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough not to beg for your forgiveness. Not allowing you any time to change your mind, he slipped his middle and index fingers forward to spread your slick folds, pressing his forehead to yours as he felt you shudder beneath him.

Not letting up, he found and stroked your swollen clit, rubbing torturous circles around it with the pad of his thumb and eliciting a sharp gasp from you. A beautiful, overwhelming shock went straight back to your core; your nerves still heightened and sensitive after everything he’d just done to you with his mouth.

“You want it?” Negan repeated himself, though his tone didn’t sound the least bit impatient. He was enjoying this far too much. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to the smooth flesh of your breasts, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses across your taut, pink nipples.

“Negan . . .” You whined.

How had you become so desperate for this man? Your enemy? How could you let him touch you with hands that had murdered your friends? Kiss you with the same mouth that had humiliated Rick, time and time again? You hated begging, and you hated the idea of begging him of all people, but in that moment you needed him to fuck you more than you needed air to breathe.

“Not good enough, baby.” He murmured. “Let me hear you say it.”

Fucking prick.

Kicking your pride to the curb, you stared up at him and nodded quickly as your teeth found your bottom lip, your gaze going from his face to the erection in his pants, then back to his dark, hazel eyes.

“I need you, Negan.” You begged, practically whimpering as your hand splayed out against his chest to grip the dark, coarse hair that grew there. “Now.”

“That’s my good girl.” Negan praised you, another smirk taking over his features.

The floor creaked beneath his weight as he stepped down from the bed to unbuckle his belt, his jeans and boxers soon joining the pile of clothes on the floor. Spitting onto his palm, he took his massive cock into his hand and gave it a few leisurely strokes as he stared down at you. Jesus. He was just as huge as he’d always assured you, and part of you fucking hated him for that.

Climbing back over you, Negan captured your lips in another kiss as he slid between your thighs, slapping the thick tip of his cock over your clit a few times before inching himself inside of you, his eyes watching as your mouth fell open in a gasp; completely overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. Meeting each other’s gaze, you both slowed to stare at one another, clearly overwhelmed by just how fucking incredible it felt to finally be joined.

When you thought back to your fantasies of fucking Negan, you’d always wanted him to take you from behind, but it was clear that he wasn’t going for that. He absolutely would not provide you with any opportunity where you could pretend this wasn’t happening. The knowledge that he would only fuck you on his terms aggravated you to no end, but if you were being honest with yourself, you loved watching his reactions to the things your bodies did together. The way his brow furrowed as he thrust forward; the way his lips parted to elicit a husky groan of bliss when he finally buried his cock deep within you. And that smile. That insufferable, shit-eating grin that spread over his face, dimples shining through his scruff, all while his eyes stayed locked on yours. You wanted to slap it off and kiss it all at the very same time.

“Jesus-fuckin’-Christ,” Negan hissed, thrusting his narrow hips forward and burying his cock deep inside what had to be the sweetest, tightest heaven he’d ever had the pleasure of fucking. He looked down, mesmerized as he watched your tight cunt swallow him whole, in and out, over and over, delighting in the sounds you made as he stretched you inch by inch and you lifted your legs to wrap around the back of his thighs and ass.

“Uhh, Negan! Mmm . . .”

Your body reacted instantly to everything he did, your hands clutching his chest as you rolled your hips against his again and again, giving as good as you got. This man might be a monster, but he knew exactly what your body needed, and for right now that was enough to help you temporarily forget all the things that he’d done to the people you loved.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” Negan hummed, digging his fingers into your hips as he steadied himself, pulling them just how he needed as he set up a steady rhythm. The sounds of his grunts and the wet, obscene noise of his cock going in and out of your pussy as it impaled you at such a delicious angle grew louder, and you could only pray that no one was loitering around in the hallway when you cried out his name while he fucked you harder, deeper, and better than anyone else ever had or could.

“Say it again,” Negan grunted, leaning over your body to gently palm your throat, pinning you in place as he used his other hand to swipe his thumb over your clit. “Fuckin’ say my name, baby. ”

“Negan,” You cried, not even ashamed as you felt him circling hard at your clit. “Fuck, Negan, fuck!”

Every time your hips rose to meet his—your movements, your expressions, your cries, his name on your lips, everything you were, everything you did—it all pushed him further to the edge. Anticipating that you were close, he quickened his pace, knowing that he wouldn’t be far behind.

“Look at me while you come all over my cock, pretty girl.” He demanded as he moved his hand from your throat to your mouth to trace your plush, swollen lips.

As if out of instinct, you flicked your tongue forward, lashing over the pad of his thumb and earning a low growl from him when you did exactly as he said, holding his gaze as he teased your climax from you, that delicious warmth fluttering through your stomach, then down further as your cunt pulsated and throbbed over his cock through every wave of your pleasure.

Gripping your hips, Negan moaned with you, lost entirely in your gaze as he chased his own release. Lowering his head, he met your lips once more in a bruising kiss as his cock swelled inside of your cunt and he spilled himself deep inside of you with several, brutal strokes.

Finally spent, Negan rolled to the side, reclining against the mattress and breathing deeply as he rested his hand over his abdomen. For a moment the two of you laid in peaceful silence, but only for a moment. Finally coming down from your high, you moved your palms to the mattress, about to push yourself up when Negan grabbed your right hand.

“Stay.” He said softly.

Quickly looking over at him, you frowned, about to shake your head no when he gripped you harder.

“Look, you can go back to goddamn hating me tomorrow. Just . . . just give me tonight first.” He pleaded.

Watching closely as he held your gaze, you found yourself at a loss for words. In that moment, Negan was being completely vulnerable, and he was letting you see that—more than that, he was begging you to stay. After a few seconds, he looked down, assuming you were going to deny him anyway, when you suddenly squeezed his hand back.

Rather than answer right away, you took his face in your hands and leaned forward to press a slow, tender kiss to his lips. When you broke it a few seconds later, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you searchingly.

“Tonight," You promised. “You can have tonight.