#And she grabs his hand and squeezes it and she feel his heart get a little lighter but only slightly

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Five

Pairings: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, smuuuuutttttt, bucky and you dumb affffff and will continue to be dumb affff lol

A/N: I will be updating my masterlist to link it below so you dont have to search for the other parts!

As you walked in a clicked the door shut, placing your keys in the bowl, that had little flowers painted all over it your heart clenched, Bucky made it to you is some ceramics class he took so he could make you a birthday gift that was extra special, you sighed pulling out your phone to text Steve: Made it home safe.

Your phone chimed back almost instantly: Good. Was worried about you.

As you made your way down the hallway, your hand lingered on your door as you stared at Bucky's door, which was across from yours "Stop it" You mumbled to yourself, you shut your door behind you a little too fast as you typed out: Thanks for always being there Stevie.

It said Read as soon as the message sent and the bubbled popped up: Always. Get some rest, okay?

I'll try, Dont drink too much beer, someone told me its not good for your health ;) night

-- Ha ha, whoever said that sounds like a smart guy... Goodnight :)

You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts you can’t quiet. You’ve been tossing and turning for what feels like hours, every second dragging painfully slowly. Your heart twists with questions and doubt, replaying all the subtle moments with Bucky—moments you were so sure meant something more. Had you read all the signs wrong? All this time, you thought there was something unspoken between you, something lingering just beneath the surface. But now, with Kate in the picture, that hope feels like it’s slipping away, leaving you feeling vulnerable and maybe a little foolish.

You’re still caught up in the whirlwind of your thoughts when you hear the front door click shut. Bucky is back. Only one pair of footsteps echoes through the quiet apartment, and you exhale softly. Kate isn’t with him.

You listen as his footsteps draw closer down the hall, your heart pounding as they slow right outside your door. You hold your breath, half-wanting to call out, half-terrified of what he might say.

After a moment, his soft voice breaks the silence. “Doll…you awake?”

You bite your lip, staying silent, your eyes squeezed shut as if that might make the whole situation disappear.

There’s a long pause, and then you hear him sigh. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His voice is barely a whisper, laced with regret. You hear him linger for a beat longer before the quiet click of his bedroom door closing.

Your heart sinks, and you lie there, sleepless and aching, until exhaustion finally wins over.

When you wake the next morning, the apartment is still and quiet. You glance across the hall, hearing no sounds from Bucky’s room. Thank God. You don’t know how you’d face him just yet, so you dress quickly, grab your things, and slip out of the apartment, practically fleeing as if it were on fire.

The early morning air is crisp, waking you up fully as you make your way to your usual spots. You grab a coffee, linger at the bookstore for a while, and then pick up a bottle of wine for girls’ night, something you’re now very much looking forward to. On a whim, you swing by your favourite bakery, grabbing a big bag of donuts, hoping it’ll be a welcome surprise.

By the time you reach Wanda and Natasha’s apartment, it’s still early, and you can almost hear Wanda’s sleepy grumble before you even knock. After a few moments, the door creaks open, and Wanda appears, rubbing her eyes, looking as if she’s just rolled out of bed.

She blinks at you, her voice drowsy. “You’re about five hours too early for girls’ night,” she mumbles with a yawn.

You laugh, lifting the bag of donuts. “I come bearing gifts!”

Her eyes light up at the sight, and she grins. “Screw girls’ night. This is now a girls’ day.” She opens the door wide, ushering you inside with a grin.

You gather around the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in hand as you tear into the donuts. It doesn’t take long for the questions to start, Wanda eyeing you carefully between bites.

“So,” Wanda begins, her voice casual but with that all-too-knowing glint in her eye. “What’s going on with you and Barnes?”

You let out a heavy sigh, and Wanda's face softened , as if sensing just how much you’ve needed this. “It’s…complicated,” you admit, glancing down at your coffee. “I thought…I thought there was something between us, you know? And after all these years.... But now, with Kate…I don’t know anymore, i dont think i ever did"

Wanda frowns, reaching out to pat your hand. “Maybe he’s just as mixed up as you are,” she offers gently. “Bucky’s not exactly known for being straightforward about his feelings.”

“Yeah, but after all this time…” you trail off, feeling the weight of all those quiet hopes and missed chances.

Wanda shakes her head, determination flaring in her eyes. “Look, you deserve someone who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to show it, and its girls day anyway, forget about those stupid boys!"

You raise your coffee cup in agreement. “To girls’ day,” you declared, grinning. “Where we eat donuts, drink wine way too early, and forget about all confusing men for a while.” You clink your coffee mugs together, laughter filling the room. And as the morning stretches into afternoon, with stories and laughter, you find yourself able to breathe a little easier.

---

Later that day, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were sprawled around Steve’s living room, beers in hand, the low murmur of a football game playing in the background. It was guys’ night, meant to be an escape, but the tension in the air was hard to ignore.

After a sip, Sam shot Bucky a look. “So…how’s she doing?” he asked, referring to you, tone casual, but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

Bucky shifted in his seat, his jaw tightening. “She was asleep when I got back from the bar last night,” he muttered. “And gone before I woke up. Hasn’t been answering any of my texts.” He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly frustrated.

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Can you blame her?”

Bucky gave a weak chuckle, but his shoulders slumped. “I know,” he sighed, glancing away. “Nat gave me an earful last night.”

Steve groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned forward. “Do you really get it, Buck? Do you know how amazing she is? She’s been there for us, for you through everything—through all the moves, the close calls, every rough patch. She’s loyal, funny, strong, and—she’s beautiful, Bucky. Inside and out.” His voice softened. “She’s always been there, right there pal.”

Realisation flickered across Sam’s face watching the way Steve talked about you piecing together how he was when he rushed out the night before to chase after you and the way he wouldn't let his phone lock till you said you made it home safe, while Bucky stared into his drink, his usual swagger deflated. He stood up to grab another beer, muttering to himself, “If I didn’t know any better, Steve, I’d say you were in love with her.”

As the words left his mouth, the room went silent, the no response was a response enough. Bucky froze, beer forgotten, as he shut the fridge door and peered at Steve. “You…you’re in love with her?”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “Man…can you blame me? After all these years? Are you telling me you’re not?”

Bucky blinked, taken aback. He shook his head slowly, in disbelief. “I mean, I knew you had a crush on her back in junior high. But come on, everyone did.”

Sam, leaning back on the couch, gave Steve a knowing look. “So, why didn’t you make a move, Rogers?”

Steve shrugged, his eyes distant. “Come on, you know why, Sam.”

Sam nodded, understanding why because well he tried but after looking, really looking he could tell your heart was tied up elsewhere, and Steve glanced at Bucky, a faint apology in his gaze. “Look, Buck, I didn’t mean to drop that on you. I’m sorry, pal, its just i dont get you man”

Bucky hesitated, the gears visibly turning in his mind. “Are…are you still in love with her?”

Steve let out a sigh, giving a small, wistful smile. “She was the first girl I ever fell in love with, Buck. Part of me probably always will be. But y’know she's my best friend and you're my best friend too…” His voice softened, a bit nostalgic, and understanding as he met Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky shifted, brows drawn, processing Steve’s words. “Does she know?”

Steve shook his head with a dry chuckle, and Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “She’s as blind as you, Buck. God, you two are just—two peas in a pod.” Sam raised his beer, a grin spreading on his face. “Here’s to that.”

Steve chuckled, raising his own beer. “I’ll toast to that.”

Bucky frowned, folding his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve leaned forward, looking Bucky dead in the eye. “Look, punk, that girl’s been head-over-heels in love with you since we were kids. Anyone with two eyes can see it. And you? You’ve been playing this back-and-forth with her for years—whether you know it or not. I know you’d never hurt her on purpose, but come on, man. You’ve gotta stop doing this.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, a mix of frustration and longing crossing his face. His gaze dropped, his voice almost a whisper. “I fell in love with her the first day I saw her, when we fought over the swings in kindergarten” He smiled softly “Ive never, never loved her”

Sam groaned, throwing his hands up. “Then what the hell’s stopping you, Buck? She’s right there, man! You know how many people search their whole lives for ‘the one’? And she’s been there all along!”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his voice barely more than a growl. “I know, Sam. Don’t you think I know?”

Steve shook his head, exasperated but with a hint of a smile. “Then what the heck are you waiting for?”

Bucky looked at both of them, the weight of years of history and feelings settling over him “Something happened in college”

---

Just as you finish setting out the wine glasses, Natasha walks in, kicking off her shoes with a groan. “Finally!” she exclaims, collapsing onto the couch. “Rough day. I need a drink and a plan for tomorrow. We’re going all out for your date.”

You laugh, topping off Natasha’s glass. “Already on it. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping for a new dress. And then Saturday, you’re kicking Bucky and the boys out of the apartment, and we’re having girls’ day to get you ready.”

Wanda grins, chiming in, “And fingers crossed, maybe you won’t come back. You’ll be over at Dean’s, if you know what I mean” she wiggled her eyebrows

You roll your eyes, groaning. “Slow down, Wanda! Not so fast!”

Wanda tilts her head with a teasing look. “Speaking of which, when was the last time you even got close to any action? You’re never with anyone, not even back in college!”

Natasha leans in, smirking. “Don’t tell me we’ve been getting all the action while you’re at home alone with a favourite vibrator or something....unless you've been hiding a double life this whole time" She winked

You sputter mid-sip, choking on your wine as the other two crack up. Laughing, you shake your head. “I mean… there was… one time.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming. “Excuse me? Who? You never told me this.”

Wanda, leans closer “Come on, spill. Who was it?”

You sigh, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. “Okay, okay….do you guys remember that party John Walker threw in our third year?”

Wanda’s eyes widen. “Oh, how could I forget? Natasha jumped from the balcony into the pool, and I nearly had a heart attack!”

Natasha laughs, looking delighted at the memory. “Best party of college. But wait… I remember after that, we couldn’t find you anywhere. We looked for ages and got really worried.” Her expression shifts, suspicion dawning in her eyes. “Wait. Whose room did you disappear to that night?”

Wanda’s jaw drops, and she leans forward, her eyes alight with excitement. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Tell me it was someone we know! Oh my god was it Tony?!”

They start tossing out names: “Steve?” “Sam? No he was already gone” “That guy in your English Lit class?” “Oh my god it had to have been that exchange student, with the long blonde hair -- he looked like a god and he was so into you!”

You finish your wine, swallowing before glancing meaningfully at Natasha, that was one of your favourite things about your relationship with her, the way you both could just almost telepathically speak to one another.

Natasha’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in shock. “No, nuh huh! No way.”

Wanda looks between the two of you, completely lost. “What? I’m missing something here!”

Natasha, still staring at you in disbelief, finally speaks, her voice low. “Bucky?”

You nod, cheeks burning as Wanda promptly spits out her wine, sputtering in shock. “You’re kidding!”

“Not at all,” you admit. “We… never talked about it again. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even remember it was me.”

Natasha’s expression softens. “You don’t have to tell us the story if you don’t want to.”

But you just give a little nod, ready to finally let it out. “It was after you jumped off the balcony into the pool, I decided I should probably check on the boys especially if that's what you were doing” You laughed shaking your head “Bucky and I… we did a couple of shots….and there was this… moment.”

Natasha and Wanda exchange glances, both of them leaning in, wide-eyed as you begin to share the story of that unexpected, unforgettable night.

The party is in full swing, laughter and music echoing throughout the dimly lit house. You stumble out of the crowded living room, laughter bubbling in your chest as you weave through the throng of bodies.

You spot Bucky on the far side of the room, his broad shoulders hunched over as he leans against the wall, a beer in hand. He's wearing that classic, easy grin that makes your heart race.

With a few drinks in you, your inhibitions are low. You move toward him, your steps unsteady but filled with purpose. "Hey, Barnes," you say, your voice a playful challenge. "Having fun?"

Bucky's smile widens, and his blue eyes sparkle with mischief. "Just trying to keep an eye on the chaos. You know how it gets at these things." He gestures toward the crowd where Steve has just attempted to do a keg stand, much to everyone's delight.

“You’re telling me, Nat just jumped from the balcony into the pool” You gesture with your hands to the backyard, you could tell that he was worried by the look that washed over his face “She's okay, its Nat, Wanda on the other hand almost had a heart attack”

“God, she's insane!” He laughed, finishing his drink.

“Yeah, after that i decided to come check on my boys”

“Your boys hey?” He half smiled, his eyes piercing into yours

You laugh, leaning closer to him, the warmth of his body drawing you in. "Yeah my boys” You shoved him lightly, feeling anxious all of a sudden “Want another drink?" He nods, and together, you slip into the kitchen. The room is quiet here, and the air is filled with the sweet smell of spilled cocktails and the faint scent of something baking in the oven.

You pour two shots of something strong, handing one to Bucky. "To surviving another wild night," he toasts, clinking your glass against his.

"Cheers," you giggle, and you both down the shots, the liquor burning pleasantly on the way down. You pour another round, the world around you blurring into a warm haze.

As the night wears on, you find yourselves retreating to a quieter corner, sharing stories and laughter, the tension between you thickening like the air before a storm. "You know, I always thought you were kind of a dork," you tease, nudging him playfully.

"Yeah? And what do you think now?" he asks, leaning closer, the playful spark in his eyes deepening.

"I think you're a charming, more sophisticated dork," you say softly giggling. But then all of a sudden the moment shifts, when Bucky's face stays serious even with your giggles. The laughter fades, replaced by something heavier, more charged.

Bucky's gaze drops to your lips, and you feel your heart racing. "I could say the same about you, you’re a dork too…" he murmurs, and you can't help but feel drawn to him. He reaches out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary “But I always thought you were the most beautiful girl in any room, like thats my best friend, couldn't believe it, still cant” The air crackles between you, and suddenly, the noise of the party fades away.

You find yourself leaning in, breathless, and Bucky meets you halfway. His lips are warm and slightly rough against yours, igniting a fire in your veins. You kiss him back, deepening the connection, your hands finding their way to his neck, pulling him closer.

As the kiss intensifies, you feel the world spin away, leaving just the two of you in this moment. Bucky's hands slide to your waist, fingers digging into your sides, anchoring you against him.

He pulls you closer, and the heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine. "Let's get out of here," he whispers against your lips, his breath hot and inviting.

You nod, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He takes your hand, leading you through the house, away from the noise and chaos. You finally reach a door at the end of the hall. Bucky opens it, and you step into his dimly lit room.

As soon as the door closes, he's on you again, kissing you fiercely, as if he's been waiting for this moment as long as you have. The bed looms behind him, a tempting promise of what's to come.

Bucky's hands roam over your body, exploring with an urgency that sends your heart racing. "Are you sure about this doll?" he asks, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze grounding you.

"I am," you breathe, and that's all the reassurance he needs.

With a shared breath, he pushes you gently back toward the bed, and you sink onto the soft sheets.

He follows, his body a comforting weight above you as he kisses you again, slower this time, exploring the taste of each other like it's a secret.

The world outside fades completely as you lose yourselves in each other, fingers tangling in hair, the soft sounds of your breaths and whispered names filling the room. Bucky's hands slide beneath your shirt, his touch igniting a fire on your skin as he revels in the curves and contours of your body. You arch into him, craving more.

"You feel so good," he murmurs against your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

The sound of his voice, thick with desire, sends waves of heat crashing over you. "Bucky," you gasp, feeling bold as you pull him down to kiss him again, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He responds with a low growl, pressing into you, the friction driving you wild. "Are we really doing this?" he asks, his voice thick, almost reverent.

"Yes," you whisper, and it's like a spell has been cast. He grins, and the world melts away as you lose yourselves in each other, bodies entwined, hearts racing, as the night unfolds in a flurry of passion and warmth.

"You have no idea doll, no idea...." He whispers before diving back in, time loses all meaning, the night stretching on until exhaustion pulls you both under, and as sleep claims you, the last thing you feel is the warmth of Bucky's body next to yours, a content sigh escaping his lips.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You blink against it, slowly waking up to the warmth of Bucky beside you, still fast asleep. For a moment, you let yourself soak in the sight of him, the softness of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. But then it hits—the sharp pang of reality—and your heart sinks.

Your mind races, doubts creeping in like shadows. Last night felt like a dream, one that you’d wanted for so long. But had it really meant something to him? Or was it just a hazy, alcohol-fueled blur—a careless mistake he wouldn’t think twice about in the morning? Anxiety knots in your stomach as you wonder, What if I was just… there? Convenient.

Slowly, you slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him, each movement feeling heavy, like you’re pulling away from something you’ll never get back. You dress in silence, your hands trembling slightly as you piece together last night’s clothes. You glance back at him once, letting yourself hold onto the memory for a beat longer, but the panic rises again, louder than before. He’s Bucky—your best friend—and you don’t dare risk what little you have left with him if he wakes up and regrets this.

You need to leave before he opens his eyes. Before you see anything in them that could shatter you.

With one last look, you step out, closing the door softly behind you, the quiet click echoing in the empty hallway. As you walk away, the weight of that night presses down on you, a mixture of longing and regret settling deep, leaving you wondering if he’ll ever even think of it again.

[sansaorgana]

— BLESSED (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You find out your husband's true identity when Eregion is under attack. It is hard to tell which one is worse – the betrayal that you feel or witnessing how influenced by his evil your daughter already is.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I said there would be a second part, so here it is. But as usual, I could not stop writing and... there will be a third part, too! 🤣 Basically, in this part, Sauron is walking inside the rooms rapidly nearly all the time, which is something I realised later while re-reading the fic but I couldn't edit it since it made sense for the plot (and he was doing that a lot in canon, too).

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, lowkey toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Annatar Sauron, he gets angry at his daughter once or twice but he is not violent towards her (should not trigger anyone but I wanted to mention it just in case) + he is manipulating his daughter a lot, Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, Reader being put to sleep against her will, trigger warnings from S02E07 (Sauron murdering the guards etc.)

WORD COUNT — 5,240

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (II)

You were sitting inside your chambers in the evening all alone and embroidering for your daughter. Your only company was a slowly burning candle as you focused on the beautiful gemstones that were appearing thanks to your needle. Almárea had always been interested in the craft of smithery and it was no surprise. Her grandfather had been an excellent smith and so was her father. Uncle Celebrimbor perhaps was not related to her but she had been growing up around him. And, recently, her new favourite thing to do was to spend time with him in the forge, learning everything she could about the craft. She was there at the moment, too.

And where Annatar was, you had no idea. Most likely with them or helping to run the city. Ever since Celebrimbor’s health had been getting worse, your husband was helping you with the administration matters around Eregion, for which you were the most grateful. He did not wish you to overwork yourself.

You heard a booming sound from the distance, which startled you slightly. However, you gave it no second thought. But when the sound began to repeat itself, you stood up and approached the window worryingly. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the fire burning in the distance and you spotted a cannonball coming closer and closer to Eregion.

You could see it all in slow-motion how it hit one of the towers of your city. You let out a scream and covered your mouth with a trembling hand. The very foundations of the tower you were in shook and made you hurry for the doors, desperate to find the ones you loved the most.

But before you could reach them, they opened widely and Annatar stood in them. He was oddly calm but oh, of course he was – an emissary of The Valar would not be ever scared and his calmness would bring nothing but peace in the times of trouble.

“We are under attack,” he announced and you grabbed his sleeve to squeeze the fabric and pull on it, holding onto him like a child. “Stay here.”

“But… Almárea… She’s in the forge with Celebrimbor…” You sobbed and yelped at the sound of another cannonball hitting Eregion.

“Do not be afraid,” Annatar put his arm around you and walked you back to your chair where he was trying to sit you down but you refused.

“Almárea and uncle Celebrimbor… I must go for them…”

“I shall go,” Annatar assured you and finally managed to sit you down by the table. “My love, stay here.”

“Should we not evacuate?” You asked, looking up at him with glistening eyes. Whatever he would say, you would listen, do and follow. You trusted him with your whole life.

“When the right time comes. Until then, stay here, so I do not lose you in the crowd,” Annatar instructed and left your chambers.

You wiped your tears with a shaky hand and felt the ground under your feet shaking once more. A while after his departure, you realised that his request was deeply concerning. Staying inside this tower could mean death to you, after all. There was no guarantee that the next cannonball would not hit your tower.

You moved up once more and ran to the doors but they were locked, which made you furrow your brows. You kept pulling the handle but without any success. Even when you used all of your force, they did not move an inch.

The sounds of cannonballs and people screaming in terror were reaching your ears from afar as your anxiety grew. How could your husband ask you to stay inside in a moment like this – especially with your daughter being far away from you? Your heart could not rest until you were sure that Almárea was safe.

You hurried to the balcony and looked up at the tower next to yours. The fire inside the forge was still on, you noticed. But you kept waiting and waiting for your husband’s return and there was nobody coming.

You were circling around the room nervously, trying to think of a way out. Almárea was all you could think of – your sweet daughter, your purpose in life, your little blessing. You had to be with her, you had to protect her.

And as you nearly broke down in tears of helplessness, you felt another cannonball hitting nearby. The force of that hit was so strong that you fell over, feeling the floor underneath you tilting slightly. When you dared to open your eyes, fearing what you would witness, you realised that half of the tower you were locked inside was in ruins now. Including the wall in front of you, which allowed you to run out without using the locked doors.

You did not think of anything else, leaving all your properties behind as you gathered your skirts and managed to get to the corridor, coughing heavily from all the dust.

The staircase was wobbly and you knew each step could cause you to fall down but you were too determined to overthink that. Step by step, as fast as you could, you ran downstairs and hurried across the courtyard, bumping into other screaming and terrified people, until you reached the doors to Celebrimbor’s forge.

What you witnessed, shocked you dearly. Because despite the siege around you, you spotted your uncle and daughter working on some design cheerfully.

“Almárea!” You called out for her, making them both turn around with widened eyes. “Uncle! What are you doing?!” You hurried to their side and put your arms around your daughter protectively. “Can’t you see and hear what is happening outside?! We must leave, this very moment!”

“What are you talking about, child?” Celebrimbor chuckled at you as if you were the crazy one. His eyes were full of joy but you also spotted a haze in them, a deep fog as if he had lost his mind. Your heart ached for him because his state had been worsening for weeks now.

“Uncle… Please, we must go,” you reached out to hold his wrists but he winced and pushed you away.

“No! I must not stop my work. What are you talking about, (Y/N)? Look at the state of you, you look like a slattern,” he pointed out and his words hurt you deeply. Of course you looked like a slattern. There was a siege happening and you crawled yourself out of the tower’s ruins to get here. “Almárea, your mother must be feverish,” he addressed your daughter.

“Almárea, my darling, we have to go and we have to take uncle with us,” you tried to explain it to her in the simplest way but she took a step back from you as she shook her head and the bow in her head bounced slightly.

“No. Daddy asked me to stay here and watch over uncle Celebrimbor,” she explained.

“Almárea, that is very noble but we are under attack,” you were trying to remain calm despite the noises reaching your ears from the outside. You knew that you had no time to argue. “Whatever your daddy asked you to do, it has no significance now.”

“But he has been here only recently,” she answered and you opened your mouth slightly, surprised. “He told me to keep up my work,” she added, proudly. “Uncle, go back to your craft. Mummy is sick indeed,” she addressed Celebrimbor and he nodded at her before giving you a dirty look and going back to his designs of the Rings.

“Almárea, it is not safe, we must leave. What are you doing to him?” You asked her, unsurely. You were scared to hear the answer as you crouched down to be on her level.

Your sweet, little daughter. Your blessing. Why was there so much malice in her eyes now?

The doors of the forge opened rapidly and you stood up at the sight of Annatar rushing inside. At first, you did not recognise him because his kind and loving face was twisted in anger as his soft eyes reminded you of nothing but black, empty abysses.

“What are you doing here?!” He barked at you. “I saw the cannonball hitting our tower, I rushed there and it was empty. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” He raised his voice at you but you could not hear any concern in it – only fury.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and put your hands on Almárea’s shoulders.

“It is you who should explain yourself to me,” you tried to sound harshly but it was coming to you with great difficulty. After all, it was your husband, whom you loved and respected greatly. “Why is Almárea here and what is she doing to my uncle? You promised me you would come for them and we would evacuate together,” you pointed out.

“Not until the Rings are finished,” Annatar answered. “Almárea, are you keeping up the good work?” He addressed her softly.

“Yes, daddy,” she nodded her head with a grin and Annatar smiled before approaching Celebrimbor.

“How fares your progress?” He asked him.

“It would be better if your wife was not distracting me. She is feverish, you should take her back to your chambers and put her to bed. Call for a medic if you must,” Celebrimbor mumbled out.

“Is everyone going insane here?! We are under attack!” You exclaimed out of desperation.

“Almárea,” was all your husband said before she nodded and tilted her head

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. You let go of her arms and stumbled, grabbing the edge of Celebrimbor’s desk. You laid your free hand on your forehead and felt how hot the skin was.

“Oh, I�� I… I do not feel well,” you whispered.

Annatar hurried to your side and slowly wrapped his arms around yours to help you move away.

“My gentle darling, you have a fever. You must have had a nightmare,” he told you sweetly. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“You… You did?” You asked but your mind was in a haze.

“Please, lay down,” Annatar helped you to get comfortable on a chaise longue in Celebrimbor’s study. He caressed your forehead and you could hear him walk away since your vision was too blurry to see anything. “Almárea, your mummy needs to rest,” you heard him whisper before your eyelids got too heavy to keep them open and you drifted off to the land of dreams.

You had no idea for how long you had been sleeping. Could be hours and could be days. When you opened your eyes again, you realised with terror that the forge was a mere shadow of its own glory. It was in ruins now and everything was dull, grey and full of dust. You stood up rapidly with your heart pounding inside your chest from the anxiety – Almárea and her safety were all you could think of.

And there she was, sitting boredly on top of Celebrimbor’s desk. They both had clothes and faces dirty from the ashes but he kept working cheerfully as your daughter was looking down at him and swinging her legs.

“Oh, mummy,” she smiled at the sight of you. “I am glad you woke up. I am so bored here and daddy keeps saying I must go on until uncle’s work is finished,” she sighed and jumped down onto the floor.

“What… What are you doing? What are you doing exactly?” You asked her, carefully. Your head was still heavy from the sleep induced upon you and your memories of what had happened were foggy.

“Daddy says uncle Celebrimbor must finish the Rings for men but he would be scared of what is going on outside, so while daddy helps to run Eregion, I am here, making sure uncle Celebrimbor has no idea about anything,” she revealed and you gasped.

At that moment, the doors opened and Annatar walked inside. His skin and robes were not dirty at all as if he was above the siege. For the first time in your life, you were scared at the sight of him as you swallowed thickly, so deeply confused.

“The Rings. Are they finished?” He asked and closed the doors behind him. Then, he spotted you being awake and turned around slowly with a puzzled expression. “Almárea, why is your mother awake?”

“I was bored, daddy,” Almárea whined and you watched Annatar’s face muscles twitching as he clenched his jaw and gave your daughter a look so scolding that she approached you to seek safety.

“She is only a child, what do you expect?” You asked him. “You have burdened her with a task that is too heavy for her. It would be too heavy for anyone. The measures you are taking to finish the creation are unholy,” you took a deep breath in and moved a little closer to your uncle with Almárea still clinging to you. You were trying to shield poor Celebrimbor from your husband. “Make it stop. Let us flee.”

Celebrimbor looked up at you, his eyes so full of fog and mist that it made you shed a tear of compassion as he smiled adoringly at you with nothing but pure joy. He had completely lost his mind now.

“No emissary of The Valar would do this,” you turned your face around to lay your eyes on your husband again as more tears streamed down your cheeks. He looked both – hurt to be accused and angry to be caught at the same time. The most confusing reaction you could expect. “My husband would not do this,” you added, nearly inaudibly.

At that, he snorted. And you only sobbed some more.

“Free my uncle’s mind, I beg of you,” you shook your head.

“He is not under my control,” Annatar smirked and looked down to meet your daughter’s gaze. He nodded and she squeezed her eyes tightly as she focused on something. When her eyes opened again, you looked back at your uncle but he remained working. “Her powers are too strong. He might be forever broken now,” Annatar pointed out with a glimpse of… pride. “Come to me, my child,” he opened his arms and Almárea tried to move but you tightened your grip around her.

“No. You will not go near that man ever again,” you said to her, harshly. Each word caused a pain, like a knife cutting your heart into pieces.

You loved Annatar but you had to protect your daughter from him because the man in front of you was… Was simply not the man you had married. Perhaps the burden of the Valar was too heavy for him. The task they had given to him had driven him and your uncle to madness.

Perhaps it was all your fault – by choosing to stay with you as your husband, he had to choose this form and stay in it, losing some of his godly powers. And his new flesh was simply too weak to handle all the power he had been blessed with by the gods.

His empty eyes glanced at you with so much hatred and fury that you felt smaller than a mouse at the moment.

“I am her father,” he reminded you, coldly. “Almárea, come here,” he ordered.

And you were simply too weak to fight it. Your limbs rebelled against your will as you felt your daughter leaving your grasp and running up to her father. You could only watch as your whole life was crumbling down just like Eregion around it.

“You are her father. But you are not my husband,” you said. “Who are you… truly?”

“I am the one keeping the storm at bay,” he answered, putting his hands on Almárea’s shoulders as she kept looking up at him with admiration. “Balancing the very sun above your head. All to heal Middle-earth and give your weak and pathetic uncle one chance to prove his worth. I want the Nine!” He yelled, making you flinch.

Celebrimbor did not, however. He only looked up at the mention of his name and smiled kindly at the monster you had to call your husband.

“I am working, my friend,” he assured him before going back to work.

You moved slightly to cover him from Annatar’s stare. But you were not sure if Annatar was truly his name.

To heal Middle-earth. You knew that story. You knew who had been the man with such a dream. Annatar had been mentioning it before but never in this way. But now it all made sense. It all made a terrible sense and you had been nothing but a blind fool. It should had alarmed you the very first time Annatar had used this phrase. But the tone of his voice had been sweet then; concerned. Now, he had revealed his true intentions.

“You are He,” you realised out loud with a trembling voice. In fact, your whole body was trembling. The waves of aftershocks coming over your body after finding out such a dreadful thing about the person with whom you had shared your chambers, your bed, your body, your heart and your soul… Your bloodline. “You are Sauron,” the name rolled off of your tongue like something filthy and dirty – the most disgusting. The Abhorred.

All those I love yous you had whispered to him, all those nights you had spent on whimpering his name lost in pleasure, all those breakfasts you had served him, all those hours spent on brushing his hair with your fingers and peppering his face with tiny kisses. All this time you had been doing nothing but pampering the monster. And all this time you had been living in an illusion – not much better than the one your uncle was living in at the moment.

“I have many names,” Annatar smirked at your question as if it was bringing him satisfaction that his silly and naive wife had finally realised the dreadful truth.

“But you are my daddy,” Almárea tugged on his robe, waiting for confirmation.

“For all eternity, my darling one,” he caressed her hair lovingly and an empty hole in your chest grew and grew as it began to sink into your heart.

You had married Annatar but you had a child with Sauron.

You were sitting on the floor, with your back pressed to the wall and your knees brought all the way up to be able to rest your head on them. You had no chains but you did not have to. Annatar – or rather Sauron – knew very well that you would not leave Celebrimbor’s forge as long as Almárea was inside.

So, you just kept sitting there and staring at her as she was standing above your uncle and watching carefully as he crafted the Rings. She was studying him and you smiled sadly at that because under different circumstances it would be lovely to watch her learning from Celebrimbor.

His mind was far too gone to know anything happening around him. The only thing he could focus on was forging the Rings as you kept overthinking your whole marriage.

All those little things you had been ignoring about Annatar until now – all those excuses you had been making up for him. Gods, you were such a fool. And you loved your daughter more than anything but you could not help a feeling that your womb had borne a seed of Middle-earth’s demise.

Why had Annatar chosen you? Now it all made sense – you were the most useful in his schemes. You were close to the man he had wanted wrapped around his finger. And you were half-human, which could push Celebrimbor into agreeing to craft such powerful items even for the kin considered to be weak and unworthy by many Elves.

You sobbed silently. Was it possible that this was the only kind of love you could ever count on? This twisted illusion, this mockery? You had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, giving him everything you had and more. And all you had ever wanted in return was to be loved back. To have a family.

“You are done now! Daddy will be so proud, uncle!” Almárea clapped her hands and it made you look up. She kissed Celebrimbor’s cheek and he smiled at her, watching her put the rings inside a pouch.

“Almárea,” you called out for her and she laid her eyes on you. “Give them to me,” you ordered.

“But daddy–” She started, unsurely.

“I just want to see,” you extended your hand and she walked up to you, hesitantly. She handed you the pouch and you grabbed it from her. “Mummy!” She whined.

“Undo what you have done to uncle Celebrimbor’s mind. Right now,” your voice was harsh but not too much because she was still your daughter and you could never hurt or abandon her even if the darkness was the path she would descend into.

She was still a child, though. And she was half you – there was the same amount of light inside of her as of darkness.

“I can only try,” Almárea told you and you nodded at her, encouragingly. 

You held her hands to help her and she squeezed them, closing her eyes and tilting her head as she furrowed her brows, causing a small wrinkle to appear on her smooth forehead.

When she was done, you knew that it had thankfully worked. Because Celebrimbor yelped out of fear as you kissed the top of your daughter’s head and ran up to him immediately.

“Uncle… Uncle, calm down, please, shh, you are alright now,” you put your hands on his arms and his scared eyes found yours with relief.

“Oh, my darling (Y/N), I have been in such a haze… He… He made me…” Celebrimbor tried to find the right words.

“I know, I am so sorry…” You whispered, your voice full of pain and regret.

“No. It is me who is sorry, my sweet child. I have given you to him so easily, so freely,” he caressed your face with his trembling hands.

“And I am glad that you did,” you sobbed and he furrowed his brows. “And I cannot ever say that I regret it for he has given me my daughter,” you confessed.

“He might never get The Nine,” Celebrimbor changed the subject and you nodded, agreeing with him as you sniffed your tears back. You handed him the pouch with the Rings and glanced upon the doors.

“Go,” you pressed your forehead to his. “Take them away from him,” you whispered. “As far away as you can. Quick, we do not have much time. Use the opportunity that he still thinks you are under Almárea’s control.”

Your uncle nodded at you sadly. He kissed your forehead and squeezed the pouch inside his hand before looking at your daughter with a sigh. There was no hatred in his eyes but a glimpse of sadness, disappointment and fear mixed altogether. 

You watched him leave and Almárea reached her hand out after him but you stopped her.

“Daddy will get angry,” she looked up at you, surprised to witness what you had just done.

“Believe me, it is for the better,” you told her and held her hand. “We must leave now, too.”

“No,” she stood still and shook her head. “Not without daddy.”

“Almárea, we must go. We must leave, far away from here. We must go to your grandmother in Mithlond,” you tried to lure her in by the mention of your mother.

But she had seen her once in her life and the meeting had been brief. They shared no bond, therefore Almárea was not easily convinced.

“Not without daddy,” she repeated.

“Almárea, I beg of you…” Your eyes filled with tears again. You knew Sauron would be back any moment to check on Celebrimbor’s progress and you did not want to be there when he would see that your uncle was gone with The Rings.

But what you did not want even more was to abandon your daughter.

So, you stayed with her and waited. You did not even know what you were waiting for – was it your death? Would he get rid of you now when you were not useful to him anymore and after you had betrayed him in such a way; convincing your daughter to release Celebrimbor from her control and letting him flee?

You would find out very soon because the doors of the forge opened and there he was, walking confidently inside with a smirk upon his face.

“Daddy, I am so sorry!” Almárea cried out immediately and ran up to him while you looked away, wincing from the ache you felt in your heart. Your eyes filled tears at her words. You only hoped he would not lash out at her. “I trusted mummy and she tricked me! She gave The Rings back to uncle Celebrimbor and let him go!” Almárea explained and cried.

Long silence occurred and even though you were not looking in their direction, you could feel the atmosphere changing in an instant. Thickening.

“Mummy is a twisted, treacherous little witch, so it seems,” Sauron drawled out and you turned your head around to lay your angry eyes upon him with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“How dare you!” You snapped. Who was he to call you twisted or treacherous? “I swore no loyalty to you, shadow of Morgoth!”

“Yes, you have!” He yelled at you and Almárea flinched, taking a step back. He walked past her to approach you angrily but you could not move away because there was a wall behind you. “You bound yourself to me on the day of our wedding!” Sauron pushed you, causing your back to hit the wall. “Where is he?! Where are The Rings?!”

“Daddy, we do not know!” Almárea ran up to you two and tugged on his robe. You avoided her gaze because you did not want her to see the fear and pain in your eyes. It would only scare her more. “Daddy, it is not mummy’s fault that she is weak. You told me that yourself!”

Sauron’s face was so close to yours that your noses nearly brushed against each other. His breath was heavy and hot, full of anger. You remained cold and still with tears streaming down your cheeks. And even though you did not recognise your husband and his eyes were dark and empty now, you dared to reach out to his cheeks gently. You cupped his face delicately, which caused his brows to furrow and his eyes to widen slightly out of surprise.

“Annatar,” you whispered softly. “Annatar, my love, come back to me. You bound yourself to me, too, dark spirit. Obey me. Release me,” you pleaded, desperately, feeling as if you were losing your sanity.

There was pure confusion on Sauron’s face at that moment. He took a step back, away from you and away from your hands but as they were falling down, you tried to extend them further and reach him once more.

“You are pathetic,” he pointed out, coldly. “I shall find those Rings sooner or later. The only thing you did was to slow me down but you will never stop me.”

“Let it be then… Whatever I can do, I shall,” you whispered.

He opened his mouth to say something but you were interrupted by a group of people walking inside the forge. It was Celebrimbor with a few guards. For one, foolish moment, you sighed with relief, expecting rescue.

He nodded at you softly to let you know that The Rings were safe and far away from your husband. You reached your hands out to grab Almárea and pull her closer to you. She let you and wrapped her arms around you to comfort you after her father’s anger.

“Where are The Rings?!” Sauron abandoned your side to walk down the stairs from Celebrimbor’s study into the ruins of the forge.

“Far from your reach by now,” your uncle answered.

“Then you are going to bring them to me and place them in my hand,” Sauron said, trying to remain calm. 

“Your hand will never touch another Ring again,” Celebrimbor assured him.

You moved closer to the railing with Almárea still clinging to you, so you both could see better whatever was happening downstairs.

The Commander of the City Guard ordered the rest to arrest your husband. Almárea sobbed and hid her face in the fabric of your gown as you caressed her back, soothingly.

You watched the soldiers stand in a circle around Sauron and point their swords at him. You put your hand on the back of your daughter’s head, making sure to press her face a bit deeper into your gown to avoid her seeing any glimpse of the scene underneath you by accident.

“By order of the true Lord of Eregion, you, Sauron, are hereby–” the Commander began before freezing.

In fact, they all froze. They all froze and trembled, whimpering slightly because they had absolutely no idea what was happening to them.

“You think it was only you and your weak fosterling who put themselves in my power?” Sauron asked with contempt as he addressed your uncle.

He raised his hands slightly and all the soldiers surrounding him killed one another instead of him. You watched in terror as their blades cut through their bodies and then they fell down, lifeless, onto the ground.

Almárea sobbed and yelped, managing to get out of your grasp due to your moment of weakness.

“Daddy!” She cried out for him. She was scared that the sound she had heard was of their blades cutting through him.

But it was not. And you watched her run down the stairs and ignore the lifeless bodies, as if they meant nothing to her, only to cling to Sauron’s waist. He wrapped one of his hands around her to pull her closer as he raised an eyebrow at Celebrimbor in a challenging manner.

The Commander tried to approach your husband carefully, extending his sword.

“Do not hurt the child,” your uncle ordered but there was no need.

Sauron did what you had done a while earlier and pressed Almárea’s face deeper into his robe as she was clinging to him. And when there was a guarantee she could not see anything, he twisted the wrist of his free hand and the Commander froze before turning the blade around and killing himself with it.

Only when his body hit the floor, Sauron let go of your daughter and allowed her to move. She looked up at him as if she was waiting for an order or a task to be given.

“You shall take control over him again and tell me where The Nine are,” your husband said.

“Almárea, no!” You screamed from the top of the stairs. “Almárea, please!”

“Are you sleepy again, my love?” Sauron looked up to ask you with irony.

You chose to be silent. To be put to sleep for gods know how long, to lose control of your own body and to be unaware of your surroundings was not what you wanted to happen once again.

MASTERLIST

[littlestarbigsky]

outsiders week - darry

@outsidersweek

today’s a hard and scary day for my american friends (i’m right there with you, trust me) but i planned on posting this today and i hope it can bring some joy where it is much needed. i hope you all are taking care of yourselves today and if you need a friend, my messages are open🩶

sooo my little brother (he’s almost 17 but be quiet) got hurt wrestling this week (he’s okay but dear god he scared me) so naturally i had to inflict darry with a football injury. this is when he’s in high school soo im imagining him at about 14 here :p

“follow my finger,” the trainer instructed, and darry blinked rapidly to clear the dots from his vision.

he couldn’t remember the last time someone had knocked him so hard. sure it was a rivalry matchup, and sure the kid had gotten a penalty for it, but darry was surprised he was still conscious. he didn’t really remember what exactly had happened or how long he had been laying on the field, just that it had taken both paul and their coach to get him up and off to continue the game.

paul was lingering behind the trainer, his brows furrowed, watching darry anxiously. darry vaguely seemed to remember jumping in front of paul. nobody messes with his quarterback.

he felt pretty stupid. go figure, paul and darry had been waiting for their chance to play all season and it was the first time their coach had let the freshman play, and he managed to get himself plowed in the first five minutes.

“darry!” he heard someone yell from behind him, but his neck was hurting a little too much to turn around. he thought it sounded like his dad, but he couldn’t be sure, there were so many voices and it was like his senses had been dialed to eleven. paul seemed to catch eyes with someone and he hurried over in the direction the voice had come from.

darry tried to watch where he was going but the trainer grabbed his face and forced his focus back onto his stupid human tests. it didn’t last too long, though. within a few seconds, his mama was shoving the trainer out of the way and grabbing at darry.

“are you okay? what happened? oh, baby, you scared us to death,” she pulled back and held his face in her hands.

darry almost opened his mouth to say something, but the words felt far away and strange in his mind. he blinked slowly up at her, trying to communicate to her telepathically that he was okay, that she didn’t need to worry. it felt like a lie, but she shouldn’t need to worry about him.

“oh sweetheart…” she hugged him to her. the pain in his head started to build and he squeezed his eyes shut, partially to block out the bright stadium lights, but also because he could feel tears brimming in his eyes.

when she let him go, she patted his shoulder and went over to where the trainer was already talking to his dad. it took about five seconds for something very solid to launch itself into his arms.

“be careful, pony!” darry turned his head to see soda anxiously chasing after their brother. it was only around then that darry realized that it was ponyboy that was hanging off of him, and he wrapped his own shaking arms around his brother. he could feel pony trembling against him.

he wanted to tell pony he was okay, he wanted to say that he didn’t need to worry, but he just couldn’t. words still felt mixed up and confusing, so he let go of his 8-year-old brother and pushed him back a bit. pony’s eyes were glassy and darry felt the ache in his head migrate to his heart as he realized how badly this had probably scared pony, who was already way more anxious than any kid his age had business being. he gently rested their foreheads together for a second before pressing a kiss to his hair.

“are you okay?” soda asked, sitting down next to darry on the bench and leaning up against his side. darry just threw an arm over soda’s shoulders and pulled pony into another hug.

it was a mark of how badly the hit had scared them that they were so close and clingy with him in such a public place. soda, now 10 years old, had slowly been growing out of needing hugs from his big brother as much as he used to, and pony, ever soda’s shadow, was beginning to pull back as well. but there they were, huddled up with their big brother on a football field.

after a few minutes, their parents came back over and their dad kneeled down in front of darry.

“well junior, we’re gonna have to go to the hospital. the trainer is pretty sure you’ve got a concussion,” he said sadly. ponyboy made a small squeak, and their dad grabbed one of his hands and smiled. “oh, but it’s gonna be alright, kiddo! darry’s brain just got rattled around a little bit. if he were smart like you, his brain would be bigger and it wouldn’t clunk around so darn much. but it’s all gonna be okay.”

darry knew their dad was just kidding around, and part of him knew that ponyboy was well aware that concussions didn’t work that way, but the anxiety in his chest seemed to lessen when ponyboy giggled.

their dad wrapped an arm around darry’s shoulder and helped him to his feet so they could head to the car. mama came back over and grabbed pony and soda’s hands to start walking with them to the bus stop to go home. pony looked sadly back at darry, dragging his feet as mama guided him along, and watched soda throw a few nervous glances back at him.

darry felt like he was going to collapse when they finally got home, and he was pretty sure that had nothing to do with his concussion. he practically fell into mama’s arms and gladly let her hold him close on the couch while his dad explained what had happened at the hospital. darry would most likely be out of football for the rest of the season, and he wasn’t allowed back at school for a few days.

“but it still could have been worse,” mama kissed his head gently as she smoothed his hair back. “i know this is lousy, but you’re gonna be alright, baby, it’s all gonna work out.”

darry just nodded. she was right, he knew it could have been much worse, but he was still having a hard time being grateful. he could still barely speak. he’d been able to get out a few words in the hospital, but he was still having some trouble stringing his thoughts together.

there was a creak from down the hall, and all three of them turned around to see ponyboy in his train pajamas and wrapped in a blanket standing in the doorway. his face lit up as he saw darry, running over and jumping into darry’s open arms.

“you’re okay!” pony cried, his voice muffled against darry’s jersey, which he was still wearing from the game.

darry held his baby brother as tight as he could, pressing a kiss to pony’s soft auburn hair. he could feel the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders easing.

“be gentle, pony,” their mother scolded, but there was no real malice in her voice. “darry’s had a long night, sweetheart, how about you head back to bed? soda will probably give you lots of snuggles and dad will come tuck you in.”

pony looked up at darry sadly and squeezed him tighter.

darry opened his mouth slowly, “can pony stay with me, mama?”

mama looked shocked for a moment, but seemed to fold under the pressure of both of her boys silently pleading with her to let them stay together, “…okay, pony, go get your blanket while darry gets changed.”

darry headed back to his room and slowly started to change his clothes, keeping his overhead light off in favor of his aching eyes and wincing while he stretched his sore shoulders out. he looked at the bed and almost shed a tear with how welcoming it seemed after the night he’d had.

there was a soft knock at the door and it opened a moment later. pony had a blanket in his hands and let out a huge yawn. darry couldn’t help but laugh at him a little bit.

“c’mon, kiddo, you look like you’re gonna fall over,” he smiled meekly, and pony hopped up onto the bed, plastering himself to darry’s side when he laid down.

“that was really scary.”

“what? me getting hit?” darry asked, and pony nodded anxiously. “oh, baby, that was nothing.”

“but you got hurt. you were laying on the field. soda and i were so scared…”

darry’s breath hitched in his throat, guilt building in his chest. he pulled pony closer to him, finding comfort in feeling his steady breaths.

“it’s football, it happens. i’m gonna be okay, though. you heard dad, if my brain were a little bit bigger it wouldn’t have happened at all.”

pony thought for a second, “i can read you some of my books if you think that would help…”

darry laughed, “i’ll let you know, but i think now it’s time to go to sleep.”

pony snuggled impossibly closer, “mm, okay.”

by the time mama came in to say goodnight, they were both already asleep, and when she came to wake up darry in the morning only to find soda squeezed in next to pony, she couldn’t bring herself to wake them up just yet. she waited in the doorway and watched the rise and fall of their chests, pony sandwiched between his brothers.

the world could wait, they needed each other.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Interruption | Part 06

-> Pairing: mafia husband!Kim Hongjoong x mafia wife!Reader

-> Sypnosis: It all comes to an end.

-> Warnings: Mafia AU. Poorly written gun violence and physical violence. Murder. Attempted Murder. Everything that comes with a mafia au.

-> Word Count: 2,449

-> Taglist: Still open for those who want to still be tagged in future add-ons to this AU. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

-> Author's Note: This is the final part but I don't feel ready to give up this unexpected mini series. If you would like to see more, you can request one of imagines/scenarios. Maybe I'll even add more to how beginning of Hongjoong and Y/N's relationship if anyone wants it. Requests are open.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

As Y/N goes to exit the makeshift hospital room, the lights suddenly go out, enveloping the mansion in darkness. “I should have known,” she mutters to herself. Drawing her gun, she grabs her phone and calls Wooyoung, who has just stepped out. “Tell the men to stay here. It seems we have a visitor,” she tells him after he answers. 

"I'll have them sweep the area," he tells her.  

"I’ll keep watch from here," she says, her mind racing with various scenarios.  

After Wooyoung hangs up, Y/N takes a deep breath, her instincts kicking in. A nagging suspicion tells her that Ri Mi-Rae's somehow infiltrated the mansion grounds, and that her sighting at the docks was merely a diversion. She moves carefully toward the window, her senses on high alert as she looks down at the grounds. The darkness is dense, but she knows this mansion intimately.  

Suddenly, a soft noise from the hallway outside draws her attention. She turns to the door, straining to hear, her grip on her gun tightening as she approaches the door. Just then, she hears a sound behind her, and before she can react, an arm wraps around her neck, squeezing tightly as the person pulls her back against them. At that moment, the generators roar to life, and the lights flicker back on. 

"Let go of me!" she hisses, twisting her body in an attempt to break free. The arm around her neck tightens, and she feels the pressure constricting her airway. Her fight or flight instincts kick in, and with a swift motion, she aims her gun at what she hopes is the intruder's foot and pulls the trigger. The person releases her immediately and she spins around, gasping for breath, only to find her latest hire staring at her in shock. A quick glance at his foot reveals that she missed entirely, but the shot was enough to startle him into letting her go.  

Raising the gun, she aims it at his head, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pull the trigger right now.” 

"I-I—" he stammers, struggling to find the right words.  

Just as she pulls the trigger, shooting the young man, another arm wraps around her neck again, this one slimmer than the first. She doesn’t need to guess who it is as she fights against her new enemy.  

"Stop resisting, or I’ll kill you right in front of your husband," Mi-Rae threatens. "He’ll wake up to find your cold, lifeless body lying beside him,” she continues. "I wasn't just trained as a spy; I'm also an assassin." 

Y/N feels the pressure of Mi-Rae's arm around her neck, the threat of suffocation looming. She stops struggling and relaxes her body. It has the desired effect as Mi- Rae loosens her grip enough for her to make a move. With a sudden burst of strength, she twists her body, using her free hand to jab at Mi-Rae's side. The so-called assassin stumbles slightly, loosening her grip just enough for Y/N to get out of her hold.  

"You're not the only one trained to fight," Y/N growls, her resolve hardening. She pivots to face Mi-Rae fully, and in one fluid motion, she brings her gun up, aiming it directly at the assassin's heart. “It seems you’re a little rusty.” 

Mi-Rae, filled with rage, lunges at her. Y/N quickly shoots her in the chest stopping her. She watches as Mi-Rae stumbles back clutching her chest, her eyes wide with shock. The blood from the gunshot wound leaks through her fingers.  

Fueled by rage, Mi-Rae lunges at her. Y/N reacts quickly, shooting her in the chest. She watches as Mi-Rae stumbles back, dropping her gun while clutching her chest, her eyes wide with disbelief. Blood seeps through her fingers as she collapses to the floor. Y/N steps closer, kicking the gun away, sending it skidding near the hospital bed.  

"Why did you come for me?" Y/N asks, her expression unreadable as she stands over the older woman, watching her gasping for breath. "How long have you been planning this?" 

"It was never supposed to be you," Mi-Rae manages to say between labored breaths. "Y-You were meant to-to die w-with your m-mother, but then he-he found you and-and took you in."  

"This has all been about Kim Dong-Yul?" Y/N asks, thinking of the man who took her in after her mother’s death.  

The memories of her childhood flood back—fragments of a life spent on the streets, always looking over her shoulder, always fighting to survive and avoid being a statistic at the orphanage. Kim Dong-Yul had been her savior, a beacon of hope in a world that had shown her nothing but cruelty.  

Dong-Yul, who was also Hongjoong's uncle, found her on the street after she had stolen an apple from a market stall. He claimed to be her uncle and took full custody of her when the authorities finally caught up to her. He raised her as his daughter and transformed her into the woman she is today. When he fell ill three years ago, she headed his empire, transforming it into the success it is now. It officially became hers seven months ago after Kim Dong-Yul passed away from his illness, leaving his Kim empire to her in his will. 

"Why?" Y/N demanded, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling within her. She places a heeled foot on Mi-Rae's hand that’s covering her wound and applies pressure. "Why would you want me dead? What did I ever do to you?" 

Mi-Rae's face twisted in pain, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—betrayal, resentment. Her breath grows shallower as she continues to talk. "When we found out you weren’t killed, your father and I were going to use you as a pawn to get to him. But when he took you in, you became stronger, smarter and unpredictable. You became a rival,” she begins to explain. “Kim Dong-Yul promised me everything when we were together and then your mother came along, oblivious to the fact she had gained the attention of the biggest crime lord in South Korea,” She pauses to take a deep breath. “I-I bet you didn’t know that,” she lets out a chuckle mixed with a groan. 

Y/N pressing her foot down, putting even more pressure on the wound. “I know more than you think. I heard stories all about Ahn Iseul, another alias of yours. Just so you know, no one liked you. Everyone was relieved when Dong-Yul got rid of you.”  

“Did you know it was your father’s idea to have you and your mother killed?” she groaned. “I may have seduced him to get back at your mother for stealing Dong-Yul's attention, but I wasn’t the one who suggested we kill you. He wanted to be rid of you as well as her. Your father is a bigger monster than you think,” She pauses for a moment before speaking again. “I suggest-” 

She’s cut off when a gunshot echoes throughout the room. Y/N holds the smoking gun, pointed at Mi-Rae's head. “One down, one to go,” she says coldly, removing her foot from Mi-Rae's lifeless body. 

“Drop it, Y/N,” her biological father’s voice fills the room. “I don’t want to have to shoot you.” 

“Have you killed anyone before, Appa?” She questions him, not bothering to raise her gun. With everything she had endured and the shocking truths she was uncovering, she’s exhausted. She’s also pretty sure her father wouldn’t have the balls to shoot her. “Or have you always gotten someone else to do it for you?” 

“You’re a monster,” Ha-Joon repeats his words from a week ago. 

“It seems to be genetic,” she replies. “You, me, Ha-Na. Though I doubt Ha-Na had much of a chance with a psychotic mother like Mi-Rae,” her voice takes on a taunting tone. “Before you left eomma, I thought you could do no wrong. But you proved me wrong. You showed me how weak and pathetic you actually are.” 

“I’d shut up if I were you!” he warns her. 

“Or what? Your fragile ego won’t have it and you’ll do the dirty work yourself?” she taunts. “Like I said, your weak and pathetic. I can’t believe I came from someone like you.” 

With anger on his face, Ha-Joon steps towards her, pressing his gun against her head, the cool metal of the nuzzle brushing against her heated skin. 

“Do it,” she tells him. “If my husband dies, I have no reason to live anymore,” she says watching her father’s eyes glance towards the bed where Hongjoong lays. “Kill me like you should have done all those years ago,” she insists, her tone now commanding. “End me and take over the Kim Empire. That’s what you and Mi-Rae wanted, right?” 

Instead of firing, he retracts his hand and strikes her across the face with the gun, sending her to the ground. She whips her head around to glare at him, her cheek already reddening and swelling from the blow, filled with all the hatred she can muster. He looms over her, gun once more pressed against her head. 

“Prove that little girl wrong, Appa,” she continues to taunt him, showing him that she’s not scared of him or dying. “Prove to her that you're no longer a weak and pathetic coward.” 

“Stop,” he warns her, his hand shaking and face turning red with rage.  

"Go ahead, shoot me," she replies, her voice unwavering. As the gun presses firmly against her head, she shuts her eyes. The sound of the gun clicking makes her brace for the bullet that could take her life.  

A gunshot echoes, making her flinch, but when she doesn’t feel the grip of death, she opens her eyes to see Hongjoong in front of her, holding the gun she had kicked away from Mi-Rae, while her lifeless father lies on the ground.  

"Hongjoong?" she whispers softly, her eyes wide with surprise and heart pounding against her chest, uncertain if she has truly escaped death.  

He hears her, and in an instant, the gun drops from his hand, clattering to the ground as he kneels in front of her. The world around them fades away, and she throws herself into his arms. He holds her close, as her tears flow freely, as she buries her face into his shoulder, the flood of emotions she’s been holding back all week finally pouring out. 

“I thought I lost you,” she whispers, her voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” he assures her, his voice hoarse from not having used it for a week. He pulls back, lifting her head so he can look at her. “We��re even now,” he smiles at her lovingly as he wipes her tears away.  

She chuckles and brings him in for a kiss. “I love you,” she says after pulling away. 

“I love you too,” he replies bringing her back in for another kiss. 

15 Months Later.

Y/N walks into the at home office she shares with Hongjoong, her voice bright and cheerful as she sings "Happy Birthday" to her husband. She cradles their nine-month-old daughter, who giggles in delight at the sound of her mother’s voice, in one arm while her free hand holds on to a plate with a small birthday cake on it. 

Hongjoong looks up from his work, a surprised smile spreading across his face as he takes in the sight of his wife and daughter. His heart swells with affection as he watches his little family approach him. The office, usually filled with work and meetings transforms into a sanctuary of love and celebration. 

"Happy Birthday, my love," Y/N exclaims when she finishes singing.  

Hongjoong stands up, blows out the single candle in the cake and scoops both Y/N and their daughter into a warm embrace, feeling the stress of the paperwork, he’d been working on lifts off his shoulders.  

Not long after the events of last year, they found out that Y/N was pregnant and further along than they had anticipated. Given everything, they had been through, the happy news came at just the right time, giving the couple something to be excited about and look forward to. There were many instances when they thought about how close they came to missing out on where they are now. The thought of what could have been, had circumstances been different, often lingered in their minds, but now, with their daughter nestled between them, those worries felt distant. 

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He gently takes their daughter from Y/N as she sets the cake on the desk. "What have my two favorite girls been up to?" 

"We spent most of the morning brainstorming ways to lure you away from work so you could celebrate your birthday with us instead of being shut in the office all day," Y/N replies, her tone playful and teasing. "We figured a cake and gifts might do the trick." 

Hongjoong chuckles, his eyes sparkling with affection as he cradles their daughter against his chest. She coos softly, her tiny fingers reaching out to grasp at his shirt as she relaxes in his arms. 

"You two are the only birthday gifts I need," he says, his voice warm and sincere. He glances at the cake, a sitting on his desk. "Did you bake that yourself?" 

"Remember the last time I attempted to bake a cake? I think the smoke alarm still has PTSD from that disaster," Y/N chuckles, shaking her head at the memory. The last time she attempted to do any kind of baking she burnt it to a crisp. Cooking was fine, but baking just isn't her strong suit.  

"Well, I think your plan is working," he smiles. "Shall we get out of here?" 

Y/N nods and picks up the cake again, following Hongjoong out of their home office and down the stairs to the kitchen. 

Once they reach the kitchen, Y/N sets the cake down on the kitchen island and grabs a knife for Hongjoong to cut it. 

“Okay, birthday boy, what’s the plan?” Y/N asks as she leans against the counter, watching him cut the cake into pieces. "I got us this far. You can come up with the rest." 

"How about we pack a bag or two and head to the beach for the weekend? No work. No empire. Just me and my ladies," he suggests.

Y/N's eyes light up at the idea, a smile spreading across her face. "The beach? That sounds perfect to me." 

"Let's do it then," he says as he finishes slicing the cake and hands her a piece. 

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[screampied]

❛ BED CHEM! ❜ t. fushiguro + k. nanami

☆ sum. being sandwiched between two of your co-stars during a séx scene sounds like a fever dream. the real fever dream is finding out who you have better bed chemistry with. the sweet blond who always talks you through it or the smug dark haired one who’s constantly stealing your panties.

wc. 5.9k

warnings. fem! reader, actor au, thréesomes, unprotected, semi-public, they eat you out at the same time, cervix mentions, premature ejac, size difference, dirty talk, pússy drunk men, praise, spít roasting, óral (f! & m! receiving), hair pulling, size kinks, bóob fondling, overstim.

“annnnd action.”

you mentally bite your lip, feeling every nerve through your body convulse from your co-stars touches. toji fushiguro and nanami kento—the most current hottest topic, you had this last scene to shoot for a movie you were the lead in. the scene in question was quite raunchy to say the least, both of them take turns to plant soft chaste kisses down both sides of your neck. both signature scents of their colognes were loud, a musk that forevermore wafts against your nose. your eyes flicker toward the camera every so often, trying to stay in character. this was probably the fifth take—you had a bit of a bad habit of missing your lines so there’d be a few retakes. emphasis on few.

“ken, look at her,” toji murmurs, and a gasp merely slips from you once his parted tongue creeps past his lips and onto your neck. his hand slowly trails toward your thigh and he squeezes it. “such a pretty thing. want more, do ya princess?”

you nod as a response but that’s when nanami’s hand gently cups underneath your chin. gingerly, a thumb ghosts by your bottom lip and he speaks sweetly. “ah, now sweetheart. we talked about that, we need a pretty answer from you, not a nod.”

“i- i want more,” you stammer, and as toji’s scarred hands continue to roam down your body, you suck in a keen sharp breath. the air felt substantially thick, mainly due to how all three of you were acting in a big spacey sauna. your hand grabs toji’s wrist and you slowly guide it down between the valley of your legs. the static of his plump shriveled fingertips brush up between the crevices of your thighs and it nearly makes you break character. “i want you both, please.”

“aw,” toji hums hoarsely, his pursed lips forming into a wry grin.

the more their hands ran down every inch of your body, the more your heart beat raced. its thumping quickened, and your thighs forcibly squeeze themselves together. the dark haired male softly creates circles around your thighs with a single digit before speaking breathlessly. “you want both of us, huh. not jus one? that’s bein’ pretty greedy, doll.”

“toji, she can be greedy if she wants,” nanami coos, and you make direct contact with him. .

the nanami kento, you’ve heard a lot about him. him and toji were both hot favored actors but him. actresses would kill to be in your role, kill to be in your shoes.

nanami kento was as smooth as they come.

suave, a gentleman, and of course, a smooth talker. your eyes gawk down his attire and he’s wearing nothing but casual—his sleeves were sexily rolled up and his usually parted blond hair was slightly ruffled and unkempt - most likely due to the growing humidity of the sauna.

tender brown eyes bore into you before he places a kiss near the twitching corner of your mouth. “relax, sweetheart. you’ll get what you want, promise. just be a good girl. can you do that?”

feeling as if your thighs were stuck together by imaginary adhesive glue, you let off a soft panting whine. “y- yes,” and you gasp, watching as toji’s head creeps lower. he’s being slow on purpose, teasing you—wanting for you to long for more, for him to hurry up.

a few bristles of his hair tickles and pokes against your leg before your chin’s softly being grabbed by nanami again.

“ah ah, eyes on me. don’t worry about him, focus just on me sweetheart,” and the two of you lock eyes. nanami’s dimples poke against the left side of his lips and he’s so pretty, he cups your cheek and you instantly lean into his touch. “good girl, get lost in my eyes.”

your mind’s running at such quick speed—it’s trying to remember the next parts of the script as they continue the foreplay. nothing could really be heard except for nanami’s gruff low voice and the faint whirring inside of the sauna.

the next scene, nanami would lean in for a kiss and toji would eat you out. you remember looking over the filthy script many months ago before you even landed the roll.

as your eyes would skim through every word, the explicit dialogue—the mannerisms they’d perform on you, a school of swarming butterflies would pour inside the pits of your stomach.

and now, it’s finally here.

it’s as if time stood still once nanami starts to lean in, closing the awkward distance between you two. once his lips gently crash onto yours, it’s as if your heart stopped for a minute. tender, passionate, and open-mouthed.

your head slightly tilts as you part your lips wider to give him access. nanami lowly groans in your mouth, tasting your syrupy saliva tangle against his own. “mhm,” and every few seconds, loud echoing smacks would slam against both lips. he tastes minty, but on his tongue you could also taste a bit of alcohol lingering on his breath. it’s sweet, and you wanted more. whilst his tongue���s being shoved down your throat, toji scoffs. he’s propped right up between your legs and you feel his big wide hands spread your thighs more.

a nonplus gasp leaves your lips at his roughly gentle touch — your body can’t help but grind against nanami, wrapping an arm and tossing it over his shoulder. “fuck,” you speak between sultry hot kisses, another one of your hands running down the bare slit part of his exposed chest. there, you’re met with a few curls of blond chest hair. you twirl it around with your finger and he groans in your mouth at your touch. back to toji, he starts slow. he creates sloppy wet licks and kisses that trail all down from your waist until he’s finally near your shorts.

“watch that mouth of yours,” toji utters, hot breath ghosting between your thighs.

he’d get closer and closer, closer until he’s just inches away from your the pretty fabric that sticks against your skin. verdant green eyes peer into the cloth that’s attached to your panties and he hums. “cute,” he rasps, pulling down the hem of your shorts for a quick inside peek. “looks like you remembered to wear panties this time after all. somebody’s learnin’, heh.”

“toji, stop teasing me,” your breath hitches, feeling nanami pull away to kiss near your neck once more. he was so gentle, curling his tongue around that sweet spot buried right near the inside of your neck and it makes you oh so weak.

toji just gives you a sly deadpans at you needy comment, slowly pulling down your denim bedazzled shorts.

with a scoff, he tugs on your panties with his teeth. “nah,” and with the fabric in his mouth, his words were a bit muffled. “dunno what’s the point of wearing these stupid things since ‘m jus gonna steal them again anyway.”

a breath gets lodged in your throat once nanami starts to suck against your neck, his teeth gingerly grazing against your skin. his breath was always so warm, every time it sets against your bare flesh you moan. as your glossy eyes ogle down back at nanami, you huff with a cute frustrated expression. your eyebrows knit and compress together and you merely whine. “just hurry the fuck up,” and your neck starts to lean back a bit. with both men having their hands on you—you weren’t sure how long you’d last.

constantly, you had to keep reminding yourself, it’s just a movie, it’s just another scene. .

or is it?

you’re entrapped inside of your thoughts, fully forgetting that you’re on film. as you’re in a temporary fantasm—you bite your lip before a clammy hand finds its way through toji’s shaggy ravened strands. instantaneously, black tresses entwine between your silvery fingers and you moan. he lays his tongue flat, teasingly lapping near the center part of your panties.

fuck, you’ve read over his parts specifically at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do during this scene but you didn’t expect it to feel this good.

toji’s breath was balmy, slow breaths whirl and fan against your clit that’s just barely being protected by the string of your panties.

nanami’s sloppy kisses trail down toward your chest and oh, you felt like you were floating. “poor baby’s fuckin’ soaked,” toji snickers as a fat thumb drags down your sopping cunt. he’s so quick that you don’t even realized he pulled down your panties—you don’t even know where they went. probably in his pocket, again. you feel a wave of heat flush over you as you can feel his feral gaze stare into your twitching muscle. “look at my girl’s nasty ‘lil pulse.” he hums, and his tongue does one single beginning lick near your folds. you whine, and his cold tongue as cold as ice. it’s a type of feeling you couldn’t put into words.

“toji, don’t hog her. i want a taste too,” nanami says in a gentle voice. speaking of, nanami could say the most nastiest things and it would still end up coming out like a compliment.

“s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, watching both of them with near half-lidded eyes once you see nanami’s head creep down also.

now, you’re being met with a chilling hungry yet feral gaze. you throbbed even more as you’re sprawled all out against the fragile bench of the sauna. tears of perspiration start to bubble against your skin as the heat gets a bit more thicker. it’s humid, and you don’t know if it was the temp of the sauna or them making you feel hot but you wanted more. your eyes meet them again, and you feel yourself getting more aroused once you realize. . they were both down on their knees for you.

to your left—there’s toji, he’s got the must smug expression. already near the left side of his lip, there’s a few droplets of your honeyed slick coating against his mouth. all from a single lick, you felt embarrassed at how wet you were. it was actually in the script that they would use lube to help you but clearly, you didn’t need it in the slightest. toji’s wearing a burgundy tank top that nearly sticks against his hard toned pecs. he’s so toned, a burly beefy body that looks almost chiseled, stoned. he looks like he’s been literally carved and sculptured from top to bottom. your eyes stare at his broad shoulders, his thick pecs, and even how a few of his black chest hairs pokes out from his shirt.

and then to your right, there’s nanami. a thumb of his slowly makes its way down your drooling salivating cunt and he’s almost in awe.

his pink glossy lips press up towards your entrance before he gives it a soft welcoming kiss. you moan at how delicate he was, and the longing tender stare he constantly gave you merely made your knees buckle. as the humidity rises in the sauna, strands of his hair continue to swelter against his forehead with the help of slimy sweat.

“my, my,” he purrs in a low voice, and they’re both right between your thighs. you couldn’t help but feel a palpitating sensation brew up between your legs. “we’ve got ourselves a wet one, toji.”

“yeah,” the dark haired murmurs, and his eyes narrow. but toji wasn’t fond of sharing - not one bit.

with a piqued eye roll, he leans in to lap his tongue against your pussy once more before nanami follows.

you release a sweet elongated moan you were holding in for the longest - but you remembered you had to be dramatic for the scene — fake.

that was kind of hard considering the blatant fact that yhey were actually making you feel good. but alas, you lazily slouch back against the wooden bench, letting off your best exaggerated moan.

nanami and toji both look at you at the same time and toji refrains himself from bursting out laughing. staying in character, he clears his throat, spanking your cunt. you moan, and your grip against his hair becomes more rough. he feels you yanks forward with a solid tug, grunting, and that’s when you feel nanami’s soft tongue present itself too.

slow, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit and your eyes gradually roll themselves back. it’s now to where they’re both lapping up your dripping taste at the exact same time—both sloppy tongues flicking and slithering against your cunt oh, and you were an entire mess. it’s as if they were competing against each other. as they both bury their heads between your thighs, you start to shake, dragging their heads back and forth into your sopping pussy.

with your toes curling and your chest heaving, you mewl out a sweet whine. “oh my g-god,” your voice squeaks out, swallowing your own sheer arousing embarrassment.

their breaths collide against each other and land right on your pussy. so pretty, nanami’s eyes were closed whilst toji’s were wide open. he’s giving you a smug cheeky grin the entire time, using a thumb to occasionally glissade down against your twitching pussy. “damn, taste so sweet,” toji grunts, and you can hear the salacious timbre in his voice. a voice so deep that your thighs vibrate together. fuck, your hands end up delving through each of their strands of hair, tightly pulling them closer towards your pulsating heat.

both hairs curl within your fingers before you pull their faces even closer against your crying cunt, almost suffocating them. “mhm,” toji’s lips nearly glue against your pasty folds.

nanami’s tongue romantically swirls itself around until it reaches near your sweet nub.

that spot - your brain haphazardly haywires and short circuits right away and your knees almost collapse. “fuck, f- fuck ‘ken.” you gasp, dragging his head up. once you do, you’re met with a sleazy smile—he’s pussy drunk. it takes you a minute to realize maybe he’s not being in character anymore. nanami’s dimple still prods against both sides of his cheeks before he leans down, spitting right against your cunt.

“go on, ‘toj. lick it up since you wanna be greedy,” nanami playfully titters, running a hand through his hair just so he could touch your fingers.

toji’s shooting vexed daggers toward the blond before he’s almost nose deep against your pussy.

once he’s actually nose deep, he sniffs your cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right up. he does it all while staring at you too. “hmph,” he grouses, his long tongue moving toward nanami’s area, now slurping up nanami’s own sheeny trickling saliva.

you couldn’t lie, watching the entire risqué scene of both men fighting over eating you out right before you, right between your legs made you throb even more.

toji’s raven arched brows tweak inward before a hand of his pries your left thigh further apart. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what ‘ta do.”

nanami chuckles, pressing kisses near the warm crevices of your thighs. fawn sparkling irises flicker toward you before he whispers. “you doin’ okay, sweetheart. ‘s alright?”

“y- yeah,” your voice grows more shaky as toji continues. as if it had a mind of its own, a hand of yours tugs on nanami’s hair, guiding his head back toward between your thighs. nanami shakes his head with a cunning smile, going back to lapping at your tasty treat stored right between your plush thighs. swallowing a circled lump that resides at the back of your throat, your legs start to jolt. “f- fuuuuck,” your voice strains, and toji and nanami’s just making out with your pussy.

you watch the entire time—occasionally glancing up at the large propped up canon camera that’s a few feet away from you. oh right, it’s just a scene.

you were practically using your bottom lip as chewing gum with how they were vigorously eating out your starved cunt as if it was their last meal. they both used their crimpy long tongues to create such filthy circles and shapes on and around your pussy, maneuvering their fingers inside your cunt and all.

your breath starts to grow more and more irregular — changing its speed to being a lot more quicker the more they remain sat between your thighs.

“she’s gettin’ close,” toji murmurs between sloshes of smacks with his lips. each lewd ‘pop’ he makes with his lips leaves you dizzy and begging for more. the edge of his scar that runs down the right side of his mouth smears and rubs all up against your clit and it feels so good. it tickles, but in a more raunchy kind of way.

with nanami occasionally blowing and whistling against your folds, you were surely about to lose it. your mind’s spiraling—and as your fingers remain tangled in both ruffled strands and curls of hair, their chins start to glimmer and stream down with your candied slick. “look at me, girl.” toji pats your cunt, although it’s more of a wet slap. you whimper, moist doused droplets coming from your own pussy wetting his palm right away.

your eyes meet toji and the laps of his tongue grow faster. he’s munching against your pussy, swerving his head from back and forth before he grunts, playfully biting down on your clit. not hard, but enough to where it makes you let off a cute shriek. “cum, cum on my tongue, baby.”

“ah, i think you mean cum on mine,” nanami corrects him, giving your sensitive twitching clitoral hood a single kiss.

your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, but you can’t even reply because within seconds, you’re cumming, hard.

your mouth slightly drops whilst your jaw dramatically hangs open—pathetically dangling open as they’re still lapping you clean. both scorching hot tips of your ears were stuffed with imaginary fuzz. you couldn’t hear for a few long seconds—not to mention, your body was being invaded by a plethora of tingles that shot through your body.

“f-fuuuckk,” you whine, and you’re uncontrollably shaking. it’s a rush, a crazed rush that you do don’t want to stop. as you’re spasming, you glance down at the two of them.

“mphm,” toji’s still slurping at your dewy slick juices that stream from you before nanami’s tongue gets tangled with his. he blinks thrice, and their lips abruptly meet. panting and heaving, you watch—not really remembering if that was on script but neither exactly pulls away.

they’re focusing their sloppy slick tongues on your spasming convulsing cunt while mashing glossed lips together. you throbbed at the lewd sight of your two co-stars, seeing toji grow flustered and nanami being a bit more dominant.

that was rare, as stoic as of a man that he was, you’d last expect to see toji this way. you moan, still felling their sloshing wet tongues twirl around the insides of your sobbing pussy all whilst they’re making out. at contact, they’re both tasting nothing but you on their tongues the entire time, a concoction of saliva entangles with each other as they relish in savoring your sweet taste on their tastebuds.

“maybe you’re the one who needed attention,” nanami gradually pulls away, stands of shimmery saliva dragging away from both pursed lips.

“tch. shut up,” toji grumbles, and he focuses back toward you. he slides a tongue across and over crooked his lips.

the next thing you knew—you were being lifted up, tossed right over toji’s burly shoulder.

you gasp, feeling nanami’s gentle eyes bore into your curves before he positions you, using a single hand to spread your shivering thighs apart. you were still a bit shaky and sensitive from your most recent release—your teeth still shattered and saw how their jaws locked, especially toji’s.

you felt every nerve jolt through your body, coursing through your veins.

but once the actual scene came, you were screwed.

it wasn’t fake anymore, your orgasms and moans were very much real now. and that was perfect, you were perfect, because behind the lens—it not only felt real but it looked real too.

your pretty expressions, your flat pink tongue lolling out of your mouth and the way you’re panting. toji’s fucking you from behind and he’s just mean. hard thorough strokes that makes his hips snap right into you, crash into you at full speed to where he’s creating a fatal collision.

“ah, open,” nanami whispers, and your eyelids that were practically droopy glance up. you’re met with nanami. the blond’s got a hand resting on top of the crown of your head before he taps a thumb against your cheek. “let me see that pretty mouth some more, my love,” and you lean into his touch. toji’s hips however were so rude—your sweet incoherent babbles soon starts to grow a bit more quavery due to how rickety he made your body. the olden wood of the sauna nearly splits and you can hear the blaring cracks after each rocky thrust. your lips part open and your eyes go straight toward his cock. his boxers were halfway on with the cerulean blue hem of it just hanging and protecting his sharp carvend v-line.

so pretty, you just wanted to run your tongue up and down and across every line and spot that decorates his soft skin.

“ngh, a-atta girl,” the blond’s brows reluctantly twist together, watching your warm mouth slowly take him in fully.

god, your eyes were so mesmerizing to look at. he delicately cups underneath your chin, feeling the minuscule amounts of saliva drip from your lips. your jaw remains to hang open, dangling like an earring—and that’s when he’s slowly inching himself inside your tight warm throat.

immediately, you see a bit of his blond curly pubes through your blurred peripherals. nanami’s abs clench and tighten at the feeling of your hot mouth and he groans. “my good . . girl, ugh. pretty girl with an even prettier throat.”

toji’s still propped up behind you, two broad hands attached to your waist—practically glued on. you whine, your sweet noises becoming muffled as his hips plummet into you raw.

you feel your toes curl up within each sloppy degrading thrust he makes. as you’re taking nanami’s cock, you swirl your tongue around his mushroom tip that’s got a faint splash of pink painting near the very top. he’s bittersweet, your lashes flutter as your pretty plump lips envelope around his hefty length. a single prodding vein that runs down his cock twitches inside of your mouth and you moan at the feeling.

“fuck,” toji hisses, feeling your gummy insides squeeze and clamp around him. you’ve got your back arched as your hands cling onto the sauna’s ligneous bench.

the furniture’s woody and it continuously tottering by the second—loudly creaking as his pivotal strokes deepen. every few seconds, he’d swat a palm against your ass just to hear your cute whimpers. toji likes to gawk at the recoil, the way your ass cheek jolts back against his hand from the spank, it’s cute.

the concise twinges that follow from his hand makes your moans get louder, reverberating through the thin tapered walls of the sauna.

raspy pants leave from toji’s gruff vocal chords before his callous fingertips dig deep into the fat of your hips. his foot’s tapping against the floor as his head slightly cocks itself back. “mhm, shit. such a nasty girl, gettin’ stuffed from front ‘ta back. ‘s that what you really wanted, hm?”

since your mouth was currently occupied with nanami’s thick inches—you nod while starting to feel his bulbous tip repeatedly thwack back against the roof of your mouth. your eyes squeeze shut for a second as you’re twirling your tongue around his veiny length. steadily, nanami’s cock grows inside your mouth and you happily keep it warm. each twitching vein that runs down his shaft, you flick your tongue against it just to hear him moan out your name. you’re so aroused that you try to sneak a hand down between your trembly thighs, only to be swatted away by toji’s hand. you whine, a pout forming against your swollen lips as his pace quickens.

“no touchin’ my pussy,” he mumbles, and you felt yourself twitch. now that wasn’t in the script, but the more he smacked your cunt, the more you felt extra butterflies stir inside your stomach.

toji’s got such a good angle on you—he’s ferocious, ravaging through your pasty walls, feeling your sloppy slick run all down his cock.

your ass almost glues against his pelvis, and that’s when he leans right up against you. skin against skin, big hands reach near your chest, toying with your bouncy neglected tits. you moan, feeling his thumbs curl and squeeze against your perky nipples that poke through the blouse of your shirt. “such a pretty rack, yeah,” he lowly whispers, licking near your neck. his voice was so low up against your ear. so low, the playfulness in his voice was almost enough to make you cream on his cock right then. toji’s base was very full, and he’s now just smacking against your bare ass with. a few seconds later, he groans, feeling the brief pangs of electricity ripple near the undersides of his meaty calves. “ugh, god such a pretty view like this though. ‘ken fuckin’ wishes he had my spot.”

“oh, don’t flatter yourself, toji,” the blond hums, though as he’s speaking, you could tell he’s flustered.

your tongue has nanami stammering a bit, he’s patting your head, strumming a thumb against your pursed lips. once he meets your gaze, his breath nearly gets stolen away. “you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” and you watch his adam’s apple bobble. his praise warmed something in your heart.

it was something about being degraded from behind and praised near the front.

toji’s reeling your ass further back into his hips with ease whilst you’re focusing your eyes strictly on nanami. nanami’s heart races at the sight of you and now, he’s wondering if this really is just a scene anymore.

he found himself getting lost in your eyes—maybe it was a bit unprofessional, but you’ve had the gaze of an ethereal galaxy. the way your pupils would doe up and dilate as your head goes up and down against his length, he wanted more of you.

“that’s it,” he grunts, running a hand through his matted blond strands. nanami nearly loses his balance once your sucking turns into slurping. you’re a mess, your entire chin being damp because of your own saliva. he wipes some of it up with his thumb, only to taste it himself and he moans. your head continuing to bobble and he’s about to break, no, he is breaking. “slobber a- all on it, don’t be shy pretty girl. ‘s okay to be my messy girl. there we go.”

“tch.” toji’s eyes roll, and he’s still striking into you. your cunt was clingy, gripping around him tightly like a vice. the feeling makes his jaw tighten whilst your stomach seizes in rapture. he’s so deep, your limbs felt so flimsy as your pathetic breaths start to get more strained and breathy.

toji’s grip was angry, it’s french kissing right up against your cervix and you can’t help but let off a squeal. right there, he knows that’s your sweet spot and once he suddenly realizes it, his rude thrusts become purely maddened.

more souse streams of saliva drips down your chin as you’re slathering the entirety of nanami’s cock with your own filthy viscid spit. you look so pretty, cock drunk and on the verge of finishing yet again.

toji fucks like a madman—each stroke felt like your entire body was gonna snap in half. his body’s hovering over you and his warm completely radiates against your own. he’s so close that he’s merely humping you, sloppy greedy strokes becoming more feral as the seconds pass. his tip massaged your walls through and through, and your eyes were rolling way back until you saw nothing but pearly white at the back of your sockets.

by this point, this entire scene didn’t feel like you were filming for a movie anymore. it slipped your mind, you forgot this was literally your job.

“s- sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” a husky voice interrupts your thoughts, and your tongue still toys with his leaky slit. a hand of yours wraps around his full base, stroking him with a few good solid pumps and he’s so close. your touch made him shudder, the kind of shudder where he’s just addictive for more.

more of you.

“heh, that’s right. milk the pretty boy, babygirl. he’s all flustered because of y’er throat. that’s rich,” toji snickers, a rough cackle leaving his lips as his eyes meets his abashed co-star.

it was true, nanami was entirely flustered—he’s even avoiding eye contact now and sweating pinballs. toji’s hands were now sweating from the palms and he pulls your hips continuously back into him, each slam becoming more merciless.

but fuck, his cock was just insanely thick — it expanded through your walls as your cunt merrily constricts around his length.

it slides in and out, the squelches that your cunt makes because of it leaves you craving for more. your sopping wet, and he’s only making it ten times worse nanami narrows his eyes at toji’s teasing, lightly pulling your head down just a bit more to keep your attention back towards him. “hah, don’t listen to him, pretty. eyes on me, let me see that gorgeous face ‘m about to p-paint, fuck.”

nanami’s blushing tip reddens, and once he finally cums—it’s so much. it shoots out in stringy milky ropes, velvety and all.

it paints right onto your flat tongue and your eyes snap shut for two seconds at the bittersweet taste. your lips felt tepid, still having your mouth wrap around his cock as his dick now becomes soft and flaccid. “god,” he whines, multiple metallic fingers of his delving in your scalp.

nanami’s so pretty after he finishes, he’s got somewhat of a feverish glow to him and you see his veins pop out through each of his bulky muscles. it shows right through his shirt he wore, which was close enough to being see through.

“take it, swallow it f’ me sweetheart,” and he cups your chin, removing his dick from your dampened lips. his eyes were just as droopy as yours and he’s heavily panting. “ah, can you do that?”

with your cheeks all puffed up and stored full of cum, you’re completely dimwitted. you give him a nod, swallowing the hot seed before taking a second to breath. nanami doesn’t waste any time and he leans in, pulling you into a kiss. “i want a taste of myself too.” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses. as his head lowers to your level, you moan at the feeling of his lips pressing onto yours. it’s passionate, his tongue intertwines with your own and he then roves the tip of his tongue near the crevice of your mouth. there, he tastes a few remnants of his cum and it makes him groan.

toji’s still plowing into your sopping cunt that’s fully drenching down on him before he quips.

“hn. freaks,” and literally seconds after that, his cockiness fades away because he’s now cumming too. it’s quick, it hits him at full force like a speed of a semi-truck. toji’s ramming his cock up against that sweet spongey texture that’s making you whimper before he finishes himself. the build up was practically non existent. it was just sloppy, the hormone rush drives him insane and now he’s the one that’s short-circuiting. “oh s- shit,” he growls, feeling his dick starting to tighten and shrivel up whilst deeply buried inside of you. your grip was just so wet, it makes him suck his teeth in elation at how dripping wet you were.

from the waist down, he feels numb and his hips start to slow. it’s a buzz that even spreads toward his spine and he gruffs, spanking against your ass. “ngh, pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous,” his voice falters, it’s husky low pitch turning more high. it’s cute, and there’s a faint pout growing on toji’s lips.

nanami looks up at him with a flustered expression. “aw, too much for you toji?”

“shut up,” he groans, still feeling the after effects. toji came a lot too, masses of creamy hot cum fills up inside of you before it spurts toward your womb.

your thighs were on its final hinges as you were still arched and hunched over, desperate to see what you looked like from behind.

you were probably a mess, a mess with cum dribbling out of your fluttering hole. a saturated translucent ring forms around his base as he stops his thrusts completely, preparing to pull out. for once, hes speechless—at least for a few seconds anyway. “fuck me,” he groans, and his cock too, was now flaccid and idle.

your fingers run down towards your puffy clit to feel for yourself and oh, it’s even more stuffed than you even imagined.

sappy runny amounts trickle down your cunt, past your swollen lips and onto the sauna’s floor. you moan, squeezing two fingers inside to toy with yourself some more but that’s right when nanami swiftly grabs your wrist.

“ah, no sweetheart. no touching what’s ours,” he whispers, a thumb softly caressing near your palm. he sees the pout that mangles against your lips and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “i’ll think about letting you touch her after we shower.”

“and who says it’s up to you,” toji rolls his eyes, his voice still a bit shaky. he reaches near the glass cabinet for a dry towel before wrapping it around his slim waist. “i mean, i wouldn’t let her touch herself either but still.”

“but—”

“there there,” nanami shushes you, bringing a soft kiss to your lips. your face softens as you return the gesture, and you then gasp once he toji lifts you up. nanami wraps a towel around his waist also, and toji creeps up beside him. cool air wafts against your skin at the sudden movements as he then opens the glass sauna door. “c’mon, let’s at least shower on it.”

as you’re slung over toji’s broad shoulder, your eyes were met with the floor. all of you walk out of the scene set and toji’s big hand squeezes near your ass. “wonder if she can take us both at the same time.”

“she’s a good girl, i think she can,” nanami kisses your forehead as toji walks with you. “right, princess?”

you still felt hot all over your body, but you nod, wrapping your arms around toji’s neck. “y- yeah,” and your nose buries inside the depths of his collarbone. his strong brawny cologne scent again, you’re hit with it face first from each whiff. “i can take you both.”

“um excuse me? this isn’t in the fucking script!”

nanami and toji both glance at the director who’s got a vein popping out of his forehead. toji snickers and nanami grows sheepish.

“eh. it is now,” toji shrugs, and he gives your ass a teasing smack. “c’mon, doll,” and he snickers, turning his head to whisper to you. “we aren’t finished with ya just yet, heh,” and toji glances at the director, giving your ass a spank as you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “cut.”

[pucksandpower]

Jilted

Charles Leclerc x runaway bride!Reader

Summary: you find out that your groom is a cheating bastard on your wedding day … Charles helps you pick up the pieces

The sun-drenched bridal suite buzzes with anticipation as you stand before the full-length mirror, your reflection a vision in white lace and satin. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but something feels ... off.

“You look absolutely stunning,” your best friend, Mia, gushes as she adjusts your veil. “James won’t know what hit him.”

You force a smile, trying to shake the nagging feeling in your gut. “Thanks, Mia. I just ... I can’t believe this is really happening.”

Mia squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Cold feet are totally normal. Trust me, once you see James waiting for you at the altar, all those doubts will melt away.”

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts. Your mother peeks her head in, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

As she enters the room, you notice her clutching her phone, her knuckles white. “Mom? Is everything okay?”

She hesitates, exchanging a worried glance with Mia. “I ... I’m not sure how to say this, honey.”

Your stomach drops. “Mom, what is it? Just tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. “I just got off the phone with James’ mother. She... she overheard him talking to someone. A woman.”

The room spins as you struggle to process her words. “What are you saying?”

“It seems ... it seems James has been seeing someone else. For quite some time, apparently.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. You stumble back, gripping the edge of the vanity for support. “No,” you whisper. “That can’t be true. We’re getting married in an hour!”

Mia rushes to your side, her arm around your waist. “Y/N, breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

But you can’t breathe. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “I need ... I need to talk to him.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re bolting from the room, your dress billowing behind you as you race down the hallway. You burst into the groom’s quarters, startling the group of groomsmen inside.

“Where is he?” You demand, your voice trembling.

James’ best man, Tom, steps forward, his face pale. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s bad luck-”

“Where. Is. He?” You repeat, each word dripping with venom.

The bathroom door opens, and there he stands — the man you thought you’d spend forever with. James’ eyes widen as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

You laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “What’s wrong? How about you tell me, James? Who is she?”

His face crumples, and in that moment, you know it’s true. “Y/N, I can explain-”

“Explain?” You spit. “Explain how you’ve been cheating on me our entire engagement? How you were going to stand up there and lie to my face, in front of everyone we love?”

James reaches for you, but you recoil. “Please, just let me-”

“Don’t touch me!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. “How could you do this to me?”

The room falls silent, save for your ragged breathing. James’ groomsmen shift uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. You turn to leave, but James grabs your arm.

“Y/N, wait. I love you. We can work this out,” he pleads.

You wrench your arm free, fixing him with a glare that could freeze hell itself. “Love me? You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

With that, you’re running again, pushing past concerned guests and ignoring the calls of your name. You burst out of the hotel into the blinding sunlight, your legs carrying you down the street without a destination in mind.

You don’t know how long you run, your white dress now stained with dirt and tears. Eventually, you find yourself in a part of town you don’t recognize, your feet aching and your lungs burning. A neon sign catches your eye — The Dive Hole.

Without thinking, you push open the door to the dingy bar. The few patrons inside turn to stare as you stumble in, a bride in full wedding attire, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

The bartender, a gruff-looking man in his fifties, raises an eyebrow. “Rough day, sweetheart?”

You laugh, the sound bordering on hysterical. “You could say that.”

As you collapse onto a barstool, the weight of the day finally crashes down on you. You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

The bartender slides a glass of amber liquid in front of you. “On the house,” he says gruffly. “Looks like you could use it.”

You lift your head, offering him a watery smile. “Got anything stronger?”

***

The world spins as you stumble out of The Dive Hole, your wedding dress now stained with whiskey and regret. The streetlights blur into a hazy glow as you teeter on your heels, struggling to maintain your balance.

“Hey, watch it!” A passerby shouts as you nearly collide with him.

“Sorry,” you slur, waving a hand dismissively. “Just trying to ... to find my happily ever after. Have you seen it? I think I lost it somewhere.”

The man hurries away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk. You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the empty street. “That’s right, run away! Everyone else does!”

As you take another unsteady step, your heel catches in a crack in the pavement. You lurch forward, bracing for impact with the cold, hard ground. But instead of concrete, you find yourself enveloped in warmth.

“Whoa there!” A gentle voice exclaims. “Are you alright?”

You blink, trying to focus on the face of your savior. Kind green eyes peer down at you, filled with concern. The man helps you regain your footing, his hands steady on your arms.

“I’m fine,” you insist, even as the world continues to tilt around you. “Just ... just celebrating. It’s my wedding day, you know.”

The man’s brow furrows as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Celebrating alone? In the middle of the street?”

You nod vigorously, immediately regretting the action as nausea washes over you. “Yep! Best day ever. Who needs a groom anyway, right?”

“I’m Charles,” he introduces himself, his accent warm and inviting. “And I think maybe you should sit down for a moment. There’s a bench just over there.”

He gently guides you to the nearby bench, helping you settle onto it. You slump against the backrest, your head lolling to the side.

“So, Charles,” you drawl, poking him in the chest. “What brings you out on this fine evening? Looking for love in all the wrong places?”

Charles chuckles softly. “Actually, I was just heading home after a late dinner with friends. And then I found a beautiful bride who seems to be having a rough night.”

You snort, gesturing to your ruined dress. “Beautiful? I look like I’ve been through a war. A war of the heart.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles offers, his voice gentle and free of judgment.

For a moment, you consider spilling everything. But the wound is too fresh, the betrayal too raw. Instead, you shake your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes once more.

“No talking,” you mumble. “Just ... can you sit with me for a bit?”

Charles nods, settling onto the bench beside you. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

You sit in silence for a while, the cool night air slowly clearing your head. Charles remains a steady presence at your side, occasionally glancing at you with concern.

Finally, you break the silence. “I should probably go home. Except ... I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

Charles frowns. “You don’t have anywhere to go?”

You shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Nope. Funny how your whole life can fall apart in a single day, huh?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, seeming to wrestle with a decision. Finally, he speaks. “Look, I know we’ve just met, but ... I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay there for the night, just to sleep it off and figure things out in the morning.”

You blink at him, surprised by the offer. “You’d do that for a stranger?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Well, we’re not exactly strangers now, are we? Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you out here alone.”

You consider his offer. Every logical part of your brain is screaming that this is a bad idea, but something in Charles’ eyes tells you he can be trusted. Plus, you’re not exactly swimming in options at the moment.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Charles.”

He helps you to your feet, steadying you as you sway slightly. “My car’s just around the corner. Think you can make it?”

You nod, determined. “Lead the way, knight in shining armor.”

The ride to Charles’ apartment is mercifully short. You spend most of it with your head against the cool glass of the window, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Charles fills the silence with gentle small talk, his voice soothing in the darkness.

When you arrive, Charles helps you out of the car and into the elevator. As you ascend, the reality of your situation starts to sink in.

“Oh God,” you groan, leaning against the elevator wall. “What am I doing? I don’t even know you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer or something.”

Charles chuckles. “I promise I’m not a serial killer. Just a guy who couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.”

The elevator doors open, and Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment. As he fumbles with his keys, you sway on your feet, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.

“Here we are,” Charles announces, pushing open the door. “Home sweet home.”

You step inside, taking in the stylish but comfortable living room. “Nice place. Very ... un-serial-killer-like.”

Charles laughs. “Thanks, I think. The spare room is just down the hall, but maybe we should get you some water first.”

He guides you to the kitchen, filling a glass with cool water. You accept it gratefully, gulping it down.

“Easy there,” Charles warns. “Small sips or you’ll make yourself sick.”

You nod, slowing down. As you finish the water, a wave of emotion washes over you. The events of the day come crashing back, and before you know it, you’re sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” Charles says softly, moving closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. Charles stiffens for a moment, surprised, before wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup between sobs. “I’m getting your shirt all wet and snotty.”

You feel Charles’ chest rumble with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what washing machines are for.”

He holds you as you cry, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You cling to him, this kind stranger who’s shown you more compassion in one night than your fiancé did in years.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles asks gently.

You shake your head, still pressed against his chest. “Not yet. Maybe... maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he says simply. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You stay like that for a while, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. Charles continues to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

As your breathing evens out, exhaustion begins to overtake you. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright.

Charles seems to sense your fatigue. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He leads you down the hallway to the spare room, supporting most of your weight as you stumble along. The room is simple but cozy, with a plush-looking bed that seems to call your name.

“There should be some spare pajamas in the dresser,” Charles says. “They might be a bit big, but they’ll be more comfortable than that dress.”

You nod sleepily, already fumbling with the zipper of your gown. Charles quickly turns away, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it,” he stammers. “Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it. And I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, your eyes already half-closed. “Thank you, Charles. For everything.”

He smiles softly. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

As the door closes behind him, you manage to slip out of your wedding dress and into a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The bed feels like heaven as you sink into it, your body finally relaxing after the emotional roller coaster of the day.

But as you lie there in the dark, the silence allows your thoughts to creep back in. Memories of James, of the life you thought you’d have, of the future that’s now shattered. Tears begin to fall once more, soaking into the pillow.

Before you know it, you’re padding out to the living room, sniffling quietly. Charles looks up from his spot on the couch, concern etched on his face.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Every time I close my eyes, I see ... I just ... I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Without a word, Charles opens his arms. You practically collapse onto the couch next to him, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

You nod against his chest, fresh tears soaking into his shirt. Charles doesn’t seem to mind, just holds you tighter and begins to hum softly, a soothing melody that washes over you.

As you lie there, surrounded by the warmth and kindness of this virtual stranger, you feel something you haven’t felt all day: safe. The steady rhythm of Charles’ heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of calm.

Your eyelids grow heavy once more, and this time, you don’t fight it. As you drift off to sleep, still wrapped in Charles’ arms and using his shirt as a makeshift tissue, your last coherent thought is a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the unfamiliar curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. For a blissful moment, you’re disoriented, unaware of where you are or why your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of yesterday crash over you, bringing with them a fresh wave of pain and embarrassment.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. How did you end up here? Slowly, fragments of the night before come back to you — a kind stranger, an offer of shelter, crying yourself to sleep on the stranger’s couch.

Charles.

His name was Charles.

The smell of coffee and something deliciously savory wafts through the air, making your stomach growl despite the lingering nausea. Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed, wincing at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is a tangled mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, and you’re wearing clothes that are decidedly not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself to face your host. You pad quietly down the hallway, following the sounds of movement in the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see Charles standing at the stove, his back to you as he hums softly to himself.

You clear your throat softly. “Um, good morning.”

Charles turns, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”

You grimace, running a hand through your tangled hair. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Emotionally and physically.”

He chuckles sympathetically. “I bet. Here, sit down. Coffee?”

You nod gratefully, sinking into a chair at the small kitchen table. “Yes, please. And maybe some painkillers if you have them?”

“Coming right up,” Charles says, placing a steaming mug in front of you before rummaging in a drawer for the pills.

As you sip the coffee, relishing the warmth spreading through your body, Charles returns to the stove. “I hope you like omelets. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, but I figured eggs are usually a safe bet.”

“Omelets sound perfect,” you say, your stomach rumbling in agreement. “Thank you. For everything. I ... I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

He waves off your thanks, sliding a plate in front of you. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad I could help.”

As Charles settles into the chair across from you with his own plate, a comfortable silence falls between you. You pick at your food, your appetite warring with the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

Finally, Charles breaks the silence. “So ... seems like yesterday is quite a story.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “A very long one.”

Charles’ green eyes meet yours, filled with gentle curiosity. “Care to share?”

You hesitate, pushing your food around your plate. Part of you wants to keep it all locked away, to pretend yesterday never happened. But another part of you is desperate to unburden yourself, to make sense of the whirlwind that turned your life upside down.

Taking a deep breath, you begin. “Well, yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day.”

Charles nods encouragingly. “I gathered as much from the dress. What happened?”

“I found out my fiancé — ex-fiancé now, I guess — has been cheating on me. Throughout our entire engagement.”

Charles winces. “Ouch. That’s ... I’m so sorry.”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even as tears prick at your eyes. “Yeah, well. Apparently I’m great at picking them.”

“How did you find out?” Charles asks gently.

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, it was a real soap opera moment. His mother overheard him on the phone with the other woman, literally an hour before the ceremony. She told my mom, who told me, and ... well, you can imagine how that went down.”

Charles shakes his head, disbelief etched on his face. “That’s awful. What did you do?”

“I confronted him, of course. In front of all his groomsmen. It was ... not my finest moment. There was a lot of yelling, some crying, probably some mascara running. And then I just ... ran. In my wedding dress. Like some cliché runaway bride, except I had nowhere to run to.”

You pause, taking a sip of coffee to steady yourself. Charles remains silent, his face a mix of sympathy and something else — anger, maybe?

“I ended up in some bar I’d never been to before,” you continue. “Drank way too much, way too fast. And then I was stumbling around on the street, and ... well, you know the rest.”

Charles nods slowly, processing your story. “Wow. That’s ... that’s a hell of a day.”

You snort. “You can say that again.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Charles says, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand gently. “No one deserves that kind of betrayal.”

His touch is warm and comforting, and you find yourself fighting back tears again. “Thanks. I just ... I feel so stupid. How did I not see it? We were together for five years. We were supposed to spend our lives together. And all this time ...”

“Hey,” Charles interrupts softly. “You’re not stupid. He’s the one who made the choice to betray your trust. That’s on him, not you.”

You nod, not entirely convinced but appreciating his words nonetheless. “I guess. It’s just ... where do I go from here? We had a whole life planned out. A home, careers, maybe kids someday. And now it’s all just ... gone.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe this is an opportunity.”

You look at him skeptically. “An opportunity? To what, have my heart ripped out and stomped on?”

He chuckles softly. “No, no. I mean ... look, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ve been given a chance to rewrite your story. To figure out what you really want, without having to consider someone else’s dreams or expectations.”

His words give you pause. You’d been so focused on what you’d lost, you hadn’t even considered what you might gain. “I ... I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to see it as a positive yet,” Charles assures you. “Healing takes time. But I promise you, this isn’t the end of your story. It’s just the beginning of a new chapter.”

You manage a small smile, the first genuine one since yesterday morning. “Where did you learn to be so wise, huh?”

Charles grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, you know. I moonlight as a philosopher when I’m not rescuing damsels in distress from the streets.”

You laugh, surprised by how good it feels. “My hero,” you tease.

As your laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. You find yourself studying Charles, really looking at him for the first time. He’s handsome, in a boyish sort of way, with kind eyes and an easy smile. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t quite place it.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I’ve shared my tragic backstory. What about you? What’s your deal, Charles?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, you know. Just your average guy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Average guys don’t usually invite strange women in wedding dresses to stay the night. Unless ... oh God, you’re not married, are you? Did I just cause some poor woman to think her husband was cheating?”

Charles laughs, holding up his hands. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m very much single. And I promise, inviting strange women in wedding dresses to stay over is not a regular occurrence for me.”

“So what do you do, then? When you’re not playing knight in shining armor?”

A flicker of something crosses Charles’ face before he answers. “I’m ... in sports. Racing, actually.”

You nod, impressed. “Racing? Like, cars?”

“Formula 1,” he clarifies. “I’m a driver.”

Suddenly, it clicks. The familiarity, the nagging feeling that you’ve seen him before. Your eyes widen. “Oh my God. You’re Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver.”

He grins sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”

You bury your face in your hands, mortified. “Oh God. Oh God. I cried all over a world-famous race car driver. I used your shirt as a tissue. This is ... this is so embarrassing.”

Charles reaches across the table, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Hey, none of that. I’m just a person, like anyone else. And I meant what I said — I’m glad I could help.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “You’re sure? Because I’m pretty sure I got mascara and snot all over your probably very expensive shirt.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “I promise, it’s fine. The shirt will survive. I’m more concerned about you. How are you feeling now?”

You consider the question, taking stock of your emotional state. “Honestly? Still pretty awful. But ... maybe a little less awful than before. Thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

Charles smiles softly. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time. And hey, look at it this way — you’ve got a pretty unique story to tell now.”

You groan, but can’t help laughing. “Oh yeah, because drunk and crying in a wedding dress is exactly how I wanted to meet one of the best F1 drivers in the world.”

“One of the best?” Charles teases, clutching his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m clearly the best.”

You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such greatness.”

As you banter back and forth, you feel something shift inside you. The pain is still there, raw and aching, but it’s no longer all-consuming. For the first time since yesterday, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay after all.

***

The roar of engines fills the air as you make your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement of race day palpable. You can’t help but smile, still amazed at how much your life has changed in the past few years. From runaway bride to Formula 1 WAG — it’s a plot twist you never saw coming.

“Mon cœur!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Charles jogging towards you, his race suit tied around his waist. He grins as he reaches you, pulling you into a quick embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve got time. Besides, I needed my good luck charm.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Flatterer. Go on, get back to work. I’ll be cheering you on from the garage.”

He steals one more kiss before heading back towards his team, leaving you shaking your head with a smile. As you turn to make your way to the Ferrari motorhome, a familiar face in the crowd stops you dead in your tracks.

Your ex-fiancé is standing just a few feet away, gawking at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you’re frozen, unsure how to react. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, since that disastrous almost-wedding day.

Before you can decide whether to acknowledge him or pretend you haven’t seen him, James is moving towards you, a strange mix of emotions playing across his face.

“Y/N?” He says, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that really you?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Hello, James.”

He looks you up and down, taking in your sleek outfit and the VIP pass hanging around your neck. “Wow. You look ... different. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with my partner,” you say simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.

James’ brow furrows. “Your partner? You mean like ... a business partner?”

You can’t help but laugh. “No, James. My partner. As in, the person I’m in a relationship with.”

His eyes widen comically. “You’re dating someone involved in Formula 1? Who?”

Before you can answer, a small group of fans approaches, their eyes lighting up as they spot you.

“Excuse me,” one of them says excitedly. “You’re Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, right? Could we please get a picture?”

You smile warmly at them. “Of course!”

As you pose for photos with the fans, exchanging a few friendship bracelets as well, you can see James out of the corner of your eye. He’s standing there, mouth agape, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a frying pan.

Once the fans move on, James practically pounces on you. “Charles Leclerc? You’re dating Charles Leclerc? How ... when ... what?”

You sigh, already tired of this conversation. “Yes, Charles and I have been together for a while now. Is there something else you needed?”

He shakes his head, still looking dazed. “I just ... I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” you say, not particularly wanting to rehash your past with him. “One I don’t really have time to get into right now.”

James seems to ignore your hint, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t expect me to believe that you’re actually dating one of the best F1 drivers in the world. What’s really going on here?”

You feel a flash of anger at his dismissive tone. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, no offense,” James continues, oblivious to your growing irritation, “but last I knew, you couldn’t tell the difference between F1 and NASCAR. Now you’re supposedly dating a Ferrari driver? It doesn’t add up.”

You clench your fists, trying to keep your cool. “People change. They grow. They learn new things. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He scoffs. “Right. So I’m supposed to believe that in the few years since our ... since we last saw each other, you’ve not only become an F1 expert but also managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in the sport? Come on, Y/N. What’s the real story? Are you some kind of ... I don’t know, brand ambassador or something?”

Before you can respond, a warm hand settles on the small of your back. You look up to see Charles standing beside you, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“Everything okay here, mon amour?” He asks, his eyes flicking between you and James.

James’ jaw drops even further, if that’s possible. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

You lean into Charles’ side, drawing strength from his presence. “Charles, this is James. My ex-fiancé. James, this is Charles. My boyfriend.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up in recognition, but he recovers quickly, extending a hand to James. “Nice to meet you,” he says politely, though there’s a hint of steel in his voice.

James just stares at the offered hand, then back at you, then at Charles again. “This ... this is a joke, right? Some kind of prank?”

Charles drops his hand, frowning. “I assure you, it’s not a joke. Y/N and I have been together for over two years now.”

James shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. This doesn’t make any sense. Y/N, what are you playing at?”

You feel your patience snap. “I’m not playing at anything. Charles and I are together. We’re happy. I’m sorry if that’s difficult for you to comprehend, but it’s the truth.”

“But ... but how?” James sputters. “How did this even happen?”

Charles tightens his arm around you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Well, if you must know, I found her wandering the streets in a wedding dress, crying her eyes out because her fiancé was a cheating bastard.”

James blanches, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. “That’s ... that’s not ... you can’t just ...”

“Can’t what?” You challenge, feeling emboldened by Charles’ support. “Can’t move on? Can’t find happiness with someone who actually respects me? Can’t build a life that doesn’t revolve around you?”

A small crowd has started to gather, attracted by the rising voices and the presence of Charles Leclerc. You can see people whispering, phones discreetly pointed in your direction.

James seems to notice the attention too, his eyes darting around nervously. “Look, Y/N, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”

“It’s not a game,” you interrupt, your voice firm. “This is my life. A life I’m very happy with, I might add. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Charles has a race to prepare for.”

You start to turn away, but James grabs your arm. “Wait, just ... just tell me the truth. Is this some kind of revenge? Did you set this all up to get back at me?”

Charles tenses beside you, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I suggest you remove your hand,” he says, his voice low and controlled.

James lets go as if burned, taking a step back. “I just ... I don’t understand. How could you … with him?”

You take a deep breath, deciding to end this once and for all. “James, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once. What happened between us was years ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve built a life I love, with a man I love. Your inability to believe that says far more about you than it does about me.”

You turn to Charles, softening your voice. “Come on, love. You need to get back to the team.”

Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple before addressing James one last time. “It was ... interesting meeting you. Enjoy the race.”

As you walk away, leaving a stunned James in your wake, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well, that was ... something.”

Charles chuckles, squeezing your hand. “You handled that beautifully, mon cœur. Though I have to admit, I was tempted to deck him when he grabbed you.”

You lean into him, smiling. “My hero. But I think leaving him standing there like a fish out of water was far more satisfying.”

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you pause, turning to face Charles. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For being there, for backing me up. For ... everything, really.”

Charles cups your face gently, his green eyes full of love. “Always. You know I’ve got your back, just like you’ve always had mine.”

You stretch up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, you know that?”

He grins, that boyish smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. “I love you too. Now, how about we go win a race, yeah?”

As you enter the garage hand in hand, the organized chaos of the team preparing for the race enveloping you, you can’t help but marvel at the twists and turns that led you here. From the lowest point of your life to the highest — all because a kind stranger couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.

You squeeze Charles’ hand one more time before he heads off to his car. As you watch him go, you silently thank whatever twist of fate brought him into your life that night. The road hasn’t always been smooth, but you wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

After all, sometimes the best love stories start with a broken heart and end with a chequered flag.

[nottsangel]

Bsf theo bullying you into cockwarming before bed. 🫠

bsf!theo is too much of a sweetheart in my eyes so i changed it to brothers bsf!theo if that’s ok <3 n i hope the italian in this makes sense lmao sorry if it doesn’t !!!

“hey, where’s the—” theo begins as he suddenly bursts into your room, but his words quickly trail off and his eyes widen, a smirk tinged with disbelief spreading across his face. you squeal in shock, instantly jerking your hand away from between your legs and hastily pulling your skirt down, covering your dripping, exposed cunt. meanwhile, pornographic sounds echo through the room from the speakers of your phone, which you clumsily dropped in panic.

“what the fuck is your problem?! you fucking asshole! leave!” you yell with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw, your cheeks on fire as you can feel your heart pounding in your throat. you try to reach for your phone that has dropped to the ground, stretching your arm as far as you can, but theo quickly seizes it right before your eyes. “theo! i swear to fucking—” “dio santo, what the fuck are you watching? fuckin’ disgusting.” theo snarls in disgust, chuckling condescendingly as his eyes are glued to the screen, the loud, pornographic sounds making your cheeks heat up even more.

“theo…. GIVE IT TO ME NOW!” you scream at the top of your lungs as you try to reach for your phone, but he jerks it away right before you can snatch it out of his hand and holds it above his head, staring down at you with an amused, mocking look on his face. you jump up, huffing as you stretch your arms as far as you can, but to no avail. “you better be quiet before your brother hears. you don’t want him to find out that his sweet little sister watches this kind of porn when she’s all alone, huh?”

your breathing quickens out of sheer anger, as if steam could practically come out of your ears while you glare at him with furrowed brows. “i mean, if it was just ‘normal porn’, fair enough. but this… nah, that’s just… fucking embarrassing, porco giuda.” he taunts, nodding disapprovingly as he stares at your screen with a mocking expression of shock on his face. “give. it. back.” “oh, don’t worry. i will give it back to you, piccola.” you let out a sigh of relief, the tense muscles in your body gradually relaxing as you start sit down, but then he speaks again. “but only if you watch more of those videos with me.” “what the f—” “while you sit on my cock.”

you scoff in disbelief, blinking rapidly as you stare at him, thinking he must be joking, yet the same serious, intense expression doesn’t falter from his face, making you realise he’s dead serious. “wha— why the fuck would i want that?” “hm. ‘cause you’re fuckin’ dripping, idiota.” he smugly gestures with his eyes towards your arousal trickling down the insides of your thighs. you look down at where here’s staring and quickly press your legs together, a mix of embarrassment and fury raging through your entire body. “you’re a bit slow sometimes, you know that?”

you’re ready to yell at him again, to call him all the horrible names you can think of, but you don’t— instead, you grab him by his shirt and frustratingly push him onto your bed, causing him to gaze up at you with the cockiest, most arrogant smirk ever, clearly just at surprised by your unexpected behaviour as you are. “don’t think i’m doing this because i want you, alright? it’s just— you just happen to have a dick!” “yeah, yeah. you hate me, i get it. c’mere before i change my mind and tell your brother.”

he grasps your wrist and forcefully pulls you onto his lap, biting his lip as his firm hands wander towards your ass under your skirt, squeezing it roughly. your hands hastily reach down to his crotch, eagerly unbuckling his belt while he shifts his attention to your phone and scrolls through the endless videos, trying to pick the perfect one. “and you know what? maybe i’ll let you move if you’re able to sit still enough while watching them with me.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[yolelejiju]

Since Mom left…..

Toji’s unable to cope with your Mothers passing so he finds comfort between his step daughter’s legs.

TW: Stepcest, noncon, addiction mention

CW: facials, groping, somno, thighjob, choking/gagging

- If you don’t like then don’t read

Toji was a good man and he loved your mother with all of his heart. So when she was taken from him, the loss affected him harder than anyone else. He struggled constantly to cope without turning to some new destructive habit. He’d be gone from home for days at a time, spend all the money on gambling, and at times you’d even find stains of blood on his clothes when you would do laundry.

Your mother loved him, he’s not your real dad but he’s all you know and now all you have. Megumi left the house and his eldest girl tsumiki has yet to wake from her coma.

Nights he went to the bar were nights he made you most uncomfortable.

You remember the first night he touched you..he reeked of cheap sake. He called you by your mother's name

Before you felt his hands wrap around your waist from behind and felt the firm press of his groin to your behind. He traced kisses up your neck saying how plump your ass is and how much better it was compared to your moms

You were frozen in place but you fought through the fear and murmured “Daddy…daddy pleases stop you’re making me uncomfortable”

And just like that it seemed he came to his senses. He removed his hands from you and stepped back silently.

“Goodnight” is all he said before he scurried off somewhere that night.

You try to recall how you got to the point you’re at now with your step-father.

He started off small, walking around the house in sweatpants, his dickprint very much visible and very much erect.

You tried your best to ignore it not making the situation awkward but with how big he was it was impossible to not notice.

Next, there were the days he made dinner.

His meals were always heavy with lots of meat and carbs they always made you so sleepy. You even fell asleep at the table once but when you woke up you found yourself in his bed with his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his large chest pressed against your back, feeling it rise and lower slowly with each breath he takes. He sounds like he’s snoring but you don’t feel confident he’s sleeping. You do feel something pocking you. You feel something hard and warm poking between your thighs slightly teasing your core.

Eventually, you’d wake up from a tight grip squeezing together your thighs and to the feeling of him thrusting his cock between your legs. Your panties stick to your soaked folds as the head of his cock grazes between your pussy lips over and over again. you fight to steady your breathing so he doesn’t know you’re awake but it’s hard as you start to feel something build and tighten in your stomach.

His hips speed up and his thrust becomes sloppy, the tip occasionally pushing your panties deeper between your folds and teasing your neglected hole. Before the knot in your stomach can come undone you’ll feel a sharp thrust but this time his cock wouldn’t go between your legs but get caught between your pussy lips as his deep thrust shoves part of your panties and his tip into your hole as you feel his member pulsate and shoot spurts of warm thick fluids almost inside you. Only for him to pull your shorts back up and roll over as though nothing happened. Able to fall back asleep quickly after soiling your panties and getting his fix.

Unbeknownst to you this wasn’t the first or only time he had his ways with you in your sleep. The first time was during the summer, when you snuck out and went drinking when your friends. By the time you got home, you were out cold, drool staining your pillow, and low snores echoing from your room.

That evening he found you lying on your stomach, with your head turned to the side while you were fast asleep on your pillow.

He called your name a few times and you didn’t move at all. He grabbed your shoulder and shook you and you were still out cold.

He stared at your resting face and your plump lips. So many vile thoughts filled his mind. That night he decided to play with your lips. First by touching them with his fingers then by shoving two fingers into your mouth. As he did this you instinctively sucked on his digits. Feeling your lips wrap around his finger made him painfully hard and he knew what he had to do to help himself.

Using his hand that was previously groping his hard-on through his pants, he pulled his cock out and then slid his fingers out your mouth. He pressed his tip to your lips, letting you give it a light kiss before he moved forward to push himself in. He moved in shallow thrust fucking his dick deeper into you until he felt himself hit the back of your throat. With his cock only halfway in he couldn’t stop there but the excitement he got from seeing how deep he was made a good amount of precum gush out. Your sleeping body, unaware of its predicament tried to fight the intrusion. It sucked air into your lungs unaware that it was making things worse for itself.

Despite seeing your struggling body something came over him. When you started choking on his member he couldn’t hold back anymore. He fucked himself into your throat with no worries of waking you up. You wouldn’t be able to escape his grip while he abused your soft warm mouth. Your head would rock every time he thrust forward and hit the back of your throat, with your brows furrowed and your nose scrunching from the pain and discomfort. growing impatient the greedy man gripped your face and held your head still as he started rapidly fucking up into hit. Sounds of gagging could be heard by anyone awake at the house. Maybe even the neighbors in the apartment next door. He felt his orgasm shoot through him and came down your throat. And of course, like a good girl, your unconscious form instinctively swallowed as much of his load as it could handle. He pulled out and some more cum gushed from his tip and dripped down your cheek mixing himself with the earlier drool that had escaped your mouth.

Somewhere in him, he knew what he was doing was wrong but each day it was getting harder and harder to care. His desire to have all of you only grew more by the day.

————————————————————————————-

Let me know if you have ideas for what to add for the next chapter.

[mrsbarnesblog]

bathroom break

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

summary: when at the party you hear some girls talking about your boyfriend, you decide to show them who he belongs to

word count: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, semi-public sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, marking

“Get up.” The laughter around the guys’ circle died as you stepped into their space, only interested in your boyfriend’s attention. 

“What?” Rafe looked up at your pouty face, arching a brow. “You wanna go home, baby?” His arm wrapped around the back of your thighs, bringing you closer to him. 

“No. I just need to do something. It won’t take too long.” Everyone in the group looked at each other with knowing smirks and Rafe’s face lit up. You didn’t even bat an eye at the murmurs and snickers from his friends—you simply didn’t care if they knew. Rafe allowed you to take his hand in yours and tug you in some random direction through the random people that flooded the house. 

“Now what are you doing, baby, hm?” He asked as soon as the door of the bathroom behind you closed and you quickly locked it. 

“These bitches were talking about fucking you right in front of me; can you imagine? Especially the one who gave me dirty looks the whole time, 'cause she knows that we're together. I asked them to shut the fuck up but they didn’t listen, so I guess I have to mark my territory.” You shamelessly grabbed the buckle of Rafe’s belt, dragging him closer to you. You jumped up on the sink, allowing him to stand in between your legs as you quickly undone his jeans. 

“Mark your territory? Am I your territory now?” He teased, placing his own hands on your thighs, squeezing the plush skin and allowing you to do what you needed to. Watching your angry and pissed-off expression with a sly smirk, Rafe tugged on your skirt until it fully exposed the dump material of your panties.

“Yeah, you are, Cameron. Your heart, your body and your dick are mine, you got it? Just fuck me and make them bitches jealous.” 

“You sound so hot, for fuck’s sake.” 

You finally handled his clothes, pushing both layers down his legs and allowing his already hard cock spring free. Your hand wrapped around the base, giving it a few pups, and the other slid under the t-shirt, scratching his toned abs.

“Baby��” Rafe groaned, his head fell forward, nestling in the crook of your neck and his grip on your legs became tighter. His hips started pushing forward, looking for more. “Need to be inside or I’m gonna cum all over your hand.”

Burying your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, you yanked his head away from you until you were able to connect your lips. Rafe quickly pulled himself together, as usual, dominating over you. The kiss was pure lust, with your tongues dancing around each other in a desperate attempt to get more.  

Your legs wrapped around Rafe’s hips, pushing him closer to your body. The only barrier that separated his cock from your greedy cunt were your painties. Rafe rubbed his big finger over the wet material, moaning in your mouth at the feeling. Then, he simply pushed the fabric to the side before putting his leaking tip at your entrance and sliding in. 

“Fuck me, Rafe.” You moaned. Your eyes rolled back with your mouth hanging open at the feeling of him bottoming out deep inside of you. Even with your slightly blurry gaze, you saw your tinted lipgloss smudged all over Rafe’s face, which he didn’t seem to care to wipe. 

As his cock started sliding in and out of your pussy, making your ass slide on the slick counter, you gripped the back of his neck to bring his body closer and put your lips on his skin. 

When you said that you wanted to mark him, you meant it quite literally. 

Biting and sucking on the tender skin of Rafe’s neck while he was basically splitting you in half made you even hornier. He slightly tilted his head to the side so you could have better access to him, and he held your legs in place around his body while brutally fucking you into the counter. 

The sound of slapping and both of your moans echoed in the small room. It smelled like sex, you felt a wet mess under your ass, but it was the least of your concerns. 

You pulled away, admiring your work. Dark red hickeys covered the side of Rafe’s neck, but the look in his eyes was what truly made you go dumb. His lustful eyes were focused on your plump and wet lips. He mirrored the way your mouth was slightly opened, breathing heavily and not even trying to cover the groans. 

“You like it? You like it when everyone knows that I’m fuckin’ you here? I bet they can hear it too.” He rasped, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling your face closer. Your pussy spasmed around his thick cock, making it harder for him to push in. 

“Mh– Rafe!” You squeaked, not even knowing what you wanted to actually say. Your brain was not working at that moment. It was just Rafe, Rafe, Rafe and the overwhelming feeling of him everywhere. 

“You shouldn’t be jealous of other girls talking about fucking me, because the only girl my dick is happy to see is you.” To prove his point, he pushed even harder into you, his pelvis meeting your clit with every movement, making your lips part in a silent moan. “But I ain’t complaining if I have to prove it to you by fucking you dumb, baby.”

“Don’t stop, j-just don’t stop.” As your orgasm began to crush over you, you trembled, gripping his shoulders and digging your nails into the material of his shirt.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squeeze your pussy like that and I’m gonna mark you too.” With a hand around your throat and the tip of Rafe’s cock hitting your cervix, you cried out loud as your orgasm washed over you. Rafe’s thrusts, now more limited by your legs tightly locked around his waist, started getting more sloppy until you felt a sudden wave of warmth flooding you. He held himself deep, making sure to give you everything that he had, as his abdominal muscles flexed. You both moaned at the feeling of him cumming inside, looking down to the place where you two were connected to see his cock still slowly pushing into you, now glistering with your mixed cum. 

“We should do this more.” Rafe’s head fell on your shoulder and he breathed in your scent. “I mean, more of you getting jealous and trying to claim me, y’know?” He kissed your jaw, then moved away and pulled out of you. The smirk on his face when he saw his seed leaking out of your pussy made you clench around nothing and whine at the empty feeling. “If I have to walk with your hickeys, then you’ll get your cute panties full of my cum, got it?” He moved your underwear back to it’s place and dragged you to the floor. 

“Oh– Wow.” You laughed, looking up at your boyfriend and gripping his forearm when your legs didn’t seem to work properly. It felt all jelly and numb, but Rafe just smirked again, leaning closer to you and kissing you deeply. 

Ten more minutes later, which you mostly spent on making out and debating to fuck again, you went back to Rafe’s friends’ circle, and the loud whistles were the first thing that you heard. The dark hickeys, your swollen lips and your not-so-neatly-looking dress were speaking for themselves, not to mention the cockiest look on Rafe’s face.

He sat back at his previous place, but instead of letting you join your girlfriends, he pulled your hand until you were sitting sideways on his lap. He now looked unbothered by all of the looks by other people, as his hands found their place on your hips and his attention was solemnly focused on your happy and glowing face. No one dared to say a word to you or actually comment on you sneaking out for a quickie, already learning the hard way that Rafe wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone in the face for it. 

You pecked Rafe’s lips, resting your head on his shoulder and enjoying the warmth of his big body. Then the girl who talked about Rafe all night caught your attention. The look of annoyance and anger on her face as she started complaining about something to her friends made you actually feel proud of yourself. When you, smirking, mouthed “mine” back to her, she puffed her lips, turning away and not looking in your direction for the rest of the night. 

[mattsfavoritestar]

NEVER BE LIKE YOU, chris sturniolo

synopsis… (based on this ask ) or in which you used to treat chris terribly in highschool, now you’ve graduated and matured but you weren’t the only one who’s changed

warnings… mentions of bullying, rough sex, semi-public sex, degrading, edging, overstimulation, mean!chris, former bully!reader, creampie, perv!chris if you squint, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT)

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

you used to tell yourself that you would never go for matt and nick’s little brother. yes, you know that they are triplets but chris always seem’d so childish and annoying in your eyes. he used to trail after you like a pet and make stupid flirty comments or compliments.

you thought that chris sturniolo was thee most aggravating person to walk the planet. yet here you were staring at him from across the room. you nudged your friend, “hey when did chris get so cute?” you whispered. your friend shot you a deadpanned expression then rolled her eyes. “after graduation, guess he decided to do the whole glow up thing” she responds.

chris used to be the scrawny kid with messy short hair. now his curls framed his face in a godly way and whenever he moved a certain way, his muscles and veins flexed. you also noticed that when you walked into the house, he didn’t even acknowledge you like he used to.

“why do you care?”

“hm?”

“i said why do you care anyways, didn’t you used to hate him or some shit?”

you shrugged your shoulders. no secret that you used to practically torture the poor boy as if he was some servant or lapdog. chris used to do literally anything if it ment you would reward him even if the gift was as small as allowing him to hold your hand for five seconds. it was laughable at the time the way he acting like a wounded puppy whenever you got mad at him for the slightest thing.

your heart started racing when he looked up and stared dead into your eyes. those blue eyes that you used to not care for now made your body feel heated and achy. you broke contact as you felt your thighs squeeze for some type of relief. “m’gonna go to the bathroom” you mumbled to your friend as you got up.

you looked over yourself in the mirror. you always took pride into your appearance, a habit that stuck since high school. you turned around and opened the door but was shocked when met with chris looking down on his phone.

“uhm, hey” you quietly say causing him to look up at you. a small smirk appeared on his face as he turned his phone off and leans onto the door frame. “hi” he replied. you tried going past him but was pushed back into the bathroom. chris closes the door behind him with the lock without breaking eye contact.

“what are you doing” you say cautiously ask as you look between him and the door. chris shrugs, “just thought i’d talk to you for a sec” he says. as chris walks closer to you, you walk backwards till your back brushes the sink. chris traps you with his hands on either side of you as he looks down with a mischievous smile.

“never thought i’d see that day where little miss royalty would get so nervous around me” he laughs. your breath started to pick up as he leans down closer and closer till your lips brush. you squealed in surprise when chris roughly turns you around so you were leaning on the sink with your back facing him.

you felt him breathing down your neck as his hands lightly trailed down your sides. you let out a sigh and let your head drop back onto his shoulder while your eyes closed. chris starts chuckling then removes his hands. “remember when you used to make me do your homework just so i could sit next to you?” he asks.

you opened you eyes and look at him with a sad expression. “m’sorry for treating you like that back then” you say in a small voice. chris roughly grabs your waist and pushes you off him. you gasped as you felt him bring your hips to meet his growing bulge. “i saw you staring at me earlier” he says, “didn’t know you let yourself go enough to want to fuck a loser” he sneered. you frowned to yourself at the memory.

“be serious for a second chris. i’d never fuck a loser like you” you laughed.

you couldn’t lie, you were a regina george back then. chris was such a sweet guy to you too, he always treated you like a princess even though you already had the royal status at school. you were his number one priority and you took advantage of that. you used him back then. now it was his turn to use you.

you bit your lip to hide the moan as chris grinded your lower half’s together. “chris everyone’s out there” you reminded him. chris laughs, “don’t be loud then. unless you want them to hear you act like a whore” he taunts. your dress was pushed up and your laced underwear was yanked down.

“who knew your clothes could get even more slutty after high school” chris grumbled. you always wore clothes that would be at the brink of the dress code. now that those bullshit rules can’t effect you, you wore even more revealing stuff whenever you didn’t have any important place to go to.

your breath hitched as you felt his thumb swipe the arousal from your folds. you looked up to the mirror infront of you as you saw chris suck his thumb off with a groan erupting from his throat. “waiting so long to taste you” he whispered. he brought his hand back down and inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt as he bit his lip.

you moaned as you locked eyes with him in the mirror then brought your hand up to cover your mouth. chris smiled as he worked his fingers in a rapid pace, not caring for how hard it was for you to keep your voice as low as possible. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

but chris saw your pleasured expression. he yanked his fingers out of you and slapped your ass. you whined at the lost feeling then whimpered as you felt chris get a tight hold on your hair, yanking your head back. “you don’t deserve to fucking cum” he grunted in your ear.

chris pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock. a sigh of relief fell from his lips as he stroked himself slightly. he lined himself up to your wet hole then pushed in with slight aggression. a muffled moan left your mouth as you tightened the hand that covered it .

you heard chris breathing heavily and felt his fingers dig into your skin. he moved his hips slightly as if he was testing the waters meanwhile you were using his delay as time to try adjusting to his size. chris was definitely bigger than any other guy you fucked and you were starting to regret not taking his offer for a date two years ago.

as soon as chris decided that he was ready, he rocked his hips slowly then picked up the pace. his thrust were aggressive. harsh. needy. as if he wanted to fuck his anger into you. but also can’t get enough of you. you had one hand trying to balance yourself on the sink counter while the other still covered the moans and whimpers that fell from your lips.

“waiting so fucking long to stretch this pussy” he groans. somehow the aggression grew more rough and since chris was already a bit too big, it felt like he was abusing your cunt. you took your hand off your mouth then reached back to try to push him away. chris laughs as he roughly pins your hand onto the counter.

“are you trying to run from me? thought this is what you wanted” he snarled, “i always give you want you want, don’t i? fucking spoiled brat” his voice was laced with venom. you felt your eyes water but couldn’t tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or regret.

“mhm chris!” you squealed as you felt him brush your cervix. you caught a glimpse of his face, a smile as he bit his lip while watching you through the mirror. “‘member when you called me a whiny bitch? look at you now, crying on my dick” he laughs. you close your eyes as the vivid memory flashed into your brain.

“but you promised” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry you whiny bitch” you mocked.

“m’sorry! m’so sorry!” you cried. your knuckles grew white as your grip on the counter tightened. the familiar knot in your stomach reappeared, this time even tighter than before. “ch-chris! gonna cum!” you warned. his cock didn’t stop ramming into your now puffy cunt. “yeah? gonna make a mess on me?” he muttered.

you nodded repeatedly as you felt your self at the brink of an orgasm. your vision went blurry with white splotches as you felt yourself release on chris’s cock. “t-to much..” you tried saying in shaken voice. you couldn’t even breathe properly, it felt like he was rearranging your guts. the overstimulation was overwhelming but fuck it felt so good.

it finally dawned on you that this wasn’t for your pleasure but his. chris was actively using you as a sleeve to wet his dick and to get back at you for all those years. you felt him pull you closer as if he was hugging you from the back. you felt his sweaty forehead touching the back of your neck.

“finally get to fill you up- fuck” he moaned as you found yourself coming to your second orgasm. with the rest of your strength, you slammed your hand onto the counter as you felt yourself somewhat peeing on him. you heard chris whimpering as he tightened his hold on you and tried pulling you closer.

a series of curses left his mouth as his load pumped into you with sloppy thrust. you couldn’t help letting out a loud moan as chris gives you one final harsh thrust before pulling out. you felt your knees buckle after chris removes himself from you. you watched through your wet lashes as he fixes his clothes and pockets your underwear.

as chris exits the bathroom, you tried lifting yourself up with the help of the counter. you felt the thick sticky mixture of your fluids and his load dripping out of you. through the crack of the door you heard matt telling chris that everyone else left to get food then asked why you both took so long to which chris replied by saying ‘you needed help in the bathroom’.

[lulunothulu]

“Jealousy, jealousy”

Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tyler has tried everything to impress you, yet you're still uninterested...at least he thought you weren't until your jealousy gets the best of you, making you cry.

Content: careless (kinda only bc he’s trying to get your attention) Tyler, jealous!Reader, FLUFF

GIF credit to @austinbutlermischief I’m so sorry I couldn’t remember who I found this from 😭

Tyler had made it his mission to make you laugh and fall for him.

He’d tried everything.

He took you on a chase, fireworks and all. Nothing.

He’d tried falling over in front of you, and while it warranted a smirk…still nothing.

Tyler was up to his wits end and his ideas were dwindling.

“Why are you trying so hard?” Kate, your colleague and best friend asks him one night.

Tyler was sitting on the other side of a busy parking lot, watching as you and Javi laughed at something Boone had just said.

“I just want her to laugh, to smile really, at me.” He tells her. “I really like her and I just…I feel like she hates me.”

Kate only nods, lips tight.

If only Tyler knew.

You were obsessed with him. Obsessed might’ve been a strong word, but the feeling was mutual. You wanted to tell him how you felt but because you thought he had a thing for Kate, you never did anything to reveal your true feelings.

———

From across the parking lot, you half listen to Javi as he goes on about some tornado data from today. The only thing you can focus on is Tyler and Kate, sitting on the other side and talking.

Tyler looks like he’s having a great time talking to Kate, small smile and leaning back in a chair. He crosses his arms behind his head, biceps bulging under the sleeves of his flannel.

You frown, what could they be talking about?

———

“Is she looking?” Tyler asks Kate. They’d planned on making you so jealous, you had to come over and talk to him.

Kate glances around, making it look like she’s looking around the parking lot and stopping on you. Your face was twisted in what she knew was jealousy—but to others was a thinking face.

She turns back to Tyler, a wide smile on her face. “Oooh yeah, big time.”

“What should I do now?” He asks.

“I’m gonna squeeze your bicep and you’re just gonna smile at me. That’ll get her on her feet,” she tells him, knowing exactly where to strike in order to get your full attention.

She knew you’d been a fan of said arms, veiny and muscular. She knew this would work.

Tyler lowered his arms, bending them as he placed them on his knees. He didn't like using your best friend to get to you, but he had to do what he could in order to get you to react.

Reckless? Maybe, but he was willing to do whatever it took.

Kate's smile as she touched his bicep and squeezed made his stomach turn. That should've been you touching him.

He turns his gaze to where you were sitting and to his surprise, you were standing up.

"This is it, Kate," he tells her. "I think she's coming over."

But as soon as you wave goodbye to Boone, rest of the Tornado Wranglers, and Javi, you speed walk toward the stairs that lead to your motel room.

Tyler's heart drops straight into his ass when he sees you wipe at your cheeks. He'd hurt you.

"Fuck," he mutters.

Kate removes her hand from his bicep and turns in the direction of his gaze. She sucks in a breath and begins to stand. "I should go talk to her."

"No," Tyler says, standing and stopping her by grabbing her arm. "I'll go. I need to make it right and just straight up tell her how I feel."

Tyler turns in the direction of the stairs, walking a few feet before turning back to Kate.

"What room-"

"204," she responds with a smirk. "Go get her, lover boy."

Tyler smiles to himself as he jogs to the stairs, taking two at a time and trying to think of what he should say.

"Y/N, I didn't mean to..." He starts as he walks to your room. "I'm sorry I.... No..."

Finally, 204.

Tyler takes a deep breath before knocking on your door. He hears shuffling and sniffling before hearing your sweet voice asks, "Who is it?"

"It's Tyler," he responds. He can feel his heart breaking at how small and defeated your voice sounds, small and slightly gravelly from crying.

It was his fault you were crying. If he could kick his own ass he would.

When you open the door, your eyes are rimmed red, tear stains running down your cheeks. He watches as your eyes harden on him, lips in a tight line.

"What do you want?" you ask harshly.

———

You didn't mean to cry. Must've been Kate touching Tyler and a mix of you about to start your period that did it. Either way, you were crying over a man that obviously had feelings for your best friend.

So when you heard a knock coming from your motel door, you were expecting Kate, Javi, or literally anyone else.

You did not expect Tyler, face stricken in sadness, to be standing there.

"What do you want?" you asked harshly. Maybe a bit too harshly because he too looked like he wanted to cry.

"I just wanted to check if you were doing okay," he tells you, deep and southern voice velvety soft. "I saw you wiping your eyes on your way up here."

You were stunned, heart pounding in your chest. Tyler noticed you leaving?

"You saw that?" you ask.

"I did," he tells you with a nod and small but reassuring smile. "I notice everything about you."

"Hmm," you hum.

"Anyway," he continues. "I just wanted to see that you were alright...so, are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Alright?"

The look on his face was expectant. It's like he wanted you to be fine. Why?

Instead of asking, you nod. "Yeah, just hormonal I guess."

Tyler's ears redden at that before he clears his throat.

"I can get you some stuff. Do you want something?" he asks. "Anything at all."

"Anything?" you ask, brow raised and smirk forming on your lips.

"Name it and it's yours," he responds, his signature cocky grin appearing.

I'd like you. "I could go for some pizza."

Tyler smiles at you and you have to fight not to smile back, even though that’s all you wanna do right now.

"I'll be right back," Tyler says, starting to walk away. He walks back to ask, "Any particular toppings?"

You shake your head, another snack popping into your mind. "Can I also get some Twizzlers?"

Tyler turns to walk backwards and say, "Of course, Darlin'."

You quickly close the door, feeling the blush creep up your neck. Holy shit, he's gonna be the death of me.

———

Tyler was gone no more than ten minutes and you could tell he ran to get you the pizza and Twizzlers.

He was a panting mess by the time he knocked on your door again.

“I got the stuff you requested, Darlin’,” he drawls, attempting to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” you say, a small smirk appearing on your lips.

He stands there, waiting for you to say something else, but instead, you just smile sweetly at him.

Tyler’s mind was racing, you were actually smiling at him.

“Okay well,” you start, still smiling. “Bye.”

Before he could react, you close the door on him. His face confused and almost…heartbroken.

You walk to your bed, opening the box of pizza and sighing at the first bite.

That’s when you see the small note he’d taped inside.

I’m sorry if I made you cry. Forgive me?

You carefully rip the note off and close the box. Padding back to the door, you open it, fully expecting to run after Tyler.

Only…he never left.

There he was, standing at your door, puppy dog eyes trained on you.

“You never left,” you point out.

“I couldn’t leave without telling you something,” he starts.

“Tyler—”

“Y/N, just listen,” he interrupts. “I’ve been trying to get your attention, hell even just a smile, from you for the past few weeks. What you saw out there,” he points to the parking lot. “Was me trying the last thing I thought would grab your attention. I never meant to make you cry.”

Tyler shakes his head, rubbing his chin. “I just wanted you to react. Kate said that that would be the best way to get your attention and I just went along with it. Don’t blame her, if anything blame me. I feel so ter-”

You stop him, pressing your hand on his lips. Stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You didn’t know what you were doing until it was too late.

You kiss his cheek, his scruff prickling your lips.

“Do you want to come inside for some pizza?” You ask. “This really hot pizza man just brought it so it’s still warm.”

Tyler breaks into a smile at you calling him hot.

“Of course.”

Next part

A/N: this was kinda bad BUT I really like this idea so I’m sorry lol 🥹

[frudoo]

I need the 141 as a group of slashers. Their shared wife gets harassed at the store and tells them when she gets home?

Might send more asks for slasher 141 if that's okay

You can ALWAYS send me slasher!141 ideas are you joking?!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment (NOT by the 141), typical mentions of weapons and violence. Fem!Reader.

It’s pouring down freezing rain, the cold seemingly nudging past your skin and settling itself into your bones. Your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, letting out a defeated wail when you miss the lock for the fifth fucking time. Throwing your keys in your purse, you settle for knocking, then calling out that it’s just you. You’d rather not have one of your lovers answering the door with a machete to your throat. They always have had a flair for the dramatic. 

     It’s John who answers the door. Immediately he takes in your shivering figure and his bushy eyebrows furrow with concern. Scanning the vast land of the farm and finding nothing that could be perceived as a threat, he gently takes the purse from your hands. Strong arms hustle you inside and he kicks the door shut, working quickly to get you out of your sopping wet clothes. 

     “Darlin’, what happened? Why’re you cryin’?” John asks softly, hanging your coat on the rack—he can tell it’s bad by the way you flinch just from the question. 

     Simon, Johnny, and Kyle trail into the living room to greet you, but when they see your state, it’s like you can feel the tension in the air, ready to snap like a weathered rubber band. Simon comes to scoop you up, uncaring of the drenched clothes you still have on, and carries you up the stairs. He jerks his head to signal that everyone else should follow him. 

     While Kyle runs you a bath, John finishes undressing you, tossing your clothing into the hamper with a wet plop. You’re still shivering, tears streaming down your chilly cheeks, and it breaks their hearts. John cups your face in his big, warm hands, crystal blue eyes scanning for injuries or any reason you might be so spooked. 

     “You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? What’s happened?” 

     His voice is soothing, and you lean into the comfort of his touch. He always has been the best at calming you down, rich gravel filling your ears until you remember how cherished you are in his eyes. In all of their eyes. 

     “T-there was a man,” you stutter, head whipping around violently with your fist raised when Johnny wraps an arm around your waist to help you into the bath. “No!”

     “Hey, hey, jus’ me, hen,” Johnny’s eyes widen as he throws his hands up in surrender, backing away to avoid getting hit. 

     “I’m sorry,” you weep, covering your face with your trembling hands as Johnny tries again, this time successful in getting you settled into the warm water. 

     “Wha’ did he do?” Simon’s raspy voice sounds from the corner of the room, eerily calm. “Wha’ did tha’ fucker do?” 

     “The man… I-I was at the store to get groceries, but there was- he… he grabbed my ass and my tits and f-followed me out to the car. I drove away really fast so he couldn’t come after me, but… I’m sorry, I didn’t get the groceries.”

     “Oh, sweetheart,” Kyle frowns, gently reaching out to grab a hold of one of your hands. “The fuckin’ groceries are the least of our concerns.”

     You nod noncommittally, sniffling and just barely squeezing Kyle’s hand to let him know you appreciate the gesture. John’s jaw is clenched tight, and you can practically hear the rage brewing in his brain. Such a sweet thing traumatized by some stupid fuck who wanted his hands full of their soft, perfect girl. He wants—needs—to make him pay. John turns on his heel and just about rushes through the door, but your gentle voice stops him in his tracks.

     “John? Please stay,” you beg so, so prettily, pouty lips still swollen from how hard you’d been crying, and John’s far too weak a man to deny you. 

     Hesitantly, the captain trails back inside the bathroom, giving the other three a curt nod. They understand instantly, and Simon is cracking his knuckles so loud you’re almost sure the city can hear it. 

     “Bring the bastard back alive,” John commands, and faster than you can blink, Kyle, Simon, and Johnny are out the door.

     “I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes focused on the ripple of the bathwater when you submerge your hands.

     John shakes his head, tilting your chin up so that you look him in the eye. He leans forward and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, a silent question. When you nod he leans in to kiss you long and slow, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you stop to catch a breath.

     “No need to be sorry, sweet girl. You’ll get a turn on him soon enough.”

[evie-sturns]

mature - Matt sturniolo

summary: where you and your boyfriend matt get into big fight, he knows how to make it up to you, even when you want nothing to do with him.

contains: mature!matt, angst, crying, yelling, fluff, arguing.

————————————🩵————————————

11:56pm

i lay spread across the couch in my pretty white pyjamas, a small bowl of pretzels lay next to me as i watch youtube videos on the tv.

suddenly my peace gets interrupted.

“are you slow? why do you keep making a fucking mess of my house?” matt speaks up, walking into the living room, his eyebrows scrunched.

“what?” i instantly reply quietly,

he walks over to me and lifts up the bowl next to me,

“all of your shit, all over the house, is it that hard for you to pick it up? or do you need me to do that for you aswell.”

his voice isn’t loud, not even mad, but everything that comes out of his mouth is bitchy.

“excuse me? are you forgetting who cleans when you’re filming?” i raise my voice, standing up off the couch to be face to face with him.

he lets out a scoff, “don’t do a good job at it, do you?”

“don’t talk to me like that! you’re starting arguments for no reason!” i glare into matt’s eyes,

“baby, i’m not arguing with you, just try do better for me.” his tone is passive aggressive,

“i’m arguing with you! you can’t speak to me like that!” i yell, pointing my finger in his chest.

“you’re just a bit useless around the house, that’s all.” he says, staring into my eyes.

“no- let me rephrase, you’re just useless in general.” he follows up, my heart thumps against my ribs.

my hand collides with his cheek, slapping him, my eyes instantly widen.

he grabs my wrist, yanking me towards him.

“touch me again see what happens.” he warns, squeezing my wrist in his large hands,

my eyes water,

matt never gets mad at me, he treats me like an actual princess, he’s never made me upset, or cry, never raised his voice at me.

“you’re such an asshole!” i scream at him,

“go! go to the spare room i don’t want to see you!” he shouts back, his voice booming through the room, which is now warm from the heat of the argument.

my heart sinks as he yells,

“go! fuck out of here!”

i pause for a moment, tears blurring my vision, threatening to fall.

i nod, grabbing my phone off the couch and silently walking out of the room.

matt just watches me, his breathing heavy.

tears instantly start flowing, painting my flushed cheeks with warm tears.

i let out a loud strangled sob before reaching the spare bedroom, i walk into the room and slam the door behind me.

“are you crying?” matt calls out, followed by quick footsteps up the hallway.

i flop down onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow as all my emotions pour out of me.

my whole body shakes with each attempt of a breath.

i grab my soft animal on the bed and hold it close to me, clutching it as i cry.

matt opens the door with a small huff, before walking over next to the bed.

he rubs my back soothingly, “cmon, roll over onto your back.” he says softly

i shake my head with a sniffle, my tears dampening the pillow as i sob into it.

“i hate you!” i cry,

“i know, i know you do.” he says, running his fingers across my back,

“you’re so mean.” i sniff, my voice muffled by the pillow.

“i know, i was really mean to you, wasn’t i? and i didn’t mean any of it, just a tiring day.” he sighs,

i nod, matt sits down on the bed beside me and plays with my hair,

“can you look at me please?” he asks, starting to braid my hair at the back.

i slowly lift my face out of the pillow, my eyes puffy and my whole face red.

“there she is, pretty girl.” he smiles, pulling me onto his lap so i straddle him.

i look at his face, the side of it has a small slap mark.

my bottom lips trembles, “i dont know why i slapped you, i’m- im sorry matt.”

he presses a finger to my lips, “shh, sh i deserved it.” he laughs.

“i feel guilty though.” i pout,

“can i tell you a secret?” he asks,

i nod, he whispers into my hair “you didn’t hit me that hard, i promise.”

i feel a small weight get lifted off my chest.

“now take a nice deep breath for me okay?”

i suck in a deep breath,

“good girl, can you give me another one?”

i take in another deep breath, blowing out air through my nose.

he wipes the stray tears away from my face,

“i didn’t mean to make you cry sweetheart, you know i hate seeing you this upset.” he says, looking into my eyes.

“it’s okay.” i sniff,

“i want to see you smile for me,” matt says, i give him a small smile before covering my face.

he pulls my hands away from my face with a small laugh,

“i can’t smile for you when you ask me to, it’s so awkward!” i giggle,

“it’s cute baby.” he grins, scooping me up in his arms and standing up off the bed.

he walks us out of the room, “now lets get you in the bath.”

i squeal as he runs us down the hallway, “you’re gonna drop me!!”

he throws me a couple inches in the air before catching me back in his arms, earning a loud scream from me, followed by loud laughs from him.

he walks into the bathroom, before setting me down on the toilet seat.

he turns on the bath before walking over to me, tugging my tank top off my head,

i feel his cold hands fiddle with the clasp of my bra,

“matt! i can do this myself.” i protest, he shakes his head.

“it’s my pleasure.” he grins, letting my bra fall off of me.

“you’re so stupid.” i laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.

—

@jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos

[auroralwriting]

home

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

spencer gets shot, and you don't know who you need to forgive: him, or yourself.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: no use of y/n, spencer gets shot, season 9, blood and violence, criminal minds type violence, negative self thoughts, angsty but it turns fluffy, spencer's drug addiction is discussed, best friends to lovers

The ringing in your ears overwhelmed you. Shots were firing all around, and you didn't know what to do. You'd never been in a shoot-out before, and you felt panicked.

Spencer was beside you, hidden behind the car door as he fired some shots. You watched as an officer in front of you was shot.

You knew it was the worst idea to go out there, but the man could be alive. Your legs moved before you realized it, and you were attempting to drag the officer's body. Spencer and Alex both yelled for you, running out to grab you. Right as Alex grabbed your arm, Spencer pushed you closer to her, which was very out of character for him.

It was then you heard another bullet rip through skin.

The sound that came from Spencer was one you couldn't quite describe, but could never forget. Immediately, you noticed the blood seeping from his neck of all places.

"Spencer!" Your voice was broken and loud as you yelled, grabbing onto him. Derek made a jump, helping you and Alex move him behind the car again.

"No, no," Alex muttered, putting pressure on Spencer's neck. "Look at me, okay? Don't close your eyes,"

You sat behind her, shaking your head as tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "Oh my god, oh my god," You repeated, shock flooding your system.

"Ethan, look at me! Ethan!"

For a moment, you didn't realize who Blake was talking to, until you saw Spencer's shut eyes. "Spencer, Spencer wake up." You crawled over, shaking his shoulder. "Please, I need you, I need you with me forever. You're my best-- Alex, why is there so much blood?"

You helped Alex stop the bleeding, but it was so much. After what felt like years, the paramedics arrived. You and Alex fought to ride with him, and somehow, they let both of you. The woman held you to her side as she urged you to look away, but the sight of Spencer's dying body never left your eyes. Were you even blinking? Breathing? It didn't feel like it.

Spencer was rushed to surgery immediately. You didn't even get to say goodbye when you and Alex were sent to the waiting room. The two of you didn't speak for a while, until an hour or so later.

"Who's Ethan?"

Alex turned to you, "Ethan was my son."

"He passed?" You asked.

"When he was nine. I begged him to look at me." Alex bit her lip as you squeezed your eyes shut. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

You reached for her hand, which she took. "I don't blame you." You admitted, looking over to her with teary eyes. "Do what your heart tells you to, Alex. Don't let us determine what you're happy doing."

Alex gave your hand a squeeze as the silence took over once more as you waited. Penelope sent word that she was on her way, and you hoped it would be soon. Her cheerful demeanor was what you needed.

Finally, the doctor came to tell you Spencer had narrowly avoided death. You felt a breath release, one you didn't know you were holding. The man lead you both to Spencer's room.

Your first thought was about how peaceful he looked. Then, the panic set in when you saw the IV in his arm. "What medications will he be given?" You quickly asked before the doctor could leave the room.

The doctor listed a couple of medications when one caught your attention, "...Gabapentin, Hydromorphone--"

"Stop, what are those? Opioids?" You questioned.

"Uh, yes. Both are in the dilaudid family--"

You shook your head, "He can't have those. He had a drug addiction to dilaudid. Give him something else."

The doctor gave you a hesitant look, "Agent, those are what we recommend--"

"I don't give a damn, what else can you give him?" You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Uh, Morphine would be the most basic and cover the most ground." The doctor sheepishly responded.

With an exasperated look, you said, "Then write that down. That's what he'll be getting. Monitor the doses, too. I don't want to risk a relapse. If you have any questions, I'm his second emergency contact. First is Aaron Hotchner, he can attest--"

"It's really alright, miss." The doctor said, slowly stepping back. "We took note. I'll see to it that it is followed."

The doctor left and Alex chuckled, "You scared him."

"Good," You replied, sitting down next to Spencer. Alex took the other side as you carefully took his hand. "It's my fault, you know."

Alex's brows furrowed, "What?"

"It's my fault he got shot." You repeated, pinching the bridge of your nose tightly as you squeezed your eyes shut. "I was to his right. He pushed me out of the way. My head is just where his shoulder is, and he bent down to push me. It was meant to be a headshot, Alex."

Softly, Alex grabbed your hand across Spencer's body. "Sweetheart, that doesn't make it your fault. You couldn't have controlled Spencer's actions."

With a sniffle, you tearfully looked up to Alex. "Alex, please be with him when he wakes up. He's my best friend, and I failed him. I- I just can't."

Alex wanted to argue you, to tell you that you were exactly what Spencer needed when he woke up, but she also took into account your needs, too. "Alright," she sighed. "But please, come back after to see him, alright?"

"Yeah," You nodded, biting your lip.

Remembering the moment Spencer got shot was like it was from another lifetime, even if it was just from a few mere hours ago. You remembered exactly what you did, but looking back, it felt like you replayed every moment you'd ever had with the genius. Every lingering touch, every time he made your heart swirl. You would've never gotten to kiss him, or tell him you liked him. It was too much for your heart to bare.

Penelope showed up later on, setting up some Doctor Who action figures for Spencer to see when he woke up. The sight of it made you sick. Knowing he would need to see something good when he opened his eyes was too much, too soon. You excused yourself, leaving the room in a hurry as you left the hospital.

For a while, you sat in the black SUV provided by the police. You just needed space, air to breathe. After some calming breaths, you decided to get Spencer some flowers to cheer up his dull room.

The florist was only fifteen minutes away, so that's where you headed. When you walked in, the woman behind the counter noticed who you were. Small towns talk.

"I don't know anything," She said with a sigh, "You'll find better luck--" Her voice paused when she saw the look in your eyes. "You ain't here to question me, are you?"

You cleared your throat, "My uh, partner-- teammate, he got shot. I wanted to just get him flowers, I guess. Maybe this is too weird," You'd muttered the last part to yourself, turning around to leave.

"No! No, wait." The woman called as you turned back around. "You like this teammate of yours?"

You nodded, "Yeah."

"You like him more than that?" She raised a brow.

With a hot face, you nodded. "I do."

"I always know. I got just the thing for you, sweetie. Just give me five minutes to prepare it." The woman rushed into the back, and you hesitantly took a seat in a small chair. After those five minutes, she came back out with a gorgeous pink floral arrangement. "Put this together especially for you."

Reaching for your wallet, you mustered the best smile you could. "Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?"

"No charge, sweetie." The woman held her hand up in denial. "You work a hard job. I'm a mother, I know the look of love and heartbreak on a young woman's face. You tell him how you feel, alright? That's the charge."

Your eyes watered as you took the flowers from her. "Thank you, ma'am. You're too kind."

"Says the girl getting the boy she loves flowers after he got hurt." The lady smiled back.

After driving back to the hospital, you hit the fourth floor button and took the grueling trip up. You realized you'd left your phone in the room. Hopefully nothing too important happened.

As you walked up to Spencer's room, you heard his voice, but it was filled with panic. "Garcia, he has a gun!"

Your body moved before your brain as you ran in, grabbing the first person you didn't know. The male nurse, who you assumed was not a nurse, threw you back against the wall as you took note of the gun in the back of his belt. You reached for it, but felt the bottom of it crash into your forehead. He'd gotten it before you had. As you fell to the floor, you heard Penelope shout for help when you saw Spencer's bag, the one that had his gun.

Right as the unsub turned around, you grabbed it and shot him right in the chest. He fell to the floor as you realized you'd been clutching the flowers. Laying down, you let them fall out of your grasp as Derek appeared, grabbing the unsub.

"Oh, my ray of sunshine!" Penelope yelled as she helped you up "You're bleeding! Let's get you a nurse- a real one."

As she pulled you out of the room, you'd just caught a glance at Spencer who was watching you leave with an unreadable expression on his face.

You sucked in a sharp breath of pain as the nurse finished stitching up your forehead. A good sized gash was left from the bottom of the gun, and your shoulder was already developing a bruise on the blade. “Sweets, are you sure you’re okay?” Penelope carefully asked, squeezing your hand as the nurse grabbed the rest of her tools and left you both alone in the small waiting area.

“Yeah, Pen. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Playing with your fingers, you cleared your throat. “How’s Spencer?”

“He’s okay. Up and talking, the Morphine is doing him well. He’s not in too much pain.” Penelope replied, giving your hand another squeeze. “He was thankful it was Morphine.”

With a nod, you continued, “Was Alex with him when he woke up?”

“We both were,” Penelope bit her lip, “but he still asked for you.”

“I just couldn’t be there,” A sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed a hand over your cheek. “It should’ve—”

Penelope raised her eyebrows, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It shouldn’t have been anybody. This is not your fault, I won’t let you believe it.”

A throb emitted from your forehead, “When do we leave? I just want to go home.”

“Spencer’s being airlifted there. We leave right when he does, in about thirty minutes. JJ packed all your things and brought them to the jet for you.” Penelope softly smiled. You made a mental note to thank JJ for doing that for you. “You know you’re going to have to talk to him, right?”

“I don’t want to think about it, Pen.” You shook your head as much as the pain would allow. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Penelope nodded softly, taking your hand and guiding you to the car to go to the jet.

Two days later, and you were still at home in your apartment. Your forehead only got worst with a huge bruise around the stitches. That wasn’t to mention the pain radiating from your left shoulder, either. You felt so bad for not seeing Spencer while he was awake in the hospital, but even now, the thought made you sick to your stomach. Seeing him in pain, in the hospital gown, the beeping of the machines, it was all just too much to bear. It was worse knowing that should’ve been you.

You were sat in your sofa, a half-melted bag of peas on your forehead when you heard the doorbell ring. Slowly, you got up off the couch-- much to your dismay-- and approached the door, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

Spencer standing outside the door, holding a similar flower arrangement to the one you'd gotten him, was not what you expected.

"Reid," You softly said, his last name feeling odd on your tongue. He was never Reid to you. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing. Morgan, uh, told me you got knocked around pretty good." Spencer eyed your forehead, making you feel like a tiny specimen under a microscope. You allowed your hair to fall over it, covering the large, disgusting mark.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "I'm alright." After a moment, you came to your senses, "Uh, come on in. Sorry if it's messy."

"I think I'll live," Spencer chuckled, making your blood run cold at his words. You lead him inside, and even if he'd been in your apartment a numerous amount of times, it felt different now.

Spencer sat on the other end of your sofa. You pressed yourself to the arm, giving plenty of space between the both of you. "Are you in pain?"

"No, not really." Spencer hummed as he pondered your question. "But swallowing sometimes feels different."

"Ah," You casually replied as you went to pick at your nails. You stopped yourself-- don't give Spencer any of your tells. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I wish you would've came to see me sooner." Spencer admitted. "I missed you. I thought you would've been there when I woke up."

Guilt crept into your gut as you replied, "I was out getting you flowers."

"For three hours?"

Spencer's comment clocked you. "Spencer," You rubbed your neck, head slinging down to stare at your lap. "I couldn't be there."

"Why?" Spencer breathlessly asked, his eyes pleading for an answer.

He felt so alone when he opened his eyes and you weren't there. Sure, Alex and Penelope both were, but he was searching for you the whole time. You were his rock, you had been for the last three years. Sure, at first he took a while to warm up to you. Two months, twenty-three days, seventeen hours, and sixteen minutes, to be precise. The moment you both connected, however, it was like you and Spencer were attached at the hip. You had always been there for him. Why weren't you there for him now? It tore down Spencer to know you weren't there, but he was also concerned for your well-being as well.

"That shot was meant for me, Spencer." Your voice was cold as you spoke, a small quiver when you said it was for yourself. "We both know that would've been a headshot."

"You're mad that I saved your life?" Spencer didn't want to become angry, but he did feel frustrated at your lack of understanding.

You huffed, standing up quickly, "I'm mad that you hurt yourself for me, Spencer! You almost died, what would I have done if you died?"

"Says you," Spencer retorted, a small look of bewilderment on his face. "I couldn't live with myself if you died."

The air was thick in the room as you paced while Spencer watched. "Oh, so getting yourself shot was the answer. You scared Alex half to death, and I've never seen Derek cry before this! Don't even mention JJ going dead silent on us."

"Is this about them, or is this about us?" Spencer questioned, crossing his arms.

"This is about-- agh!" As you threw your arms out in distress, pain radiated through your shoulder blade. Your face scrunched in pain as Spencer quickly jolted to your side.

He softly took your arm, "Hey, hey. Let's just sit down, okay? Do you need more ice? Or, a better ice pack?" Spencer helped you sit down, and he grabbed your ankles to pop them up on the small ottoman in front of the couch.

"Better one would be nice," you muttered. "M' still mad at you."

"That's okay," Spencer's voice became more distant as he walked into your kitchen. "I guess I'd be mad, too. If I was in your situation, I mean."

You hummed, "Damn right."

Spencer chuckled as he made his way back into the living room. He gently pushed your hair out of your face, cringing at the huge bruise. You held onto the ice bag as he helped you sit forward. He could see the bruise that made its way up from your shoulder blade. It fell just above the hemline of your shirt, and the mere size made him sigh softly. "He really got you, huh?"

"He was Derek sized," you chuckled bitterly. "Plus, I was trying to save your flowers."

"Well, the vase was broken, but I kept the flowers." Spencer softly laughed beside you.

Your eyes twinkled as you looked to him, "You did?"

"Of course I did," Spencer nodded, "It was the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Wow," Your tone was joking as you continued, "That's a really low bar. Gotta raise it, somehow."

Spencer softly took your hand in his. Every time he touched you, it reminded you of how much he trusted and cared for you; so much so that he allowed physical intimacy with you.

"I couldn't see you like that," You whispered, just loud enough for Spencer to hear. "It hurt me so much, to know I couldn't help you more. I-I couldn't- I-"

Shushes softly spewed from Spencer's mouth. "Hey, it's okay." He soothed, rubbing circles over your knuckles with his thumb. "I'm not mad at you. I was just sad you weren't there, but I understand."

"I can't live without you, Spencer Reid." You admitted, locking eyes with him.

Spencer softly spoke your name, and you noticed how his eyes flicked from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes. "I can't live without you, either." Spencer echoed, another hand softly meeting your cheek. "Please tell me if I'm reading this wrong."

"You're not," you whispered. "promise."

You both sat there for a moment, reeling in each other's presences, your life forces. Finally, the tension got to be too strong. You leaned yourself closer to Spencer, ghosting your lips over his slightly-chapped ones. You gave him a moment to back out, to tell you that you read it wrong--

and he kissed you.

It wasn't a hard, fiery kiss. It was one that was soft, sweet, like a shining body of water, or the sound of laughter. His lips molded into yours like a missing puzzle piece. Spencer's hands moved to hold your face so strongly, yet so gentle like he was afraid to drop one of Rossi's expensive china pieces.

As you pulled back, Spencer's breath softly hit your face, a peppermint smell softly brushing your lips. "Is that why you were so upset?" Spencer breathlessly asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I think so."

"You think?" Spencer half-smiled.

"I think so." You pondered for a moment. "Wanna prove me right?"

Spencer chuckled, pushing his nose to nose your own. "More than anything."

Your lips collided again, but you pulled back with confusion. “How did you know I liked you?”

“Pink flowers,” Spencer scratched the back of his neck, “They’re known for symbolizing crushes, romantic feelings. Your whole arrangement was all pink tulips, roses, carnations.” You eyed Spencer’s for you— it was all pink. “I guess your florist knew better than you did.”

You chuckled, “I guess she did. I like yours, too.” Spencer’s eyes fell to his bouquet and he blushed. “Oh, don’t get shy on me now, kiss me again you sweet genius boy.”

Spencer smiled, happily leaning in for another kiss.

It was then you realized why you were so upset before; you couldn't lose your home.

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader, angst, yandere, nsfw content

✧ warnings: obsessive yandere behavior, stalking, nsfw content, cheating, angst, creep behavior, jealousy, grabbing, sexual acts

✧ a/n: you guys wanted both the yan royalty and yan cheater so imma do both ‼️ i’ll post the royalty one later cause you guys are in for a treat

not proofread but enjoy! (ty for the love on the last post as well <3)

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

cheater bf who sleeps with your friends behind your back. it’s not like you were anything special anyway, he just tolerated you so he could get closer to some real women

cheater bf who makes you beg for the bare minimum: giving you his jacket, holding your hand during a scary movie, etc etc but does all those things for your friends with a charming smile

cheater bf who says you’re overreacting after he holds your friends hand during a scary movie instead of yours

“hey don’t be selfish, poor girl looked like she was gonna cry. what kinda friend are you?”

you miss the way his fingers trailed up her thighs halfway through the movie when you squeeze your eyes shut. terrified of the unfolding movie scene as your bf comforts another girl

cheater bf who has fucked your roommate in your dorm room bed. oh you’re asking why they look sweaty and tired? they were trying to move your bed cause she dropped something behind it ofc.

cheater bf who finally gets caught a year into your relationship after you walk in on him mid-thrust into your ‘friend’ after they both excused themselves to the bathroom during your hangout.

cheater bf who zips up his pants and runs after a sobbing you to explain but stops half way, what was there to explain anyway? you would be heartbroken yes, but he had got what he wanted didn’t he? ignoring the dull tug on his heart he returns to his dorm

ex bf who throws himself on his bed while thinking about you. finally he picks up the lingering sent of you on his bed and various items that belong to your littered across the room. little gifts to him and cards wishing him happiness. maybe you’d become more intertwined in his life than he thought

ex bf that drops your stuff at your new dorm in a cardboard box, unluckily for you, you open it at the same time and are left staring at each other. like a cat you quickly dart out, grab the box, and retreat after locking the door can’t you just look at him once?

ex bf who feels empty after your breakup, he misses your cooking, your nagging for him to take care of himself, your smiles. fuck. what was the point of being free to fuck whoever he wanted if all he could imagine was you?

ex bf who stalks your socials, irritated that you removed him from your posts and blocked him on everything. and one day when he’s on his burner stalking you, a new story pops up. it’s innocent enough, a picture of you at dinner with a small caption “dinner out”, but then he notices the masculine hand on the table across from you wearing a watch not quite made for a woman.

his blood is boiling. you’re his. his girl.

yandere cheater who scours his room for anything that reminds him of you, finally finding a shirt in the back of his closet that he didn’t find earlier. suffocating his face with the soft fabric, moaning as he sniffed the garment

yandere cheater who hurriedly ruts into his hand as he hold the fabric up to his nose, cock leaking as he fucks his hand to your scent. he cums hard, harder than he had with any of your bimbo ‘friends’

yandere cheater who finally realized what he was missing: you. he caves in and incessantly messages and calls you, showing up at your door to win back your love.

yandere cheater who grows tired, he’s always been impatient. he knows what he did was wrong, especially to an angel like you but everyone deserves a second chance right? after all you were his soulmate

yandere cheater who shows up at a cafe you’re at and sits across from you like nothing is wrong. when you get up to leave, he forces you back into the seat. whispering in your ear to not make a scene. pulling out his phone he reveals intimate pictures of you from your relationship.

“it would be a darn shame if anyone saw these hm? your poor mom would be so disappointed that her dear daughter was just passing these around”

your eyes widen and you beg him to delete them, you’ll do anything!

“just come back to me and all these will be gone”

he grins, to wide to be kind. he wouldn’t send them out anyway. your body was his alone to see. but fuck did it have a effect on you, your big eyes fill with caution.

“please there must be-“ he cuts you off.

“there’s no other way than back to me sweets”

once you shakily get up, he throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you pinned to his side as you both leave the coffee shop. your hot coffee long forgotten on the table as the chilly air hits your faces. your body further fills with despair as you pass the ally next to the shop, spotting the date you were going to meet. face bloodied and body limp against the red brick.

your ex was always far stronger than you, far stronger than anyone else you had met too. his dedication to martial arts was one of the things that had drawn you to him. but now, his vice grip on you as he guides you to his car isn’t to prove his strength to protect you. it’s to intimidate you into giving in to him

and if you didn’t, there would be consequences.

[maybanksprincess]

brat!

warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v sex, public sex, unprotected (wrap it up please), spanking, pussy slapping, creampie, neck kissing, biting, kissing, choking, hair pulling.

pairings: moody!gf x dom!bf!jj

requested by this ask, might have went a little overboard, but hopefully you like it. (thank you anon🤍) 💋

all day, you had been in a mood. for seemingly no reason to jj. every time he made a joke or poked ur shoulder teasingly, it earned him a scowl in return.

but really, you were angry because jj looked so good and you were sexually frustrated. it surely wasn't helping that girls were eyeing him like he was eye candy. he was yours. not theirs. so why were they always staring so hard?

its not like you meant to snap at everyone. you were just in a bad mood, and you just wish jj would take you back to the chateau and pound you into the mattress of his bed.

the thought made you clench your thighs, and since you two weren't at home, you couldn't fulfill your need.

when kiara came up to you with a crate of beers, it snapped you out of your thoughts. you look up at her with a unknowingly harsh look.

kiara looks confused by the way your looking at her, but she leaves it alone "want a beer?" she asks, already pulling one out for you.

"mhm." you hum, taking the beer without saying thank you. jj watched this interaction and rolled his eyes.

when you come back over to sit on jjs lap, he wraps his arm around your waist. "whats got u in a mood mama?" he asks, with a small smirk on his face.

"shut up jj." you bite back, with a irritated expression on your face, cleary expressing you aren't in the mood for his jokes.

his smirk fades and he looks at you, sitting up with you still sat on his lap. "im sick of your shit. now talk to me and tell me whats wrong with you." he forces you to look at him with a firm grip on your chin

when hes met with more silence, he lets out a deep exhale. "get up." he says, while patting ur ass.

you slowly get up, not knowing what jjs next move was.

he stands up and guides you towards the boat, the rest of the pogues were out riding waves, and drinking beers so the boat was free.

it was parked on a secluded part of the beach where no one went. he helps you onto the boat, and then he bends you over, your ass in the air in front of him.

"j-" you start to protest, but before you can get a word out, he interrupts you with a small 'tsk' noise, and spreads ur legs.

you can hear the faint sound of his shorts unzipping and it makes your heart race. your finally getting what you've been craving all day.

"yeah y' think im stupid baby? i know what y' want. y' jus want some dick, yeah?" he snorts from behind you, positioning himself at your entrance raw.

when hes met with silence again, he smacks your ass hard enough to leave a handprint on it. "answer me, mama. got you all wet and needy for my dick, yeah?"

you moan and tug your bottom lip between your teeth at the sting of the slap. "yeah. jus' needed u jayjay."

he smirks, satisfied with his answer, pushing his girthy length inside of your hole and starts to thrust slowly at first, but quickening the pace.

he groans, "y' so tight baby. squeezin' me an' shit." you can feel his balls slapping against your clit in time with his thrusts.

he grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking it back so he can turn your head to sloppily kiss you, as his dick plunges you even deeper from the position.

his kisses trail down to your neck, and he starts to nip at it, leaving little bite marks.

he lets go of your hair to wrap that hand around your neck instead, squeezing your throat enough to make you feel the pressure, but not quite hurt you.

he thrusts faster, grunting in your ear. "'m gonna cum in this pussy. thas' what u wanted, hm? jus wanted my cum in ur pretty little hole?"

you now have drool, trickling down your chin, your eyes in the back of your head as your ass jiggles with the impact of each of his thrusts.

you breathe out a "yes..."

he move his other hand down to your pussy to slap your clit a few times; knowing it turns you on. "cmon baby, cum for me." he coos.

with a few more of his deep thrusts, you cum around his cock, your pussy convulsing around him. you cry out, riding out your orgasm, as you feel him rubbing slow circles on your nub.

he spills his load into your pussy, groaning as his thick ropes of cum spread around inside of you.

after a few moments, he's still panting softly, but he lets go of your throat.

"don't ever catch a fucking attitude with me again." he pats your cheek