#and before anyone comes at me i have been watching all 3 teams
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I meant the isekai x self-aware fic with the team that you would never fight. I love it and want to see a part 2 of it. (sorry if I worded my previous ask incorrectly and confused you into thinking I was talking about another fic!)
OH- Butterfly- be more specific next time. I got around 3 different self-aware crk au's going on and you ought to specify which one you're referring to. I'm gonna mix them up if you don't T T Anyways, part two coming right up
Previous part
The ball's in your court pt2
While the battle between the heroes and Shadow Milk cookie raged on, Y/N cookie was just chilling with the kids and watching from the side eating popcorn (From where? nobody knows). The fight was pretty much still a 50/50 battle since neither team was taking enough damage for defeat. When did Shadow Milk cookie become THIS resilient??? Oh well, provided you got the healers doing their job and everyone else is holding up it would be fine.
Gingerbrave: So...
Strawberry cookie: The baker, hm?...
Wizard cookie: I thought you'd be bigger...
Y/N cookie: the feeling is mutual. And take as much time as you need to come to terms with it.
Strawberry cookie: And those cookies- the ones you brought to fight. Are... they the really like the ones we know? As in- the white lily cookie and dark cacao cookie. I don't know who the other two are.
Y/N cookie: Yes and no. Unlike the cookies of this universe, these ones are solely brought in to fight the enemy on my command. And if they crumble it's not a permanent death. They'll always come back provided I choose to use them for battle again. And even if I don't, they're on standby. Though I don't exactly think I'll need to put any of them on the bench with how well the battle is going.
Y/N cookie looks back at the fight, which hasn't calmed down in the slightest. But at least they were slowly getting the upper hand. The three other cookies looked at each other before looking at the baker.
Wizard cookie: So you're saying that anyone you choose to fight for you can and will appear?
Y/N cookie: Yeah, but that'll probably only be possible once I beat this boss or they lose.
Gingerbrave: Wow! This is so cool! It's like some awesome video game in real life!
Y/N cookie:... riiiiiiiiiiiight......
Strawberry cookie: I have a question.
Y/N cookie: Ask away.
Strawberry cookie: Earlier you said something about... Elder Faerie crumbling?... I-is that really gonna happen?
Y/N cookie: Uhh
Wizard cookie: Oh so I wasn't the only one who heard that.
Y/N cookie: Well-
Gingerbrave: Wait- he's gonna crumble?! When?!
Y/N cookie: Ok just calm down so I can speak, geez!
All three cookies go silent, looking up at Y/N cookie with visible concern as they sigh.
Y/N cookie: So originally, he supposed to die. I'm not gonna go into too much detail cuz that's way too many spoilers but yeah, he dies. I was admittedly hoping it wouldn't come to that since a whole lot of dialogue was changed, but I guess there odds of the story changing were pretty low.
Gingerbrave: W-when does it happen?! Maybe we can stop it?!
Y/N cookie: Considering how long the fight's been going I'd say right about-
Just then there was a yell of pain from the battle grounds, causing all the cookies to look at the source. Surprise surprise, Elder faerie was dying.
Y/N cookie: Now...
The four went to the scene. (skipping the whole using the guardians strength part because it's gonna take forever for me to finish this story if I don't.)
Y/N cookie: Can't you heal him or something, Mystic flour cookie?
Mystic flour cookie: No.
Y/N cookie: Why not-
Mystic flour cookie: I'm not about to interfere with a canon event.
Y/N cookie: Ah- fair.
Burning Spice cookie: And so the old fool dies. And yet, I still feel nothing.
Y/N cookie: Wait is that a ref-
White Lily cookie: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO NOCHALANT ABOUT THIS?! I JUST BECAME A GUARDIAN FOR TREES SAKE!
Moonflower Faerie: You'll get over it.
White Lily cookie: Wait- really?
Moonflower faerie: No- that's gonna haunt you for weeks to come, trust me.
White Lily cookie: oh-
Dark Cacao cookie (Dragon lord): Now, let us make haste and seal that wretched beast once and for all.
Y/N cookie: He's gonna be back in- like, Beast yeast episode 7
Burning spice + Mystic flour: What?-
Y/N cookie: Nothing- let's just go!
#crk#cookie run kingdom#cr kingdom#crk x reader#burning spice cookie#cookie run#mystic flour cookie#shadow milk cookie#white lily cookie#pure vanilla cooke#gingerbrave#strawberry cookie#wizard cookie#awakened dark cacao
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the reason why red team wins isn’t because they submit tasks last minute. that isn’t even the biggest part of their strategy, so let me tell you what red is doing to win:
delegating tasks: each member has spent most of their time collecting whatever resource the team needs. they work together to come up with specific goals (eg. enchantment table, mining iron, getting string) and then send specific people out to do that task, usually whoever’s free at the moment
helping each other: they would all drop everything at a moment’s notice to help a teammate in trouble
sharing resources: red team shares literally everything they own. most notably, bings and personal quest items
personal tasks: they all help each other out to finish these, and they make sure everyone active gets them done. i think a good chunk of their points come from this category actually, since the other teams don’t seem to prioritize it as much
not seeking fights: ok sure, they’ve gotten in a decent amount of fights, but usually the fight comes to them. they aren’t spending their time searching for people to kill, rather most of their kills have been from running into others in the wild or at spawn (foolish did spend time looking for tina today, but that was mostly looking for blue base as a strategic point)
using time wisely: to kind of add onto the point above, they aren’t spending all their time walking thousands of blocks to others’ bases. they also are very communicative about how much time they have left and what to use it for. they’ll ask how they can help the team with their last ten minutes, for instance
communicating: red team spends almost their entire time on the server in a vc together. I know this isn’t exactly every creator’s thing, but they could still type in chat if they didn’t want to talk. red team have even been leaving discord messages to their teammates to tell them info when they’re not online!
varying their points: i think this is the most important thing tbh. instead of only focusing on tasks or kills, etc. they do a little bit of every. they make sure to do well in every possible point category
being silly: it’s the best part!! the silliness boosts team morale
seriously though, the red team doesn’t just sweep the win at the last minute. if that was true then they wouldn’t log in until the last ten minutes. all the active members spend their 5 hours (or however long they’re playing that day) working on gathering materials and being useful for the team. the only advantage they have from being online later is they know how many points they need to get to catch up. so they can sort of measure how many kills or resources they’d need, etc. but knowing what they need doesn’t guarantee they’ll get it. the red team puts a lot of hard work into their wins it’s not just a cheap sweep. they are clever, resourceful, and strategic
#this is strategy analysis not discourse#i’m analyzing this like it’s a betting sport#it’s FUN#really if the other teams want to win they just need to communicate better that’s the whole point of the event!!#and before anyone comes at me i have been watching all 3 teams#and me saying red team does this doesn’t mean i’m saying the other teams aren’t doing it#i’m just saying this is what red is doing that’s making them WIN#qsmp
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im ruminating about the expansion draft....would love some rules
#my concern is that unless we make a trade we can't keep our top 7/8 depending#i've said this previously i don't think dt gets protected bc i don't think she announces if she's coming back before the draft#and i don't think anyone would take her out of respect#which leaves bg tash kah and sophie all getting protected#then you have bec which her staying would be reliant on nate wanting to run a 4 guard line up again#but with free agency the likelihood that we could get a strong 4 from the start is higher than it was after the break#and i've been very clear about this i want celeste protected and tbh i think a lot of the team would want that too#bc she's going to get her shot over the winter and it's going to be a game changer#really the 6/7 players are the most important to having a strong team i think#because that's the only way you can have good rotation#if we had to leave mack unprotected the only way that would work is if we pick up another 4/5 like li yueru#bc the goal should be to run the same system regardless of who is on the court and i think mack and li are great subs for bg#but i do still like mack and if she goes unprotected she would def get picked up#back to bec i think a healthy bec allen is worth it but looking at her games played history it's a concern#but at the same time i think if we can get a 4 who can shoot the 3 that would really elevate nate's system#the thing for me is you can't build a roster that falls apart if one person is out#and then you have the potential open 2 spot#i know phnx said they like kp to take over the 2 when the time comes#i don't care to watch the *ces so idk but there really is not someone who can truly replace dt and her bball iq#but i also basically don't watch anyone other than who the merc play so#there's the opportunity to get someone in the draft but with the 12th pick it seems less than ideal then again we got celeste for free#or make a trade for any number of people#but i guess we'll see#really what i want is no expansion draft#but apparently the teams already know the rules
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maiden wins & secret meet-ups
pairing: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader
summary: cons of being in a secret relationship—oscar wins his first race, and you can't celebrate with him outright like you want to. (1.9k)
warnings: secret relationship, max’s younger sister but no descriptors of reader so imagine whomever you want!
a/n: oscar piastri grand prix winner sounds like music to my ears <3 better decisions definitely could've been made on mclaren’s end, but still over the moon for oscar!!!
You have mixed feelings as Oscar zooms past the checkered flag.
Your brother is pissed. Max has been furious the entire race, at the car’s capabilities, at the team’s strategies, and more than likely at himself too. He’s hard on himself, but that’s the way you have to be to maintain a razor sharp edge like the one Max has.
You’re a little upset too, what with sibling solidarity and all, but you really have to fight the truly massive smile threatening to overtake your face as you watch the broadcast from Red Bull hospitality.
It’s not everyday the guy you’ve been secretly seeing for the past five months—your boyfriend, as much as it still feels weird to say that—gets his maiden Formula One win. He’s worked hard, as everyone involved with all the teams has, but you’re biased.
Oscar’s win, although marked with some not so great strategy calls on McLaren’s end, even you could tell, is one for the books.
You’re buzzing with barely contained excitement, even hours later, itching to find Oscar and pull him aside so you can give him the love he deserves for everything that happened today.
It seems like Oscar’s thinking of you too, because your phone chimes with a text right then.
Oscar: Hey, what’re you doing right now?
You bite your lip to hide the giddy reaction you still get whenever Oscar texts you as you tap out a reply. Nothing. What’s up?
Oscar: Behind the RB hub. Can you sneak out?
You: Be right there <3
You look up, glancing around to see if anyone who’d go running straight to Max was around, and gladly coming up empty. You’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from hightailing it towards the back exit of the motorhome even if you wanted to. You haven’t seen Oscar after the race yet. There hasn’t been a good time to sneak out and find him.
Oscar’s pacing back and forth when you emerge, stopping only when he hears the soft click of the door closing behind you. For a moment, all you can do is stare at each other, unmoving.
You can’t help but look him up and down too, because you’re definitely not immune to how sexy your man looks post race.
Race suit tied off around his waist, showing off those snug black fireproofs that cling to his chest and arms just right, messy hair tucked into that special black OP1 cap—you’re not ashamed of your ogling.
Then he smiles adorably, and now you’re grinning like a maniac too, letting out a gleeful, albeit quiet giggle as you close the gap and throw yourself into his arms.
He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist as he hugs you tightly. You’ve got your cheek squished against the hard plane of his shoulder, and the zipper of his suit digs into your hip sharply, but you’re so happy for him, so happy that it doesn’t even matter.
“I’m so proud of you, Osc,” You sigh contentedly. “I narrowly avoided cheering at the top of my lungs in the middle of the hub. Would not have been a good look for me, would it?”
“Probably not, no,” Oscar laughs, setting you back down on your feet. His arms stay in their place around you, as do yours where they’re looped around his neck.
You take him in fully now, flicking the bill of his new cap playfully. “Nice hat.”
“You think so?” You nod wholeheartedly and he swipes it off his head, blowing the previously champagne soaked confetti off of it before securing it on your head. It’s a bit sticky and even more sweaty, but the gesture itself makes you beam. Then he leans in to sniff it and makes a weird face. “Yeah, maybe I’ll just get you a new one.”
“That'd be great, actually. I want you to keep this one to remember your first win—champagne, sweat, and all. But I’ll keep it as collateral until you cough up the clean one.”
“Deal,” He replies, smiling fondly at you. “D’you have any dinner plans? If not, maybe we can order in, or find a nice restaurant?”
“A nice restaurant?” You tease, walking your fingers up the sleeves of his fireproof. Muscles pull taut under your fingertips like cords as Oscar shivers at your touch. You’re grinning like the cat that’s got the cream now, always enjoying the reaction you can get out of him every single time, no matter where you are. “Are we celebrating something, or…?”
Oscar shrugs nonchalantly. “We don’t have to. It could just be a casual dinner, if you want.”
“Oscar Piastri, you need to learn to be more selfish. Of course we’re celebrating your first win,” You huff, smacking him on the chest lightly. His lips quirk up into a smile again. “You did amazing. Seriously. McLaren is beyond lucky to have you on the track for them.”
“Thank you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hip tenderly. “It means a lot coming from you.”
You lean in to kiss him, finally, but then—
“Your—erm, your back pocket is buzzing,” Oscar says awkwardly, chin up as he averts his eyes to the sky. You groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest, fishing the offending device out of your pocket again to see your brother’s face filling the screen.
Max is calling you. You love him to bits, but he always has the absolute worst timing.
“Hi, Maxie. What’s up?”
“Where are you?” He demands.
“I’m great, thanks for asking. Yes, I did enjoy watching you race, thanks for asking,” You encourage, leaning back to shoot Oscar a look as if to say, can you believe this guy?
“Right, yeah. Sorry. I appreciate you making the trip out to watch. Better?”
“Much better.”
“Good. So where are you?”
“Uh…just getting some air, why?”
“Outside?”
“No, in your stinky driver’s room. Yes, I’m outside. Again, why?” You roll your eyes at Oscar, who merely chuckles silently. Max sighs loudly. Dramatically. “Are you alright, Max?”
“Yeah, fine, fine. Are you free for dinner tonight before you fly back to London in the morning?” He sounds uncharacteristically hopeful, but still a little stiff, like he’s still pissed. He probably is still pissed.
How are you supposed to tell Max you already have dinner plans with someone else when he knows for a fact you’re not close enough with anyone else in the paddock to get dinner with them, without letting him know who it is?
The answer is you can’t.
You look at Oscar hopelessly.
It’s fine, he mouths, shaking his head. You get the message. He wants you to be there for your brother, even if it means missing out on spending some much overdue time with you.
“Yes, of course. Anything for my darling big brother,” You say airily. You’ve always loved to push Max’s buttons.
“You’re not funny, you know that?” Max deadpans. You can almost picture the flat look he’d be giving you if you were in front of him. But then he sounds a little happier when he adds, “I’m almost to the paddock. I’ll meet you outside the team hub as soon as I can.”
Knowing Max, ‘as soon as I can’ gives you about five minutes to gather yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then. Love you.” Max parrots the same back to you before hanging up. You look back up at your boyfriend, lips pressing into an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Osc. He—you know how Max gets after a frustrating race, I—”
“It’s alright. Really.” Oscar shakes his head, shrugging. “Family first. He needs you right now, I get it.”
“We’ll celebrate your win with dinner as soon as we both get back to London, alright? I promise. Maybe I’ll even cook for you.”
His eyebrows nearly fly into his hairline at that, and he tilts his head, letting out a thoughtful noise. “Maybe I should win more often if it means I get a home cooked meal for it.”
“Maybe you should. Winning looks good on you anyways.”
“Does it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, believe me. Feels good though, even if it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.”
“You did great,” You say firmly, punctuating the fact with a sharp nod. “Own it.”
Oscar blinks a few times, as if he’s digesting the compliment. “Thank you.”
“Alright, you need to go before Max gets here, because he’ll probably try to fight you if he sees us together.”
“Your brother likes me.”
“We’ll talk about why that may or may not be true another time. For now, go.” You give his chest what’s meant to be one last tap before you go.
Oscar, however, has a different idea. He grabs your hand as you move to pull away, tugging you back towards him and pressing his lips against yours, firm enough to knock the wind out of you, but not hard enough to bruise.
You’re fully aware that you’re technically in public, where anyone could turn the corner to see the two of you wrapped up in your own little world together. Specifically, any Red Bull employee that would definitely rat you out to Max. It doesn’t really matter to you though, because all that’s running through your mind right now is Oscar, Oscar, Oscar—
He pulls back too soon for your liking, dotting a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Alright, I’ll be off then.”
“Real funny, Piastri!” You call after him. He just shoots you a haphazard thumbs up behind his head, though you suspect if he turned around he’d be grinning like a little shit.
“Don’t forget to hide that hat!” is all he says in response, and then he’s out of sight.
You slip back into the motorhome through the door you came through, hiding Oscar’s hat until you get to where you’ve stored your bag and stuffing it in as best you can, before hurrying out to wait for Max out front.
He materializes by your side only seconds after you’ve managed to make yourself a little more put together, startling you with his blunt words.
“Why do you look like that?” He asks, squinting at you in confusion.
“Wow, thanks. You look absolutely stunning today too.” You roll your eyes at him, to which he just raises a judgy brow. “Why do I look like what?”
“Like you’ve just been hit over the head with a frying pan.”
At that moment, a flash of papaya catches your eye from over his shoulder—Oscar, walking off back towards the McLaren hub like he hadn’t just kissed the daylights out of you behind his competitor’s temporary sanctuary. If you look dazed, it’s all because of him. But you can’t exactly tell Max that.
“Oh, um, I dunno. Just tired, maybe. Long day. Intense race.”
Max blows out a sigh, slinging an arm around your shoulders and leaning on you heavily. “Tell me about it.”
You pat him on the back sympathetically. “Sorry for the way it turned out, Maxie. You’ll get the win next time.”
“Yeah I know. But Oscar—he’s not that bad, as far as drivers go. What do you think?”
What do you think of Oscar?
You think he’s one of the best things to ever come into your life. You think he’s got the potential of becoming a World Champion one day. You think he’s truly something special, both as a driver, and to you.
Instead, you shrug. “He’s pretty good. Don’t really know him all that well, but he seems like a solid guy.”
You want Oscar to be your little secret for just a little longer, even if it means telling your brother a tiny white lie.
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#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81 x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x verstappen!reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fic
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"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen
pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . smut )
summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )
warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )
word count . . . 2800 words )
a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )
Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.
You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.
In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.
Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.
So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.
“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.
“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.
“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.
“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”
To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.
“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.
“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.
“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.
“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”
As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.
“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.
“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.
But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.
You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face
Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.
“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost.
You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him.
“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long.
The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth. When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.
“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.
“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed.
“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.
You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.
“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.
“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you.
Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst.
“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit.
“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover.
Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.
“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.
“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”
“Fuck really?”
“Yeah, i need it so bad.”
“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me”
The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before.
“I love you so much Y/N”
He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.
Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you.
“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.”
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x oc#f1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 smut
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Ooooo can I grab a spice pie a Eton mess with a coffee and hard lemonade please and thank you bunny 😊
With max verstappen
bakery menu!
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu (yay), there's still tons of things to order and i'd love for you have a little slice from the bakery! thank you for any prompts sent and especially to @e-verstappen for this lovely prompt! i don't usually get a lot of spice pie & eton mess orders so this was fun!! i hope you enjoy!! <3
spice pie ("i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut.") + eton mess ("be careful. your breath smells like cum.") + coffee (rivals au) + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)
cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, possessive behavior, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!max, ferrari driver!reader, jos jumpscare, oral sex (reader receives), couch sex, unprotected sex
this had a happen in groups of three within a similar time frame. and with max, these three things sent the possessive driver off the edge. you had been deluding yourself into believing that these encounters with him were simple little flings.
you didn't realize that max verstappen had been going around the paddock telling people that you were together and to get their noses out of you. regardless, things happened in threes
first, it was practice. for the singapore grand prix, you shoved max out of first position and he scrambled only being able to cling onto fifth. it didn't help that jos had come by to see how the weekend was going to shape up. secondly, the same jos verstappen congratulated you on the excellent job maintaining a strong presence on the track. what made max's mouth twitch as he watched was that his father was being genuine to you. and thirdly, while you and max were in his hotel the night before the race, both nursing a beer. he caught a glimpse of you on raya.
and that just set the driver off. beer can tumbled on the floor, and his hands around your wrist. your phone threatening to meet the beer can. your eyes gazed into his with concern marking your features.
"what the fuc-"
"i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." his words were biting.
"excuse me!"
"raya? really? you sit there all pretty on the track. getting all the praise, and the first place in the qualifiers. then you come with me and now you're trying to find other men to fuck." his voice was venomous.
you got out of his grasp and gave him a shove off of you on the couch, "this is stress relief, asshole." then shifted in your seat as you put your phone to the side. you hated that when he got like that, it turned you on, "and i barely got any praise from anyone besides me team. it was almost too close to call."
his hand was on your thigh and his lips at your neck. he said, "stress relief?" his breathing was hot against your neck, "god, you're stupid." his large hands were on your hips as he went after your neck once more.
this time were was little resistance from you. you couldn't help it, after all this time with him. he still made your brain turn into soup.
"no, no. this is far from casual. the trips, the gifts, our time together. you knew deep down that you're only on raya to kill time. because you don't want to admit that you already found your husband."
you took him by the back of the neck and looked into his gaze. you swallowed, "you're a possessive fuck, max."
he raised his eyebrows at you, "i have to. because these men don't know when a woman is taken." before he crashed his lips against yours. you wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders.
you hated it. he was your rival, you stood on opposing ends. you fought tooth and nail on the track, your entire career had been snapping your fangs at one another. so to be stripped for vulnerable felt so different. it was like max could see through it all. whatever face you've given to the press.
you hated more that it was the same face you put on raya. the confident woman of formula one. but deep down, you yearned to be loved by someone. someone who was as unbalanced as you. thus you collided with max as he got between your legs and started to get you out of the sweatpants (that he owned) you were wearing. your panties went with it.
"i need to remind you that you are mine, got it? i need that app deleted when i'm done with you. better yet, delete the entire account and apologize to the company for wasting their time with you on it... because you weren't finding prince charming on it." then went between your legs and licked across your cunt which made you tense up.
his mouth on you was hot and it made you heated all over. damn max verstappen damn him, and when his tongue came out you were gripping onto his short almost-blond hair. you felt the skip in your chest as he rubbed his nose up against your clit.
if you could, you'd be hitting him in the head in frustration. he drover you insane as much as you fell in love with him. a push and pull of desires as he orally pleasured you. your toes curled in the socks you wore (which was also stolen from him).
his tongue continued to lap against your soaked hole and his nose nudged up against your achy clit. it was a stimulated hell in the best was possible. it made you feel so hot that you eventually took your t-shirt off and laid there in just socks and your bra.
while it felt amazing, he didn't quite get you to climax, when he eventually came up for air. he looked up at you with those blue eyes of his. there was a heated lust in them as he got up from his spot on the couch and was on you once more. he was heavily breathing, as were you.
"be careful. your breath smells like cum." you said softly as you covered his mouth with your hand for a moment before he went in for a searing kiss. first on your palm before he pulled it away and went for your lips.
you whined against the kiss and gripped onto the back of his shirt. your nails dug into the soft fabric, threatening to rip it off his shoulders. his clothed, hard cock rubbed against your achy cunt.
"i want you." you sighed, "i hate that you're in my head."
he chuckled, "i wouldn't want to be anywhere else." he got his cock out of his pants and rubbed it against you for a few moments before he sank inside of you. his hands braced on the back of the couch as he got inside of you as far as he could go. which was far enough because you could already feel him bruising your poor cunt.
you shuddered, your nipples grew hard as you held onto his strong shoulders. he always made you feel so good, especially when those soft lips of his were pressed against yours. it was because of you that he learned what lip balm was and didn't gross any of his dates out. now it benefited you as he rocked his cock up into you.
fucking on the couch like two desperate animals. but desperation didn't lead to long lasting sessions of intimacy. you hated that max verstappen lived in your head rent free, devouring any attempts to meet anyone else. why meet anyone else when you have max? while you bloomed under his attention, you hated that you had little choice in the matter. he had sunk his claws into you long ago. and now you were lazily making out with him.
you came quickly, like a strike of lightning through your body. you moaned into the kiss and arched your back off the couch as he continued to fuck you with a high intensity. your toes curled and your nails dug into his shoulders more.
he panted heavily, "that's good. a good little girl. you know exactly how to get me going." he groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts and it made you feel hot all over as his cock pressed into the deepest parts of you. your brain felt over stimulated and the kisses got harder.
you needed him, it wasn't a want any long. he was what was pulling at your chest as he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with a heated groan against your lips. which made you pant heavily.
you relaxed against the covers and panted heavily. you felt a drum of heat in your head as you looked at him. he was loomed over you for a moment as he tried to compose himself.
you let out a little whimper and it made max's cock jump while still in you.
"now do you get it? you're mine." he said as he pulled out and then grabbed your face for a kiss. you moaned a little into the kiss and when he pulled away, "right?"
you looked at him a little blissed out, your tongue couldn't find the words. but that didn't mind max too much, he could see it in your eyes. his little rival wanted him. he gave you another kiss before he got a hold of you. he could get a second round out of you in the bedroom before he fucked all sense out of you. <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#m#max smut#max verstappen smut#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 rpf#formula one fanfiction#formula 1#formula one#f1 smut#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1#mv33 fic#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1 smut#mv1#mv33 smut#f1 rivals au#rivals au
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Crush
Cheerleader Wanda x Nerd Fem Reader Short Stories
Wanda walks in, wearing her school's cheerleading uniform, along with her friends Natasha, Maria and Carol. Every student in the hallway stares at them as they pass along, books falling from grasp, whistles from all corners and sound of clapping from the basketball team.
You on the other hand is busy with your camera, a vintage Olympus Pen EE-3. You are to meet Pietro in the school's darkroom to have the pictures you have taken earlier that morning developed. You are a senior transferee from a neighboring school and have only started three months ago, yet you have no problem finding friends like Pietro and Yelena.
Unaware of the popular girls heading your way, you accidentally bump into Wanda as they begin to turn around the corner.
"Watch where you're going!" Wanda yells when her uniform is ruined by the cup of coffee she is carrying.
"Shit, sorry, Wands," you apologize. You take tissues from your bag as you attempt to wipe the stain off her uniform.
"Oh, it's you, Y/n," Wanda says. Her demeanor has softened when she sees your pretty face, smiling from ear to ear. "It's okay, I brought a spare uniform in my locker. Why don't you buy me a cup of coffee instead as payback? Later at 4pm after cheer practice?"
You nod, breathless. "Yeah, sure, Wands. I'll see you later then."
Wanda smiles before leaning in to kiss your cheek, making you blush and frozen on the spot.
The girls then walk away, Natasha laughing with others. "Gosh, why is she so oblivious?"
Wanda sighs, wiping her uniform with the tissue you gave. "I don't know. I don't know if she even likes me."
"Come on, Wanda," Carol interrupts. "You're everybody's type."
"Not hers," she complains as as she arrives at her locker and takes the extra uniform she brought with her to school.
Wanda thinks it was love at first sight when she saw you in her house months ago, playing video games with her brother Pietro. You are in the same class as him. Wanda has heard about a new student starting that day and she has been so ecstatic to meet you and endorse her candidacy as the class president. She has no idea that you will take her breath away when meeting you.
Wanda is used to have a number of suitors, both boys and girls, but no one has caught her attention yet. Wanda thought being a cheerleader would help her romantically, but somehow she was never interested in anyone after a single date. She will probably die a virgin.
But when she hears you laugh, it is the most beautiful thing Wanda has ever heard in her life. And it has become her mission to get to know you and be hers.
The only downside to it is you never seem interested in her. In fact, you are the only one who hasn't asked her out. She tried to ask Pietro if you were dating someone and if you liked girls, but he was also unaware of the answers.
Unbeknownst to Wanda though, your cheeks never return back to normal as you head to the darkroom to find Pietro. You have been crushing on his sister for too long now, but you know you have no chance.
You're barely a nobody. While Wanda is part of the popular girls, you are just the school's newly assigned photographer.
You fell in love with Wanda when you took a picture of her in one of their cheerdancing practices, as ordered by the principal for the school newspaper.
You are basically a nerd, standing on the very last level of the food chain. She won't see you that way.
Wanda nods then turns back to her locker. She smiles as she brushes the selfie of you two together taped in her locker before closing.
But Wanda has seen you in every way.
"Come on, Wanda," Natasha calls, bringing Wanda back to the present. "We're going to be late for cheer practice."
Author's note: This will be a part of a series of short drabbles about Cheerleader Wanda, because I want to read more about Cheerleader Wanda but I don't have enough words to turn it into a fanfic. 😂✌
"Girls! Wait for me!" Wanda shouts as she runs towards her friends.
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ms americana and the heartbreak prince (logan sargeant x reader)
[ navigation / requests / guidelines ]
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★ prompt : ❛❛ it's you and me, that's my whole world... ❜❜ ★ pairing : logan sargeant x reader ★ face claim : unnamed women on pinterest ★ genre : fluff and comfort ★ a/n : i wanted to release this yesterday but got a bit busy, but in light of william's announcement, i figured a happy, feel-good logan piece would be nice for fans of his out there (+ i feel really bad for him) 🥺 ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!
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f1 🚩 Red flag in FP3 at Circuit Zandvoort as Logan Sargeant suffers a huge crash. Thankfully the Williams driver is out of the car and reports that he is doing okay, but the same cannot be said for his car.
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user1 he's making williams bleed money.
user2 he is definitely bringing in more than he costs. user3 logan's been in what four crashes already? user4 he's made them lose at least $3 million in repair work.
user5 glad he's okay!!
user6 they need to fire him.
user7 exactly, logan isn't good enough to race in formula one user8 dude roscoe or leo could probably drive better than him user9 honestly, how does he have a job atp user10 petition to fire sargeant before monza
user11 why is he still here?
user12 right? the crash was so avoidable. user13 he should have been replaced over summer break.
user14 how does his guy have any fans?
user15 he doesn't user16 mainly just fangirls who like him for his looks user17 how does he still have a car or a team?
user18 just sack him honestly
user19 guys stop saying bad things about him, i can't like everything!
user20 you got me at the first half 😂
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williamsracing We'd like to thank Logan for his work over the past two seasons. He will continue as a member of the Williams family and we wish him all the best for his future endeavours.
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user1 good riddance
user2 right? how did that guy have a car for this long!? user3 i mean i can drive better than logan 😂 user4 that's not too difficult uk, just don't crash 👀
user5 well done williams!
user6 took them long enough to come to their senses user7 now that they have a good car, it really was time to sack him
user8 i feel so bad 💔
user9 thank god, he's just a financial liability
user10 bye bye 😊
user11 really was about time! user12 can't wait to see colapinto in the car user13 watch him make the points in his debut race user14 that'll be so embarrassing for sargeant user15 who cares?
user16 nooooooo 🦅 🇺🇸
user17 let's go franco colapinto 🇦🇷
user18 is this really a shock to anyone?
user19 i was counting down the days after zandvoort user20 i thought they'd sack him right after that fp3 crash!
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text exchanges between y/n & logan dated 27/08.
logansargeant added to their story.
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yourinstagram there's escape in escaping.
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lilyzneimer this is so cute 💖
user1 couple goals fr fr
user2 right? i need a logan in my life 🥺 user3 why so he can crash into you? man's jobless.
logansargeant a much needed break with my favourite person ❤️
yourinstagram you deserved every second of it! logansargeant thank you for making it so special, babe. logansargeant i'm still smiling 😊 yourinstagram awww, i love you more than words can describe 💕 logansargeant not as much as i love you, but nice try 😉 user4 why are they so adorable?!?
oscarpiastri i hope you two enjoyed france, it's a beautiful place!
user4 i'm sure they did 👀 yourinstagram we had a great time, got to visit annecy too. lilyzneimer they took our suggestion osc❣️
alexalbon been to france twice in less than two months 😮
logansargeant did it without the yacht this time dude. yourinstagram its logan's new favourite country 👀 user5 what happened to mr america?! logansargeant the betrayal babe 😢
user6 they're so cute together 🫶
user7 right? we love ms americana and her heartbreak prince💜
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logansargeant Couldn't be prouder, dr. l/n 🎓 ❤️
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georgerussell congratulations y/n!
yourinstagram aww, this is so cute babe - i'm going to cry 🥺
logansargeant you deserve this moment so much ❤️ logansargeant i can't wait to watch you shine as a doctor 🤩
lilymhe such a beautiful graduation 💕
alexalbon where are my photo credits logan?!? congrats y/n
logansargeant you took one picture. alexalbon which you used! yourinstagram why do i sound like an afterthought alex 😢 alexalbon sorry? 😅 yourinstagram that sounds like a question, i'm heartbroken! alexalbon you're dramatic yourinstagram well, so are you. logansargeant presenting the drama king and queen, everyone. user1 i live for the alex and y/n banter! user2 right? they are so sibling-coded.
oscarpiastri we're so proud of you, y/n!
lilyzneimer ❤️
user3 excuse me, logan's girlfriend is a doctor?!?
user4 yeah, she graduated from oxford, she's like super smart! user5 i'm so happy for her tbh
user6 love how successful they both are rn!
user7 right? logan's doing amazing in indycar rn 🤩 user8 they're honestly living the american dream user9 after all the williams and f1 drama, i'm so deserve it
user10 it's giving miss americana
user11 so demure, so mindful user12 that trend's getting so old now 😭
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yourinstagram It's you and me, that's my whole world 💍 🫶
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user1 oh. my. god.
user2 we're finally getting mr and mrs americana🤩 user3 i can't believe she'll be mrs sargeant soon!
lilyzneimer congratulations 💕
user4 just can't take the florida out of the man
user5 i was just about to comment that! user6 this is definitely in fort lauderdale user7 they met there, so it's probably really special <3
georgerussell can't wait for the wedding mate!
alexalbon can we take a minute to appreciate my help?
logansargeant shhhhh 👀 yourinstagram go on... lilymhe please, you literally did nothing alex alexalbon i did too, i let logan borrow the marquee letters! lilymhe you let him borrow two m's and a y user8 i live for lily roasting alex in the comments 😂
oscarpiastri congrats, just saying, i expect an invitation 🥺
yourinstagram the matchmaker gets a spot on the bridal party 👀 user9 oscar introduced y/n and logan?!? user10 don't be afraid to spill the story oscar, we're all waiting...
user11 this is going to be the wedding of the year!
user12 more like the century user13 of course, it's the royal american wedding 🦅 🇺🇸
user14 i'm so happy, this has been such a good year for them
user15 right? y/n's a doctor now and logan won rookie of the year user16 what a turnaround after his f1 career user17 counting the days till they're begging him to return user18 his replacements haven't even bagged any points 😂
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yourinstagram I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover...
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logansargeant you made me the luckiest man alive, mrs sargeant ❤️
logansargeant or should i say dr sargeant 👀 yourinstagram not as lucky as i am mr sargeant 💕 yourinstagram or should i say indycar drivers' champion 😉
oscarpiastri so happy for the two of you!
lilyzneimer what a beautiful wedding ❤️
user1 you can't just drop a whole wedding with no warning 😭
user2 right? like i'm going to need 2-3 days to recover user3 i love how they were able to keep a whole wedding hidden user4 exactly, i'm glad they got some privacy.
alexalbon and best man of the year goes to...
oscarpiastri me! alexalbon the lies, the outrage, we both know it was me 😮 oscarpiastri please. alexalbon y/n, logan, what's the verdict? yourinstagram i plead the fifth! logansargeant what she said. alexalbon traitors.
user5 y/n's the prettiest bride i've ever seen 💕
user6 and logan's the most handsome groom! user7 they really are a match made in heaven. user8 i'm so, so happy for them!
user9 these pictures are so cute
user10 definitely the wedding of the year 💖
user11 that dip is so extra, but we love it 💙
user12 presenting miss americana and her heartbreak prince!
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logansargeant I was enchanted to meet you❣️
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yourinstagram the best christmas gift ever ❤️
logansargeant absolutely, i couldn't have asked for anything more logansargeant thank you for giving me this opportunity darling 💕 yourinstagram couldn't have done it without you love 💖 alexalbon they may be all love dovey here, but that's all lies alexalbon y/n threatened logan so many times during labour 😂 lilymhe cut my girl some slack, you'll have a broken hand if you put me through that kind of pain 😠 alexalbon but babies? 🥺 user1 we all know who's sleeping on the sofa tonight...
oscarpiastri so who do we have a godfather in mind?
alexalbon we both know it's going to be me. oscarpiastri i'm just saying, i am more responsible alexalbon for the 100th time, i didn't lose my cousin oscarpiastri no, you just misplaced him in a massive crowd 👀 user2 i didn't know i needed alex and oscar banter in my life.
user3 awww, the baby is so adorable
user4 right? logan and y/n make such cute babies user5 i wonder what they've named the baby... user6 we all know it's going to be the most american name ever!
user7 congratulations!
georgerussell amazing news guys! can't wait to meet her 💕
estebanocon Félicitations à vous deux!
・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚
liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri, haasf1team and others
logansargeant I am incredibly excited to announce that i'll be returning to formula one in the coming season to drive for Haas. I would like to thank Andretti for giving me three phenomenal seasons with IndyCar and two drivers championships. I wouldn't be here without your help and guidance. This a dream come true for me, and I cannot appreciate my wife enough for all the sacrifices she has made and love and support she has showered me with in the last seven years. I am who I am today because of her.
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yourinstagram so proud of you logan, i love you ❤️
logansargeant you mean the world to me, i love you so much 💕
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#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant imagine#williams racing#haas f1 team#f1#formula 1#ls2#smau#formula one imagine#formula 1 fandom#angst#romance#comfort#taylor swift#f1 2024#oneshot#fanfic#logan sargeant x you#social media au#f1 smau#formula one x reader#oscar piastri#alex albon#george russell#esteban ocon#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#zandvoort 2024#indycar
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the prophecy part 2:
poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand | s.r.
A/N: she's arrived! i hope we like this one,,,,.....,,,.,maybe a part 3 what who said that
cw: angst, hurt/comfort no comfort, penelope is a really good friend, fem!reader, spencer's kind of a dick bro
summary: you and spencer deal with the aftermath of cat's words
wc: 3.01k
part 1
_______________________________________________
“I wish I fathered the child,” Spencer starts, JJ can feel her heart tighten, “Because you and I deserve each other, don’t we?”
Cat smirks, “You’re much better at lying now than you were last time at the restaurant, bravo. Better keep the performance up when you have to go explain yourself to your girlfriend later.”
Spencer’s face steels up and he’s trying his damndest to keep his composure, knowing the only way to get the location of his mother is to let Cat think she won the game. But with every mention of you that falls from her poisoned lips, he feels the burn sinking further into his skin when he thinks about what could be going through your head right now.
“Even if you think I’m lying,” Spencer stares at her, trying to push down any emotion on his face, “That’s the secret right?”
Cat is taken aback by his words, almost looking offended and triumphant all together.
JJ watches her eyes well up and dial Lindsey to give her the go signal, when Lindsey learns at the hands of the rest of the team her one sided lover was pregnant with another man’s child, she devastatingly surrenders the bomb controls and Diana Reid.
Spencer slackens knowing his mother was safe with his team, but he’s unable to stop thinking about Cat’s accusation.
“How did you know?” He asks as the guard stands her up to put the handcuffs back on.
“About Maeve?”
He nods.
“At the restaurant, you were talking about a fake wife,” The guard walks her over to the door where she passes Spencer, only inches apart, “The ring may have been fake, but the way you spoke about her told me that she was real. And I’ve got eyes everywhere, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re different now than when you were with her.”
She pauses then chuckles, “But clearly this genius couldn’t figure it out.”
He feels the temperature rising again but JJ preemptively grabs his forearm before he has a chance to react, “The team has your mom, we’ll go meet them at the BAU.”
Spencer nods curtly and storms out of the room without a second glance at Cat.
————
The elevator doors open and he’s met with the relieving sight of his mother, safe and sound. He embraces her in a big hug while the team dissipates around them giving them a moment. Spencer holds onto his mother for some time, letting his emotions come to surface. The last 24 hours have been the most tumultuous he’s ever experienced—almost dying in prison, getting released, the kidnapping of his mother, and the most wrenching of all, you.
He can’t help but grip onto her like a baby bird refusing to fly. He’s been someone who’s had to grow up way faster than anyone expected, academically and mentally, in order to care for the people in his life when they weren’t able to themselves. It’s led him to questionable decisions with detrimental repercussions, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant they’d be okay.
Diana pulls away first and wipes the tears from Spencer’s eyes, “Can we go home?” He nods tearfully and pulls his keys out, walking to the elevator to go down to the parking lot. As they’re going down he feels the adrenaline dying down and the reality sink in. He has no idea how he’s gonna fix this—if he can even fix this.
In a taunt from the universe, he hears a text come through on his phone, from you, of course.
You should spend time with your mom and make sure she’s okay. I’m staying at Penelope’s for some time. We can talk later.
He sighs and shuts his phone off, slipping it back into his pocket. You were right, it had been a textbook definition insane 24 hours in his life, and he knew he needed to spend time with his mother in getting her resituated.
——
You and Spencer spent five days apart. Neither of you went into work, for obvious reasons, and all you could do was rot on Penny’s couch, barely eating or drinking enough water, hyper analyzing every intimate moment of your relationship with Spencer to find any clue that he wasn’t fully present with you.
Penelope would come home after her day at the office, bringing you food from your favorite takeout place just the way you like, the way only Spencer knew, and sit with you while you cried.
It nearly killed her seeing you so down, her dear friend who she cared for so much and wished desperately to take away all your suffering. But the empath in her knows that if she’s feeling this bad, she can’t even imagine how Spencer must feel.
She sits with you for twenty minutes in silence, your head in her lap as she strokes your hair before speaking up, “So um, he was able to put his mom back into a sanitarium. With a vetted full time nurse who said he’d get hourly updates from.”
“That’s great, Penny.” you mumble apathetically. A small part of you felt bad, despite what was going on between you and Spencer, Diana was also collateral in a whole different way. You were grateful that she could find some sense of normalcy after all that’s happened. You wondered if that could be you, receiving solace and safety from someone you were supposed to trust.
“He won’t stop asking, sweetie.”
You sigh, “I know, I’m sorry he keeps bugging you.”
She waves you off, “It’s not that. I—I don’t know how to fix this. You guys are my bestest friends, a—and to see Spencer go through wh—what he went through, and then seeing you after what he d—did.” she sniffled.
“Penelope—“
“I’m not trying to be selfish, I swear! I have big emotions you know this. I won’t tell you what to do or what I think you should, because honestly sweetheart I don’t know either,” she tears up more, “But I will tell you the facts, because like that dummy boy, fact dumping reassures me of what’s real. And I need you to remember that when your brain is trying to trick you otherwise.”
You start crying again seeing her all emotional and she puts a hand up, “Let me finish first, or you don’t get the donut I got you.” She laughs tearfully.
You match her laugh and let her continue.
“I only have one fact for you, and you might not like it but it’s the truth, no matter what you think.” she starts, “That boy loves you. Like he would petition the Oxford dictionary to put you under the definition of love, loves you.”
“But—“
“But two things can exist. He loves you dearly, but what he did was fucked up. How you feel is extremely valid. God, my love, I can’t even imagine how you feel. But if and when you go talk to him I just need you to remember that. Okay?”
You sit silently next to her, contemplating everything your brain has been computing the last five days. The spirals, the what ifs, the self doubt—you know logically you won’t get any clarity unless you face your fear, and accept that whatever happens is your predetermined fate.
“Okay.”
“I love you so much. I am always in your corner, and if it comes to it, I know his social.”
“Penny!”
“I’m just saying!” she laughs, “You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you need to, okay?”
You lean forward to hug her, “Thanks.” you mumble. She squeezes you and rubs your back affectionately.
You end up finishing out the week in Penelope’s apartment, using Sunday to deliberate your plan of attack for when you finally see him again. All the questions, insults, and doubt are written down in your notes app to help you organize your thoughts. But there’s no real organization, because what category does this even fall into?
You text Spencer a couple hours before that you’d be willing to talk to him now if he was free, and not even a second later he replies telling you to come over whenever.
The walk to his apartment feels like edging closer to the end of a plank that you willingly got on. The dread presses on you heavier and heavier with every step, and soon enough you’re standing at his door with a boulder on your shoulders.
The soft knocks echo through Spencer’s barren living room, and his head snaps to the door. He’s not sure if he’s mentally prepared for this, but he wipes his eyes and ruffles his hair stressfully and goes to open the door.
It’s like a truck hit him seeing you right in front of him, puffy red eyed and looking so defeated, nothing like the girl he knew.
“Hey,” Spencer breathes out.
“Hi, can I come in?” you reply.
Spencer stands aside to let you in, “Of course, yeah.”
You walk into his apartment, feeling a strange sensation wash over you. The familiarity of his bookshelves and antique chess boards provides you with a comfort you wish you had over the last week. But right now it feels like someone placed barbed wire over it all, enticing you to get closer lest you get hurt.
Spencer stands awkwardly in the door, watching you trek about his apartment before finding a seat on his leather couch. He shuts the door and sits in the adjacent arm chair, not knowing if you’d be okay with him even sitting on the same couch as you.
You clear your throat, “How’s your mom?”
“She’s good, she’s settled in the sanitarium.” he says with a slight tone of relief you knew he hadn’t had in weeks.
“Good, good,” you trail off and avoid his eyes, “Um, so obviously, I came because we need to…talk.” Spencer nods and waits for you to continue.
“I don’t even know how to start. But, I am hurt. I don’t know how to process this, or even get to the root of this.”
“Cat was lying.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
He furrows his brows, “Yes, she was. She lies about everything, that’s her game.”
You avoid his eyes, “No Spencer, that’s just what you want to tell yourself.”
“Baby—“
“You don’t get to call me that right now.”
That hits him bad. He takes a moment to take in your appearance, how you’re picking at your skin, repeatedly brushing your fingers through your hair and picking the strands that fall out. You’re trying so hard to be brave, he can tell. It breaks his heart.
“How am I supposed to convince you I’m telling the truth when you won’t even look at me?” he says with a slight edge of annoyance.
“You don’t get to be upset, Spencer! Don’t give me that crap—“
“I’m not upset, I just want to fix this! Maeve is gone, as far as it goes she might as well be an ex-girlfriend. The same way that I don’t get worked up over your ex boyfriends.”
“That is not nearly the same thing. You didn’t get to see her, Spencer. She didn’t even get a chance to be your girlfriend,” you huff, Spencer’s eyes start welling up as your voice lowers, “How am I supposed to believe that you still love me, when you’re thinking of another woman when you’re with me?”
Whatever color was left in his face has drained out of his feet, the swirl of emotions bombarding him senselessly.
He’s upset, he’s mad, embarrassed, tired, shameful. He’s feeling hopeless, he wants to just drag you to his sock drawer where that little box sits and show you exactly how serious he is about his love for you. But he knows that would be a cop out, and you wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t believe himself either.
“Do you think we’re the same?” you ask, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’ve stood up and started pacing the living room, unable to sit still.
“No! God no, you are so much more than she ever was.”
“Are you just saying that because I’m sitting in front of you, alive?”
He’s taken aback by your bluntness. You’re nearing the end of your resolve, and truth be told, you’re just mad at this point.
“Every time we’ve kissed, we’ve been in bed together, anytime you’ve shown any affection towards me, you were thinking of that…that bitch.” you spit out with venom.
Spencer snaps his head at you without missing a beat, “Don’t call her that.”
Your face drops, “Or what?”
He doesn’t say a word.
Calling a dead woman a bitch is beyond any morals you’d set for yourself, but this situation is one you could have never predicted. Doubling down you step closer, “I called Maeve a bitch, Spencer. And I meant it. Now what are you going to do?”
Spencer swallows grimly, “You can be pissed at me all you want but there’s no need to act…irrational over past things.”
“My boyfriend is thinking of his dead ex girlfriend when he’s fucking me! I don’t know what part of this you expect me to act rational about!” you scream.
He flinches at your raised voice, knowing you were completely valid. Spencer hates that he feels he deserves pity right now, that he can’t help how the grief manifested in him and confused itself with the love he has for you. He loved Maeve, past tense, or maybe he loved the idea of her considering he never got the chance to actually prove it.
He loves you. Loves—present term. And he has the chance to prove it every single day.
Yet, he still fucked up.
He stands up, “I don’t…think about her when you and I are doing anything. I swear.” he pleads blankly.
“Bullshit.”
He breathes out, “Sweetheart…I don’t know how to prove this to you. I love you, always you.”
You hardened your face despite your heart clenching, “Cat wouldn’t use that against you if she knew it wouldn’t work.”
Spencer’s face drops. He knows you’re right, Cat even told him the evidence that proves it.
A full three minutes of silence pass by before Spencer decides to speak up.
“It happened one time.”
Your glass heart shatters, “…When?”
“When we went to New York for that weekend between cases.” he recounts reluctantly, “It just slipped into my mind a—and I didn’t realize it at first. But once I did I asked you to stop immediately.”
Tears are free falling down your face, “Is that supposed to make me feel better? That you asked me to stop?”
“No—no it’s just me telling you what happened…It was…around the time of the anniversary of that day. So it was in my brain, and I guess it just…” he trails off.
“It just made you want to fuck Maeve?”
Spencer rubs his face with stress, “No, it didn’t. It made me realize that what I couldn’t have with her, I have with you and it’s a billion times better than I could have imagined.”
Your heavy breathes fill the room, and Spencer takes a daring step closer to you.
“I’m sorry, angel. I really am truly sorry. But I love you. I love you more than anything. I fucked up and I should have been honest with you. I’m sorry.”
For Maeve, for Mexico, for not being able to prove that you are the most important person in the world to me.
A soft whine escapes your throat, Spencer feels his heart shatter now, joining the scattered pieces of yours on the floor.
“I—I want to believe you Spencer, I really do,” you sniffle.
He feels the smallest glimmer of hope as you continue, “I don’t know how to move forward from this, I don’t know if I can.”
“I’ll prove it to you, I swear. I’ll spend every day proving that I love you, and showing you that you deserve the world and that I’ll try my hardest to give it to you,” he swallows and takes a deep breath before continuing, “Things like this don’t happen to me, people like you don’t happen to me. You are once in a lifetime. I don’t deserve any chances from you, but I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.” Spencer finishes with a tear rolling down his cheek.
A hiccuped sob escapes you and Spencer really wants to come closer and comfort you, but knows that that is quite literally the last thing you need right now. You angrily wipe at your face, battling your conflicting feelings on what the fuck is the right thing to do for you.
You realize that the truly sad part of all of this, is that you still love him. No betrayal could ever sway how you feel about him you think, and this seems to be the biggest one you can think of.
“I feel used, Spencer. Like I was a placeholder for something you didn’t even know you wanted.”
He pleads your name, “Never ever in my life have you been a placeholder for anything.”
“Well, at that moment in New York, I was.”
He shuts his mouth and bows his head like a cornered dog.
“I just want to feel like it’s me that you want,” you whisper to no one, “I just want to be enough. Why can’t it be me, Spencer?”
“It is you, it’s always you angel.”
You take a deep breath and let out, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” and you turn to walk out the door.
Spencer is left on the other side of the closing door, the shut of it echoing throughout his empty apartment. He pulls his phone out to text Penelope to expect you, and then drops on his couch.
Spencer knows many things, and while he has had his stupider moments, with all the certainty and truth in the world you are the love of his life. He won’t go down without a fight for you, because he’d always fight for you. Especially when you’re the one fighting him, he will always fight for you.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#dr spencer reid#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader
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Cherry
summary: after putting out a small kitchen fire at a bar, the bar owner offers buck a night of fun. when presented with his girls, he chooses you.
word count: 4.5k (oops)
a/n: this idea came to me in a dream after i read @spidermans-l-o-v-e-r ‘s glory hole fic, and i wrote this in one sitting. i have no idea what came over me but i was feral for this idea. thank you for posting your fic, it was delicious and i loved it<33 i had no intention of posting something today because i’ve already posted 2 days in a row and have more coming the next 2 days, but i felt the need to share this immediately after i finished. enjoy<3
warnings: smut, big titty reader (self indulgent, sue me<3), mentions of abuse (nothing graphic), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
MDNI- 18+ Only!
Buck has absolutely no idea how he got here; how he got messed up in all of this. He’s standing in the large back room of an old bar in downtown LA, with ten women presented in front of him. His choice.
Earlier in the week, his team responded to a call here. When they finally put out the small fire in the kitchen, the owner had told him to come back later in the week for free drinks and a good time, and who is he to turn down free drinks?
He wasn’t expecting this, though; ten of the owner’s “girls” standing in a line in front of him. “Free for the night,” the owner had said.
His eyes had immediately been drawn to you when you walked in with the rest of the line. You were much different than the rest of the girls. While the rest had their heads up, giving him bright, flirty smiles, your face remained angled towards the floor. When they all stopped and faced him, you kept your head down; he could hardly even see your face.
Even so, he was drawn to your plush figure.
While the rest of the girls were slimmer, showing off lots of skin, you had opted for a pink long sleeve shirt. You were wearing a black miniskirt, and some god awful heels almost identical to the rest of the girls that the owner of the bar had told Buck “really shows them off,” and a pink long sleeve shirt low-cut enough that Buck could see your large tits practically spilling out of your bra.
He almost feels bad standing here. He’s never done anything like this before, but who is he to turn down a warm cunt for the night?
“So, who will it be?” the owner asks, a smirk on his face as he watches Buck taking in all his girls.
Buck begins to walk towards the girls, hands behind his back as his eyes travel the length of the line up. Then, he stops in front of you, but once again, you keep your head down. Surely he wants one of the girls beside you.
You’re surprised when he uses a finger to gently raise your gaze up to his, and your knees almost buckle. It’s the softest anyone’s touched you in months.
“You wanna come with me, sweetheart?” he asks you in a soft voice, and you swallow quickly before nodding your head. He’s gorgeous.
“Yes.”
He grins, then takes your hand and pulls you back towards where he was previously standing beside the owner of the bar. He gives him a smile while you stand almost behind him, eyes trained on his broad shoulders and muscular back.
“You sure you want that one?” the owner says, and you blink slowly, trying to fight back tears threatening to spill as you force your eyes down to the floor again. He’s always treated you like this, but you don’t have any other choice but to stay.
“Positive.” Buck replies smugly, fighting the urge to glare at the man’s condescending tone. He looks over his shoulder at you, and all he sees is a sweet little thing that he’s not sure he’s going to want to let go at the end of the night. How could the other man see anything different?
With that, the owner of the bar waves a hand, and the rest of the girls file out and go back out to the main area of the bar to pick up men, and Buck leads you out of the bar with his hand on the small of your back.
“Are you okay?” he asks once you’re out on the street and walking towards his car parked down the street. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
“What do you mean?” He tilts his head, raising a brow before his eyes move down to your feet. You’re almost limping in the heels you’re wearing, but they’re what you have to wear, so you shake your head quickly.
“Oh, I’m fine. Part of the uniform.” you try to joke, but he isn’t having it. It almost pains him to see you in pain. In one swift movement, he pulls you towards him and lifts you into his arms, one arm under your legs and the other behind your back. You squeal, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat. He looks strong, sure, but you didn’t think he'd actually be able to lift you. You didn’t think he’d actually do it, either. It’s not like he has to be nice to you.
Once you’re in the car, he drives you to a hotel not too far from the bar. He doesn’t want to scare you by taking you to his house; as much as he wants to see you sprawled out on his bed, so he opts for the nicest hotel close to the bar.
Your eyes widen in surprise when you see the hotel he’s chosen. You’re not used to anything like this. You’re used to dingy motels, or the bathroom in the bar, or if you’re lucky, the backseat of a nice car. But never this.
He keeps an arm around your waist as he pays for the room, and he kisses the back of your hand when he grabs it to lead you up to the 3rd floor, keeping your hand firmly in his the whole way up.
When you get to the room and the door is firmly closed behind you, Buck steps further into the room, setting the key card, his wallet, and his keys on the dresser. You follow behind him slowly, then in one swift movement, lift your shirt over your head. You know what you’re here for, as much as his sweet actions make butterflies swarm your tummy.
His eyes widen when he turns back to you, his eyes darting down to steal a quick glance at your large tits practically teasing him in your see through lace bra. He closes the distance between you, grabbing your hands as you let go of your shirt and let it fall to the ground.
“Hey, no, wait. If it’s okay, I wanna talk first. Haven’t really done this before.” he tells you, his admission coming out a little softer than the beginning of his sentence. He feels a little weird about what he’s walked himself into, and he wants to know more about you before splitting you open on his cock.
“Sorry.” you tell him sheepishly. You bite your lip as you watch him shake his head.
“Don’t apologize, baby. Here, let’s get you out of those shoes first, yeah?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he gets down on one knee, kneeling in front of you and placing his hand on the back of your calf to urge you to raise your leg. You hold one of his shoulders as you lift one foot off the grounf, feeling your whole body heat up as you watch him take one shoe off, and then the other.
You let out a sigh when your feet hit the soft carpet, thankful to finally be out of those damn shoes. He smiles when he stands up, noticing that you’ve already relaxed a little more.
“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper. You give him a sheepish smile, shrugging as your eyes move down to your chest.
“He calls me Cherry.” you murmur when you look back up at him, a hint of a frown on your pretty lips. He tilts his head to the side, and he almost laughs at the name, knowing exactly where it came from.
His eyes glance back down at your heavy tits, getting a better look now that he’s standing directly in front of you. He can see the beginning of a cherry tattoo beneath your bra, right in the valley of your breasts, and he sighs. From the way the owner of the bar was treating you earlier, he’s half convinced that he’s made you get that tattoo, and you’re not very happy about the nickname.
“What’s your real name?” he asks softly, eyes darting back up to meet yours. His hand moves to your cheek, caressing it gently, and you chew the inside of your cheek nervously as you hesitate. No names. That was one of the first rules he had given you. But even so, your name is on the tip of your tongue, threatening to fall from your lips.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell me, it just doesn’t seem like you like that nickname very much.” he urges you gently. His eyes search yours as you stay quiet for a moment, and then, you tell him. Your voice is barely audible, but he heard you loud and clear, and a smile breaks onto his face.
He repeats it, and you nod, a small smile forming on your face.
With the way he’s looking at you, you can’t help but feel admired, and beautiful. That’s why you’re not surprised when the next words that tumble from your mouth are “kiss me, please.”
He smirks before he brings your lips to his, a hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your head up into the kiss and the other on your plush hip. His thumb gently moves across your hip as he kisses you gently, and while his grip is firm on your jaw, his kiss is soft and tender, which makes your head spin.
As his tongue pushes past your lips and begins to explore your mouth, you kiss him harder, teeth clicking together and breathing becoming heavy as both of your hands move to his cheeks. When one of his hands slides down to your ass and squeezes, it’s like a switch flips, and you’re quick to flip him around and walk him back towards the bed.
You break the kiss as you push him to sit on the edge of the bed, and then you kneel in front of him, hands going to his pants as you keep your eyes on his. Another rule: make sure the customer is pleased. When you’re at a motel and it’s clear he’s in no rush, use your mouth first, and then let him fuck you.
You’re surprised when his hands come out to stop you from undoing his belt, and your eyes are wide as you look up at his face.
“Whoa, wait a minute. What are you doing?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. He’s surprised by your sudden switch up, and while his cock twitches at the thought of your mouth around him, he sees the way your face changed. He notices the way your eyes almost become glossed over and unfocused, almost as if you’re on autopilot, like this is merely a job for you. Of course, he knows it is, but he doesn’t want you to wrap your lips around his cock unless you actually want to.
“Isn’t this what you want?” you ask, a little unsure. You’re feeling a little self conscious now. You’ve never had a man turn something like this down, and your insecurities from earlier about why he would choose you enter your mind again.
“Honestly, all I want right now is to taste you.” he tells you earnestly, and you look down, trying to hide the smile on your face. “But first, I want to ask you a question.”
You look back up at him, nodding slowly. He can see the insecurities inside of you, they’re practically written across your face. It’s the same look you had back at the bar.
“How long have you been doing this?” he asks. He hopes he hasn’t crossed a line, but with the way you don’t look away, he’s sure he hasn’t. Of course the answer doesn’t really matter to him, he’s just curious.
“A few weeks.” you reply with a shrug. He smiles, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“And how many times has someone picked one of the other girls over you?” He can’t fathom someone picking another girl over the soft, sweet thing kneeling in front of him. He had his pick, for Christ sake; all of the girls looked eager to leave with him, and he still picked you.
“A couple.” you admit sheepishly, feeling embarrassed at your admission. It’s happened more than a couple times, but you don’t want to admit that to him. Most of the time, it seems like the men want one of the more experienced girls, or one that’s easier to throw around.
“Can’t imagine why. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” he murmurs, eyes studying your face as a smile erupts on your face. “Can I taste you now? Please?”
You nod, and that’s all it takes for Buck to stand up, help you to your feet and then push you onto the bed, in the same position you just had him in.
He yanks your skirt and panties down in one go as you lift your hips off the bed, and then he puts a large hand over your soft tummy, pushing you to lay back.
He spreads your legs enough for his broad shoulders to fit between, and then he begins placing feather-light kisses to your inner thighs as his arms loop around your legs to hold you in place.
You watch him with a heaving chest as his lips make their way to your dripping core, sitting up on your elbows to ensure you have a view of him between your thick thighs.
As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he gives you a smirk, then dives into your cunt, licking and sucking greedily as he lets out a low groan.
“Taste so sweet, baby. Like heaven.” he moans against your folds, although you can barely hear him. You fall back down onto your back, your hands gripping the sheets as his tongue darts in and out of you slowly, his nose nudging at your clit deliciously with each movement.
He grunts as he notices your hands beside you, and he unhooks one arm from your thigh to grab your wrist, moving your hand to the back of his head. You whimper softly as your fingers weave through his hair, but you don’t pull it; you’re not sure what exactly he wants.
His arms loops back around your thigh again, keeping his face pressed as close to you as possible as he switches between suctioning to your clit and drawing lazy circles around it with his tongue. When he notices that your hand is merely placed on his head, however, he grunts again, unlooking his arm from around you and diving two fingers into your dripping cunt. You moan loudly as he curls his fingers against that spot inside of you, you back almost lifting off the bed as you squirm. Your grip tightens on his hair as he sucks on your clit at the same time, and when he lets out a low moan, you realize that he likes when you pull his hair.
You pull his hair a little harder, and you can feel the pit in your belly growing bigger as you get closer and closer to the edge.
In a few moments, you’re falling apart against him, whimpering loudly as he continues his movements, working you through your orgasm. When he finally pulls away, he straightens up, beaming at you as you raise back up onto your elbows, chest heaving.
“So good for me, sweetheart.” he purrs, and you watch him as he stands up, towering over you. “You think you can take my cock now?”
You nod quickly, and he smirks as his hands move down to his belt. You notice the tent in his pants as he undoes his belt, and then his jeans, and your eyes widen at the size of him as he pulls his pants and boxers down.
Your mouth is watering as he steps out of his pants and then lifts his shirt over his head, and he feels his ego soar as he takes in your eager expression.
He wastes no time crawling on top of you, letting you move up the bed to rest your head on the pillow as he goes. He kneels between your legs as he straightens up, now that you’re where he wants you, and grabs your hands to make you sit up. Once you do, one of his hands moves to the back of your bra and unhooks it easily. He slides the straps down your shoulders and moans when your heavy tits bounce slightly, finally free from your bra.
“If I didn’t want you so bad right now, I’d fuck those pretty tits first.” he purrs. You whimper softly as you bite your lip, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
“Please.” you whisper, and he lowers himself back onto you, holding himself up with his hands on either side of your head as he begins to grind against you.
“Please, what? Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” he tells you, and you trail your hands down his chest, desperate to feel him.
“Fuck me. Please.” He smirks, giving you a chaste kiss before he reaches down to grab his cock. He looks down as he lines himself up with your entrance, then slowly pushes past your folds, groaning as he feels your greedy cunt stretch around him.
“God, baby. So tight.” he murmurs into your ear, his face beside yours and his lips grazing your neck. You whimper as he stretches you out, feeling slightly overwhelmed as he keeps bullying himself further into your sopping cunt, inch by inch.
Once he’s buried himself to the hilt, he moves his hips back and then snaps them back against yours, testing. When you throw your head back in pure ecstasy, he repeats his actions, thrusting into you eagerly as he kisses your neck. You keep a hand on the back of his neck as he fucks you, fingers finding the hair on the back of his head and pulling it gently.
He whispers sweet praises as his lips continue down from your neck to your collarbone, and then to your tits. He kisses around one breast, then brings your nipple into his mouth, using one of his hands to roughly squeeze and tug on your other breast.
“Such gorgeous tits, baby. Beautiful girl.” he whispers against your skin, and your back arches off the bed at all the attention he’s giving your body.
His thrusts are strong, and when he uses one of his legs to hike your leg up to his waist, you whimper loudly, your fingers tugging on his hair as he hits the spot that makes you see stars.
“How many times you say they’ve picked another girl?” he asks in a low voice, and in your bliss, you barely even register what he’s asking.
“A lot.” you answer truthfully, too cock drunk to lie.
“God, they’re missing out. Such a sweet little pussy. And all mine, isn’t that right?” he asks, lifting his head and looking down to see that you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.
“Yes.” is all you can get out, but that’s all he wants to hear. He continues with his rough thrusts, and after a couple more, he’s twitching inside of you, balls tightening as he teeters on the edge.
“You gonna cum with me, pretty girl? Cum on my cock?” he asks, and you nod as your hands move to his shoulders. You can feel your high quickly approaching, and your nails dig into his shoulders when his fingers start to rub circles over your clit, sloppy and eager.
He feels you clench around him, and he groans, having to close his eyes before he cums too soon.
“Cum for me, baby.” With these words, you’re squeezing your eyes shut as your body goes tense. He tuts, bringing his hand away from your clit and tapping your face lightly, urging you to open your eyes.
When you finally do, he cums hard, hot white release filling you up and threatening to leak out of your pulsing cunt.
You look up at him as he lets go, watching his face contorting in pleasure, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. He practically collapses on you as you both try to catch your breath, and he presses soft kisses to your neck and chest as you both come down from your high. A few minutes later, he pulls out with a groan, watching your mixed releases drip down your thighs and onto the clean sheets.
He gets up and goes to the bathroom, then comes back with a damp cloth, cleaning up what’s dripped out of you and onto the bed. He throws it to the side, then lays beside you, urging you to lay your head on his chest. For a minute, you both forget the situation, too blissed out to do anything but revel in each other’s company.
“What’s your name?” you ask, your mind finally coming back into focus. Usually, you couldn’t care less about the man’s name, but now, you need to know.
“Evan. Buckley. Buck.” he says slowly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You hum, nodding against his chest, but don’t say anything else. You’re perfectly content with laying her with Buck for as long as he’ll let you. You’re afraid that if you disturb the silence, he’ll tell you it’s time to go.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks after a minute of silence, and you nod.
“How did you get into this?” You shrug, thinking for a moment. You’re not sure you should tell him.
Another rule: no personal details shared.
Even with his rules echoing through your mind, you feel like you have to tell him. He’s been so sweet, and you don’t think you can hold it in any longer. You haven’t told anyone else this.
“He’s my boyfriend. The owner. Thought he loved me, and I asked him for money to help pay rent because I lost my job. He gave it to me, but when I couldn’t pay him back quick enough, he told me to pay him back like this.” you tell him softly. His body tenses at your words. What the hell kind of boyfriend would make you do something like this to pay him back? He wants to storm back into that bar and beat him to a bloody pulp, but he knows that’s not exactly a good idea.
“How much?” he asks you softly, trying to keep his voice calm as he rubs your back gently.
“$800.” He scoffs at your words. $800 and he’s making you do this? You’ve been working a couple weeks; that’s what you said, and he can’t believe that you haven’t made him that money back yet.
“You’ve been working for weeks, and he still doesn’t have that money?” you sigh again, shrugging.
“There’s a place near the bar where he makes me live with some of the other girls. He takes the money I make and uses it for that too, so when I do make money, almost all of it goes to that.” You’re sure you’d be better off if you were more outgoing; more willing to go up to men in the bar rather than letting them come to you. You’d get much more money, probably. You’re much too shy to do that though, and you’re still not used to what you do.
He wants more than anything to get you out of this situation. He can tell that you’re less than happy about it, but he doesn’t know what to do. Then, an idea comes to him, and he speaks in a hopeful tone.
“Can I see you again?” he asks, and you smile, raising your head off his chest and looking up at him as you nod.
“Of course.” you reply, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you deeply.
You both fall asleep not long after that, and in the morning, he drives you back to the bar, but not before he gets your number.
Your arrangement goes on for months. You meet him once a week, sometimes twice, and after a month, you let him take you to his apartment. He’s easy to trust; and you know what he does for a living, so you don’t feel nervous at all when he pulls you into his apartment and pins you to the door, kissing down your neck.
He gives you money after each time too, far more than what he’s meant to pay you, but he insists. You try to argue, try to tell him that you can’t charge him anything, not when there’s feelings involved, but he doesn’t want to hear it.
He figures if he can give you enough money to pay back the $800 plus your current housing, you’d be able to leave and be with him, for real, sooner rather than later.
He’s surprised when there’s a knock on his door late one night, and his eyes widen when he sees you, teary eyed and a cut across your cheek.
“He won’t let me leave.” you whisper, and he’s quick to pull you into the safety of his apartment. He pulls you into a hug, shushing you as you cry into his chest. His body is tense as he thinks about your boyfriend, who he has just learned is now your ex as you babble into his chest about what happened, but he’s more focused on you.
He pulls you to the couch, and he listens as you restart your story, sniffling softly here and there and finally calming down now that you know you’re safe.
He listens to you tell him that you confronted him, asking him how much you still owe him, and about how he laughed in your face. He listens as you tell him that your ex boyfriend told you that your debt has been paid, but you’ve become good at what you do, and you bring in too much money for him to let go of you.
He clenches his fists as you tell him that when you tried to argue, he tried to force you into submission; pushing you against a wall and slapping you, resulting in the cut on your cheek.
He vows to protect you, that you’re safe with him now. He brings you up to bed, undressing you gingerly and pulling you against him as you both lay in bed. He kisses the back of your neck as you fall asleep, your back pressed tightly against his chest.
You’re never going back there again, he’ll make sure of it. He’ll find out where your things are, and go pick them up when your ex isn’t there, and you’ll stay with him from now on. You’re already his anyway, pretty much, so you’re his to protect. He’ll help you land on your feet, and when you’re ready, he’ll let you find your own place, but he hopes to anyone that will listen that you’ll stay with him. Forever.
the prequel
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BOY NEXT DOOR 11 - ( c.s )
part ten
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, starts fluffy (borderline cringe but get over it) and then smurtyyy baby ITS THE FINALE so enjoy
a/n: wow, a chapter coming to a close. you may get an epilogue…you may not…only time will tell. thank you to anyone who has supported me in general and especially on this specific series!! i had such a fun time with this concept and appreciate yall sticking it out with me fr <3
you’re really regretting your promise to chris now. it’s a day later and there’s less than an hour until the game, which is heightening your nerves like nothing else. you smooth your shaky hands over your sweatshirt, continually glancing over at your bed.
his jersey rests there, crisp and clean. it smells like him too; you picked up on the familiar scent when you were holding it in your hands earlier.
he left it in your mailbox, shooting you a vague text before heading up to the arena. though he didn’t tell you what he put in there in his message, you already knew. and you’ve been wrestling with how you want to play this ever since.
you got so comfortable wearing his stuff, especially to games, that it kind of feels weird not to. but you have a feeling that a lot more people know about what happened than you initially expected, which scares the shit out of you.
you suppose you have to get a little uncomfortable, though. it’s been so long since you’ve felt this way, since someone’s excited you, or even hurt you like this.
and it fucking sucked to be so disappointed. but you never ever thought you would bear witness to chris sturniolo saying his first real i love you, especially to you. it was maybe the one thing he could’ve done to convince you, because it was just so unexpected.
you already knew you loved him, so getting that confirmation from him first was huge.
you blow out a breath, still so antsy as you twist around, watching your reflection with a fierce intensity. nothing you’ve tried feels right, and it’s beyond frustrating.
just put it on. what’s the harm?
you’re tearing your hoodie off a moment later, tossing it to the floor as you reach for his jersey. it slips over your head perfectly, wrapping you in subtle hints of his cologne as you adjust it on your shoulders.
you can’t help but smile slightly as you glance in the mirror; if you ignore reality enough, it almost seems like you’re the same person you were a month ago; a blissfully ignorant girl supporting the boy she cared about.
cares about, your brain autocorrects you.
you never really stopped. you wouldn’t have gone over to his house yesterday in the first place if you truly had.
“hey, are you almost—” ramona stops dead in her tracks when she looks up from her feet, seeing you standing in the number 3.
you’re immediately ashamed, for whatever reason, like she caught you doing something wrong. part of it does feel wrong, and you’re about to say so. but then she smiles, like really smiles, and clasps her hands together happily. “finally!”
the reaction shocks you, to say the least, and you know it’s written all over your face. you shake your head a little, trying to find some way to ask her what she possibly means by that.
mona rolls her eyes at you playfully. “what, you thought i wouldn’t support you?”
you shrug, mouth still parted in surprise. you’re kind of smiling though; you’re happy she feels this way, you just weren’t necessarily expecting it.
plus, you didn’t actually tell them how you felt when you gave them the rundown last night after the bars, so neither of them could’ve known what you were experiencing. for the most part you were acting like it was strictly business or something, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“i don’t know what i thought, to be honest.” you finally say, shifting around on your feet uncomfortably.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
you sigh and mess with your hair a bit. “because it’s not, like, official or anything, and i’m still not even sure i want to wear this to the game. i was just putting it on, i guess.”
she nods, and you’re waiting for her to say more, but she doesn’t. ramona just walks over, pulling you into her arms without another word.
you’re once again stunned, but in a pleasantly unanticipated way. you’re beyond tired of crying, but these tears are different. they’re happy, because you can feel your heart mending, and mona knows that too.
“you took the time, and i think you’re ready to forgive, angel. i can see it every time i look at you, that you’re still thinking of him, and that’s okay. he’s clearly been a fucking wreck, and i honestly believe he loves you because he would never utter those words if he didn’t.” she laughs into your hair slightly, and you can hear the emotion in her voice.
despite everything, you let out a breathy chuckle too. “you’re amazing, you know that? i really lucked the hell out with you.”
she pulls away, still smiling despite her shining eyes. you dab at your own, trying your best not to ruin the makeup you had so carefully applied half an hour earlier.
“i love you forever. cass and i just want to see you happy and i think being with him is what you want. so if it really is, you should wear it.” ramona gives the jersey a little tug.
you know you’re going to now, and you decide you don’t care what anyone else thinks about it. it’s between you and him, and if the people you trust most support you, then nothing else matters.
“i…i will. and thanks, really. you always help clear my head.” you nudge her a little with a grin.
“of course,” she wraps a hand around your arm so she can start pulling you toward the door, “now hurry up, because we’re on the verge of being late and cass is waiting!”
being away from the rink this long makes the lights somehow feel a hundred times brighter. they’re beating down on you as you and your roommates make your way to your seats, the same ones that you’d become accustomed to ever since that first game.
it’s been a while since you’ve felt quite this many eyes on you, and it’s insanely unsettling. you focus on navigating the steps below you, because you know if you don’t you’ll fall and make yourself look even worse.
it’s at least loud, considering they’ve got all the music going for warm ups. you’re glad you can’t hear the crowd of students whispering about how pathetic you are, or how stupid you’re acting.
maybe it’s true, but you’re beyond that now. you’re willing to get hurt again, even though you hope with all of your heart that the day never comes, because you’ll regret it forever if you don’t try.
people make mistakes. but they only get one chance to make it up in your book, and this is chris’s chance.
so you square your shoulders and try to wear the jersey with pride as you guys finally arrive in the front row, even though it’s difficult to act confident.
fake it till you make it, or whatever they say.
your eyes find him skating around almost immediately, like they’re just naturally drawn in his direction. you suppose that it shouldn’t be surprising, at least not after watching so many games.
the way he moves is different; he’s smooth, always one step ahead, like he’s playing an entirely different game. it’s easy to spot, because he’s somehow the most fluid and the most aggressive on the ice.
you watch as chris skates back to the blue line, circling their half of the rink while they all take practice shots. that’s when he looks over at your section, and you can see the relief wash over his face when he spots you.
he nods, and you can see a devilish smile forming on his face as he snaps the puck into the net once again. it makes you uneasy when the rest of the team starts to glance at you as well, only to look toward one another after like some sort of signal.
you try to shake it, pretend like your gut is completely wrong, and for a couple minutes you can. they stretch and do more drills and everything seems normal, or as normal as it can be right now.
until they all slow down, gathering around the bench one by one to create a warped huddle. the opposing team is skating off of the ice now with five minutes left of warmups, and you’ve never been more on edge. mona and cass aren’t paying enough attention, so when you look at them in alarm, they’re purely concerned.
“what? why does your face look like that?” cassidy questions.
before you can even begin to explain the weird feeling that’s settled in your bones, the entire BU team breaks as the lights shut off. you can hear the confused murmuring of the fans over the music, which is fading out slowly now.
each of them line up, getting into position as if they’ve practiced a hundred times, forming a pyramid shape in the middle of the ice. chris stands alone in the front, and there’s a microphone in his hand, and—oh god, fuck.
seconds later the spotlight flares over to shine on him, and even though you know there’s no way he can actually see with it directly in his eyes, it still feels like he’s looking right at you.
you watch him gulp nervously, and you’re just as terrified of whatever is coming next.
“uh—hi everyone. i’m your captain, chris, and i wanted to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight.” he starts off, trying to brush away his fear.
though the crowd is still obviously confused, they’re applauding regardless due to their special recognition. on the other hand remain completely still, trying to avoid panicking so publicly.
“what the fuck is he doing?” mona whisper shouts in your direction, and all you can do is shrug even though you know where he’s going with this.
somehow, you can just feel it in your gut.
“seriously, you guys are beyond amazing. you’re the reason playing here is so incredible,” chris smiles charmingly as the noise dies down, pausing dramatically for a moment before continuing, “but i’m actually standing out here tonight like an idiot because there’s somebody in this crowd that i need to apologize to.”
your stomach falls to your feet, and you can’t do anything besides stare out across the rink at him. he’s looking your way again, brilliant blue gaze still able to pick up on exactly where you are, and you feel a shock course through your veins.
“i did wrong by her, and i’ve been kicking myself every day since. she’s the most radiant and passionate person in every room, and she’s also the only reason i’m even here in this arena today. the truth is that i love her, which is why i think it’s time to turn the tables and embarrass myself a little bit to prove that. plus you guys get a heck of a show in the process.” he jokes, earning some apprehensive chuckles in response.
chris clears his throat, trying not to let his voice crack. despite what you think, he actually can see you through the brightness, which makes his heart leap to his throat. “so to the girl of my dreams, i’m sorry. and i hope this shows you that i meant it when i said i’d never stop fighting.”
every single part of you is screaming in a way you can’t explain; you’re completely entranced, but in the same way that people can’t look away from a car crash.
the audience chatters as the lights go out again, but it doesn’t take long before ain't too proud to beg starts playing to cut them off. you recognize it immediately, and now you can’t help but crack a smile.
this was the song you listened to most when you’d drive around in his car, singing along together with the heat blasting on your way to nowhere in particular. you can’t hear it anymore without thinking about him.
the stadium ignites in a dreamy red glow, and each member of the team begins skating in slow circles, kicking their feet out lightly to the rhythm. chris remains up front, gliding around as if he’s walking on clouds.
he tries not to look at you too much, because this moment is about putting himself on display, but his attention darts to you every couple of seconds. you’re clearly stunned, but he sees the small grin on your lips, and that lights the fire he needs to go all out.
“i know you wanna leave me, but i refuse to let you go,” chris begins, voice surprisingly strong as he glides around, “if i have to beg n’plead for your sympathy, i don’t mind ‘cause you mean that much to me.”
you can hear people starting to sing along, and you amaze yourself by joining in for the chorus as well. cassidy and ramona sway beside you, both shaking you lightly as they try to contain their shrieks of delight.
“ain’t too proud to beg, and you know it, please don’t leave me girl.” he belts out, unable to contain his happiness when he sees your reaction.
his team continues to dance on the rest of the ice, leaving the middle for him as they goof off, each adding their own personal flair to the simple choreography. you laugh when you see connor and ben doing the robot at each other, simply because they look so damn stupid.
“ain’t too proud to plead, baby baby, please don’t leave me girl.” chris holds the mic between both palms, shaking his hands in prayer as he skates backwards suavely.
the beat swells as the jazz blares through the speakers, and they all line up across the center of the ice. there are tears in your eyes as chris joins them, arms all linked over each others shoulders as they begin a rockette kick line.
despite how insanely unsafe it probably is to do on skates, they’re all killing it. the whole stadium is roaring now; laughter, cheers, chanting along, you name it. you’re amazed, eyes flashing along with the glowing atmosphere.
having him serenade you with this song, in front of all of these people, is something you never thought possible.
there’s an exhilarated expression on his face, still completely focused on you as he sings his heart out, and it makes you completely weak. his defined features are as striking as ever, cheeks flushed slightly from the adrenaline of it all.
he’s the same handsome boy you thought you knew, and yet here he is, surprising you again.
you’re bouncing around as the song nears the end, only for chris to come skating forward from the others so he can slide on his knees across the rink, headed your way. it’s so dramatic and so fucking silly that you’ve got a stitch in your side from laughing.
for a moment you just look at each other, separated only by the plexiglass wall, and everything else in your mind quiets. you no longer hear the anxious thoughts, or the crowd, or even your friends screaming beside you.
chris’s chest heaves as he finally relaxes, lowering his outstretched arms so that he can shrug bashfully, as if he’s asking you what you think.
you shrug back, but you’re beaming so hard that your true feelings are on display regardless. you can see his matching teary eyes, and truly for the very first time, neither of you care about anyone else.
he’s fucking whipped, and he’ll tell everyone in the world without a second thought. you’re certain of that now, and so is he.
finally, chris pushes himself up and holds the mic back to his mouth, one arm out as he waves to the sea of people. “thank you everyone! get loud tonight, and as always go terriers!”
they all skate off the ice, and you see his friends embracing him in excitement as they head back to the locker room. chris takes one final look over his shoulder, and you give him a wave of encouragement.
he disappears and your attention finally turns to your friends, their mouths still hanging open from the rather electrifying show.
“i can’t believe…i mean he just…” cassidy tries to form a sentence, but ends up pressing a hand to her lips instead.
“that kid is so fucking in love with you, wow.” ramona giggles to herself.
you’re about to object, but you know she’s right. and after that display, there’s certainly no point in arguing about it, because then you’d just be giving some shitty explanation.
before you can even start babbling, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you freeze again. you know who it is, but your heart is pounding against your ribcage as you check anyways.
chris
we’ll talk after?
it's the first text from him in weeks that you’re going to respond to, the first of many you suppose. that makes you smile as you type out an answer.
y/n
only if you win :)
and he does. he does win. in fact, chris went out there and played probably the best game of his entire career.
a hat trick, which he’s never done in his life, all for you.
the team is electric, and he knows the party will be coming back to his place as they all rage in the locker room after the game. it was incredible, and this moment with them is great, but the only person he wants to see is you.
so he slips into the hallway, already dialing your number as the door finally swings shut to contain some of the noise.
you pick up on the first ring.
“i won.” chris states immediately, and he can hear the grin in his own voice.
“you did.” you respond.
it’s a lame attempt at being coy, and you both know it. he leans his shoulder up against the wall, shaking his head even though you can’t see it.
“three goals was pretty impressive, huh? probably worth talking to me over, at least in my opinion.” chris teases, and your laugh gives him butterflies.
you glance over at your friends, who try to look busy as you all wait for the bus, though it’s very clear that they’re trying to eavesdrop. “i can’t disagree there, captain.”
he snorts before he can help it. “so does that mean you’re coming over?”
it seems like an eternity before you answer, even though it’s maybe five seconds total. “yeah, i’ll see you at home.”
when chris confronts the locker room once more he tries to part ways with everyone graciously, but they can see through him. he can’t get out of there quick enough, and yet everyone is just as excited to watch him leave.
none of them have ever seen him like this. he’s never seen himself like this, and despite being horrified of that in the past, there’s nothing holding him back anymore.
he tries not to get too antsy on the drive home, and you’re buzzing equally as much as you chat with your friends.
chris keeps working himself up even thinking about being close to you, about actually getting to belong to you. he’s missed having you in his hands, in the most innocent and sinful ways possible.
he beats you back by a few minutes, so he hangs around in the front yard like a dog, kicking at the dirt to try and distract himself.
by the time you come walking down the street, laughing along with cassidy and ramona, he feels like his heart is going haywire. your face coming into focus under the street light only makes it worse, because you look so damn perfect.
when you catch sight of him your expression transforms immediately; you’re somehow more visibly timid, but he can also tell that you’re dying to speak.
“‘sup chris?” cassidy nods, arms crossed over her chest as she turns with ramona toward their house.
“pleasure to see you ladies again.” he charms, giving a little two finger salute.
they both giggle and wave him off, whispering amongst themselves as they leave the two of you alone. its just like his first time ever laying eyes on you, because he’s equally as entranced as he was three years ago.
“hey.” he takes a couple steps forward, hands still in his pockets.
you can tell he’s actually a bit reserved, which surprises you. chris has always been good at reading you, at calling you out, and it’s hard to believe that he can’t pick up on the fact that you’re so far beyond gone.
“hi there.” you smile and get a little closer, and he almost falls to his knees.
a few more paces forward and you’d be face to face, so close that his nose would probably brush against yours. so he moves, one foot at a time, just to give you the opportunity to say no.
but you don’t, and you know that you never will, so you ask him the one question on your mind. “do you really want to talk?”
chris blushes for what seems like the millionth time, shaking his head slowly.
“what do you think?”
he’s towering over you a bit now, stopped only a couple inches away to keep some semblance of space. you don’t want it, and he doesn’t either, so you reel him flush against you by the waistband of his sweats.
“i think you should tell me you love me one more time.” you tease, drinking in the intoxicating smell of that goddamn dior.
chris leans in the rest of the way so his mouth is hovering over yours, even though it’s suffocating to do so. “i love you. i’ll say it as many times as ya like, princess.”
your stomach is flipping. you can’t help it anymore.
so you kiss him. you wrap your arm around his torso and you pull him as close as possible and you just fucking kiss him.
he’s already melting into you, hand tangling in your hair instinctively to tug. it’s sloppy, heated, everything you’ve been holding back for weeks. tasting your signature chapstick is enough to get him all bothered, to the point where it’s embarrassing.
it’s the start of something new, all while you’re standing in the same fucking driveway where this really began.
you pull away completely breathless, though you don’t wait to slip your hand into his. chris stumbles slightly over his feet as you pull him along, a little taken aback by the change in pace.
“what, can’t keep up?” you joke as you ascend the porch with him in tow.
he finds his balance quickly, though, hot on your heels now. his palm comes down to slap your ass playfully as you’re headed through the front door and you shriek out a laugh.
“i do just fine, thank you very much.”
he’s quick to reattach himself to you, so quick in fact that you’re barely able to close the door behind you.
it’s honestly hard to even get up to his room because of how much he’s all over you; kissing your neck from behind, running his hands over waist, dragging his fingers up and down every part of your body.
chris has missed you for too long to let any second go to waste. you’re giggling in between tiny little breaths of pleasure, attempting to hold them back some, but he wants to hear more.
you carelessly stagger into his room and he kicks the door shut behind him before breaking away. chris finally takes a moment to pause so that he can turn you around and admire you.
“you know what you do to me in that jersey, seeing you out there wearing my name.” chris growls, sliding his hands underneath the synthetic material to grip your warm skin.
you push your hips to him harder, smirking when you feel his hard-on press against your lower stomach. “mhmm, you gonna do anything about it before everyone gets back?”
his hands travel higher at this, skimming up the sides of your body as it bunches up around your chest. you get the message, so you lift your arms to help him take it off only for him to toss it to the floor a second later.
“fuck ‘em…i wanna take my time with you.” chris brushes your hair over your shoulder gently.
you try not to shiver. the anticipation is killing you as he cups the side of your neck, forcing you to retreat slowly until your legs meet his bed. his chest rises and falls heavily while he looks at you, familiarizing himself with every detail again.
you take the next step and sink down, laying your back against the mattress. your hair is like a halo around you, and chris shakes his head slightly.
his knee comes in between your legs to make room for himself, and you’re turned on just watching him devour you with his eyes.
“y’look like a fuckin’ angel.” he sighs, planting his arms by your shoulders so he can hover above you now.
you tilt your head, daring him to capture your lips again. “you gonna treat me like one?”
“long as you act like one.” he taunts back.
without a second thought you fasten your legs around his waist, pulling him right against your core so you can really feel. those tight little yoga pants don’t hide your warmth, and chris lets out an involuntary groan.
“fine, have it your way.”
he shifts his weight so he can wrap one hand around your throat, and the pressure is so enjoyable that you place your own palm over his to let him know it.
your other one travels to the back of his head, gripping his roots as his mouth connects with your neck harshly.
he’s leaving his mark again, not caring how childish it is to be putting hickies in this spot specifically. chris wants everyone to see them, to know that it’s real this time, and you’re his.
you selfishly don’t care either. neither of you have said the words yet, but you’re together, and it excites you that everyone will be able to look at the proof.
he lingers in every spot, working his way to your collarbone as he rocks against you. you’re a whining mess, his hard bulge rubbing against your center perfectly, and it only gets worse when the fingers around your neck move to squeeze your tits.
the fact that your bra is unlined makes it even more arousing, the lace brushing against your hardened nipple as he pinches one between his pointer and middle.
“missed you so much.” he grumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin while he drags his lips down further, sliding his body through your legs, “you were driving me insane.”
the kisses he presses against your stomach makes you tense slightly from the sheer amount of butterflies. chris gets closer and closer to the top of your pants, lowering his body far enough to kneel at the side of his bed.
he finally abandons his position briefly so he can look up at you through his lashes. you’ve never seen a prettier goddamn sight.
“tell me you need me, baby.” he challenges, and you’re dying to have him touching you again in any way.
“i need you, chris. so bad, please.” you beg, squirming slightly to try to get closer.
but he keeps you where you are, slowly pulling the silky material down your hips, mouth trailing along every part of you as he goes. you gasp at the sensation, only unhooking your ankles for a second to allow him to fully tug them off.
he doesn’t hesitate before he clutches the outside of both of your legs and tugs you toward his face, keeping them planted around his shoulders as his elbows dig into the mattress.
“that’s what i thought.” chris smirks, leaving more tantalizing kisses up the middle of your thighs.
your breath hitches the closer he gets, his stubble scraping your skin slightly as he ventures on. your fingers tangle in his roots when his lips finally trace along the seam of your panties, which are already humiliatingly damp.
one of his hands reaches further over your hips to shove them to the side, and feeling his fingers brush you even slightly makes you shudder just a bit.
“fucking do something.” you’re the one pleading now, though not as publicly.
chris’s laugh fans across your wetness, and goosebumps crawl their way up your skin.
“been waiting for those words.”
finally, he presses his lips against your core and you mutter a soft incoherent curse. his tongue slips out to glide across the delicate skin, for just long enough that your back arches off of the comforter.
he groans and you feel it vibrating right through you. chris has been craving you for so long, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be in this position again.
he’s already completely pussy-drunk, because his plan was to draw it out, really make you tick. but he can’t hold back; he got a taste and now he’s eating like it’s his last time, nose bumping your sensitive bud as he teases your entrance.
“shit—chris!” you cry out, gripping his hair harder in your knuckles.
he murmurs again in appreciation, because he’s always loved the feeling, and you quiver slightly from the sensation. it’s too much all at once and yet it’s never enough.
your legs instinctively tighten around his head as he works his tongue up and down fully, making sure he hits every tender spot over and over. it’s magic, however he does it.
you can feel the climax brewing in your stomach as your toes curl slightly, and chris notices your body beginning to shake more frequently.
it was gentle at first, but he’s since picked up the pace, forcing you to grind down on his face as he clutches your around his head. his fingers slide over a bit more, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves in consistent circles.
“oh fuck, gonna make me cum baby.” you barely manage to get it out between moans.
hearing you call him baby only spurs him on, his own erection begging to be freed as continues to work your cunt.
the combined pressure has you whimpering in satisfaction, head thrown back which you know is effectively messing up your hair. your eyes are screwed shut now, lips parted because you can’t seem to stop making noise.
“that’s it, sweetheart. you love my mouth so much, huh?” he pauses only for a second to goad, fingers still deliberately switching paces to draw out the ecstasy.
but then he buries his face again, flicking over your clit at the fastest speed of the night. it’s probably the most intense he’s ever been and you gasp, your breath catching in your throat before a loud whine escapes.
the stimulation is finally too much and you can’t hold back, muscles constricting as you reach your high.
chris doesn’t stop for the entire ride down, though his tongue does grow lazier as you finish for the first time of the night. he doesn’t want to let go of you, finally breaking his contact with your core only to press his wet lips against the inside of your thighs once again.
“jesus christ.” you pant, finally releasing his fluffy hair from your grip.
he chuckles slightly, peppering kisses across your legs until he’s content. “m’not done with you yet. strip.”
even though you’re still hazy from the first round, you’re surprisingly quick to follow direction. you arch your back more and unhook your frilly bra, chucking it somewhere behind you.
chris finally stands back up from his spot on the floor, and you make quick work pushing your underwear down your hips and kicking them off as he watches.
“look who’s finally listening.” he jokes with a grin.
you roll your eyes, and then a new impulse takes over; you want him to know who he belongs to now. so you sit up with him in between your legs, which surprises him enough that he’s still for a moment.
you take the opportunity to mess with the hem of his tee, slowly sliding your palms underneath and up his stomach.
“i showed you mine.” you hint, ghosting your lips over his now-exposed torso.
this time chris is the one obeying, pulling his shirt the rest of the way for you. his dick is right up against your chest, clearly straining through his sweats at this point.
you let your hands wander back down his body, nails skimming along his happy trail until you reach the top of his pants. he’s quick, yanking them down with his boxers and shoving both further away on his floor.
“really wanna ride you.” you whisper, palming him just enough.
he groans at the gentleness of your touch; he’s extra sensitive now that he’s completely exposed. precum is already leaking from his tip, so you swipe your thumb across it and his hips buck a bit in response.
you slide the slick across his shaft, pumping slowly because it’s your turn to provoke him.
“i’d literally do anything you asked.” chris can hear how weak his voice is as he caresses your hair, and he’s genuinely concerned that his eyes have permanently become hearts.
you look up at him, craning slightly to rest your cheek in his palm, and he swears he could cum right then until you pull your hand away.
“lay down.” your voice is low, sultry, and he’s hypnotized.
all he can do is move on your command, shifting past you to sprawl out across his bed, erection slapping against his waist. he barely has time to settle on his pillows before you’re crawling his direction, tossing a leg over his lap so that you can straddle him.
chris hisses out a prayer, hands going to your hips as your wetness comes in contact with his. you’re hovering, enticing him even more as you lightly slide against his base.
“quit—aahhh—teasing me.” he hums, grinding his own erection up against you harder to try and help himself out.
“can’t handle it?” you smirk, even though the truth is that neither of you can bear the torment of taking it slow.
“you’re a lot to handle.”
you know he’s messing around, but your palms press against his shoulders nonetheless so you can lift yourself a bit higher, which makes him whine in protest at the loss of contact.
you shake your head slightly, a patronizing grin finding finding its way to your face. “better get used to it, pretty boy.”
then one hand wraps around his pulsating cock, pressing his swollen head against your lips before you sink down onto it in its entirety. chris whimpers out a muddled sentence, and tight swears fumble out of your own throat as he stretches you out.
chris is overwhelmed by the rush of having you wrapped around him. you haven’t even started moving; you’re just letting him take it in, the same way that you are as he floods your senses.
“so goddamn perfect for me, fill me up so good.” you praise, finally starting to rock your hips at a grating speed.
the compliment gets to his head, and he didn’t think it was possible for you to turn him on more than you already do. he’s rutting into you seconds later, matching your pace instinctively just like you knew he would. you’ve never been bare with him like this, and you lean into the thrill as much as possible.
the passionate tempo helps ease you into his size, though you’ll admit you’ve missed the delicious sensation of having to break yourself in.
chris chokes on his breath, his fingers digging into your sides hard enough now to leave a bruise. “holy shit.”
his words spur you on and you start to really bounce, skin slapping skin as you both try to contain the sounds of pure bliss falling past your lips.
you spread your legs even wider, which allows you to feel every bulging inch of him pounding into you. your nails rake down his abdomen, leaving little lines of red in their wake.
he can’t get enough of the way you fold around him, and it finally crosses his mind that there’s nothing protecting you.
“condom.” chris grits through his teeth, not slowing his momentum despite what he just said.
“buy me a plan b after, need you raw.” you reply quickly, voice pinched as your chest heaves.
you’ve never been careless like this, and it definitely won’t happen again. but right now, having nothing standing between the two of you is all you’re craving. he’s relishing it, truly being skin to skin.
his hands travel to clutch the curve of your ass, helping slam you down so he can hit the right spot, and even now it’s still not close enough. he adores you too much; it’ll never be enough, because he’s always going to want more.
he’s gasping at this point, trying to keep his eyes open just so he can watch you in all your glory. it’s dim in his room and you’re perfectly backlit, tits bouncing as your hair flits around your face.
you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
every stroke feels better than the last, and your stomach flips each time he drives himself into that sensitive area. you’re clenching hard now, tugging on his cock rhythmically to the point where he’s twitching inside.
“oh-h my god, fuckin love you. my pretty girl.” chris groans, addicted to the excitement of saying it out loud.
that familiar fire burns in your gut, somehow more fierce than the first. you’re tensing again, trying not to get too careless with your pace as your whimpers grow in intensity.
“m’close—i can’t…” you stutter, brain jumbled with incoherent thoughts.
he props his own legs up slightly, using the last bit of his strength to buck into you. he draws out every last second, because he’d live right here forever if he could.
“give it to me, princess, don’t hold back.” chris prompts breathlessly, his vision blurring as his climax rapidly approaches.
your hips connect sloppily a few more times and it crashes over the both of you at once. the room echos with pants and moans of gratification, a thin layer of sweat painting your skin as you come down from your second orgasm of the night.
you feel him release too, painting your walls in a divine warmth that you’re not used to. you’re so strung out that even the tiniest bits of friction you’re still receiving have you gnawing on the inside of your cheek to control yourself.
finally both of your movements slow to a stop, letting the moment settle for a moment as you catch your breath.
you’re closer that you were before, practically chest to chest with him aside from your hands, so you tilt your forehead to his and give him a gentle peck.
“i’m obsessed.” he mumbles against your mouth before you pull away.
you smile, slowly shifting off of him so you can force yourself into the crook of his arm instead. “you’re just figuring that out now?”
“i always knew, trust me.” chris banters, wrapping his bicep around you to pull you tighter against his side.
you sigh as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “so this is real? we’re actually together?”
“if you’ll have me, but i’m yours either way.”
he’s so open, so quick to admit how he actually feels, and it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.
“good, because i’m kind of in love with you and i’ve never been a sharer.”
he chuckles at this, and it already feels so natural. everything has fallen into place, and you're just glad you’re not wasting any more time not experiencing this.
“but you’re not fully forgiven until you buy me that plan b, seriously.” you poke his side playfully and this time you both laugh.
“i think i can make that happen.” chris responds sarcastically, unable to fight the permanent smile that seems to be taking over his features.
every part of him is so content, and it’s the most alive he’s ever been. you bring him to life.
he’s not sure he’ll ever understand how he got lucky enough to fight his way back into your world, but he’ll never take it for granted.
it’s always been you, the bewitching girl next door.
@fawnchives @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @x0x0bunny @amelia-sturniolo3 @pvssychicken
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hey batter, batter
MDNI 18+
synopsis: ellie and abby have been rivals for years, playing for their university’s softball team. one day you, their coach’s daughter, show up at their game and ruin everything.
content: ellabs x reader, reader isn’t specified to be fem or masc, reader is described as a “girl”, afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!abby, switch!ellie, cunnilingus(e! and r! receiving), fingering(everyone receiving), strap-on(r!receiving)
word count: 3.7k
notes: based on this, thank u to @andisalias for giving me the idea to do softball, i think it worked really well! disclaimer: i know NOTHING about sports and just did a lot of research for this fic, so if anything is inaccurate about softball, i’m so sorry lmao
ellie sits on a bench in the dugout, picking at her dirty fingernails as she watches abby go up to bat.
“i hate the fucking batting order, i swear to god that jared has a vendetta against me,” ellie tells dina, who’s up to bat after ellie.
jared, the coach for their university’s softball team, is standing off to the side of the field, watching each move anyone makes on the field like a hawk.
dina snorts, nodding towards abby; “i think he has a vendetta against you fucking with his star first baseman before she goes up to bat.”
ellie scoffs, “that bitch deserves it.”
dina laughs a little, “right.”
ellie shoots a glare towards dina and goes back to burning holes into the muscular blonde’s back with her intense staring as abby holds the bat up, ready to swing.
if ellie was honest with herself, she did find abby just a little bit attractive, but any attraction ellie felt was monumentally overpowered by her intense hatred and jealousy for the blonde. abby was an upperclassman and naturally excelled in softball, always managing to make ellie feel small just by walking past her, which ellie despised. luckily, she knew that abby was just as bothered by ellie in return.
the pitcher throws the softball and abby strikes out on all 3 throws. ellie’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.
“oh shit.” dina remarks, “i can’t remember the last time i saw ellie strike out.”
ellie rolls her eyes, “she’s not that great, dude. she fucks up all the time.”
dina doesn’t reply, not wanting to amp up her teammate.
abby comes back to the dugout, simmering with embarrassment and rage. ellie stands up and bumps abby’s shoulder with her own as ellie goes to bat.
“nice going,” ellie sneers, her voice barely audible, but abby picks it up, her fists clenching at her sides as she takes a seat on the bench.
abby turns to look at the girl who distracted her in the stands, and it’s you, chewing a fat wad of Big League Chew. her cheeks grow warm at the thought of fucking up so badly in front of you.
‘knock it off, abs, you don’t even know her,’ abby’s brain supplies, and she tries to listen, turning back to watch ellie bat.
as ellie goes up to the plate, getting into position, she looks through the netting behind her to look at the crowd, looking to see if joel ended up making it to this game after work. she almost immediately finds joel, sitting at the front of the bleachers with a bag of sunflower seeds. ellie’s about to give him at least a nod, but is quickly distracted when she sees you sitting next to joel.
‘what the fuck? who the fuck is that?’ ellie thinks to herself, her cheeks reddening as she gets into position to bat.
she turns away for a second to catch another glimpse of you, but as she does, she feels the softball sail past her into the catcher’s mitt.
“strike one!”
ellie’s wholes face feels hot and she kicks herself internally for getting so distarcted that she didn’t even swing in front of one of the most attractive people she’s ever seen. she shakes out her head a little, and she hears joel clapping, offering some cheers of support for ellie, but it just makes her feel more humiliated.
ellie adjusts her position, avoiding eye contact with her coach as he silently fumes over his star players completely fucking up and out of their element.
when the pitcher pitches the ball again, ellie swings and misses. at this point, she can feel her rage physically in her stomach, burning. she wilts inside slightly as she thinks about you seeing her play the worst she’s played since high school.
on her last pitch, ellie swings too early and strikes out. ellie feels sick as she walks back to the dugout, tossing her bat on the ground with more force than she should use.
dina walks past ellie silently to go up to bat, knowing that saying anything to ellie about this right now would probably be a mistake.
ellie sits down on the bench, grinding her teeth as she makes a little hole in the dirt ground with her shoe.
abby leans over towards ellie, now smirking, “hmmm… karma’s a bitch, huh?”
ellie jaw thrusts forward, not replying or looking at abby in fear that she’ll lose all control and lunge at the bigger girl, which she knows their coach would probably kick ellie off the team for.
in the next inning, abby takes her position at first base as ellie takes center field. abby looks up at you, chewing her lip slightly as she does. she tries to push down the wild butterflies she has, cursing herself for how distracted she’s been getting by your mere presence and not wanting to fuck this up anymore.
abby looks back at her teammates, and catches ellie staring intently at the crowd. abby follows ellie’s line of sight back to you and she clenches her jaw.
as the game continues, abby and ellie both drag the team down significantly, the two most competitive and cutthroat girls now distracted and aloof, dropping balls and staring at you despite their efforts not to.
eventually, the game ends and the visiting team wins by a landslide. abby feels sick about being partly responsible for their first loss of the season. both girls walk with the team dejectedly as they file inside to the locker room, following their coach.
when they’re all in the locker room, jared lays in to them, specifically abby and ellie.
“abby. ellie. what the fuck was that? i’ve never seen either of you play like that. are you two fucking high?” jared reprimands angrily.
ellie’s face hardens, and she has to use every ounce of self control not to do something she’ll regret. abby, on the other hand, takes the criticism in, fully ashamed of how she played today.
“i’m sorry, coach… I was just off today, but it won’t happen again,” abby says, her head low.
ellie is so close to making fun of abby for kissing their coach’s ass, but before she does, you walk into the dressing room cautiously, sitting on a chair in the corner. ellie stares at you, confused, but her heart racing form just your presence.
jared shakes his head, “i just don’t get it, you’re both firecrackers normally, but today, it felt like you two weren’t even in the game.”
abby is stunned too, unable to come up with a response as she stares at you. you shift a little in your chair awkwardly as both women stare you down.
jared shakes his head again, “this better not happen ever again, got it? or else you’re off the team. you can’t pull this shit and off scott-free.”
abby and ellie both quickly snap their attention back to jared, knowing that both of their scholarships are from softball, and if they get kicked off, they’re fucked.
jared rubs his temples, “alright… i’m done for today. go home, and i’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”
the team starts packing up their stuff, a few of them heading to the showers. ellie and abby watch as their coach approaches you.
jared gives you a hug, “hey, sorry that you had to hear that.”
you shake your head, clearly a little uncomfortable about watching jared reprimand the team. “it’s fine, dad, don’t worry.”
dad? ellie and abby’s jaws comically dropping at the same time.
as you and jared talk, ellie and abby tear themselves away to head to the showers, both of them irritated that the other is present.
‘jared’s fucking daughter??? there’s no way that dick made someone so beautiful,’ ellie sulks to herself, stripping her clothes.
both girls quickly shower and by the time they’re done and grabbing their bags, they’re the only two left in the locker room.
abby is determined not to say a word to ellie, but ellie has other plans.
“so, you have the hots for coach’s daughter then?” ellie asks as she stuffs her sweaty uniform into her bag, her hair wet and hanging in her face.
abby’s loose, wet hair dampens the back of her t-shirt as she glares at ellie, “please, don’t act like you weren’t drooling over her the whole game.”
ellie laughs a little, “well… yeah. i have eyes, dumbass.”
abby bristles, “so, you’re gonna ask her out or something?”
ellie shrugs, “and what if i did? afraid she might like me more, anderson?”
abby scoffs, “i’m more afraid of you harassing her.”
ellie glares at abby, taking a step towards her, “literally, fuck you.”
abby steps closer too, using her size advantage against ellie to try and intimidate her, “funny, it seems you ‘literally’ want to fuck her.”
“ummm…” they hear a small voice from the doorway of the locker room.
abby and ellie’s heads whip around and they see you standing there awkwardly.
“i, uh… my dad thinks he left his baseball cap in here and asked if i could find it before i head back to my dorm,” you over-explain, rambling a bit.
ellie’s eyes light up a little, ‘jackpot.’
“don’t worry, i’ll help you look around for it,” ellie immediately answers, going up to you, “i’m ellie, by the way.”
your cheeks are hot as you shake ellie’s hand, and abby realizes that ellie might be stealing her opportunity, and she walks up to you as well.
“hey, i’m abby.” she says, shaking your hand as well, her large hands engulfing yours, “and don’t stress, i know what his cap looks like, it must be around here somewhere.”
abby and ellie give each other murderous looks as they search the locker room for coach’s ball cap.
you look around as well, your brain racing as you contemplate what you overheard them saying before they saw you.
abby finds the ball cap on the counter and raises it up in victory, “found it!”
ellie takes a breath, trying not to get unnecessarily upset over something as trivial as this.
you grin, approaching abby, “oh thank god. i’m terrible at finding shit, i *really* appreciate you both helping me.”
“of course,” abby and ellie both respond at the same time, side eyeing each other slightly.
you stand in front of the two as an awkward silence settles over everyone.
you decide to be bold, for once in your life, and break the silence, “so, i, ummm… i overheard you two before walked in.”
abby’s eyes get big and ellie’s freckled face goes red.
“oh shit, i’m really so sorry,” abby says, running her hand through her loose hair anxiously as ellie stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
you smile a little, “no, it’s okay. really.”
you step forward, closer to them, and the girl’s tense up.
“it is a shame that you can’t share me though,” you boldly suggest, surprised by your own confidence, but you knew that they wanted you. they certainly weren’t discreet during the game.
‘holy shit.’
abby’s jaw drops slightly and ellie pauses before slowly saying, “share?”
you take a step closer, looking back and forth between them, “yeah. share.”
abby turns to ellie, and in that moment, maybe for the first time, they’re on the same page.
“i wouldn’t mind sharing you,” abby responds, her voice soft and low.
ellie nods, taking a step closer to you, “i’m good with sharing too,” she quickly supplies.
a slow smile spreads over you face, your eyes sparkling as you press yourself against ellie.
“well then… feel like sharing me right now?”
abby laughs a little to herself at the lunacy of this situation, but she can’t say that she’s not already wet just from this conversation alone, so abby nods.
“fuck yeah i do,” ellie says enthusiastically before kissing you.
abby watches as ellie kisses you, and the fire in her stomach is a mix of lust and envy.
ellie’s hands are gripping your hips as she presses you more into her. you run your tongue over her bottom lip and she moans, letting you into her mouth.
you feel a warm pressure against your back and you realize that it’s abby.
“my turn, williams,” abby says, her hands gliding over your waist.
you break the kiss with ellie, and her pupils are dilated, her lips plump and wet with spit. “fuck.”
abby spins you around towards her and doesn’t waste any time before kissing you, her arms wrapping around you.
you feel ellie’s hands roaming as you and abby kiss, and feel ellie’s pelvis pressing against your ass. it takes you a moment for you to realize that she’s grinding herself against it, and the idea makes your underwear more soaked than it already was. abby nips at your bottom lip and you moan into her mouth.
ellie’s hands come down to palm and squeeze your ass.
“you’re fucking perfect,” ellie murmurs, still humping your ass like a bitch in heat.
you pull back from abby to take off your shirt, leaving you in your jeans and bra.
abby starts kissing your neck and chest as ellie unclasps your bra, helping you take it off. as soon as it’s off, ellie’s hands reach around you to squeeze your breasts.
“jesus christ…” ellie whispers, rolling your nipples between her thumb and index finger as you moan softly.
abby breath is coming heavier as she manhandles you to sit on one of the benches in the locker room. you don’t resist at all, completely ready for whatever comes next.
abby motions to ellie as she kneels between your legs, “come on, there’s one for each of us,” as she latches onto your nipple, sucking and squeezing one of your breasts.
ellie quickly goes beside abby, your legs spread as wide as they can with the two girls between them. ellie licks over your other nipple and blows on it, getting it hard.
“so fucking cute-“ ellie says before suckling your breast as well, her eyes closed as she moans in the back of her throat.
you look down, and your clit is pulsing against the seam of your jeans as you watch both girls latched onto your breast.
ellie pulls back, watching abby suck on your breast with flushed cheeks. abby notices that ellie is watching her and she pulls back to see what’s up. as soon as she does, ellie pulls her into a heated kiss.
you’re mesmerized as the two girls kiss each other aggressively, ellie’s hands coming up to tug on abby’s hair. abby moans as she gropes ellie’s small chest through her shirt. when they detach, ellie stands up, her eyes sparkling.
“i have an idea,” ellie says as she goes over to her backpack, rummaging around through it until she pulls out a satin, black bag. she opens it and pulls out a purple strap-on.
abby laughs a little, “williams, why the fuck do you casually have a strap in your backpack? do you bring that to every game or something?”
ellie’s face goes red, “fuck you. i like to be prepared, it’s not my fault you don’t have bitches. besides, are you complaining?”
abby snorts, “no, i guess i’m not.”
ellie takes off her shirt and pants, leaving her sports bra on as she puts on the strap. “anderson, lie down on the ground.”
too everyone’s surprise, abby follows ellie’s order.
“good girl.” ellie motions to you, “and you, take off your jeans and sit on her face, okay?”
you nod quickly, stripping completely naked before crawling onto abby. you look into your eyes, “you okay with this?”
abby nods eagerly, “very okay.”
you grin and situate yourself over her face, and you don’t have any warning before abby’s strong arms wrap around your thighs and pull you down so you’re fully sitting on her face.
you moan involuntarily as abby’s tongue laps over your wet cunt, completely vulgar noises coming from her mouth with a muffled, “you taste fucking incredible-“
ellie watches as abby pleasures you, and she rubs the base of the strap against her clit as she admires the two of you.
abby starts sucking on your clit and you moan loud, your eyes rolling back into your head. ellie approaches you two, watching abby eat you out.
ellie kneels down behind you, pressing her chest to your bare back, “wanna try and take me, baby?”
you nod eagerly, “please.”
ellie doesn’t need anyone confirmation before slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them as abby suckles your clit. you moan loudly, your breaths heavy.
“so fuckin’ tight… you’re gonna feel fucking incredible on my cock, baby, i promise-“ ellie says as she takes out her fingers, sucking them clean, “fuck, abby wasn’t lying, you taste good.”
ellie positions her strap, rubbing the tip over your folds to tease you a little. you whimper, and that’s about all ellie can take before slipping the strap into you. you’re now on your hands and knees, with abby below you still at work on your clit, and ellie behind you as she starts thrusting into you.
“that pretty pussy is so fucking desperate for us, huh?” ellie says, her core tight as she grips your hips.
you moan at that, nodding, intense pleasure coursing through your body.
ellie laughs a little, thrusting harder, “do you have any fucking idea what you did to us out there, pretty girl? fucking distracting us- so fucking sexy-“ ellie pants, her eyes rolling back as she gets the friction she needs on her clit.
your orgasm is rapidly approaching, your body overwhelmed with stimulation. “i-i’m gonna-“
you nearly scream as you climax, your legs shaking with pleasure as you writhe around. ellie watches with a big grin on her face, fucking you as hard and as fast as she can through it.
when you come down, abby lifts you off her face with ease, “my turn.”
ellie takes off the strap and passes it to ellie, “oh, think you can fuck her better?”
abby huffs a laugh, “i know i can, williams.”
abby puts on the strap and strips off her clothes, keeping you in doggy as ellie come’s around in front of your face. ellie takes off her sports bra and boxers, sitting in front of your and spreading her legs, exposing strings of her arousal between her thighs, her auburn bush soaked in pre-cum.
you waste no time before diving in, your tongue lapping up her juices. ellie grunts and her hands fly to your head, keeping you in place, “jesus fucking christ-“
abby takes this moment to lick your cunt up from behind, tasting your cum from your previous orgasm before lining the strap up with your entrance and thrusting in deep without warning.
you moan into ellie’s pussy, and thrust your tongue down her entrance before replacing it with two fingers. ellie moans again, her eyes squeezing shut.
ellie fucked you relentlessly and hard, making you see stars, but abby fucks you like she’s trying to savor every moment, her eyes locked on your pussy as it stretches around the strap.
“you were made to take this dick, oh my god,” abby moans, thrusting deep and slow.
ellie starts whimpering as you suck on her clit, thrusting your fingers hard into her.
abby laughs a little at ellie’s reaction, never having seen ellie so docile.
“awww, you just needed to get your shitty attitude fucked out of you, huh, williams?”
ellie can barely respond, her head tilted back as you pleasure her, her stomach muscles trembling.
abby starts fucking you a little faster, wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.
“can you give me one, princess? i don’t wanna be left out…” abby says, her chest pressed against your back as she fucks you.
every time you moan against ellie’s clit, still sucking it, and it sends delicious vibrations through it, amplifying ellie’s pleasure and making her tip over the edge, crying out as she climaxes.
you work ellie through her climax, despite your 2nd impending climax building in your lower belly.
as soon as she’s done, ellie stands up and moves behind abby, running her hands all over abby’s body.
abby moans as ellie plays with her nipple, her other hand coming down to squeeze abby’s ass before slipping a finger into abby’s cunt as abby fucks you.
abby moans unexpectedly, “fucking christ- more, elllie-“
ellie grins and slips in another finger, pumping her fingers in time with abby’s thrusts, curling them up each time ellie’s fingers bottom out.
abby’s pants come quicker, rubbing your clit faster. just as you’re sent into your next orgasm, abby cries out, fucking herself into you as she cums on ellie’s fingers.
when you both come down, abby slowly slips out of you, sitting on the cold locker room floor and leaning against ellie as abby pulls you into her lap.
“feeling okay?” abby asks as ellie brushes your hair out of your sweaty face.
you laugh weakly, still panting, “much better than okay.”
both girls giggle a little at that, and ellie asks with a cocky smirk, “so… who fucked you better?”
abby elbows ellie and ellie rolls her eyes, rubbing her arm.
you smirk a little and say, “hmmm… it was hard to tell. maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime to repeat the study, y’know?”
abby grins as ellie laughs, squeezing your thigh.
“well, in that case, we have to. in the name of accurate results. science, even.” ellie says as she settles in to abby’s side.
abby laughs this time, one arm wrapping around ellie’s bare shoulders, “damn, i guess we do.”
#rose writes#ellie williams#tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x reader#tlou#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou#abby x reader#ellabs x reader#ellabs#abby anderson
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can you write a fic where emily is on her period, annoyed at work, irritated, and really needy but is lowkey embarrassed to ask reader for relief? reader basically then calls her silly and tells em she loves her always and then helps her? and heavy smut takes place
(reader also works at the bau)
thank u!! - and no problem at all if u don’t feel like writing this <3
I got u, anon! ❤️ Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks
Touchy
Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, graphic sex, fingering, afab body parts, menstruation, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.7k
Summary: You and Unit Chief Emily have had a secret thing going on for a while, but when she starts lashing out at you and the rest of the team, you suspect something's wrong. Turns out, it's something you are very capable of fixing. 😏
Emily sat hunched over a book that she clearly wasn’t reading, massaging her temples. She’d been touchy this whole trip. Touchy with the rest of the team, with local law enforcement. Thank god JJ was in charge of dealing with the press, or she would have been touchy with them, too. And now she was touchy on the jet.
Usually on the last night of a case, when the end was in sight or when you were headed home in the morning, or even on a night where she was frustrated that they hadn’t made progress, Emily would come to your room. She’d knock softly, in the dead of the night, slip into your room, into your bed, into your very body. And she’d be gone before your alarm went off in the morning.
You’d waited and waited last night for Emily to come to you, watching the minutes go by, then hours. You knew you hadn’t made any plans, nothing concrete. There was never anything concrete when the BAU was out on a case. But, nevertheless, you missed her. You missed the warmth of her body next to you, the way you’d talk and laugh about nothing while she sat in bed, naked, and smoked a cigarette after she’d thoroughly fucked your brains out. You missed the way she’d vent to you about the case or tell you something personal, something she wouldn’t tell anyone else, as you fell asleep together, tangled in some random hotel’s sheets.
You’d been seeing each other for months now and, outside of work, had some semblance of a typical relationship. But at work, you were just an agent and her unit chief. Friendly colleagues, at most. You and Emily were always careful to appear impartial. And you were profilers, so you were pretty good at avoiding tells that your relationship was more than it seemed on the outside. But you were worried about her today. She was angry and irritated and… not herself. You were trying to figure out a way to ask her what was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out how to move seats to be near her without arousing suspicion. Not to mention the fact that Emily would never tell another member of the team that something personal was going on. So she couldn’t tell you. Not here, not on the jet.
You tried not to look too interested when Reid sat down across from Emily, playing with the string on his sachet of green tea. “Are you okay, Emily?”
She made a noncommittal sound of affirmation, then muttered. “Just a headache.”
“You know,” he started, and you could just tell he was prepped for an educational monologue. “Headaches are simultaneously one of the easiest and one of the hardest medical maladies to solve, depending on their cause. There are over 50 reasons why one might have a headache, usually categorized into two overarching categories: primary and second–”
“Reid,” Emily snapped. “I am begging you to shut up unless you want to become one of the 50 causes of a headache.”
Reid shrank into himself, and you immediately felt sorry for him. Sure, he could come off as a know-it-all or annoying, but he was goodhearted and kind and smart and cared about the team. It wasn’t like Emily to belittle him.
When you’d all debarked from the plane and made your way to the parking lot, you waited for the other cars to peel out before approaching Emily’s. You tapped on her window and she rolled it down for you.
“What?” she growled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, voice full of concern. “You seem off.”
“I’m fine,” she stated. “God, I wish people would just fucking leave me alone today. And stop asking all these questions.”
You were taken aback, hurt. You weren’t “people.” You were, for all intents and purposes, her girlfriend, everywhere but at work.
“Well, um…” you stuttered, unsure how to proceed or respond. “Do you still want to come over tonight?” She almost always did the night after getting back from a case.
“Y/N,” she groaned, massaging her forehead. “No offense, babe, but what part of ‘I wish people would fucking leave me alone’ did you not get?”
You felt like crying, but you’d be damned if you were going to let Emily see it. “Whatever, Em.” You shook your head. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
You watched Emily zoom out of the parking lot and, once she was gone, you let yourself cry. At least it wasn’t just you she was upset with; clearly she had it out for everyone right now. But still… Emily was usually different with you. She was softer around the edges, kind and thoughtful, a little bit silly. This wasn’t like her at all.
The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. How fucking dare she blow you off like you were no one!? She’d been rude and dismissive and snappy and weird with everyone this whole trip and, dammit, she was not going to get away with being like that to you, too. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with the rest of you that had pissed her off. Either way, you were determined to figure it out. So when you sped out of the parking lot, teary and determined, you headed not to your apartment, but to Emily’s.
You knocked angrily on Emily’s door until she threw it open, looking as pissed as you’d ever seen her. “Y/N,” she said, frustration evident. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”
“Yeah, well,” you said, pushing past her and into the apartment. “Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”
You poured yourself a glass from the open bottle of wine she had on the counter and took a sip. Emily stood across from you, still massaging her temples and looking generally annoyed.
“What, Y/N?” she groaned. “What do you want?”
You set your glass down so aggressively the wine sloshed a bit. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emily!?” you railed. “You’re being so mean and so… not yourself. Is something going on!?”
She sighed heavily and lowered herself into a chair and, for a moment, you thought she might cry. You surged toward her and tucked her hair behind her ear, holding her face, softly, delicately, in case, as she had all day, she decided to pull away again.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” you said softly, your thumbs lightly tracing the circles under her eyes.
Emily leaned into your touch and you knew she was finally there, finally at a point where she’d stop fighting and let you in.
“I’ve got fucking fibroids…” she mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “And I’m on my period and… they’re always bad, but they just make it so much worse.”
“Em,” you sighed, letting her rest her head on your chest. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
“It’s embarrassing…”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Periods aren’t embarrassing, honey. They’re just a part of life. A shitty part.”
When she didn’t answer and kept her head buried in your chest, you started playing with her hair. “What do you need, huh? What’ll make you feel better? Do you have pain meds? You want to take a bath? Lie down for a bit?”
Emily pulled back and looked away, shrinking into herself.
“Hey, don’t start that again,” you scolded, taking her hand.
“Babe, just tell me. What do you need, hmm?”
She mumbled something under her breath, so quiet that you couldn’t catch it.
“What?”
“I need you to touch me,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “But that’s not fair of me to ask.”
You smiled, relieved. This is what Emily had been so frustrated about!? You chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her head, her cheek, then sunk your lips into hers. You felt elated by the way she grasped your shirt, the way she pulled into you.
When you broke apart, she was breathless, her pupils blown, but she still looked so deeply embarrassed, almost ashamed.
“Come on,” you said gently, leading her by the hand toward the bathroom. “And to think this whole time you were just really fucking horny.”
You turned on the shower, made sure it was the right temperature, and started stripping your clothes off.
“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Emily asked, leaning against the bathroom counter.
You stared at her. “What do you mean what am I doing?”
She gestured at your now nude body, as you folded your clothes into a messy pile.
“I’m getting in the shower,” you explained. “And you’re getting in the shower, and then I’m gonna make you come.”
If possible, Emily’s face reddened even more. “Uh… no,” she protested. “No, no. Did you miss the part where I said I was on my period?”
You gestured toward the steaming shower. “Did you miss the part where we’re in the shower so it doesn’t matter?”
“It does matter,” she argued. “I don’t– I’ve never… It’ll be messy, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to–”
You stared at her, mouth slightly agape. “You’ve never had sex on your period?”
She looked at the ground. “I… I mean, I guess I’ve never been with someone who… wanted to.”
Your heart broke then, just for a moment. For sweet, needy, embarrassed Emily, hugging herself in the corner of the bathroom.
“Well,” you said, approaching her and slipping your hands under her shirt. She gasped as you bent to suck on her neck. “That’s their loss.” You lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, quickly taking one of her nipples in your mouth. She moaned and sank her fingers into your hair. “I can assure you that I…” And you planted a kiss on her chest. “Very much…” You gently unzipped her pants and placed a kiss there, just below her stomach. “Want to.”
Emily pulled you back up and kissed you hungrily, desperately, as she kicked off the rest of her clothes, pushing you into the shower so she could discreetly remove her tampon. You pressed her up against the cool tile, letting the warm water rush over you both. It’s not that you were normally rough with Emily or vice versa, but you were careful to be particularly gentle with her tonight, knowing that her body was sensitive and in pain.
You kissed Emily slowly, deeply, making your way down her neck, across her chest, tracing slow, indulgent circles around her nipples as she let her head rest back against the tile. You could feel her heart beating underneath your tongue and it drove you wild.
When you crouched to move lower, holding yourself steady against her thighs, she pulled you back up, eyes pleading with you. “Just your hands. Please.”
You brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. “Are you sure?” You smirked. “I really don’t mind getting messy.”
“I know,” she replied, still breathing heavily as your thumbs drew circles against her hips. “But I mind.”
“Whatever you want, honey,” you breathed into her ear as you ran your fingers through her warm folds.
Emily shuddered and pressed her head into your shoulder, bucking involuntarily into your hand. You let your thumb idle around her clit, slow and rhythmic and gentle, until you had her panting and whining against you.
“More,” she begged, and you happily obliged, softly pressing two fingers into her pulsing entrance. You picked up speed as she pressed into you, her breath high and hitched, with small noises of effort and pleasure echoing around the shower.
“Wait, stop,” she gasped, even as she thrust into you. You stilled your movements, and waited for her to tell you what she wanted. “I feel like I might collapse,” she gasped.
“In a good way or a bad way?” you asked, both of you giggling.
“A good way, but…”
“Here,” you said, moving her arms so they were wrapped around your neck and inching forward so that your thigh was between her legs. You wrapped your free hand around her waist and planted a kiss on her neck. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m not gonna let you fall. Just let go, baby.”
Emily didn’t need any more encouragement, riding your fingers as if her very life depended on it. And when she finally reached her peak, when she finally let herself fall apart, nothing in the world could have made you let go of her. You held her up as she shook, her walls pulsing around your fingers, her mouth wide and warm against your shoulder.
“There you go,” you whispered, bringing her back down and planting fluttery kisses wherever you could reach as you held her steady. She shook against you, holding onto you, and when she finally found her way back to her feet, you kissed her again and again, all over.
“Feel better?” you asked her, cupping her face in your hands. She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace and, for a while, you just held her there, hot water pouring over you, heartbeats dwindling back to a normal rate.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice vibrating against your skin. She stood and looked at you apologetically. “Sorry I was such a bitch.”
You shook your head and kissed her again. “It’s okay. Everyone’s a bitch on their period.”
Your heart was in your throat as Emily let you wash her, let you lather shampoo into her hair and rub soap gently across her body, making sure she was clean and cared for. She was so soft under your touch, so soft and pliable, such a contrast to how she was at work with everyone else. She always acted so tough. And she was tough, but she could also be so soft. You loved that she was soft for you.
You dried her off, you kissed her shoulder, you told her to go ahead and get in bed, that’d you’d be right there. And when you returned and found her in bed with wet hair in an oversized t-shirt, you were struck by the realization that you never really wanted to go to bed with anyone else. That what you’d really like is to be in bed with Emily every night. Not just random nights on the road. Not just after the dates you spent at places you chose because it didn’t seem like any other member of your team would be there. You loved her. You were falling in love with her.
You handed her the glass of water you’d prepared in the kitchen, and thought about how not to accidentally tell her you loved her. She sipped gingerly at the edge of the bed and looked deeply at you.
“What?” you asked, shrinking under her gaze.
“Do you want to stay here?” she asked.
“Duh,” you replied, already climbing into bed next to her. “I always spend the night after. And we don’t have work tomorrow.”
“No, I mean…” She picked at her fingernails, avoiding your eyes. “Do you want to stay here… for good. Like, would you want to move in?”
You felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. “Are you serious?” you asked, gaping at her.
Emily shook her head. “Forget it. Sorry. It was a stupid question.”
“No, no!” You grabbed her hand and held it between both of hers. “I just… I didn’t know what this was for you. If you wanted to… keep it casual, I guess.”
She sighed and looked into your eyes and you knew then, you knew that whenever it slipped out, whenever you were ready to say it, she would say it back. “I haven’t been casual about you for a while now, Y/N.”
And you kissed her. You kissed her again and again, kissed her until she was giggling and squirming, until you had her wrapped in your arms under the covers.
And when she reached to turn the light out, when she curled into your body, you let your words venture out in the darkness, soft and quiet, almost imperceptible: “I love you.”
And like a light, her voice, vibrating against your skin as she fell asleep in your arms: “I love you, too.”
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic
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speculation - aaron hotchner x reader
aaron confides in you his suspicions haley is cheating on him.
cw: bau!reader, takes place in s3 timeline - before the divorce, angst, mentions of adultery and unfaithfulness, aaron's sad but not really showing it (naturally), light foreshadowing that someday aaron and reader get together <3 wc; 1.2k
aaron's hands gripped the steering wheel and his stare was pointed forward, the atmosphere heavy in the car. grey clouds had been rolling in all morning, and now the rain was just beginning to fall, a light sprinkle pattering on the windshield.
the two of you had just frequented a crime scene, departing after a rather tense situation - one of the investigators had nearly disrupted the crime scene in a lazy wake, and aaron had thoroughly allowed him to know his mistake.
while aaron was always stern, it was... different this time.
"hotch?"
at his name, you managed to pull him from of his thoughts - you could tell by the way his jaw moved, his grip on the wheel ever so lightly loosening.
aaron didn't respond though; figuring he wasn't too keen on sharing whatever was on his mind, you put your focus out the window, watching the rain begin to slowly collect on the road.
"haley's cheating."
your head turned towards him in an instant, a sickening dread beginning to pool in your stomach at the blunt confession. "what?"
"haley's cheating on me." he fought against the brokenness that dared to ache in his voice, remaining solid and firm in his words. he released a breath, as if saying it out loud made it real; the final confirmation he needed himself. "i may just be paranoid, creating something out of nothing. but things have been... strange."
"oh." your shoulders slumped, the back of your head hitting your headrest.
"strange enough it's been noticeable."
"what's been going on?"
"weird phone calls." he bit his lip as he gazed off to the side, as if he were recalling an instance internally, his hold tightening once again. "she's been more distant. uninterested. sometimes, when she comes home, she won't look me in the eye."
ouch. "i'm sorry."
it was rather surprising, in an odd way. to the naked eye, aaron was someone who was well put together; phenomenal at his job, a clear key-in for potential director of the bureau someday. from an outsider perspective, one could infer he lived a perfect life, and therefore had the perfect family to go along with it.
if he wasn't confiding in you, that's what you would've thought.
aaron didn't talk about his personal life - that's one thing you quickly learned upon your addition to the team, a month or two ago. you could recall what penelope had for breakfast, what books spencer had read in a day, what color underwear morgan had currently on.
anything about aaron, nothing.
whether it was because he was your boss, or because he wasn't an openly expressive person, you always went back to the guilty thought - has anyone at least ever asked?
while you all went out for drinks after a long day, aaron never usually attended. but he had a family at home, of course he would go home to them - that's where his priorities laid.
the constant secrecy surrounding him was the reason you've been so intrigued by him since day one - spending so much time with someone you knew nothing about.
and if you learned anything now, he wasn't going home to the home you had previously thought. it was barely a home, he was more so a guest. you were slowly beginning to understand more why he rarely smiled.
aaron hotchner was just as human as anyone else.
even now, he wasn’t showing much emotion. it was evident he was extremely hurt, and had all the emotions one could imagine. but would he distinctly let that on, letting his vulnerability show - no.
aaron opened his mouth to respond, slight hesitation before he spoke. he began to deflect, "but i could just-"
"no. listen to your intuition." you interrupted softly, grounded. "like you said, if you're taking notice, something's going on."
he nodded in agreement, the motion of his head strained. he did force out a chuckle, a terribly sad laugh. "part of me doesn't blame her-"
"don't say that. she's your wife."
"exactly." aaron sighed out, eyeing the wedding ring on his left hand. "there's something i could've done to prevent this. to keep her interested. to solidify i'm still here for her despite the long hours and schedule. instead i'm the husband and father who's never home. and it's difficult to be the husband i want with the possible betrayal."
"she's your wife." you repeated, solemnly. "so she should know you. you're the husband and father who stops at nothing to catch the criminals who walk amongst us. you're this job, and asking for understanding on that isn't wrong. regardless of what you say you're doing wrong, or have done wrong, it doesn't give haley the excuse to... do this."
you didn't want to say cheat. not for his sake - the depth of the word felt harsh and prominent in your chest.
"i appreciate you saying that." his eyes met yours briefly, the tone of his voice genuine. "but i messed up. i guess what they say about getting needs met elsewhere is true."
you quieted.
aaron also added after a moment, in an exasperated near-whisper. "and besides... i don't think she's known me in a while."
silence filled the car once more, and you let out an exhale. you felt for him, and his marriage. you couldn't imagine what it felt like, or how he felt: the person who you thought was your forever slipping through your fingers - like trying to catch smoke. it was there, you just couldn't grasp it.
you hoped you weren't overstepping boundaries with your next question. "does she know..."
"that i know?" aaron asked, and you nodded. he kept his stare forward, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. "i believe so, yeah."
you waited for him to speak again, while he was confiding in you, you didn't want to pry - none of really this was your business. you at least hoped it was clear you were offering support within the silence.
and you must've, because he continued. "i feel sick to my stomach it could be happening in my house. in my bed. with our son in the next room over." he shook his head angrily with the last sentence, in disbelief as he clicked the windshield wipers on, the rain falling more heavily now. "i lie awake at night when we're gone, just thinking what's going on at the moment."
"i wouldn't do that." you offered quietly, although you knew that advice was nearly impossible to follow. "you will make yourself sick."
aaron vaguely shook his head again, defeated. "i don't know what else to do."
you weren't sure what to say, or exactly why he was telling you all this. again, you didn't know him well. and not only, in a way, he terrified you, in more ways than one. the only way you could describe it - when he looked at you, he really looked at you. you were terrified of what he could make you realize about yourself.
"so, what are you going to do?"
"i don't know."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 12
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11
He’s got to be heading to the quarry, right? That’s where he goes on Wednesday’s after school to sell his stash, he’d told Steve so umpteen notes back. Steve’s poured over each one enough times to damn-near have the things memorized.
He’s in his car, speeding fast enough that if Hopper catches his ass, he’ll be hauled into a jail cell before he can even make it. Steve pushes his foot down on the pedal harder, trying to eke out any last bit of speed.
When he reaches his destination, Carver’s car is parked sideways across the dirt road that leads off to the quarry, blocking anyone else from entering. Steve slams on his breaks, kicking up dirt all around him, obscuring his view of the windshield.
He steps out into it, dust gritting up his eyes. The only way out is through, so he heads toward the sound of raised voices, stumbling over a raised root as he goes.
He can just barely make out the words now.
“—leave her alone, or you’re dead, do you hear me?” Carver’s not yelling, but when he comes into view, his eyes are hard, and he’s clutching at Eddie’s t-shirt with enough force that he’s holding his knees off the ground.
There’s blood on Eddie’s face, dripping down off it and staining the dirt beneath him.
Steve doesn’t think. “Hey!” he calls, rushing forward to insert himself between them, but before he can, Carver drops Eddie into an ungainly heap on the ground and spins around to face Steve.
Steve lets him; if his eyes are on him, then he’s not looking at Eddie.
“Harrington?” Carver asks, shoulders slumping like Steve’s a friendly, not one wrong move from popping him one in the nose. “What are you—”
“Why don’t you get the hell out of here before the cops show?” Steve asks, using his Team Captain voice.
Steve watches it land. Carver’s shoulder slump, and he looks over Steve’s shoulder at where he’d abandoned his car. But then Eddie spits a glob of blood onto the ground, and Carver’s face shores up into something vicious.
“He was going to ask your girlfriend out, I heard all about it from his little friend!” Carver spits, like the words hurt as they come out of his mouth. “You should thank me on hands and knees!”
“I bet you’d love him on his knees,” Eddie cuts in, words slurring worryingly together.
Carver turns back toward Eddie, face gone almost translucent in the light of the afternoon sun. “Why, you—“
“Shut up, man,” Steve says, finally looking away from Carver to where Eddie’s on his knees, partially obscured by Carver’s body.
Eddie looks up at Steve, defiant as he spits a glob of saliva and blood into the dirt again then wipes his mouth with a shaking hand.
Steve stares down at him, stomach twisting in on itself as Eddie’s glare only intensifies. There hadn’t been much in his eyes when he’d been looking at Carver, but when he’s looking at Steve? That’s rage, barely banked by what must be a killer concussion. Steve turns away from it, unable to bear it a moment longer.
“What’s the point of this?” Steve asks Carver, the exhaustion he’s starting to feel leaking into his voice.
“Chrissy doesn’t need—”
“Chrissy is an adult who doesn’t need either of us fighting her battles for her,” Steve cuts in. “Besides, they’re friends.”
Carver’s mouth curls in on itself. “She would never be friends with this f—”
“She’d kick your ass herself if she heard you talking about Munson like that.”
Carver turns his back on Eddie entirely, glaring at Steve like they’re in some sort of quick-draw stand-off in a stupid Western. Steve’s tired of this guy and all his hate, he’s tired of people he loves being hurt, tired of having to be Chrissy’s shield against the asshole in front of him, and Robin’s shoulder to cry on, and going home to an empty fucking house.
He’s just tired.
It’s a relief when Eddie stands on his own two feet, legs visibly shaking but holding his weight. Because nothing will ever stop Eddie from being Eddie, he claps like Steve and Jason are kindergartners and he’s their beleaguered teacher sent to corral them.
“Well, this has been fun,” Eddie says, grinning around the blood in his teeth. “But there’s only so much jock on jock violence I can take before I break out in hives. So, can I go?”
He throws a taunting thumb over his shoulder where his van’s parked closer to the cliff’s edge, turning to stumble toward it without another word. Carver and Steve both rush to stop him for opposing reasons.
“I’m not done with you,” Carver hisses.
Steve grabs his shoulder, yanking him hard enough to send him stumbling back a few steps. “Leave it, Carver, or I’ll ruin you.”
“What the hell could you even do?” Carver demands.
Steve stares him down, dead-eyed and entirely fed up. “I can tell Chrissy what you did, and she’ll lose what little respect she had for you. Then? I’ll have a meeting with Coach and get you kicked off the team. Then, who knows, maybe I’ll plant drugs in your locker, shave your head while you’re sleeping, vandalize school property in your name. Do you really want to stick around and find out what else I can think of?”
Carver holds his gaze for another, endless second before turning away and slinking back the way he came. Steve watches until Carver starts his own car, swerved recklessly close to Steve’s own parked car, and sped away.
When he turns back, Eddie’s nowhere to be seen. He slinks toward his van, unwilling to spook the guy further if he doesn’t need to.
He’s in the driver’s seat of his van, cursing as his shaking hands fumble with the keys, missing again and again as he tries to jam it into the keyhole.
“You can’t drive,” Steve says quietly.
Eddie still jumps, dropping the keys into the well beneath his feet as he snaps his head up, eyes wide and pupils eating up his face. There’s a bruise already swelling up his eyes, and blood caked beneath his nose. He looks a downright mess.
“Here to finish what your buddy started?” Eddie asks, showing off his bloody teeth again in a grin, as if Steve can’t see him shaking.
Steve shakes his head, throat clogged with too many words to name. What comes out is, “you’re not supposed to drive with a concussion.”
Eddie, tellingly, does not argue the concussion, but his bared teeth are starting to look more like a snarl as he replies, “I’m not leaving my van here.”
Steve stares at him. He’s sweating, with injury or panic, Steve’s not sure. There’s dirt in his hair, like before Steve had arrived, Jason had him on the ground, glossy curls pressed into the dirt. Steve clenches his hands into fists the more he sees. His t-shirt is black, but there’s a rip at its hem that Steve doesn’t think was there before.
He aches to reach through the open window and touch that busted face, find the split in his lip, clear the blood from beneath his nose.
Instead, he opens the driver’s side door, feeling like absolute scum as Eddie shuffles away, eyes wide as he presses himself as far away as possible as Steve climbs in.
“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, voice all wobbly.
Steve bends down to pick up the keys where Eddie had dropped them. He slides the key home and Eddie’s van tick tick ticks itself to life. When Eddie’s music blares, Steve reaches across to turn the dial down, ignoring Eddie’s flinch at his movement.
“Taking you home.”
Eddie’s van is bigger then he’s used to driving, the ride bumpier as he turns around and slides carefully past his own car, his keys probably still abandoned in the driver’s seat somewhere.
Hopefully it’ll still be there when he comes back for it.
***
“Did Chrissy put you up to this?” Eddie asks, voice small, small, small.
Harrington’s shoulders slump, clenched fingers loosening on the steering wheel. He sighs, long and loud, perfect hair rustling with the movement.
“Robin, actually,” he replies, lips tucked up into a facsimile of a smile.
Robin, Robin, Robin, does he know a Robin? His brain’s not working, too scrambled up inside. Eddie’s entire face aches as he scrunches it up in thought before cutting that shit out. No thinking for him until some of this heals. Still, he worries against the name, until, “Buckley?” comes out of his mouth.
Harrington smiles, warmer this time. “Yeah, she saw Carver following you.”
“And went to you?” Eddie asks, voice squeaking embarrassingly on the last word.
Harrington doesn’t answer, but his hands clench tight enough against the steering wheel that his knuckles turn white.
Eddie resolves himself to shutting the fuck up for the rest of the drive.
“How do you know where I live?”
“You’re…loud, dude,” Harrington says, pulling into Eddie’s empty driveway. Harrington’s right, he is loud. It still sounds like a lie. “Is your uncle home?”
Eddie squints, busted eye bursting with pain as he asks, “how do you know I live with my uncle?”
Harrington raises his eyebrow, clearly saying “you’re loud, dude,” again without even needing to open his mouth. Eddie kind of hates him for it.
“He’s on a fishing trip,” Eddie sighs.
Without another word, Harrington turns off the engine and slides out of the van, shutting the door gently behind himself. He rounds the front of the van and Eddie sits, stupefied in his seat as Harrington pulls open the passenger side door and holds his hand out like Eddie’s some swooning maiden. Feeling flustered and frustrated in turns, Eddie slaps his hand away and steps out of his van on his own two feet, slamming the door closed behind him.
Harrington doesn’t move out of the way as Eddie storms past, their shoulders banging into each other makes Eddie’s teeth rattle painfully in his bruised skull. He only remembers he doesn’t have his keys when he’s standing in front of his front door, hand empty.
He stares down at it, betrayed.
His house keys jingle in Harrington’s hand as he steps up beside him. Without even a by your leave, he inserts the key into the hole and twists, inexplicably choosing the right key on the first try. Is Steve Harrington a mind reader?
Harrington pushes the door open and holds it open for Eddie, as if it’s not his house they’re walking into.
“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie demands, standing on his own front porch like a loser as Harrington bends down and takes his sneakers off.
He lines them up neatly by the wall like he’s staying in The Ritz or something and doesn’t want to stain the dingy carpet.
“Taking my shoes off?”
“No!” Eddie wails, clutching handfuls of his hair, beyond frustration and into something that feels a lot like hysteria. “What are you doing here?”
Straightening up, Harrington stares down at Eddie where he’s still standing on his own porch. He looks incredulous, as if Eddie’s the one who’d saved him from getting killed by some jock, and Eddie’s the one who followed him home after like a lost puppy.
Like Eddie’s the one that doesn’t quite fit in the trailer park, and not Steve Harrington with his squeaky white shoes and ironed polo, and luscious hair, and skin that’s all sun-kissed even as summer’s barely a memory in a little girl’s eye.
“Your uncle’s not home.”
Eddie stares, gobsmacked. What the fuck are they putting in the water in Loch Nora, Jesus Christ! “So?!”
Harrington squints at him again, his aloof cool-guy shtick finally breaking to show the judgmental mean girl barely hidden beneath. “You’re totally concussed, dude,” Steve replies, a King handing down a decree to his loyal subjects. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t like, die.”
Eddie, never one to follow anyone’s decrees but his own, immediately starts bitching. “So, what? You’re playing home invader until someone comes to relieve you?”
He nods, smiling down at Eddie like he’s a puppy who finally learned not to piss on the carpet. Fed up with being a rung lower, Eddie takes that last step up onto the stoop and brushes past Harrington into his own goddamn house.
Harrington shuts and locks the door behind him.
Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor for the first time in his life, Eddie continues further into the trailer without turning around, not stopping until he’s got the bathroom door as a barrier between his vulnerable back and the latest interloper.
The light hurts his eyes as he flicks it on. His face hurts worse, and he can see why, now. One of his eyes is well on its way to swelling shut, a deep red bleeding into purples the farther out it goes. There’s blood beneath his nose, and it’s ballooning out making him look like some old lady’s prized pug. There’s a split going straight through his lip from Carver’s class ring.
He looks like an extra in a horror movie; the guy who’s about to make the sacrifice play because he’s not going to make it. And yeah, maybe there’s a little melodrama in the thought, but Eddie’s pretty sure he deserves it at this point.
God, what a day.
As punctuation to his own thoughts, someone knocks quietly on the door. Eddie’s ribs ache as his shoulders slump, head hanging damn-near into the dirty sink.
“Eddie?” There’s a moment of silence where Eddie’s response is supposed to be. He doesn’t heed it. “Can I come in?”
Eddie groans, loud enough that it’s gotta be audible through the tissue-paper door between them. “Why?” he says–whines pitifully, really.
“I want to check your injuries.”
Eddie, against his better judgment, cracks the door open wide enough to peer through. “What’s it to you, Dr. Harrington?” he asks, that same question wrapped up in a new package. Why are you here, why do you care, what do you want from me?
Harrington just smiles, and pushes at the door with just enough force that Eddie has no choice but to back up and let his unwanted guest in.
He takes Eddie’s face in his hands, rubbing gentle fingers against each wound, murmuring soothing placations. It works enough that Eddie stands still as Harrington sanitizes and bandages each of his wounds.
“You should ice them after this, okay?”
Eddie nods dumbly because Harrington’s moved on from painfully prodding his face to running his fingers through his hair, checking every inch of his skull for bumps and bruises.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” he asks.
Eddie hums, relaxing against his will, body slumping into the cupboard behind him as those nimble fingers have their way with him.
“My ribs, maybe,” Eddie murmurs, eyes closing as Harrington’s fingernails scrape against his scalp before he withdraws his fingers.
His eyes snap back open a second later when those same fingers yank his shirt up without asking, warm palms chasing away the chill on his skin as they skirt over his ribcage, applying gentle pressure to whatever Harrington finds. Eddie shivers involuntarily as Harrington bends down, breath puffing against his stomach.
“Wh—what are you doing?” Eddie asks, stuttering over every other word.
He’s clenched up tight enough that his whole body aches with it—spine, jaw, wrists. But then Harrington looks up at him, usually impeccable hair softened by the day and flopping gently into his face. Eddie always assumed his eyes were brown, but they look sort of gold in the shitty fluorescent light of the bathroom.
He’s never been this close to Harrington before.
“Checking your ribs,” he replies, breath puffing against Eddie’s uncovered skin with every word. “Does that hurt?”
And then he just dismisses Eddie in favor of palpitating what must be a nasty bruise. Eddie whines, inexplicably, embarrassingly, before squeaking out a tiny, “no,” when Harrington looks back up at him with his big, worried, puppy-dog eyes.
Eddie’s own words to Carver make a reappearance, flashing red in neon lights inside his empty skull—I bet you’d love him on his knees. He’s on them now, between Eddie’s spread thighs, looking at Eddie’s body with an intensity that’s skinning him alive.
His skull’s not empty now; it’s bursting with half-formed thoughts, and panicked wheezing he hopes is just internal, and through it all, the words run rampant—on his knees, on his knees, on his knees.
Steve Harrington stands up, takes a step back, and smiles at Eddie. “I think they’re just bruised,” he says, seeming not to notice Eddie’s ragged breathing. “We should ice them, too.”
And then he just…walks out of the bathroom like Eddie’s not full to bursting with thoughts and feelings he doesn’t understand. Like it wasn’t Harrington that had dropped them at his feet—on his knees.
***
Steve sticks his head into Eddie’s freezer and resists the urge to scream. It’s just—Eddie had been blushing when Steve had looked up from checking his ribs for cracks. Steve’s never seen him blush before, and it’s seared into his brain (the way it’d started from his ears and meandered across his cheeks before slowly spreading its splotchy hue down his neck).
For a second, it was almost like Eddie didn’t hate him.
Steve suppresses the thought. Boys shouldn’t have crushes on straight boys who hate their guts, and letting even the tiniest flutter of hope touch his heart would be stupider still. There’s his silly little notes, and there’s his pining little glances.
He doesn’t need anything else.
“Are…you okay?” Eddie’s hesitant voice comes from behind him.
Abruptly remembering his position, Steve pulls his head out of the freezer and grabs the first bag he sees: a half-full package of frozen peas. He turns to Eddie with the best smile he can manage, holding them up as explanation for the unasked What the hell are you doing? hidden beneath the bemused smile on Eddie’s lips.
“Just finding you some ice, dude,” Steve replies breezily, walking over to drop the bag into Eddie’s hand.
“Uh, thanks?” he replies, walking past Steve to close the freezer he’d left open. Steve winces. “You can like, go now.”
It’s a demand hidden beneath a polite question. Steve’s feet start moving toward the door before he remembers the lump he’d felt on the back of Eddie’s head, and the way his eyes had gone all glassy and dazed in the bathroom as Steve had patched him up.
“Unless you want to call someone else, you’re stuck with me until your uncle gets here.” Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but Steve holds up his hands palm out, forestalling his complaints. “Possible concussion, dude.”
Eddie whines, actually stamping his foot squeakily against the linoleum of the kitchen floor. Steve smiles, helplessly endeared, and hates himself for it.
“Why is it your problem if I nod off in my sleep, you don’t even like me.”
The warm feelings flee like they’d never been there at all.
Steve turns his back on Eddie’s petulant frown and stomping feet, unwilling to look him in the eye as the emotions crash through him. Just for a second, he lets his face drop.
“I like you, just fine,” Steve replies, ignoring the little scoff from Eddie in reply.
The trailer’s small and crowded with things on damn-near every surface, but it’s cozy. Steve’s imagined this moment—getting through the Munson’s front door and finally seeing what’s inside. It’s warm, a hot cup of tea, a blanket on a cold night, somewhere to feel safe in.
All Steve feels is cold.
Instead of answering Eddie’s scoff, Steve lets his own little tantrum stomps lead him over to the ratty couch. He sinks down, crossing his legs as he leans back into the cushions, and finally, finally looks at Eddie. He’s still pouting, bottom lip having split open against the pressure of his frown. Steve raises a pointed eyebrow before turning back around to stare at the black of the TV screen.
Eddie groans again, and it takes all his willpower not to turn around, not to let his shoulders curl in as he hears footsteps coming closer. But, all Eddie does is settle onto the other side of the couch and grab the remote.
It’s going to be a long night.
PART 13
#koko's steddie secret admirer au#steddie#my fic#eddie's almost having a thought here. he can feel it coming on#can't believe we're already halfway there!
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never going back again - 02
summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup
simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining
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It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,
"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"
What you did all day,
"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"
It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.
"What are you doing in here?"
"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.
"I thought you were good at cooking"
"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.
He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"
"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"
"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,
He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"
"Let you what"
"Cook, I'll make dinner"
"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.
"Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"
"They don't feed you at work?"
"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"
"Did your mum cook?"
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"
"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"
He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,
"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"
He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,
"So what are you making?"
"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"
"French toast?"
"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"
You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,
"Well, it smells great"
The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,
"You can't be serious"
"What'd I do?"
"That's like a cup of syrup"
"So?"
"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"
"What if they already have"
You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"
"You don't have to turn away you know"
You make a small huh? in response,
"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"
"I just assumed"
"I know, but you don't have to turn away"
"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. “How’s your cut”
“Healing, thanks to you, still tender”
“Can I” You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.
He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.
You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,
“Sorry”
“Doesn’t hurt”
You tilt your head to him and he’s watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.
“That should do”
“Thank you”
“It’s nothing”
“Thank you” He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.
"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"
"You trying to kick me out?"
"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"
"There isn't"
You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"
"Right"
There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.
"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.
He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.
You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,
"You scared me"
"You were having a nightmare"
"Yeah, they happen sometimes"
It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,
He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,
"Simon"
He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.
"Will you stay, it's just"
He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"
"Please"
"Of course"
You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.
You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.
You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.
"Do you have something in your pocket?"
He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,
"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.
"It's fine"
He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,
"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"
"Thank you"
You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.
You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.
You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.
You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.
“Where’s the kettle?”
“Top left cabinet”
You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,
“Thanks”
He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yep, just making tea”
“Okay, bags are in the lower cupboard”
He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“Shit” He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, he’d never had soft before always jagged and dark.
His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,
“Are you any good at fixing things?”
“Depends, what needs fixing”
“The shutters outside, they’re falling apart”
“I could give them a look”
You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.
The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.
“I think you’re his new favourite”
Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.
“Strange”
“He’s not strange”
“Not him just, I’ve never had a cat do this”
“Well get used to it”
He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.
“The shutters”
You set your cup down, nodding at him, “There’s some tools in the shed outside, not sure what’s left but maybe they’d help”
“I’ll get right on it then”
It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.
I’m hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.
“Beer”
It’s the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes he’d stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.
“Cheers, love one”
Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.
“Must be hot with the mask”
“Get used to it”
You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he can’t tell if you’re teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.
“How’s it looking”
“Great”
“So you’re almost done”
“Huh?” His eyes pull back to yours,
“Are you almost done, it’s getting unbearable out here”
“Yeah, nearly there”
“Great, I’ll be inside”
The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didn’t involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.
“Mind if I shower, I’m covered in sweat”
“Yea of course” Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, “Towels are in the washroom”
He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,
“You alright?” You call
“Yeah, just sore”
“Well hurry up, I’ll check your stitches”
You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.
“Figured it’s easier if I just put my shirt on later”
He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,
“Sure, easier”
He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise they’re doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.
“S’good, should be able to take them out soon”
“Great”
“Might leave a scar”
“Adds to the collection”
You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.
“I’m fine”
“I know you are”
“It only hurts a little, when it happens”
“And someone did this to you”
“A few people”
“How many is a few?” You stare at him with rounded eyes,
“Nothing you need to worry about”
You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,
“I guess we should sleep now” His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,
“Simon, would you- nevermind”
“What do you need?”
“I felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldn’t have any, you know”
“Yeah, I’d like that- you not having nightmares” He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.
“Okay” You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, “I’ll keep the lights off if you want”
He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.
He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.
You’re asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable he’d been in years, maybe ever and be didn’t dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.
He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,
“Good morning kitty”
He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that he’s not wearing a mask, it’s light out, and you’re not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.
He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.
“Mornin”
You turn around with a wide smile, “Sleep well?” You ask, leaning against the counter,
“Best in years” He’s being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then he’d accept it with open arms.
“Good, cause I think I found that wire you needed”
His heart sinks in an instant, “You did?”
“I think so, was tucked back in the drawer”
“Oh, I’ll see if it’s the right one then”
You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.
“The bathrooms got mold in it” It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.
“Huh?” You turn with your brows furrowed,
“The bathroom, noticed it last night, I can’t fix it if you’d like”
“Are you sure, I didn’t see any”
“Easy to miss sometimes, it’s just near the drain, shouldn’t take more than a day to clean up”
“Yeah sure, just let me know what you need”
He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,
Now I’ve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.
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