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taeghi · 6 months ago

Text

let's collab | (m)

⇰ summary : you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.

⇰ pairing : camboy!heeseung x camgirl!y/n

⇰ genre : smut!! masturbation, vibrators lol, dirty talk, oral, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, praise, sir kink, spanking, brief spitting and hair pulling lol.

⇰ word count : 10k (8k of it is just pure, filthy smut) !!!

⇰ taglist : @criminalyun @princeseung @seokseokjinkim @loveydoveyhee @immelissaaa @iselltulips @strxwbloody @ensaz008 @loavibeycipoosan @liwugy @starfallia @you-make-skz-stay @ineedsomezzz @heeshlove @niniissus @mirramirra @skzenhalove @fandom-freak-geek @lilifiedeans @woahhhhaw @cchangli @enhabooks @heelovesmeknot @fakeuwus @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @jjklvr9 @hanjisunginc @iamliacamila @jaylaxies

mdni

you started ‘darlingdove01’ when you needed some extra cash in your second year of college. at first you didn’t show your face at all and you were nervous that someone you knew was going to find out. godforbid your parents found out about your sex work.

over time, you started to get more comfortable in front of the camera and started to show your face. though you never said your real name. you had started to get a close following and were at the top of the creators of the week every week. the way it worked was that the longer you were number one, the more increase of pay you got. though, you had never been number 1 for more than one week at a time.

all thanks to hluvsbabes.

it seemed that every week you and hluvsbabes would alternate who was number one. no matter what new things you tried to increase your audience and views, the next week you were back at number two.

the day that you were fed up with always being put back to second was the day that you would very soon regret.

you were lazily scrolling through the app when you noticed hluvsbabes had just started streaming, so, you clicked onto the livestream.

and there he was. hluvsbabes shirtless with his hard cock pulled out of his pants and sitting in between his fist. his pale skin gleamed against his computer screen light, showing off his abs. he had a black mask covering the lower part of his face. his bangs fell into his squinted eyes as he casually pumped his cock up and down in his fist.

you couldn’t stop your jaw from going slack as you took in the sight before you. you could tell his mouth was in a playful smirk as he watched the comments fly. suddenly a tip of 20$ flew in the corner of the screen : “take ur pants off pls”.

you could hear his dark chuckle through your speakers, “mmm, only because you said please.”

you watched him do as the viewer asks. he dug his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulled them down to reveal his pale legs that matched the rest of his body.

he seemed so confident and casual as he sat in his chair fully nude, as if 8,000 people weren’t watching him right now.

“is that better for you?” his voice asked with a tone of amusement. you watched him laugh as all the comments immediately filled with variations of “yes”. “what else do you want me to do? tell me.” the comments were instantly filled with nasty things that you have to admit you also wanted him to do.

you had figured hluvsbabes was hot since he was always top one or two, but you didn’t think he would look like this. and that his voice would be so seductive.

“i won’t be taking off my mask, guys.” hluvsbabes shakes his head with a chuckle, he’s just so amused with his fans. along with his fans you also wished he took off his mask. you would love to see the mouth that formed such seductive words.

suddenly, a tip came up in the corner of the screen of 100$, “start jerking ur cock, baby”. your jaw dropped at the amount of the tip. you had only ever received 100$ worth a few times in the past two years. hluvsbabes didn’t even seem that shocked by the amount as he did as he was told.

his hand started to move faster up and down his hard cock. the tip of his cock looked so red and swollen in the light of his computer screen.

“will you spit on it for me, baby?” hluvsbabes whines out and you instantly shut your legs together.

the comments are gradually picking up pace, commenting demands and praises, asking questions for him to answer. you can hear his deep grunts through your speakers as he keeps his bang covered eyes on the comments.

a 15$ tip pops up in the corner again; “tell me i’m ur good girl pls”.

hluvsbabes amusingly shakes his head, “of course you're my good girl. do you have your fingers in your panties? how wet are you? tell me how wet you are, good girl.”

you’re in shock from his words, the comments, the amount of tips and from how hot hluvsbabes is.

his deep laugh distracts you from your thoughts. he throws his head back on the chair’s headrest, making his bangs reveal his forehead. even with his mask on, you can tell that his mouth is open agape from the pleasure he’s feeling.

“fuck, guys. i’ve been thinking about this– about you all day. my dick has been hard since my morning class.”

the thought of him having to walk around with a hard cock all day because he thought of getting off in front of thousands of people only turns you on more. he continues to move his hand up and down his cock, his grunts getting louder and louder.

“i-i’m getting close. i wish you were here to taste my cum, shit.”

it was getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore the tingly feeling starting to increasingly grow in the pit of your stomach. you felt entranced by him, not being able to take your eyes off of your screen. you had only planned to watch a couple of minutes just to see what the hype was about, but now you’ve been watching him for close to twenty minutes. you lean onto your desk uncaringly over your keyboard and your heart stops when you see :

darlingdove01 : ghj

your eyes widen at your username in the comment section, praying to god none of his 15k viewers notices.

“oh, darlingdove is in here,” hluvsbabes’s voice speaks suddenly, making you jolt away from your computer screen and grab the handles of your chair. he tilts his head and looks directly into the camera as he continues, “how are you, darling? do you like the show? do you like watching me get off?”

you are in shock and you can’t think of what to do. you never thought you would be in a situation like this. you notice all the comments start filling up with your name as hluvsbabes is still stroking his cock and groaning.

“maybe she’s too busy with her hands to type right now.” hluvsbabes jokes in a grunted laugh. you cover your mouth with your hands in shock. and you read one comment that says “who can blame her?”.

and with that, you immediately leave the one and only hluvsbabes livestream you have ever watched, the embarrassment being almost too much.

a few days and a lot of thoughts of hluvsbabes later, you know you have to get back to livestreaming. you had planned a few things for your next live stream despite being busy with college and being distracted by the memories of hluvsbabes.

the way ‘darling’ slipped from his mouth so casually and sensual.

usually, people only referred to you as ‘dove’. you didn’t anticipate for darling to be so efficacious. but maybe it was only because hluvsbabes had said it. the way it sounded in his smooth, mischievous tone. it kept you up at night.

tonight, you had to live stream on your account.

you started at your usual time; 10pm, in your usual setting; your bedroom. your nightside lamp was lit behind you, being your only source of light besides your computer screen. your body was covered by an oversized hoodie which covered your panties and the top of your bare thighs.

“hi everyone,” you spoke into your microphone, looking at the rising amount of viewers on your live stream. the comments started piling in, regular questions about yourself mixed with sexual ones that made you laugh to yourself. “my week was good, thank you. how has your week been, guys?”

you read some of the comments, recognizing some of the usernames that comment. and when you notice a steady amount of viewers and when the comments start teasing you and begging you to start, you begin.

“tonight,” you start, and sit back in your computer chair, “i think i’ll have some fun with my new toy.” you reach out of the camera’s view and grab the toy you had bought earlier in the week. it was a long, white vibrator. you take your time to show the camera the entire toy, smiling proud of it. “what should we name him?” you giggle out, reading the comments as they flood with names and praises and begging.

you sit back in your chair, “he has three settings, should i start with the lowest? see how wet he can get me?” you ask, your voice teasing. tips start to come in, telling you to turn it on, telling you that they want to see you cum.

with a flick of your thumb you turn it onto the lowest setting. a low buzzing sound fills your bedroom, entering the mic for your audience to hear. you lift your feet so they rest on the chair, your knees up in the air. your hoodie bunches at your waist for your panties and bare legs to be revealed. you press the vibrator against your clit over top of your panties, testing it.

“oh god,” you moan, “even the lowest setting is good.” you inform your audience, keeping your eyes on the camera and comments. you giggle when you read a tip that tells you to move it in circles. “want me to move it? want to watch me pleasure myself?” the comments flood with yes’s.

you start to move the vibrator in slow, small circles around your clit. wanting to tease yourself and the audience for as long as possible. you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. the feeling of the vibrator against your pulsing clit and the eyes of hundreds of people watching you in real time.

a tip catches your eye;

heesacc tipped 50$! : that looks like it feels good, darling. why don’t you move up a setting.

your eyes linger on the word darling and the large tip they gave you.

“okay, let’s put it up to the medium setting.” you agree, your finger flicking the button up. the buzzing becomes louder as the toy starts moving faster. your hand still moves the vibrator in slow, small circles over your panties. “fuck, this is even better, baby.”

you read comments that compliment you, that tell you they wanna see you cum right now, that you should remove your clothes.

“want me to take my clothes off?” you tease the camera, your free hand playing with hem of your oversized sweater. “tell me what you want me to take off.” the comments tell you that they want you naked, that your sweater should come off, that everything should come off.

heesacc tipped 50$! : take your sweater off and play with your tits, darling. rub your nipples and pretend it’s me.

“wanna see my tits? wanna see me play with them just for you?” you bite your lip at the tip, but do as they said, putting down the vibrator for a second as you pull the sweater off your core. your breasts being revealed to the audience. you look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the large wet stain on your panties from your juices and the vibrator. “oh my god, look wet i am.” you wiggle so your panties can be seen better on camera. the large wet stain evident in the computer screen’s light. “this is how good you make me feel.”

you read the comments that say they wish they were there beside you, that they want to rip your panties off.

you pick up the vibrator again, still on the medium setting. your one hand holds the vibrator steady against your covered clit, as your free hand comes up and starts to tweak your nipples. your forefinger and thumb hook your nipple, rolling it. you let out moans at the feeling, your back arching off your chair naturally.

“fuck, i love playing with my nipples, it turns me on so much.” you state honestly, switching between nipples with your fingers.

heesacc tipped 70$! : let’s see how swollen your pretty pussy is, darling.

you gulped as you read the tip come through. just reading the words sent a shiver straight to your core. you swore your pussy got so much wetter as you finished reading it.

you set the vibrator down again, “you wanna see my pussy, baby? wanna see how wet and swollen you got it?” you tease the camera, your hand dragging across your panties. with the multiple “yes”’s commenting, you start to slowly slide your panties off your legs, showing the camera the larger wet stain on them.

you lean back in your chair again, the same position with your feet on the chair and knees up, but this time your pussy was visible to the camera. your hand glides down between your legs. you keep your eyes on the camera as your fingers slide through your lips so easily. you whine when your fingers rub over your sensitive clit. “i’m so wet, fuck. you could slip right in. stretch out my tight pussy. god, i need that so bad. need to be stretched out.”

you reach for the vibrator again, “let’s see how long i can last on the high setting. i’m so close already.” you giggle out to your audience.

you turn the vibrator to the highest setting, the toy buzzing in your hand as you bring it to your bare pussy. instantly you throw your head back, crying out at the pleasure. your other hand massaging your breast.

heesacc tipped 100$! : cum like a good girl, darling.

“oh god!” your eyebrows pull together from the pleasure. your knees start to buckle as the pleasure starts to take over you. “i’m gonna cum! fuck, i’m cumming.” you nod your head and try to keep your eyes on the camera as you hit your high. your bare chest heaves as your orgasm washes through your body, struggling to keep the vibrator on your clit from oversensitivity.

when your head clears and your body relaxes, you manage to say goodbye to your audience, that you’ll see them again next time. you end the livestream, your eyes reading the tips, resting on the username ‘heesacc’. you had never seen them before, but they tip generously throughout the entire livestream.

and they kept calling you darling.

you always had to get coffee before class. but your usual coffee shop had a line out the door today, so you had to go to one on campus that you’ve never been to before. though you knew you’d probably be late to class now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit through the two hour lecture without your daily coffee.

you’re distracted by the menu of unfamiliar drinks that you don’t hear the barista question if you’re ready to order until the third time he says it.

“oh sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head to wake up, “uh, could i get the blonde vanilla latte, please?” you tell the barista. you start to dig through your backpack for some money.

“darlingdove01?” his voice questions, recognition definite in his voice.

your head snaps up to look at the barista properly for the first time. your username making your ears and cheeks paint red. “uhh, yeah!” you’ve only been recognized in public a few times, and they’ve usually been at parties or get together, never in a public public place before.

the barista has dark brown hair that’s covering his forehead. his eyes are big, doe-like and expressive. his features are sharp and delicate at the same time. his complexion is so smooth in the harsh coffee shop lights. “oh, cool.” his voice is smooth as he shrugs, almost impressed. “that’ll be 5.49$, please.”

so shocked, you scramble to pile some change on the counter, dropping it for him to pick it up. you smile with a faint nod before you walk away for the next person behind you to order.

you take deep breaths as you wait for your order, telling yourself that it’s okay, that that could’ve gone a lot worse. you weren’t used to people looking at you in public, that’s why you chose to stay behind a screen.

“blonde vanilla latte!” the barista calls out a few minutes later. you go up and take the cup from him. “have a good day.” he’s polite, and his eyes tell you something that you don’t quite pick up.

you turn away from the counter, ready to get the hell out of his coffee shop. you glance down at your drink, noticing words written in black on the side.

let’s collab, hluvsbabes

with his number written underneath. you turn your head to look back at the barista, but find a woman working the cashier instead. the brown haired boy disappeared from sight. you think back from the one and only hluvsbabes stream you had seen of his. he had kept his bangs over his eyes, hiding how doe-eyed they really were. his mask covered the entirety of his lower face. there was no way to know if the barista was really the hluvsbabes, but his eyes seemed to tell you that he was. that he knew who you were, too.

your fingers hover over your phone’s keyboard. the apparent hluvsbabes’s phone number typed in above, but the message box left empty. you decide to bite the bullet, even if it wasn’t him, all you had to do was block him after and then act like this never, ever happened.

youhi, uh hluvsbabes?

only a few minutes pass before you get a response.

(123) - ***-**** hahaha yeah but you can call me heeseung

(123) - ***-****

hi, darlingdove01!

you

how’d you know it’s me? my name’s y/n btw

heeseung

bc you’re the only one i’ve given my number out to lately

heeseung

and bc i knew you’d text me sooner rather than later ;)

you smile, rolling over onto your back, your phone in the air as you text hluvs- heeseung back.

you

damn, i knew i should’ve waited a month

heeseung

noooo i’m glad you texted me

heeseung

i wanted you to text me

you

righttt, you said something about a collab?

heeseung

yeahh, i think you should come over sometime soon

you could hear your heart strumming against your chest at his text. the hluvsbabes wanted to collab with you. you had only been competing against each other on onlyfans for months. and neither of you had done a collab before, solely solo stuff. you wondered if it’d be a good idea or not.

heeseung

c’mon, you know i can make you feel good ;)

you were leaning towards it being a good one.

later in the week you found yourself outside of hluvsbabes apparent apartment. he had only lived a quick bus ride away from you, both of you living close to your university campus. you were biting your fresh manicure the whole bus ride there.

heeseung had texted you to make sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you. that he just wanted to get to know you, and hey, if a collab happened then it happened!

though he was very polite and tried his best to reassure you and make you comfortable, you were still nervous to go to a guy’s house that you had seen masturbate before. you had heard what he sounds like when he masturbates. you had thought about his voice and his moans so many times since the “incident”. you were going to a boy’s house that you had cursed at so many times when you saw that he had passed you yet again in subscribers every few weeks.

you knock on the apartment number’s door that he had given you. you waited a few quick heartbeats until the door opened.

there stood the barista you had seen a few days ago. his doe-eyes the same and his long bangs covering his forehead.

“y/n?” he spoke, a smile on his lips that made him seem even prettier than you remembered.

you tried to picture what hluvsbabes would look like so many times, and now that you finally got a chance to see him, standing in front of you, letting you in his apartment, you were in shock.

he was so much hotter than you could have ever imagined– now that you weren’t embarrassed in public when someone said your username outloud.

“wanna come in or stand in the hall all day?” he spoke again, his eyebrow propped up.

“oh!” you jolted, “sorry, sorry– i’ll come in.” you tell him, smiling at him as he held the door for you and closed once you were in.

a quick glance around the apartment and you noticed how clean and home-y it looked. a regular couch, coffee table and tv took up one side of the apartment. and on the other side was a small island in the small kitchen. there was a hall on the far side of the room from you– which you figured led to his bedroom. (the room where he masturbates online for money– oh god!)

“you can sit down on the couch if you want,” heeseung gestures to the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his gray sweatpants, “do you want a drink or anything?”

“uh no, i’m good thanks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch, your hands clasping together in your lap.

as he sits down beside you on the couch, you think about how after you had texted him the other day you had seen he was live on onlyfans– and how you made sure to not press it. the thought of him seeing you watching his livestream again made you physically cringe.

“so uh,” heeseung starts, a casual smile on his face as he looks at you, “have you thought? about my offer? about the collab?”

you nod, “i have,”

“right, well, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want– like i said. we can just hang out– i just saw you and i needed to give you my number i couldn’t just–,”

“i wanna do it.”

heeseung’s eyes widen at your answer, “really? only if you’re comfortable.”

you nod, “yeah, i want to.”

heeseung’s body relaxes at your words, “okay, when?”

“right now?” you shrug at him, “i mean you usually stream soon anyways, right?”

heeseung thought his mind was gonna explode. the hot girl that he’s competed with for top creator was sitting in front of him on his couch, telling him that she wants to collab with him. she could collab with anyone, but she wanted to collab with him. he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“o-kay,” heeseung stutters and clears his throat, “uh, is there anything you're specifically into– or not into? i mean i’ve seen your streams so i know some things but i-,”

“you’ve seen my streams?” you ask him confused and intrigued.

heeseung fights the urge to slap himself, “i mean, yeah. you’re always top creator right?”

“right, i just didn’t think that you’d watch them, i don’t know.”

“why wouldn’t i watch them? you’re hot and you know how to engage with the audience.” heeseung admits honestly.

you squirm at his compliment. “you’re hot, too.”

heeseung seemingly relaxes completely at this, finally being able to comprehend what’s happening and what you’re thinking. “thank you, i mean i know you’ve seen my streams before, you commented once.”

you cover your face with your hands, “oh god.” you groan out.

heeseung laughs at you, “what? is it bad that you’ve watched me masturbate?”

“no!” you shake your head quickly, eyes wide, “it’s just– i didn’t mean to comment that time– i didn’t even mean to press it! it’s just, just…”

“i’m just that hot?” heeseung teases you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“oh my god, shut up!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder. it’s then that you realize how close you’ve gotten on his couch.

heeseung laughs harder, his face turning serious again when he speaks, “okay but seriously, anything you are or aren’t into?”

you settle into your spot on the couch and think, “uh, i think i’m okay with anything.” you shrug, “but no anal though. and i’m more into, it being rough.”

heeseung smirks and asks, “okay no anal. how about choking?” you nod in response, “slapping?” another nod from you, “how about degrading?” you blush and nod.

“i’m okay with everything but anal, heeseung.”

“okay, and if you wanna stop, should we come up with a safe word?”

you ponder for a second and think, “how about, latte?”

heeseung smirks at you, “latte it is, then.”

both of you stare at each other, lust and playfulness filling your expressions. somehow, your faces are only mere inches apart now as both of you take in the other’s features. you had only seen each other through a computer screen before. had only read each other's usernames on the top creators list– without even knowing your real names. and now you were about to give each other everything– including your first collab.

your breath quiets as you look into heeseung’s eyes, scanning the brown in them before glancing down at his pretty lips. your lips are just centimeters away from his when he speaks again, “let’s start.”

heeseung grabs your hand and pulls you up, guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom. he leans over his computer, setting up his account and livestream. you take the time to look around his room.

his room is definitely the same one you’ve seen on live steam. the multiple monitors on his computer desk. a basic bed with a black and white comforter. and you recognized the few posters on his walls that he allowed to be seen in his lives.

“okay, it’s ready.” heeseung tells you, “are you sure you wanna do this? we can stop whene–”

“i’m sure, heeseung.”

“okay, i’ll press start live then,”

“wait!” you reach for his shoulder, “what about your mask?” you know he’s never gone live without his mask– it’s the one thing that helps keep his identity unknown.

heeseung simply shrugs at you, “i mean, i can’t really eat you out with a mask on, can i?”

your mouth drops open, but before you can say anything, the camera light flicks on, signaling that you’re live. the camera is pointed towards heeseung’s bed behind you as heeseung ushers you to sit on his usual gaming chair, he stands beside it.

“hi guys,” heeseung says cooly to the camera. he lowly chuckles to himself as the comments start pouring in. there seems to be hundreds of comments in a second about “darlingdove01” and heeseung’s face. a lot of the comments are talking about how hot heeseung is and that they “always knew he’d be hot!”.

“today we have a very special guest, darlingdove01 is here,” heeseung gestures to you. you wave at the camera, watching the viewer numbers grow higher and higher as the introduction continues. “and she told me that she likes anything… but anal.”

“hey!” you shove him playfully with your shoulder.

he only chuckles before continuing, resting his arm over the back of his gaming chair behind your head, “so today, i’m gonna do anything to please her.” he takes his other hand and cups your chin so you’re forced to look at him, “does that sound alright, darling?”

“yes,” you tell him, watching his warm brown eyes turn darker as you make eye contact. you can tell he’s no longer heeseung, but instead he’s “hluvsbabes”.

“yes what?”

“yes, sir.”

“good girl,” heeseung leans down and presses his lips onto yours. you don’t have time to register that you are kissing the hluvsbabes. his lips are soft against yours, but their movements are deep and rough. just from the kiss you can tell what direction this live stream is going in. he pulls away too soon for your liking, ��pull up your shirt.”

your hands reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and lift them so your bare breasts are visible to heeseung and the audience.

“fuck,” heeseung groans, his hands cupping both of them. both of you mentally note how perfectly they fit in his warm hands. he turns to the camera, “doesn’t she have the most beautiful tits?”

heeseung starts to tweak both your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. your hand flies to grip the handle of the chair, your back arches into his touch.

“that feel good?” he asks you with a smirk, obviously amused by your reaction.

“yes, sir. they’re sensitive,” you admit.

“are they?” heeseung tilts his head, “keep playing with them, then.”

your hands replace heeseung’s. your hands are definitely not as big and as warm as heeseung’s. but you massage your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples like he told you to.

meanwhile, heeseung starts to kiss down your revealed torso, his hands unzipping and pulling down your shorts so fast. you watch him get down on his knees in between your legs, his hot breath against your panties. heeseung groans once he’s eye level with your core and can see the faint wet strip on them. he could always see how wet you were on livestream, but now he gets to see in person.

“i wanna make you feel good,” heeseung says against your skin, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, your legs spread wide for the camera to see. “are you gonna do whatever i say?”

“yes, sir.” you nod down at him, watching his tongue lick his lips so close to your pussy. ‘i wanna be your slut.”

heeseung chuckles against your skin, his fingers slip inside your panties as he speaks, “let me feel my slut’s pussy then.”

you take a deep breath as his fingers start to massage your clit, exploring your pussy for the first time. he’s thought about his fingers touching you so many times before. he could hardly believe that you were actually in front of him right now.

“you want me to taste your pussy, darling?”

“please,” your voice sounds so breathy when you speak again, his fingers pressing hard.

“ask me to.”

“please taste my pussy, sir.”

with that heeseung slides his middle finger into your core. it feels so long as it reaches right to your g spot immediately, as if he knew it’d be there. your jaw drops open as he pushes his finger in and out. a whine leaving your mouth as you start to move your hips to meet his finger. his palm is massaging your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of your core.

heeseung then pulls his finger out of you, “take off your panties, show everyone your pussy.” heeseung leans more to the side as you do what he says. your panties drop to the floor and your legs are on either side of his gaming chair. “fuck, doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, everyone?” heeseung is staring at the camera as he massages your thighs.

heeseung’s lips meet your core before you can comprehend. he’s making out with your clit, the sloppy sounds fill your ears and the audience’s as he sucks your clit into his mouth. he reaches his finger up to slide into your core again, so easily.

“my finger barely fits in there,” heeseung smirks.

his mouth continues to lick and suck on every part of your pussy. his tongue circles your clit in his mouth. your hand is gripping the chair arm as you watch him, unable to contain your moans.

“fuck yes, sir.” you cry out, throwing your head back from pleasure. you don’t think anyone has been able to make you feel this good with their mouth before. your ex’s could never make you cum at all.

heeseung is moaning against your core, letting you and the audience know that he is also enjoying this, “god this pussy tastes so good, tastes better than i’d ever imagined before.” your stomach tightens at his words, feeling high on the pleasure heeseung’s mouth and fingers is giving you so easily and the audience watching you both. “keep playing with those tits, darling.”

your hands fly up to your sensitive nipples, almost forgotten by how pretty heeseung looks while he makes out with your pussy. your body’s whole senses are heightened. heeseung can start to feel you clench around his fingers as your hips start to buck up to his mouth, wanting more of him.

“fuck that feels so good.” you whine out, your eyebrows furrowing together at the pleasure.

“are you gonna cum?” heeseung asks lowly. he watches you nod at him, unable to form words.

then, heeseung rips away from you. his mouth and finger gone and before you can realize, he’s standing again beside you. his hand wrapped around your neck gently– forcing you to look at him with your legs spread.

“you have to ask for permission if you want to cum,” heeseung’s voice is stern as he looks you in the eyes, “understand?”

“yes, sir.”

heeseung’s smile returns as his hand leaves your neck, “here, taste yourself.” your mouth opens for heeseung to slide his finger inside your mouth. your lips close around his finger, sucking it into your mouth as your tongue swirls around it, wanting to taste yourself. “good girl.” heeseung removes his finger, and instead presses a kiss to your lips, softly, passionately, as if to check in on you. but you’re so hungry for an orgasm that you really would do anything right now. “are you ready to make me feel good?”

“yes, sir.”

“get on your knees.”

you sit up, closing your legs for the first time and feeling how wet your inner thighs were. heeseung pushes his chair to the side as he stands, looking down at you as you kneel before him. “you wanna suck my cock?” heeseung questions you, noticing how you tighten your thighs at his question. his hand slides down on your chin for you to look up at him. you nod in response to him. “ask me.”

“can i suck your cock, sir?”

“good girl, take it out.”

your hands work to unbutton his pants, pulling them down to his upper thigh to release his cock. you just have to stop and marvel at it. there in front of you is hluvsbabes huge cock that you had thought about stretching you out for weeks. it’s much bigger in person you think. it’s hard, and the tip is so pink as some veins swirl down it.

“open your mouth.” heeseung starts to glide his dick into your mouth. your hand coming up to grip the base of it as your lips close around the tip. “god, keep those eyes on me.” heeseung groans out as you start to such his cock. heeseung keeps his hand on your head, hsi fingers meshing with your hair.

you do keep your eyes on him with as much of his cock as you can manage in your mouth. your hand jerks what you can’t fit as you moan against his dick.

“god you’re so big sir,”

“yeah? think it’ll fit inside your pussy? think it’ll stretch you out so good?” heeseung retorts, watching your mouth work on his cock. he’d be lying if he said you weren’t making him close to his orgasm already, your innocent eyes looking at him as your mouth sucks his soul out.

“yes, sir, please– want your cock so bad.” you speak before going back to sucking his cock. your tongue circles the hot, pink tip of it before tracing the delicious veins. your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth.

“are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth?”

you nod at him with his cock still fully in your mouth. heeseung moves both of his hands to grip your head as your own hand drops to your thighs, so tempted to play with your clit, but you know sir wouldn’t approve.

heeseung starts to slowly move his hips so his cock moves in and out of your mouth. he stops when the tip is at your throat– feeling your throat tighten against the tip. he almost pulls out fully everytime, just so that the tip is at your swollen lips before he pushes back in again.

“oh, my fucking god,” heeseung moans out, looking at the camera monitor to see him fucking your pretty mouth. your mouth feels too good for him to even notice that the viewer count is at 16,000. “play with my balls like a good girl.”

heeseung continues to fuck your mouth as your hand reaches fro his balls. they are heavy in your palm as you start to massage them gently. tugging on them and moving them around easily with your salvia that has dripped down.

heeseung pulls his dick fully out of your mouth, letting you breathe for a moment. you could feel your pussy drip down onto his carpet– you hoped it wouldn’t stain.

“open your mouth,” heeseung tells you. your jaw drops open, revealing your used tongue and mouth. heeseung leans over you and let’s a drop of his spit lands right onto your tongue before he starts to hit his dick against your tongue. he mixes your spit with his on his cock and both of you groan out at that the thought of it.

heeseung goes back to fucking your mouth. his grip on your head tight as he’s picked up the pace of his hips. his cock sliding so quickly in and out of your mouth. the sounds of your saliva and gurgling against his cock fill the room and microphone.

“that’s it, like that, like that like a good girl,” heeseung groans out his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his own pleasure boiling. probably boiling too much if he wants this to last any longer.

heeseung pulls away from you and pulls you with him for you to sit on the floor while he moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, his feet on the ground for you to sit in between them. your chest is heaving from excitement and lack of air. you watch as heeseung pulls down his pants fully and throws them on the floor beside his bed.

heeseung’s hand wraps around your neck as he looks down at you, “you ready to get fucked, darling?”

“yes, please.”

“ask me to fuck you.”

“can you please fuck me, sir.”

“get up on the bed and turn around.”

heeseung’s voice is demanding as you scramble to stand up, your knees tired from kneeling for so long. you get up on his bed for the first time. you turn around so your ass is towards him in the air, your face pressed into his bed.

heeseung pushes your chest further into his bed by placing his hand on your back, “stay like this like a good girl, okay?”

“yes, sir.”

“i’m gonna fuck this little pussy just like the slut you are.” heeseung grunts, spreading your ass cheeks more for him to slide his cock right inside of you.

the stretch of his cock is just what you imagined it would be. it’s almost blissful once he’s fully inside. you can feel the tip of his cock basically reaching your cervix. once he’s bottomed out completely, both of you groan out into his bedroom, pleasure taking over both of you.

“there we go, darling,” heeseung grunts through his teeth as he starts to slide back out of you. both of you feel each and every vein of his cock sliding against your oh, so wet walls. “let sir fuck you like a slut.”

heeseung’s one hand grips your waist as the other one stays on your back. his hips quickly pick up pace, his cock easily going in and out of you due to his saliva and your juices mixing together. your hands grip the blanket on his bed, crying out into the bed as you finally get what you want.

“oh my god it’s so big!” you whine out, your eyes trying to focus on the camera.

“yeah? it’s so big and full just for you, it’s all just for you.” heeseung grunts out, his bangs covering his forehead like usual, his eyes entranced only on you. he watches as your entire body jerks forward everytime he slams his cock into you. his hands run down and grab your ass, wanting to finally feel it after he’s seen it so many times on your livestreams.

heeseung slaps your ass, making you cry out a curse. the pain of it turning you on even more. you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as heeseung fucks you even rougher. heeseung’s balls are soaked from your juices.

“reach down and rub your clit for me.” heeseung demands you, trying to keep his voice steady when he speaks.

you manage to sneak your arm under your body to start rubbing circles on your clit with your index and middle fingers. you instantly cry out. with your fingers on your clit and heeseung managing to hit your g spot with every single thrust the pleasure starts to boil up more and more in your tummy.

“oh shit!”

“you better not cum unless i tell you to,” heeseung smacks your ass again, harder, a warning. “you hear me?”

“fu-fuck yes, sir.”

heeseung suddenly grabs you up from the bed from under your arms, mumbling a “come here” before he turns you to face the camera. both of you standing now with his cock still lunged inside of you.

“let everyone see this fucking slut’s body.” heeseung grunts out, staring directly at the camera as he continues to thrust up into you from the back. he reaches over your front, rubbing your clit for you now. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, trying to keep standing upwards. “you like everyone seeing me use you like this? like using you to get off?”

“f-fuck sir, can i cum? please?” you whine out, barely being able to keep your eyes open as you look at him.

“yeah? you wanna cum, darling?” heeseung voice is almost teasing as he doesn’t stop his movements.

“please let me cum, sir. please i’m so close.”

“ok, cum for me, do it.” heeseung nods, his grunts loud in your ear as he manages to fuck you faster and faster.

you can’t lift your head from being thrown back onto heeseung’s shoulder. your body feels weak as heeseung fucks you infront of the camera, probably hundreds of people watching you come undone on hluvsbabes’ cock. you’ve been so close to orgasming for which feels like hours at this point.

“i’m cumming! i-i’m cumming!” you manage to cry out. your moans get higher in pitch as you finally reach your high.

if heeseung wasn't holding your body up with his arms, then you wouldn’t fell straight to the floor. the pleasure was almost over consuming. your body was on high sensitivity everywhere. to be honest, it had been awhile since anyone besides yourself or your vibrator had made you cum. that probably not getting any dick for a while and then fucking the hluvsbabes would probably make you feel as lightheaded as you do now.

heeseung gently pulls his cock from you, his hands slowing down on your clit before pulling away from it. he leads you to lay down on his bed. your head is on his pillow as he crawls on top of you. your bodies are still very visible to the camera from the way his bed is positioned.

heeseung starts to press soft, gentle kisses into your neck and jaw, letting you calm down from your very obvious, hard climax.

you hear heeseung chuckle into your ear before he speaks, “is this a bad time to tell you that i donated to you on your livestream before?”

through your post-nut haze, your eyes widen as you process the information, “what? when?”

heeseung laughs before he moves down your body, kissing every (sweaty) inch that he could, “a few days ago i guess, darling. i’ve watched your streams quite a lot to be honest.”

the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes it click in your head. “oh my god, you were the person who donated like 200$ the other day!” you also start laughing at the realization. who could not believe that hluvsbabes not only watched multiple of your streams, but also donated to you. your competitor for top creator was also boosting your content.

“yeah, i didn’t know how or if i should tell you that. but i guess now is the better time.” heeseung pulls away from your body so he’s on his knees hovering over you. “now put those legs up, let me see your swollen pussy again.”

heeseung helps guide you to hook your arms around your knees, holding your legs up, pressed against your chest. your entire core is exposed for not only heeseung’s eyes, but the camera’s and all of the audience’s.

“god please but your cock back inside of me, sir.”

heeseung drags his cock through your folds teasingly, “yeah? the slut wants to be stretched out again?”

“yes! sir, yes!”

heeseung guides his cock back inside of you with his hand, bottoming out completely in one thrust. your arms stay hooked around your knees, your hands resting on your ankles to keep yourself from squirming from the pleasure.

heeseung leans over you, his hand coming down to choke you again. his grip on your neck tight as he starts the previous pace he had. rough and hard. your whole body moves with every thrust, his headboard hitting his wall.

“oh fuck oh fuck!” you cry out, your pussy so sensitive from being overstimulated.

heeseung could feel your walls flutter around his cock, “you better not cum.” he pulls his cock out again, his hand slaps the tip of his cock over your clit, making you jerk up into his pillows. “tell me you won’t cum without permission, slut.”

“i-i won’t cum without permission, sir.”

heeseung slides back into you, his pace rough. the banging of his headboard in rhythm with his thrusts. your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts. heeseung keeps both of his hands on your waist as he hovers over you. his main focus is to fuck you so good that you forget everything else. and by the way your eyes start to haze over with pleasure he can tell that he isn’t too far from it.

“keep your legs up,” heeseung grunts to you, reminding you to keep your knees by your face. your swollen pussy is visible to him now. he has clear access to see his cock fucking into you. your lips are so puffy that he can’t help his thumb rubbing your also swollen clit. your head is thrown back into the pillow, his hard, circles on your clit mixing with his hard thrusts are overpowering you completely.

heeseung leans over you, his hand gripping your neck again. his face is inches from you, his lips almost on yours. his thrusts don’t stop as he chokes you.

“you like being a good girl for me?” heeseung asks you more quietly, loosening his grip on your neck for a moment to let you speak.

“y-yes sir, i love it.” you nod up to him, completely submissive to him.

“turn around for me again, then.”

although your body felt weak from the pleasure, your adrenaline was rushing enough for you to be able to get up and turn over quite quickly. your ass up in the air as you grip onto the pillow in front of you. you feel heeseung behind you, lining up his hard, soaked cock with your soaked pussy.

“push back on it, darling.”

you let your knees push back, feeling his cock insert inside of you, filling you up yet again. this angle made him feel even bigger. his cock pressing into your cervix is only when you stop pushing back. heeseung’s hands land palm down on your ass when you bottom out. the pain makes you jut forward. the moan that escapes your lips as the pain settles on your ass is sinful.

“god, i love your ass,” heeseung smacks it again, watching it start to turn red, turning him on more he thought his cock was going to explode any minute now.

with that thought, heeseung starts sliding in and out of you again. his hand reaching over your back to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your upper half backward. the pain from his pulling makes you cry out in the best way. all of your senses seem to be overcome by heeseung. your grip on his pillow that smelt like him, tightened.

“you like being fucked like this? like being used?” heeseung grunts out to you, his own eyebrows furrowing together as your walls clench around him.

“ye-yeah, sir.”

“say it.”

“i like being used, sir.”

“look at me while i fuck you.”

with his hand still pulling your hair, you turn your head to look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are swollen from probably biting them so much. there’s sweat dripping down his line of abs that you just want to lick off. his bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he looks so hot.

heeseung continues to fuck you until his thrusts get sloppy, his grunts get softer and his headboard isn’t banging against his wall. you turn to look at him, “let me ride you.”

his hand smacks against one of your ass cheeks, making you cry out, “ask me.”

“can i please ride you, sir?”

heeseung pulls out of you, both of you switching places so now heeseung’s head is in the pillow that you were gripping. his legs are flat out against the bed as you crawl over him. both of your knees are on either side of him as you look down at him now.

slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. you close your eyes as he bottoms out in you once again. this angle felt entirely different. you could feel how hard and big he was inside of you. heeseung’s hands run up and down your bare thighs, letting you get use to the angle.

“you good?” he asks from below you, concern on his face.

“yeah, just sensitive -is all.” you shrug to him and start to move slowly. you start out slow, wanting to build both of your orgasms again. your knees lift your body up and down with the help of heeseung’s hands on your waist, he helps lift you.

your hands grip your tits, massaging them again. your sensitive nipples hard against your palm. you start to bounce down on his harder, his tip hitting your g spot everytime now. you cry out in pleasure again.

“fuck just like that,” you tell him, your eyes closed as you nod to him.

“like that?” heeseung teases you, his cock hitting your g spot again.

“y-yes,” you tell him, bouncing harder.

“fuck, i love his pussy,” heeseung grunts to you, “so warm and tight around my cock.”

“oh my god,” your body falls forward, your hands resting on either side of his head as heeseung takes over the thrusts completely. his hands on your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. “fuck, sir.”

heeseungs grip on you leaves you to go nowhere. just stay on top of him as he fucks into you. your knees feel weak against his mattress. you can feel his balls slapping your ass every time he bottoms out in you. heeseung can feel your juices dripping down onto his lower stomach.

“okay turn around, slut, let the audience see you.” heeseung gently pushes your core up and off of him. your mind feels dazed as heeseung has to literally, physically flip you over on him.

now that you’re in reverse cowgirl, you can see yourself in the camera’s monitor. heeseung lays underneath you still, so just your bare body can be seen completely. you look so different you usually do, you’re glowing.

your feet and arms hold your body up over heeseung, his hands on your waist as he slides himself up into you.

“oh fuck!” you cry out, watching heeseung dick disappear inside of you in the camera. you start to bounce up and down on his cock again, though you keep your eyes open to watch yourself.

“shit, keep going, baby.” heeseung grunts below you, “just like that.”

with every thrust heeseung’s balls are hitting your clit. you can hear a wet squelch between your bodies everytime you move. your pussy is so wet around his cock. heeseung wraps his arm around your body, massaging your clit with his fingers in a circle once again.

“yes, sir! rub my clit, sir please!” you cry out to him. your hands sturdy yourself on his chest behind you as you continue to bounce on him. his cock filling you up every time. his hard balls slapping against your pussy. his fingers keep moving against your clit. “i’m so close, sir, so close!”

suddenly, heeseung’s fingers stop and he’s pushing you off of him. your chest is heaving as you look back on him. your pussy is clamping around nothing, so desperate to cum.

“lay down,” heeseung is also out of breath when he speaks, “wanna see your face when you cum.” heeseung grabs your forearm and helps you lay down again. he puts your one leg up to your face, allowing him access to slide into your fucking soak pussy again.

heeseung holds your leg up, while the other starts to rub your clit again. his thrusts continue to stretch you out, to hit your cervix over and over again. you aren’t sure how much longer you can last with this much pleasure he continuously gives you. you’ve never had sex this good before.

“want me to fill up your little pussy?” heeseung grunts above you.

“yes, sir.”

“ask me.”

“please cum inside of me!” you cry out, heeseung’s hand smacks your thigh before returning to hold your leg up, “own this pussy, fucking own it it’s yours!”

“oh fuck!” heeseung grunts out, your words making him closer to his own orgasm so quickly.

“oh my god i wanna feel you fill me up so bad, sir.” you were becoming so desperate, so needy. you wanted to cum so bad. you wanted heeseung to cum so bad.

“fuck me, keep talking, keep talking, darling.”

“please cum inside of me! i want it so bad!” you tell him honestly. his thrusts making your whole body move with each thrust. you can feel his cock start to twitch inside of you. his moans getting higher, mixing with your own.

“fuck, baby, i’m gonna fucken cum,” heeseung tells you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and harder.

“me too, me too.” you cry out, your eyes closing as the pleasure takes over you.

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed together as the pleasure became too much for him, too. curses and moans fill up his bedroom– entertain the audience that’s watching you through the camera. he feels your walls clench harder around him than ever before as his cock starts to spurt his white sperm.

heeseung paints your walls with his cum as you grip his forearms tight. your second orgasm making your body feel numb from how good you feel. his thrusts finally stop as his grunts slow down. his cock rests inside of you as he lays on top of you. both of you catching your breaths and coming down from your highs for one second.

“fuck,” heeseung curses in your ear, his chest heaving against yours. he finally pulls out of you, both of you watching his cum slowly trickle out of your pussy. “god that’s so hot.” heeseung reaches down to swipe some of his cum.

you immediately open your mouth, wanting a taste of it. heeseung rests his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste his salty sperm. you moan around his fingers, sucking them dry of his cum.

“you’re such a good girl.” heeseung grunts out, “you’re gonna make me hard again.”

you laugh around his fingers, “i wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

heeseung smirks at you and kisses you deeply. both of your eyes closing as you welcome the other’s lips. the taste of heeseung’s cum not bothering either of you.

heeseung pulls away from you and is the first to stand up. he reaches over and tosses you his shirt to slip on before he heads back to his computer desk.

you easily slip on his shirt and pull his sheets and blanket over top of your bare legs.

“holy shit.” heeseung exclaims, pure shock and what almost sounds like fear in his voice.

“what?” you sit up in his bed properly, trying to look at his computer screen.

“there’s 30,000 viewers right now.”

“holy shit.” you cover your mouth. you had never had that many viewers before in your life. 30,000 viewers, it’s literally like yours and heeseung’s fan bases came together to view your live stream.

heeseung clears his throat, “uh, thank you guys so much, really. we hope you enjoyed, right?” he looks over at you from his shoulder.

“right, we’ll see you next time, hopefully. thank you.”

“right, because there definitely needs to be a next time.” heeseung winks and with a final wave he ends the stream. you notice the red light on the camera turns off.

you lay back in heeseung’s pillows, feeling tired as your legs gain back their strength. you hear heeseung hum gently as he fixes things on his computer, on his hluvsbabes account. you feel relaxed as you lay in his bed, wanting to sleep so bad.

“holy shit!” heeseung yells louder suddenly, his humming stopping as he pushes his chair back, standing up in only his boxers.

“what?” your heart races, concerned from his yelling. “what happened?”

“y/n,” heeseung turns to you with a silly grin on his face, “do you know how much money we made off of that?”

you sit up straight, leaning closer to him though he’s meters away, “how much, heeseung.”

heeseung can’t contain his excitement when he states, “15k.”

“oh my god!” you cover your mouth, not believing what you’re hearing. “you’re fucking lying.”

“no i’m not! come look!”

you stand up, legs wobbling a bit, but heeseung catches your arm nonchalantly. bringing you over to sit in his chair again. there, on the computer screen, is the number 15,000$ in tips connected to the livestream you had finished.

“oh my god, heeseung!” you turn to him, your excitement meeting his. both of you wrap your arms around each other, your squeals filling the room as you rock side to side with excitement. “15k!”

“15k!” heeseung shouts back as he pulls away slightly, his hands still on your waist.

“now we definitely have to do it again.” you tease him.

heeseung smiles, but you notice his shoulders tense, “yeah, but before that,” heeseung swallows harshly, “could we go on a date?’

you sit up in his chair, wearing his shirt and nothing else, “wow, the hluvsbabes wants to go on a date with me.”

“of course, i mean, i recently got a lot of money. so, i can spend it all on you.”

you shove his shoulder with your hand, “of course i’ll go on a date with you, heeseung.”

“really?” heeseung asks, his face lighting up so prettily.

“yeah, but only if you fuck me really good after.”

“that, i can definitely promise.”

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#heeseung smut #smut #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #hard hours #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enha #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen fanfic #fanfic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung #kpop #kpop smut

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seonghwaddict · 9 months ago

Text

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi reactions #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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pathologicalreid · 1 month ago

Text

falling flat | s.r.

in which you call Spencer for help with a flat tire, and he comes to help with you car troubles - and then some

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to the reaper, car trouble, blood, tetanus vaccine, kindergarten teacher!reader, flirting, protective!spencer, takes place following 5x22 "the internet is forever", hastily edited word count: 1.87k a/n: rahhhh an old prompt from may 2024 that ended up working for a margovember request rahhh.

The absolute last place you wanted to be was on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere Virginia, with a flat tire. You weren’t entirely helpless until your tire jack broke, sending metal flying everywhere and cutting your hand open.

You slumped down next to your car, pulling your phone from your pocket before calling the first people you could think of. Every single one of them ended up going to voicemail. Some of them didn’t even let it get past the first ring before declining your call—traitors.

With your thumb hovering over the call button, you thought of Spencer. He had a PhD in engineering, but you weren’t entirely sure that would come in handy in this instance. It was late, almost midnight, and you weren’t even sure he’d answer.

At this point, what choice did you have?

As the phone rang, part of you hoped he wouldn’t answer. When he asked you about it the next time you saw him, you’d wave it off as a butt dial and he’d be none the wiser.

“Hello,” he said through the phone, leaving your plans quashed.

This was awkward, you had been on four dates with the guy over the span of two months, and now you were calling him in the middle of the night. “This isn’t a booty call,” You blurted, cringing inwardly and banging your head back on the passenger door of your car.

Spencer laughed lightly, “I didn’t think it was, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked, his job had a lot of long hours, and you didn’t want to bother him if he was catching up on sleep. If he was even home, “Wait, where are you?”

There was a rustling on his end of the call, “No, I wasn’t asleep, I’m at work. We just got off of a case.”

You let out a sigh of relief, at least you weren’t being a total nuisance. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just… my tire blew out on the highway and my jack broke and no one else is answering their phone,” you told him, verging on rambling.

“You’re kind of cutting out, where are you?” He asked, he sounded concerned, and if there was a moment where you weren’t sure you still had feelings for him, it was fleeting.

Looking to either side of you for a mile marker, you stood up, looking at the ground so you didn’t step on any metal, “I don’t really know. There aren’t any signs, I’m somewhere on 28, I think?”

Spencer cleared his throat, “Do you have your location on your phone?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I have enough service to check it,” you said, all you could see were trees.

You could hear him talking to someone, holding the receiver away from his mouth, “That’s fine, I’ll have someone look, just stay on the phone.”

It would seem that dating someone in the FBI does have its perks, “Oh, cool.” You overheard Spencer explaining your situation to someone, hearing the other person in the room say something about Reid’s girlfriend and you couldn’t help but smile. The two of you were very unofficially official.

“Hey, I’ll be there in half an hour,” An elevator dinged in the background. “Is that alright?”

You hummed, leaning your hip against the front of your car. “I mean, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Another ding of the elevator, “Will you do me a favor?”

In exchange for this? You’d do just about anything within the realm of legality, “Name it.”

“Get in your car and lock the doors,” he responded. “Turn your hazards on because right now you’re a sitting duck. If someone doesn’t see your car, they could hit you.”

As a favor, he was asking you to make sure you’re safe, “Okay, I’m getting in now, should I leave the car running?”

You heard the sound of a car lock disengaging through the phone, “As long as the cooling system on your car is in good shape, it shouldn’t be a problem to leave it running while you wait. Just remember what I told you about the hazards.”

Nodding despite the fact that he can’t see you, you got in the car, turning the key in the ignition before pushing the button for your hazard lights, “Okay, I’m in the car.”

“I can’t drive and be on the phone at the same time, but I’ll be there soon. Don’t unlock the doors for anyone except for me,” he told you, and you thanked him for his help before hanging up and settling yourself in your driver’s seat.

You pulled the hoodie you kept stashed in your car over your head, your school mascot—a panther—proudly displayed in the front, and made sure your car doors were locked. If you said you weren’t a little unnerved, you’d be lying to yourself.

Spencer had a worrisome job; it was something you were aware of before he ever asked you on that first date. It became alarmingly obvious to you when he revealed that he’d been shot a few months prior, which was an appropriate second-date conversation with an FBI agent. It made sense to you that he’d be concerned about you, in your idle car, on the side of the road, but you wondered if there was a case that he was thinking of. Someone with a flat tire who had met an untimely demise.

Shuddering, you turned up the heat in your car, flipping through radio stations until someone knocked on your window. You jumped at the noise, hitting your head against the roof of the car before looking outside to see Spencer. Sighing in relief, you unlocked your car door, and he opened it for you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is your head alright?”

You peered up at him, casually leaning over your car door. “You cut your hair,” you observed. You’d seen him just last week, where his hair still touched his shoulders, and now it was considerably shorter.

Self-consciously, he reached up a hand and thumbed one of the tendrils, “Yeah, it just got too long—and heavy.”

Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair, your head bobbed, “I like it. Did you do it yourself?”

“You can tell?” He asked, following you around the back of your car to your busted tire. Spencer sets his tire jack down before looking back at you, putting his hands on his hips.

Grinning at him, you shrugged, “I teach kindergarten, I’m basically a professional at noticing DIY haircuts.”

On a towel that you had previously set out, the two of you sat along the side of your car, and you tried to ignore the fact that Spencer still had his weapon holstered. It made sense, he’d come straight from work, but you wondered if there was a reason he didn’t leave it in his car. “Where’s your lug wrench?”

“I can change it myself,” you insisted, “I just needed a different car jack.” You gestured to the pieces of yours that were now all over the side of the road.

Alarm flashed on Spencer’s face, “Nothing fell on you, right?”

You shook your head, “No, just a cut from the metal.”

Holding out your hand, you let Spencer take a look at the cut on your palm. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

Blinking rapidly, you frowned at him, “Uh, when I was in college?”

“That might need stitches,” he responded, letting you take your hand back. “I’ll change your tire, I don’t want you using that hand for anything,” he informed you, pushing the hydraulic jack beneath your car.

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you watched him take your old tire off, muttering under his breath about how your old jack was practically an artifact, seeing how it literally fell apart under pressure. “How was your case?” You asked softly, fully aware that you were likely opening a can of worms by asking about work.

Spencer’s movements faltered slightly at your question, “It’s closed. We were in Boise,” he answered tactfully, leaving out any case details and cluing you into the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What are you doing out here?”

You sighed, leaning back on your hands and watching him work, “I had a meeting with the other schools in our conference. It’s annual, and this year they happened to pick the school furthest away from mine.”

“Well, I suppose it worked out well that your tire blew out so close to me, then,” Spencer said, swapping out the busted tire for the donut and looking over at you. There was something nervous in his eyes, and you didn’t know if it was related to work or you.

Humming, you tried to watch the tire rather than just watching him, “Is there something bothering you?”

He was tightening the lug nuts on the spare tire, “Are you driving home after this?”

You furrowed your brows, “Yeah, where else could I be going?”

“It’s almost a two-hour drive to your place from here,” he reminded you, his tone laced with concern. “You won’t get home until almost one in the morning,” the displeasure in his voice was plain, but you don’t have anywhere else to go. “Plus, you really shouldn’t travel that far on a spare tire, they’re not made to travel far distances.”

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you let your shoulders slump forward, “So, what do you suggest I do? Get a hotel?”

Spencer mumbled something inaudibly, trying to finish tightening the bolts on the tire before sighing, “You can stay with me,” he blushes, a swipe of pink across his cheeks.

Your lips parted in surprise, “Uh, I don’t… I’m not…” you faltered. Utterly failing to come up with a good enough reason to tell him no, “I don’t want you to feel inclined. This isn’t what I was looking for when I called you for help.”

He let the car down, staying quiet while the two of you cleaned up, and Spencer swatted your hand away when you tried to pick things up. “So, you can come back to my place tonight. My work-issued first-aid kit has your name all over it,” he told you, eyes flickering down to the cut on your hand.

“Okay,” you breathed, unable to conjure a reason to refuse his hospitality.

He was grinning at you, hair just barely brushing his eyebrows, “So tomorrow, maybe we can get coffee and drop your car off to get a new tire?”

You smiled back at him, “That sounds great, date number five.”

“You know where you’re going, right?”

“Yeah,” you’d been to his place once to pick him up, “Hey, Spence?”

He turned around, fishing his car keys from his pocket. He looked ready to respond to you, but you pressed your lips to his before he had a chance to speak.

You kissed him softly, whispering against his mouth, “Thank you for coming.”

He chuckled lightly, gently resting a hand on your waist, “Thank you for calling.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #margovember #kindergarten teacher!reader

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hoffmansgirl · 2 months ago

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match made in hell ━ father charlie mayhew ♰

❱ note: this is dirty and so long, i got so carried away...... might make a part two???

﹅ warnings: where do i start... nsfw content of course, blasphemy!!, unprotected piv sex, fingering, squirting, oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, choking, slapping, hair pulling, creampie, mirror sex, they are soulmates <3

♡ requests for nicholas/charlie are so open! you ask and i deliver :) let's keep on feeding our delusions lmao

to say that she was a saint would be a complete misunderstanding. she realised that the first time she met him. the priest, devilishly handsome priest, to be exact, was exactly like her. and she noticed it immediately.

she didn't exactly expect a priest to be this young and this handsome. but what really caught her eye, was the soulless look in his eyes. she didn't know why, but she felt an immediate connection with him, as she sat in the furthest corner of the church, yet he still noticed her. hiding in the shadows, she sat, long, black hair falling freely onto her neck and back, short dress that made him rethink the church's dress code. her eyes glimmering with curiosity, as she listened to his sermon, or at least pretended to. she wet her lips, tilting her head, her eyes wide and devilish.

and then she noticed: his eyes lit up with passion and pure interest as he held her stare throughout rest of the mass.

charlie tried to explain the feeling that bloomed in his chest, but he couldn't. he has never seen this girl before, her every move was hypnotising to him. the way she tilted her head in wonder, her lips pickering just slightly, as she studied his face as if she was admiring him... it made his heart beat faster, his palms becoming sweaty, mind going blank.

the mass ended soon after, and charlie sighed in relief as people began to leave the small church. he then walked around the altar, blowing out the candles, his mind still wandering around the brunette girl, when a soft, melodic voice behind his back caught him off guard.

"hello, um... i'm sorry, father... i'm y/n", she started, pretty much relaxed, keeping her eyes on her hands. her voice like a psalm to him, his heart beating loudly in his chest, as he stilled, waiting for the right moment to turn around.

"i'm charlie", he shouldn't have said that. he should've kept it professional, but as soon as he turned around and his black eyes met her green ones, he felt that electricity go through his veins again. they were alone now, everyone has left the church, the silence comfortable for both of them. y/n looked up at the much taller man, the dim candle lights made his face glow, and she thought he was absolutely mesmerising. his full lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes following her every move, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"i have never seen you before, y/n", he noticed carefully, leaning against the altar, the veins in his hands popping out, and her eyes wandered on them for a little too long. she crossed her arms on her chest, the cold air hitting her skin with a sudden force, and she shrugged.

"the truth is, father... i want to confess. kind of", she hesitated, the big cross behind charlie's head making her question everything. god doesn't judge us, she thought, convincing herself. "maybe we could talk somewhere more... private? if you're okay with it", she corrected herself quickly, though her confidence never faded, even for a second. the determination visible in her eyes, and charlie got lost in her for a second, his own eyes sparking with something very unfamiliar to him. that was both exciting and... thrilling.

"whatever you need, y/n", he said wholeheartedly, "do you want me to drive you home?" the words left his mouth before he could think about them, and she opened her mouth in shock. pink blush adoring her cheeks, her lashes fluttering, the tension in her lower stomach getting more intense by each passing second.

"yes, i would very much enjoy that".

about twenty minutes later charlie and y/n pulled up by the girl's house. a comfortable silence was followed by a quiet sigh falling out of y/n's mouth.

"thank you so much, father", she whispered, eyes on his side profile, and she couldn't help but notice the way his strong, defined jaw clenched at her words.

"call me charlie", he replied simply, hands on the steering wheel, as he kept his eyes on the driveway.

"okay, then..." y/n breathed out, playful smile on her lips. "thank you, charlie", she corrected herself, and pressed her back against the passenger door. the corner of his mouth twitched, and his head turned to look at her.

she looked like a goddess, charlie thought, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her creamy thighs on full display. her short and tight dress has ridden up her thighs, her hair slightly messy, but still shiny and silky. her boobs tightly pressed together because of the arms resting comfortably on her chest. and her face looked angelic. charlie was mesmerised by her beauty, the urge to touch her now stronger than ever.

"i shall keep going", he cleared his throat, voice slightly shaky as he spoke.

"do you want to come in?", the words left her mouth before she had the time to think it through.

charlie tilted his head and looked at her with a devilish look in his dark eyes. she smiled softly, and shifted on her seat slightly, her predatory gaze focused on his serious face.

"of course", he replied simply and opened the door on his right, leaving the car quickly. she got up right after he did, and they walked together towards her apartment.

she unlocked the door to her apartment and welcomed him in with a quick smile.

"feel yourself at home", she said softly, leaning back against the wardrobe in the interior. she watched him take off his coat, his muscles tensing as he moved around. she bit her lip involuntarily, unholy images in her head.

charlie complimented y/n's apartment as they walked towards her room, a bottle of french wine in her hand.

she closed the door behind them, and she pointed towards a chair next to her bed. charlie sat down comfortably, leaning back, his legs spread wide as if he was inviting her to come between them.

"let me get changed real quick", she said, looking at herself in the mirror. the tight dress sitting perfectly on her figure, but she was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in it. she took off her platform shoes and looked at charlie, who was already staring.

he smiled slightly and closed his eyes to give her the possibility to change comfortably. but she reacted quickly, heart beating loudly in her chest.

"don't cover your eyes, charlie", her voice barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the quietness of her room, he wouldn't hear her. but he most definitely did. he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, and his eyes opened, so did his mouth, charlie's breathing uneven.

"i really shouldn't", he said after a second or two. his purity ring glistened in the dim lightning, and he reminded himself who he was.

he took the vows. he wasn't just a man; he was a priest, god's messenger, but the urge to look at her was too strong. she smiled kindly, as if she was doing something completely innocent, but he wasn't fooled. she was a devil, sent by god to test his loyality to him. yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. his cock grew stiff in his tight dress pants, longing to feel a touch of another human, any ounce of self control leaving his body.

y/n turned toward the mirror and put her hair over one of her shoulders. "i need some help", she smiled, referring to zipper of the dress. charlie nodded his head and got up quickly, his muscular body now behind her as he stared at her in the mirror.

charlie, very slowly, let his fingers run through her covered back, and she shivered, her eyes closing just for a moment before they opened in pure bliss.

he pulled the zipper of her dress quickly, the material falling into the floor with a soft sound. she stood there, right in front of him in just a black, lacy, slightly seen-through underwear. charlie's breath hitched, his gaze more intense, as he shamelessly looked at her exposed body.

she bit her lip, her eyes meeting his' in the mirror, as she took a step back, only to lean against his hard chest. her head tilted back, deep sigh escaping her parted lips.

"you and me..." she whispered, keeping eye contact with him, while leaning further into him, her lips dangerously close to his neck. "we are the same. i could feel it the moment i saw you. the darkness inside of you..." she stopped for a moment, only to turn around, now facing him. yn's hands run over his chest, his breath heavy against her hands. "is fascinating. you are fascinating. and you're a sinner, just like me".

charlie bit his lip and looked in the mirror again. long black hair falling on her back in cascades and her perfect ass exposed only for him to see. his hands slowly travelled from her spine towards her arched lower back, and then he cupped her ass. she sighed, her hot breath tickling the skin on his jaw. charlie couldn't look away from the way y/n's back arched into his touch, and her head fell onto his shoulder.

"just like you, huh?" charlie chuckled lowly, his raspy voice sent a wave of arousal straight to her core. "or maybe, you're just a greedy little slut, ready to open her legs for me whenever i please?"

his words were followed by a sharp smack of his hand on her ass cheek, as she hissed loudly, devilish grin spreading on his face slowly. she stood on her tiptoes, brushing her nose against his, charlie's eyes fixated on her lips, as he smacked her ass again. this time, she whimpered. her eyes closed, body leaning into his touch, and a single moan left charlie's mouth at the sound of her.

with his hands still on y/n'a ass, he lifted her up easily, the bulge in his pants getting in contact with the thin material of her panties. charlie pressed her against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, as she challenged him with her eyes, the fire in his dark irises making her melt into his touch.

he closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time, and she moaned at the taste of him. he didn't rush, instead, he took his time to explore her mouth with his tongue, a strangled groan leaving his throat at the contact.

"you can deny it all you want, father", y/n's said breathlessly, but he didn't let her finish. his mouth was on her again, this time more demanding, intense and passionate, as he devoured her, soft, lewd sounds leaving both of their mouths, his fingers pressing into her soft thighs with enough force to leave bruises. "but you know i'm right. you might be a priest, but you're a really sinful one", she finished, charlie's mouth trailing kisses down her neck. y/n's eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall behind her.

obscene sound left charlie's mouth, her skin soft, and he carried y/n to her bed. she gasped in surprise as her back hit her soft, satin sheets; charlie standing in the foot of the bed, his eyes hungrily taking in the view in front of him.

"you are not a sin to me", he voiced, and y/n held her breath. a sincere smile on her face, as she took in the view in front of her. charlie looked wrecked, his cheeks red, lips slightly swollen, hair messy, a little smile adoring his face just right.

regret washed over her chest just for a moment, god is always watching. but as soon as father charlie fell to his knees, his hands pulling her to the edge of the bed with a swift move, her mind went blank.

he spread her legs wide, fingers pressing into her plush thighs, and he moaned at the sight of her. she was leaning back on her forearms, hair messed up, lips parted as she breathed heavily, and she let her hand touch his cheek softly, until her thumb met his mouth. charlie parted his lips, his heart thudding in his chest, his tongue reaching out to lick her finger.

y/n sat on the bed, her boobs now right in front of his face, as she inserted the finger into his mouth. they moaned in unison, and charlie's eyes fluttered shut, mouth closing around her thumb, sucking, licking and lightly biting at it.

her body shook as she watched the obscene scene, wetness coating her panties as his fingers dig deeper into her thighs, and yet another moan left charlie's mouth.

when y/n's thumb slipped out of his mouth with a "pop", he opened his eyes. he looked up at her desperately, and she smiled, her hand now resting on the back of his head, as she tugged at his hair roughly. charlie's brows furrowed, whimper left his mouth, his throat now on full display for her hungry eyes.

he got up from his knees as she gestured him to do so, and she led him to lay down on her bed, mouth immediately finding his, the hunger getting unbearable. charlie bit her lower lip, pulling at it, drawing blood from the little cut of his sharp teeth.

he greedily lapped at the red substance, the metallic taste making him moan into her mouth, as his hips thrusted into the air with shameless desperation.

y/n's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and she undid them with surprising precision, her mouth finding his hard chest as soon as he took the unwanted material from his body.

"you're such a slut", he groaned as she sucked at his nipple, a simple tug at her long hair making her moan shamelessly. he smiled devilishly at the feeling of her tongue swirling against the hard bud, and he tilted his head back, hair falling onto his sweaty face.

"givin' god a show, aren't you? what would he think if he saw you? so greedy to please your priest, 's embarrassing, really", he mumbled, putting her hair into a makeshift ponytail as her mouth got closer and closer to the bulge in his pants.

unable to take it no more, charlie flipped them over so that he was towering over her, his gold cross necklace hanging in front of her face. he tore the bra off her chest, his fingers immediately pulling at the soft skin of her boobs, fingers twisting at her nipples with newfound confidence and roughness. y/n whimpered his name softly, back arching into his chest, her lips already in search of his own.

charlie spread her legs open, fingers tugging at her panties, and she let him take them off her body. her cunt now exposed, his hungry eyes taking in the sight of her perfect body, and he cursed, mouth falling open at the sight of her wet pussy.

"you're so fucking disgusting", he exclaimed, rough hands travelling down her body, down her hips, thighs, and finally reaching the place where she needed him the most. "getting all wet for your priest. don't you feel ashamed?" he asked rhetorically, fingers brushing over her puffy folds, and she squealed as he toyed with her clit, pressing tight circles into it. y/n whined, her hands on his back, pressing into his wounds with enough force to draw blood. charlie hissed, and suddenly two of his his fingers slipped inside her clenching cunt.

"you're so tight", he almost whimpered, the clenching of her cunt on his fingers making it really hard for him to control the urge to straight up fuck her. "how am i supposed fit in here, hmm?"

he withdrew his fingers out of her pussy, only to force them in with an aggression that had y/n clenching even harder around him. charlie pressed his hot mouth against hers again, and she was unable to kiss him back, her mouth falling open, and charlie laughed, moving inside of her slowly.

"you won't ever be touched by another man again", he hissed with such venom that her eyes fell open, vision blurring from the feeling of slow thrusts of his fingers inside her wet pussy. "you", thrust. "are", thrust, "mine", thrust, and he moved at a rapid speed now, keeping eye contact with her, and she cried out, nodding her head mindlessly. "mine to worship. mine to cherish. mine to fuck", his thumb found her clit, and she was oh so close. she cried out, and he gave her a dirty, open mouthed smirk, his thrusts never slowing. charlie's head leaned down, and his lips found her perky nipple, closing around it, swirling his tongue swiftly, matching the pace of his fingers inside of her.

"oh my god, please", she let out, eyes finally flattering shut, back arching into his mouth, and he tutted, his mouth and fingers leaving her body altogether.

she cried out in protest, but before she could speak up, he tugged at her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, her lips pouting. "if you want to cum, you have to beg for it, like the desperate little slut you are" the vulgar words leaving his mouth making y/n nod her head desperately, the grasp on her jaw making it hard to move.

charlie smiled at the pathetic look in her eyes, and freed her face.

"i'm sorry, charlie. please, touch me again. i need you. i crave for you━ fuck, please", y/n begged, and he obeyed, cruel look in his eyes as his hand travelled down her heaving chest, down her stomach and finally reaching its destination.

charlie's fingers pushed into her tight cunt again, and she muttered a quiet "thank you", her hands finding his shoulders for balance, as his fingers disappeared into her over and over again, and she cried out, tears of pleasure coating her waterline.

"yeah, just like that, charlie, please", she welled, holding him close, the intense feeling in her lower stomach different from anything she's ever experienced, and her eyes fell open. "charlie..."

he pressed her body into his with a single tug at her hip, pressing open open mouthed kisses on her neck, tongue darting out to taste at her sweet skin, teeth biting at every ounce of her body he could reach.

"it's okay, pretty girl", he whispered, fingers pressing into her g point again and again, her tight cunt spasming in a way that had him throbbing in the tightness of his pants. "make a mess for me", that was the confirmation she needed, as she let go, transparent liquid gushing out of her cunt with every withdraw of his fingers. slowly wetting his hand, pants, the insides of her thighs and the velvet sheets under them.

she tried to get away from his tight grasp, but he held her down with his other hand, and his nose pressed into her hair, breathing her in slowly, whispering sweet nothings as she came down from her high.

she gasped in relief as his thick fingers left her pulsing walls, and he tapped them on y/n's lower lip.

"suck them clean for me", charlie cooed, and her mouth took him in gladly, swirling her tongue around his fingers, and then sucked them in until they hit the back of her throat.

"just like that, just like that" he groaned, fucking her mouth with his digits, and she gagged, her pussy starting to tingle yet again.

"i want to see you cumming on my cock", charlie exclaimed, struggling with the button of his pants, and y/n helped him, pushing them down along with his boxers.

her mouth fucking opened at the sight of his cock, the view so astonishingly beautiful and overwhelming, gasp leaving her parted lips, and he just laughed as if it was nothing.

y/n thought it was unreal, that he was unreal, his whole body belonging in a museum. before he had the time to react, she flipped them over and straddled his hips, fingers scratching at his chest.

"you are so fucking hot", y/n breathed out as she slowly rubbed her clit on his hard cock, and charlie's eyes rolled back, fingers digging into the reddened skin of her ass. "i can't control myself around you. you drive me fucking crazy, charlie", y/n almost cried out, the desperation in her voice driving charlie crazy. her moves slow and sensual, her moves snake-like, long nails digging into his skin.

"stop teasing me, y/n. come on, let's give god a show, shall we?", charlie's voice strangled as he chuckled lowly, and y/n smiled cruelly, her lips wandering around his neck, collarbones and chest, biting at his soft skin, moaning at the taste of his blood.

"what would god say if he saw you like this? giving into the temptation, betraying his trust and the church you work in, hmm?" she mumbled, teeth grazing over the gold cross sitting prettily on his chest, and charlie hissed, eyes meeting hers again, her movements on his cock getting harder and needier.

"you are the best thing that's happened to me, ever", charlie whispered wholeheartedly and reached for his cock, giving it a few pumps before sliding into y/n's tight cunt, moans filling the thick air around them as she clenched on his tip uncontrollably.

"you are so big, my god", a single tear ran down her cheek, charlie's thumb wiping it in an instant. "you wanted it, so fucking take it".

as the words left his mouth, he snapped his hips up and she fell forward, his whole length stretching her out like nothing she's ever experienced. he throbbed inside of her, and a satisfied moan left his mouth at the wetness and warmness of her insides.

y/n clinged to him, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest, fingers squeezing on his strong arms. the feeling of his body against her own made her lightheaded, and she whimpered into his neck.

"i'm never letting you go", he exclaimed, and her eyes found his as she began riding his cock slowly, the stretch deliciously painful. "you are mine. now and forever. fuck, ride me just like that" charlie breathed out, the rasp in his voice making her more desperate, as she took all of him inside over and over again, hands pressing into his chest, head lulling back.

the rhythm she set was driving charlie insane as she watched her with half lidded eyes, shameless moans leaving his mouth at the sight of her perky tits bouncing right on his face. he looked down at the place where they connected. the slow movements of her hips allowed him to see the wetness coating his dick as she slid down on him again, and she swore she could feel him in her throat from how big he was.

"you're my match made in hell", she moaned and pressed herself against him again, fingers tugging at his messy hair, nose pressing against his. in the moment the atmosphere changed, and his eyes softened just for a moment, smile adoring his face as he tugged at her long hair, and his hips rising up from the bed, meeting hers. he started thrusting into her, fast and hard, her ass snapping against his thighs again and again. charlie's hands gripped at her waist tightly as he lifted her up just barely, the slight change of angle allowing him to move at a rapid speed. y/n cried out, not having any control of her body as he manhandled her. desperately, she smashed her lips against his, charlie's tongue entering her mouth instantly, and he moaned at the taste of her, and he thrusted again, again and again.

"i want to cum with you, charlie", she whispered, tears coating her face, smudged makeup making her look even more beautiful for him, as he bottomed out fully.

she welled when her cock left her, and the next second she was on her knees, facing the mirror in an instant. her eyes widened at the sight of herself, completely ruined and fucked up just for him to see. then she looked at charlie, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, as he pumped his cock behind her, the veins on his arms showing. "god, help me. you are gonna be the death of me", he hissed, his thick cock throbbing in his tight grasp. y/n backed herself against him, signalling that she wanted, no, she needed more.

"please, no more teasing," she begged, reaching for his cock behind her, but charlie was quick to stop her, smacking her hand away, as he aligned himself against her used hole once again.

"look at me", he whispered into her ear as his girthy length pressed into her tightness again, and she did, her head lulling back against his shoulder. he slowly moved in and out, every thrust precise, his soulless eyes staring into hers in the mirror, the sight making her clench around him. "you're fucking ruined for me, my beautiful girl, makin' me feel so good", he cooed, one hand landing on her lower back, pushing her upper body down onto the bed, the arch he created letting him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. y/n cried out, his movements still teasing and unbearably slow, and her hips trying to buck back into him. charlie groaned with disapproval, his hand yanking at her hair roughly, her ass pressing tightly against his lower stomach.

"stop. fucking. moving", he hissed, voice like venom, and she nodded her head furiously, "i'm sorry" leaving her mouth over and over again like a prayer. her hand reached back to tangle itself in his messy hair, and she looked up at him, his eyes half-closed as he kept thrusting into her, and he let go of her hair only to wrap his fingers around her neck, pressing onto her pulse tightly. y/n cried out, and charlie's other hand held her jaw open slightly.

"open your mouth for me, just like that", he praised, y/n mouth fell open at the command, tongue lolling out of her mouth without a thought. and when he spit into her mouth, keeping eye contact with her during the vulgar act, thrusting into her harder than ever, she swore she could see stars. y/n swallowed his spit quickly, shameless moan leaving her mouth at the feeling of warm liquid, and in that moment she felt so deeply connected with him, and her eyes softened, heart aching for him as she got closer and closer to her climax.

"charlie, i'm gonna cum", y/n's voice came out strangled, his hand on her neck making it hard for her to breathe. her hands tugging at his own in search of closeness, and he took her hands into his much bigger ones, a single thrust of his hips making her fall down onto the bed again. he held her hands down on her lower back, his throbbing cock ruining her insides, and she screamed, burying her head into the sheets, finally falling over the edge.

y/n clenched around him, making it hard for him to move, and charlie hissed, letting go of her hands as he thrusted into her slowly, fucking her through her orgasm. he held back a whine threatening to leave his throat, dick twitching in search of release as she came down from her own, crying into the sheets.

"you're doing so good for me, y/n. i'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, and you're gonna let me, yeah?" his chest pressed against hers, and she was unable to reply, overstimulated and spent, his cock kissing her g spot repeatedly. charlie grabbed her chin, pressing his lips against hers, slowly and passionately, as he gripped at her ass and moaned, balls pressing into her clit as he clinged to her, finally letting go.

charlie whimpered into y/n's mouth as he came, painting her inner walls white with his cum, marking her as his for life. his body shook slightly, and she whined softly, the feeling of his cock filling her up immaculate.

charlie broke the kiss, pressing his face into the back of her neck tightly, his cock never softening inside of her, even after the soul crashing orgasm he just experienced. she smiled, the moment so important to her, and she reached out to run her fingers through his wet hair, and she's never felt more safe in her life.

after a few seconds charlie got up, his whole body tense as his throbbing cock left her spent hole. she whined at the loss, and then turned around to face him, barely being able to move, face flushed and covered in tears.

even though she had no energy left inside of her, the sight of his pretty cock, standing tall and proud in the air, covered in both of their releases, woke up something inside of her.

"lay down for me", she whispered, fingers brushing against his cheek softly, and he nodded, his scarred back pressing against the sheets again.

"your cock 's so pretty", y/n wrapped her hand around him, eyes filled with adoration, and charlie's eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, his head falling back involuntarily.

"holy shit, baby", he whimpered and let his hands roam against her thighs as she kneeled beside him. "'s too much", he cried out, submitting to her completely, the pain from overstimulation adding to his pleasure.

y/n cooed, and she leaned down, kitten licking at his tip, moaning at the taste of his pearly cum. "god, you taste so fucking good. i need your cum down my throat", she exclaimed, taking his tip into her mouth, and his hips thrusted wildly. y/n gagged, her desperate moan vibrating against his shaft, and he held her hair in a tight grasp, groan leaving his throat.

"you're perfect, god. where have you been all my life? holy shit━ i need this so fucking bad", charlie mumbled nonsense as y/n took him into her mouth fully, throat contracting against him, and he had to bit at his lip to physically stop himself from crying out. y/n's soft hands caressed his hips, and she sucked and licked at his pink tip as if he was a lollipop, her eyes falling open just to focus on his pretty face.

"i'm coming. god, i'm coming, please" charlie whined, and she nodded, sucking at his leaking tip with desperation, his cock twitching weakly as he thrusted into her mouth. warm cum filled her mouth, and she kept on sucking him dry as he came down, his body shaking terribly, endless moans leaving his mouth.

softly pulling away from his now softening cock, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing all of his heavenly cum, her throat sore.

she let herself fall next to him on the bed, his hands pulling at her soft skin with a need of closeness. he wrapped a protective arm around her shaking body, her head resting against his chest comfortably.

"you know, i meant everything i said", she said after a few minutes, tracing circles on his broad chest, smile never leaving her face.

"i know, baby. i know" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as she melted into him. "i meant everything too. you are so precious to me, so special", he whispered softly, warmness spreading across his body as he thought about the things they could achieve together, how she could help him with what he was planning.

and he wondered if her soul was as wounded as his own. the sickness of his mind, was she really ready to accept him just as he was? she won't have no choice, he thought, because she will be mine forever. no matter what it takes.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader

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ellecdc · 8 months ago

Note

hi!! i saw that you had your request open and i was thinking maybe poly! marauders + lily taking out (or asking) reader on a first date? i think it would be cute.

i read your last fic on them and i loved how you wrote for them! also i just want to say i love your writing!!

poor shy reader - thoughts and prayers fr

marauders + lily x shy!reader who go on a date

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

CW: continuation from this fic, fem!reader is in Hufflepuff, some nerves/anxiety, fluff

You’ve made a mistake.

You’ve made a mistake and think it might be too late to do anything.

“Are you almost ready? The Gryffindor’s bullied a first year into letting them into the common room and now they’re downstairs waiting for you.” One of your roommates advised you in a bored tone as she moved to sit on her bed.

You’ve made a mistake.

“Can you tell them I’m poorly or something?” You begged; tone inlaid with a shrill quality you tried to clear away. “I can’t do this.”

She looked at you like you had grown three heads. “What? You can’t go on a date with four of the hottest people in our year? Get a grip.”

“Please.” You tried again.

“I’m not a bloody owl, L/N.” She spat as she opened up a magazine, effectively shutting you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again; the fourth outfit you tried on for your date with the four Gryffindor’s you’d stupidly agreed to while still sat in Remus’ lap at the Gryffindor party where you’d actually sodding kissed Lily Evans.

You’ve made a mistake.

“Hey gorgeous.” You heard at your dorm room door, causing your room mate to groan dramatically as she fell backwards on her bed.

Lily’s auburn eyebrows furrowed at her before her eyes flit back to you; any tension immediately melting into a look far too soft to be for you. “Are you ready to go?”

No.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time; you were about to be escorted to Hogsmeade by the most beautiful people to grace the halls of Hogwarts arguably ever and you couldn’t help but feel entirely too plain.

Lily breathed out a chuckled through her nose and moved to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as she moved a lock of your hair behind your shoulder. “As much as I too would love to sit here and admire your reflection, I’m afraid it’s not wise to leave the boys alone unattended for too long.” She murmured as she pressed a kiss to your cheek.

They were going to be the death of you.

As if punctuating the end of Lily’s sentence and your thoughts, you heard a faint popping sound from the common room and the sound of chuckling.

“We ought to go.” Lily said, casually (for her…not for you) taking your hand and all but dragging you out of your room.

When you got downstairs, it was to the sight of first year Hufflepuffs glaring as menacingly as first year Hufflepuffs could as they all marched past the Marauders.

“What did you boys do now?” Lily chided playfully as they all turned to see you.

Their mischievous smiles quickly turned soft and sweet as they took you in.

“Oh my gods!” James exclaimed as he stepped towards the two of you. “My sweet Lily flower, where did you find this angel?”

Your gaze dropped immediately to your feet as Lily - the traitor - moved away from your side to stand near Remus.

“I’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven but, I don’t see a single imperfection, Gorgeous.” Sirius continued.

You huffed and crossed your arms as you looked across the room to see the first years still glaring at the group of you as they shed their - quite ashey - robes.

“Erm, why are the first years shaking ash off their robes?” You asked cautiously.

As if they had only just remembered that they’d been causing mischief a mere few moments ago, James and Sirius stepped into action.

“Oh right!” James said with an awkward laugh. “We, uhm, we should get going.”

And before you could ask any follow up questions (or ask to reschedule, perhaps), you had Sirius on one of your arms and James on the other and were being ushered from the Hufflepuff common room.

Helga help me.

The other four did most of the talking on your walk to Hogsmeade, which you were eternally grateful for. But you were now standing in line at Zonko’s - to which the boys insisted they go and Lily had left it up to you and…well…have you seen those boys? How were you expected to say no? - and you felt like every other student’s eyes were on you.

What is she doing with them? You could imagine them snickering to each other.

Think this is one of their pranks? Their friends would respond.

Evans usually isn’t the type but… it could be funny to watch anyhow.

Your body was itchy and your skin felt hot; you needed to get out of the store.

“Hey.” James murmured quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder as his body created a barrier between you and the other patrons of the store; strong arms wrapping protectively around your front as the other three pretended not to notice. “I think we lost you there for a second; you okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting your voice not to betray your anxiety.

“Do you regret agreeing to come out with us?” He asked quietly; no ire or contempt detected in his voice. He truly was just trying to check in and make sure you were okay.

“No.” You responded firmly, quickly. Clearing your throat and responding again. “No, I don’t.”

You could feel James smile as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “We’re almost done here and then we can go wherever you want.” He promised; and though that had been the end of the conversation, he stayed glued (what certainly felt like possessively) to your side until you had all exited the joke shop and stood on the cobble stoned roads of Hogsmeade.

“So where do you wanna go, Princess?” Sirius asked as everyone paused to face you in a semi-circle.

For the ground to swallow me up, maybe?

“Erm, I…I’m not sure, I didn’t…really think about it.” You admitted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to shield yourself from your dates’ gazes.

Sirius looked like he was going to make a teasing remark when Lily elbowed him.

“Do you like sweets? Why don’t we head to Honeydukes; Moony needs to restock his chocolate stash anyway.” James offered jovially, turning towards the direction of the sweets shop without waiting to see if anyone was following him.

Sirius winked at a blushing Remus as he and Lily followed James and Sirius offered you his hand.

“Come on; I’ll buy you a pack of those sugar quills you like.” He said as he swung your hands between the two of you playfully, slowly following your little group towards the shop.

“How d’you know I like sugar quills?” You asked quietly, earning you a snort from the black-haired boy.

“Do you know Lily’s favourite lolly flavour?”

You felt your cheeks heat but nodded. “Cherry.”

He made a quiet proud sound as he carried on. “And James? What does he like from Honeydukes?”

“Jelly Slugs - particularly the watermelon flavour.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement and bumped into you before continuing to swing your arms together. “And mine?” He asked; and if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of vulnerability in the notoriously cocky boy's voice.

You smiled up at him at that. “The Peppermint Toads.”

That caused him to beam at you, looking down at your lips before his brows furrowed slightly and he dropped his gaze shyly to his boots.

“And how do you know our favourite sweets?”

You grumbled and went to pull your hand away from him, but he held fast. “Because I’m a creepy tosser.”

He let out an offended scoff at that and pulled you over to him, tickling at your sides in punishment. “You are not a creepy tosser, you little minx!”

He relented his attack on your sides as you fought to catch your breath; staring up into his silver gaze in anticipation - for what? You weren’t sure.

“Is it because, perhaps, you fancy us?” He offered.

You lowered your head to his chest; embarrassed at being known, perceived, caught in your obvious affections for them - notwithstanding the fact that you’d actually accepted an invitation for a date with them which should have tipped them off anyways.

“So,” Sirius continued, resting his chin on top of your head and pulling you in tighter to his chest. “Shouldn’t we know the same of you if we were to fancy you?”

You sucked in a deep breath - definitely not savouring the smell of sandalwood and mint emanating from Sirius’ chest - and pulled away.

“It would have been quite brash of me to assume so many Gryffindor’s could possibly fancy me.” You admitted quietly as you carried on towards the shop where James was waiting rather impatiently as Lily tried to convince him to stand still.

“Then be brash, darling.” Sirius drawled. “‘Cause it’s true.”

“Don’t kill the poor thing before we’ve a chance to spoil her, Pads.” James called as Lily and Remus smiled at you.

“I’m not, I’m not.” Sirius grumbled as he swatted James’ arse and all but forced him into the store.

“Can’t believe you didn’t kiss her.” Lily hissed as they walked ahead of you and Remus.

“I was nervous!” You heard Sirius whisper back.

“Nervous!?” James and Lily bawked; you and Remus sharing a shy, awkward smile as you pretended you couldn’t hear them.

“Come with me.” Remus finally offered, motioning towards the wall of Chocolate Frogs with his head as he took your hand. “We’ll find them later.”

You and Remus walked through the aisles as he told you stories of Sirius, James, and Peter trying each and every one of the sweets (even the silly ones). Apparently, they learned Peter was allergic to earthworms due to an unfortunate selection of Berties Botts Every-Flavour Beans.

“How was that the thing that tipped him off? Did he never try picking one up as a kid?” You asked through a laugh.

“Right? What kid doesn’t spend time making mud pies and catching earthworms? We figured just for that, the sod almost deserved to go anaphylactic.” Remus joked with no real malice.

You approached a stand of sample chocolates that caught Remus’ eye.

“Hm, nutmeg Cauldron Cakes; that looks good.” You commented as you considered the pastries.

Remus’ mouth tipped up in a mischievous smile as he quickly picked up one of the small samples and held it in front of you.

“Open.”

You stared at him dumbly. “I…I’m sorry?”

His smirk only grew as he kept his eyes on your lips. “Open.” He instructed again.

Not willing to stand here with a pastry held in front of your face asking stupid questions any longer, you acquiesced and allowed Remus to feed you the pastry.

He moved, likely slower than necessary, and just as you went to close your mouth, he paused his movements and slowly slid his thumb between your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as he went.

You didn’t realise you’d been standing there in shock until he raised an expectant eyebrow at you, prompting you to chew the treat now sitting idly on your tongue.

“Good girl.”

Merlin’s fucking tits, he was going to make you choke.

Apparently you weren't the only one, if the sound of James’ strangled groan echoing from where he, Sirius, and Lily had been standing and staring at the two of you.

James looked like he couldn’t tell which of you he was most jealous of, Sirius stood staring with his eyebrows up near his hair line and his mouth wide open, and Lily watched with a knowing smirk adorning her face.

“Was it good?” James whispered over to you.

You nodded dumbly, looking up at Remus as if you were somehow asking for his agreement.

“Better let me confirm.” He murmured as he leaned down; one hand cradling the back of your head and the other tilting your chin up to meet his lips, though he stopped just before they connected.

You could feel the gentle puffs of Remus' breath hitting your lips from where your eyes were glued to his mouth. When it became obvious you were at a stalemate, your eyes flitted up to meet him.

His eyes were on yours as they danced with a mixture of mischief and questions.

Questions.

...“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”...

And you weren’t a Gryffindor; you weren’t brave or bold, nor were you daring. But dammit, you were a Hufflepuff; you had a propensity for hard work, and you could do hard things!

So, you let your eyes fall back to Remus’ lips before you closed the distance between you two.

You felt him smile into the kiss before he deepened it, finally pulling away with a pleased hum though he kept his hands on either side of your face.

“She wasn’t lying, Prongs; it was good.” He called over, gaze never leaving your face.

You heard what you could only imagine was Sirius’ boot stomping petulantly from his place as Lily barked a laugh at him. “I was this close to being the second one to kiss her!”

You dropped your head into Remus’ chest only for him to chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Better luck next time, Pads.” He taunted.

You officially knew your suspicions were correct: the Gryffindor’s really were trying to kill you.

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bluetimeombre · 4 months ago

Text

You, Oscar and Hugh

You and Hugh have stared in the most talked about movie of the year, so, for the biggest night in Hollywood, the two of you are all people can talk about.

[based on the request for oscars night. I had so much fun writing this!!!! genuinely, how Hugh didn't even get a nomination for Logan is a crime! I'm working on another request for Logan and I've got like dozens of drafts but I loved this and wanted to get it out, I hope you enjoy!]

The Oscars- Hollwood's most prestigious event. Neither Hugh, nor you were strangers to the hall. Hugh had not only been nominated but even hosted and you had been nominated and performed.

But this was new. Both of you had worked hard for your nominations. You and Hugh had been on opposite ends, he was the X-man, the Wolverine while you had been staring in Marvel movies since the very beginning, a friendly rivalry becoming of the two of you which came to fruition when you both stared in 'Deadpool and Wolverine.'

Now, the two of you were in the drama everyone had been talking about- mainly because it featured the hollywood couple. Hugh was nominated for best supporting actor while you had a nomination for best actress in a leading rule.

The camera's flashed as Hugh walked the carpet, alone. Everyone noted that fact. They'd assumed you would be on his arm but there was no sign of you.

He followed his agent as he led him to the row of interviewer's calling his name.

'First of all, I wanted to say congratulations on your nomination, your second nomination!' said the interviewer.

Hugh was all smiles, dapper in his sleek black suit and tie. 'Thank you, man, thank you.'

'So, what's going through your head at a time like this?'

'Honestly, not a lot. There's- there's almost too much to think about that I can't think of anything at all,' he chuckled.

'Are you proud of this movie?' he asked.

'I've never been prouder of a project before, and there's so many reasons why. Maybe that's obvious,' he grinned, thinking of one reason he was incredibly happy to be celebrating this movie. 'Not only does it touch on subjects that need to be touched on more, but we had an incredible direction, an amazing writing team and the rest of the cast.'

The interviewer gave him a knowing smile. 'By cast, are we-'

He didn't even have to finish before Hugh was closing his eyes and nodding. 'Oh yeah.'

Almost as if that was a cue, the yelling and flashing of the camera's intensified as many people turned to look.

'Oh, who's here?' asked Hugh, peaking over peoples heads until he saw. 'Oh.'

You stepped out the car like a star from old hollywood as you waved at the cameras and gave them your dazzling smile. You, like him, were dressed all in sleek black, looking effortlessly beautiful as you took to the carpet.

'There she is, the woman of the hour!' cheered the interviewer.

'Of every hour,' said Hugh, the microphone just picking it up. 'Pleasure to talk to you, man.' He hardly waited for a reply before he was making his way as casually as possible across the carpet to you.

You couldn't hear anything over the yelling, or see much over the flashing lights. All you could do is pose as your agent told you to and smile at the right direction.

You were led away but heard your voice be called from a corner. With a grin, you hurried over to Guillermo, the best part of Jimmy Kimmel shows. 'Hello handsome,' you winked, joining him quickly.

'Hello!' said Guillermo. 'Do you want a shot?'

You laugh. 'Do I want a shot- what? A shot of vodka?'

'We can do vodka,' he said, already prepping the shots.

'Let's do it, why not?'

Together, you take a shot and the camera focuses on you squinting and coughing. 'That was tequila.'

'Oh, sorry.'

'No, I loved it. I love you Guillermo!' you call as you slowly walk away.

Any other celebrity might have wondered why the crowd suddenly got louder, why camera's shifted. But they would've seen Hugh approach you in long strides, would've witnessed your grin as his arms wrapped around your back, careful not to ruin your dress.

They would have wondered what he was saying to you as he held your arms, soothing his thumb over the skin. They would've seen the simmer in your eyes and the way his arm slid around your waist effortlessly. You leant into him and the two of you posed for few pictures, offering them like rare jewels.

You and Hugh had never made it official, whatever it was between the two of you. But everyone knew what it was without words. There was only one word to describe the way Hugh looked at you. But you kept it private, he was some twenty years older and not long out of a marriage. Fans had watched you go from co-stars to friends to possibly (almost definitely) lovers. And they loved any crumbs you'd offer them.

The two of you did little interviews, only really stopping to talk to Amelia Dimoldenberg.

'Wait, the two of you are each other's dates?' she gasped.

'Amelia, I literally sent you an email asking to be my date,' you said. 'I didn't get a reply.'

Hugh stood back, looking between the two of you. 'You asked her, but I asked her first.'

Eventually, the two of you made it into the hall, sitting with the rest of your cast and crew for your movie. You all get situated, smiling and greeting any other friends.

Hugh and you were sat next to each other, something every camera in the room ate up. Since the rumours had started, you'd been all the people could talk about, and they'd be making stories of this for years. They snapped every shot of Hugh watching you talk, arm around the back of your chair, smiling and brushing parts of your hair away. Or how you'd reach out to brush his jacket or straighten his tie.

You couldn't keep your hands off each other.

Finally, the event started and the camera's were zoomed in on you and Hugh, which you didn't trust.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, Hollywood's greatest please welcome your host, Hollywood's worst... Ryan Reynolds!'

Everyone cheered but you and Hugh who's jaws dropped. People laughed at your reactions as you watched him walk out on stage, no less, in an 'I am a child of divorce.' and a picture of you and Hugh at the bottom.

Ryan waved at the two of you as everyone settled. You hid your face from laughing while Hugh was glaring playfully. 'Yeah! I know right! Who's Oscar did I have to shine to get my very own hosting gig! Wasn't yours Jackman, as you've never got one, you know?'

The crowd chuckled.

'And looks like you'll be getting one for, yep, let me check, contribution. Hey, win some you lose some, Wolvie.'

You were still chuckling loudly, the camera never leaving your reactions as the actors and crew laughed at you. So, you sat through Ryan's opening monologue as he spoke about each film individually, most with jokes, and most about how he nor Dogpool were nominated.

'Now, my good friends, well, what I like to call my parents, are both nominated for their movie. Yes, applause, please, they're very fragile,' said Ryan. 'Y/n plays a strong, confident woman who is only ever knocked down by Hugh's character and charm. But enough about what they get up to in the bedroom- this film-' Ryan halted, waiting for you and Hugh to stop playfully smirking at him and for the crowd to stop chuckling. He gave it a few serious words, before letting the rest of the ceremony play out.

You and Hugh were called out several times. When Halle Berry came out to present and gave Hugh a flirtatious wink that you gave back to her, blowing her a kiss.

When your friend Emma Stone tried to get you up to dance and you had to awkwardly shake your head.

Or when Hugh took to the stage, getting ready to take over hosting and you came up to drag him off as a joke.

When best supporting actor came up, they had last years best actress winner- Emma Stone- read out the names.

Hugh smiled and clapped when appropriate, but you seemed more nervous for him. A hand on his thigh, the other biting your nails. He was holding your leg, stopping your jerking knee.

'And the winner for best supporting actor, goes to... Hugh Jackman!'

The crowd erupted, but nobody as loud as you. You were on your feet before Hugh, arms thrown in the air as you cheer and clap.

Hugh's eyes, though he knew should be on the stage, fell to you as he pulled you in for a hug.

'I'm so proud of you!' you yell into his ear.

Hugh kissed your cheek, your temple, your hair, anything he can. Still hugging you, he reaches out behind you to shake hands with the director.

You pull away, kissing the back of his hand as he kisses your cheek again before rushing up to accept the award with a grin and a pep in his step.

He hugs Emma and offers her a polite kiss before taking to the microphone. 'Thank you! Thank you very much, everyone,' he says as they slowly stop clapping. They take their seats as he catches the director handing you tissues.

Hugh reaches into his pocket, taking out a piece of paper. 'I wrote this in 2013 but never got to use it, so excuse me if I just change the title of the film,' he joked as everyone chuckled. 'First, I want to thank the academy for this award. To the director, who had such an eye for art in this film, to the amazing writers for telling a story that needs to be told and should've been told a long time ago. It is because of your amazing work I am able to stand here and take only a fraction of the credit. To my agent, who thanks for getting me this job.

'To my children, I love you so much. I hope you think dad's a little cooler now. To my mum, whom I love and know is watching this at home. And to my dad, who I miss every day but I know... I know is here,' he choaks on the words as you watch, knowing you smudged your make up. Hugh turned to look at you and not the room, smiling through tears.

'And to you, my love, my reason for everything I do. You are the real heart of this movie, and you are my heart. My one and only. This is your award as much as mine. And I am yours. I love you so much, so, so much. I could stand up here and talk for hours about how much I love you, but I won't because I want to sit where you are and watch you win yours. I love you! Thank you!'

He holds up the award and blows you a kiss before walking off the side of stage.

You knew the camera was on you as you stood up again and cheered, a tear down your cheek.

Ryan walked back out on stage, this time, dressed in a cosplay of the iconic Wolverine suit. They all laughed. 'Gee, Hugh, thanks. I-I love you to.'

There was an award or two and a break before Hugh was rushing back to you all.

You leapt in his arms as he cradled you close, handing his oscar to the director. His hands roamed your back, fingers bruising the skin there as he kissed your shoulder and neck. 'God, I can't believe it, I am so proud of you, baby.'

Hugh pulled back, looking down at you. 'I love you. I love you so much.' he pecked your head. He wouldn't kiss you, you guys had a plan for the camera's to get that.

Not long after you'd taken your seats, the nominations for best actress in a leading roll were led out by Robert Downy jr.

Hugh held onto you tightly, tighter than you had him. It wouldn't feel right if he walked home with one when you, the real star, didn't. But you couldn't care, you were more than happy to sit with Hugh for the rest of the night, for the rest of your life.

'And the oscar, goes to...' Robert trailed off, opening the envelope and taking his time. He took in a deep breath. 'Oh, my lovely dear, get up here. Y/N!'

Just as they had for Hugh, everyone around you cheers. Your first instinct is to lean forward, holding your head in your hands and hiding as Hugh hugs you, pulling your body into his and yelling in glee. Finally, you pull back and hug the director, keeping a hold on Hugh's hand, you say things to the writers before turning and throwing an arm around Hugh's neck.

You're still gripping his hand as he helps you to the stage, you trembling so much you dare not go without support. He kisses your hand and hugs you once more before leaving you to walk up the stage. The cheers grow louder as you greet Robert.

The man was like your father, after staring in how many Marvel movies together. He hugged you tightly, smiling at you and bowing to present you with the oscar.

You approached the microphone, tears in your eyes as you did and everyone clapped. You waited until you could hear a pin drop until you took a deep breath. 'This is stressful as shit,' the people laugh. 'Oh my- thank you! Everyone! Thank you Robert! To all the other amazing, talented and intelligent nominees, I give a piece of this oscar to you all cause you were all amazing, truly!' you celebrate.

'Thank you to the director, to the writers, the cast, the crew. This story meant so much to me but more to all of you and you worked incredibly hard every day, your talent aspired me to work harder and thank you cause now I got one of these,' you show them the oscar, laughing. The crowd chuckle with you.

The camera cuts to Hugh, who watches you with stars in his eyes, reflecting in a pool of his tears.

'Oh god, who else. My agent, thank you. I appreciate it. Um, thanks to me I guess for being a good actress,' you shrug as the room laughs. 'I should probably thank Ryan or he'll force Hugh to do another Wolverine. Hugh,' you focus on him as the crowd chuckles. 'I am so in love with you. I didn't think a heart was capable of beating with so much love but it does- mine does- for you. All time. I love you more than words can describe, more than the whole sky. Thank you all! Thank you!'

Just as Hugh had, you head off to the stage, taking Roberts hand as he smiles and kisses your temple before leading you off.

Backstage, you and Hugh took to doing the interview together. They clapped as you appeared, hand in hand. Both of you looked dishevelled. Your hairs messy, Hugh's collar tugged and your dress crinkled at the end. Your lipstick was smudged too but you still managed some class. While Hugh looked like he'd been laid for the first time.

Still, you held onto each other with one hand and your oscars with the other.

'Hello!' greeted Hugh.

You giggled, hiding your face as Hugh coax's you to stand up, but laughs with you.

Many serious questions were asked as you and Hugh tried your best to pay attention.

'Y/N you looked great tonight, I just want to know what was the process of getting to look so good?' a man asked.

You chuckled, thinking about it as Hugh hid his grin, watching you. 'The process was... um... I took a shower, shaved just in case, you know, I got lucky tonight,' you nudged your hips with Hugh's smirking, 'I raided my friends wardrobe, found this old thing, it fit thank god. And um, yeah?'

Hugh barked a laugh as the crowd laughed at your antics, you having to bend over to laugh with him. Finally, he straightened up, wiping tears from his eyes. 'Sorry, what a night.'

'What a night,' you agreed. 'We've been celebrating so.'

The crowd again laugh, guessing just how the two of you have been celebrating.

As best you can, you answer a couple more questions before you were swooped away to take pictures, Hugh's arm falling lower and lower down your back until it was reasting above your ass.

Some reporter wolf whistled as you guys went and Hugh gripped you, bending his head to kiss you. It wasn't how you'd planned, but he needed to kiss you. Sure, your lips had been all around him less than ten minutes ago, but it wasn't enough, was never enough.

The two of you took your pictures with best actor and supporting actress. All four of you posing together, when it came to just you and Hugh, the two of you were laughing messes as you angled your oscars to kiss like a kid would with barbies.

Then, Hugh wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and drew you in until he was kissing you, his lips moulding on yours, hand gripping you and camera's flashing.

The next day, Ryan was wearing a shirt of that iconic shot.

taglist (thank you!): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory, @wolfyychan, @chaimshelii,

#deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #x men #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman wolverine #deadpool wolverine #deapool and wolverine #james logan howlett

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thehauntedetheral · 5 months ago

Text

YANDERE ASSASIN

Requests are open !

• You and your husband has been married for 2 years now. And you were happy with each other.

• You are an accountant for a company while your husband is an engineer.

• You were like any other normal couple working, eating dinner together, going out on weekends, doing the usual day to day stuff.

• But one thing you didn't knew was that well your husband is an fake engineer who pretends to be one.

• In reality he is a most sought after assasin who is hired to kill top level people.

• The "I have to go out for two days for a project darling" is nothing but a excuse he gives you to go and kill his target in another state.

• Have guns hidden in various places in your shared home for " safety purpose ".

• One time you found one of his gun and asked him why is it here? "Hehe well darling the crime rate is increasing day by day I bought it for us for our safety I even have a legal licence for the gun." (Yes a licence for being an assasin)

• This is the same man who melts into your arms, follows you around the house like a puppy, looks at you like you hung the moon and stars and also the same man who doesn't miss his target even from miles and shoots them mercilessly.

• Hits all the target in a shooting game giving you a huge stuffed teddy bear while saying "Beginner's luck, baby."

• Yan vowed in the beginning phase of his job that he would never get married due to his job risk but you entered his life, made him break his vow as he asked you to marry him after falling so desperately in love with you. How couldn't he? You are just so damn perfect.

• You mentioned in a conversation to him casually how a co worker creeped you out by his staring. Boom from next day the co-worker now always avoids you like plague. (Because some unknown assasin threatened his life if he ever came near you)

• He has never been guilty in his life for killing people or having it as job but becomes guilty in a millisecond when he sees you sad thinking how bad of a husband I am? And to make all the clarifications clear you were not sad due to him you were just having your usual period mood swings. Because no way in hell this man would ever make you sad. Before making you cry he would shoot himself with his own gun.

• You both were watching an assasin movie on a weekend and you said how good looking and skilled that assasin the movie character is.

Meanwhile Yan's Mind : Control your self yan no need to be jealous you are better than that freaking stupid looking loser assasin. y/n just doesn't know. Control.

• Yan at a Halloween night comes home after shooting his target with a little blood on his clothes wearing his assasin black clothes and a gun in hand knowing full well that you are at your friend's house. Only to be surprised that you are at home throwing him a suprise Halloween party with others. You looking at him with a confused look as he stands on doorstep shocked.

Yan : Suprise baby!!! I came up dressed up as an assain that you liked in that movie. I hope you like it. (Saying with an akward smile while telling himself to not be so reckless next time)

Meanwhile the people at party who know the true Yan : 🧍‍♂️

• Is so damn protective of you due to his work line that whenever he leaves for days makes sure your friend stays with you and making sure you are safe through all the hidden cameras spread all over the house.

• He loves you a lot. He might be a deadly assasin to the whole world but he is just a normal engineer madly in love with you who just wants to devour you whole so no one else can have you.

• Reader to their friends : My husband won't ever hurt a fly.

Meanwhile Yan listening to this conversation: 🧍‍♂️

• When he is off duty he just spoils you with his cooking and spending all his time with you cuddling watching shows and just talking.

• Prays to god that you never found out about his true job afraid that you would get scared and leave him.

For more yandere reading :

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kiwriteswords · 10 days ago

Note

Hello could I please request a fic where maybe the team doesnt like reader at first?

Winning Over the Kids [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4.5k|| AN: Thank you for the request; I love seeing all of them come in <3 Feedback is also always welcomed! xx

Tags/Warnings: implied age-gap, reader is a forensic psychologist, no use of y/n, secret relationship, team dislikes reader at first, protective Hotch, no mention of Jack--so up to you if he exists or not lol, mirroring the Lo-Fi vibes with Kate Joyner/Hotch/Team, canon-typical themes, some fluff, team dynamics, established relationship

Sypnosis: When Erin Strauss contracts a forensic psychologist to work with the BAU Team, Aaron Hotchner isn't sure if he is more frustrated with the fact that they dislike you as their newest team member or as his secret girlfriend.

Aaron Hotchner had spent years mastering the art of control. His team relied on him to remain composed under pressure, a steady anchor in chaos. But when Erin Strauss informed him that she was contracting a forensic psychologist to assist the BAU, he felt his resolve stretch thin. Not because he doubted the decision—he knew you were exceptional—but because the team didn’t know the full story.

You were brilliant, sharp, and confident. You had risen through the ranks faster than most, your reputation built on precision and expertise. Yet, whispers of you being a “workaholic” and “cutthroat” followed you, a product of stereotypes surrounding young, successful women in high-stakes fields. Aaron had seen it before, but it infuriated him nonetheless, especially now that you were his… well, not officially, but close enough to feel the sting of those judgments on your behalf.

At the morning briefing, he broke the news. “The Bureau has decided to bring in a forensic psychologist to collaborate with us on our cases. She’ll be joining us starting tomorrow.”

Predictably, the room bristled.

“A shrink? Really?” Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “No offense, Hotch, but we kind of know how to read people.”

Emily Prentiss folded her arms. “Isn’t that the point of profiling? What does Strauss think we’ve been doing all this time?”

JJ added carefully, “Is this about our mental health? Are we supposed to… talk to her?”

Spencer Reid, ever the analyst, frowned. “I’ve read that forensic psychologists in consulting roles often critique operational dynamics. Could this be Strauss trying to monitor us?”

Aaron kept his face neutral, though he wanted to correct them all. You were nothing like what they imagined. “This isn’t about our capabilities. The psychologist has specific expertise in complex cases involving psychological manipulation. Her role is to supplement our efforts, not replace them.”

“Yeah, until she starts picking apart everything we do,” Derek muttered.

Aaron resisted the urge to snap. They didn’t know you yet. They didn’t see the meticulous care you put into every decision, or the softer moments when you let your guard down with him.

The next day, you arrived at Quantico with a polished confidence that turned heads. Ready to take on the next case, which was local to the BAU.

You greeted the team with a professional demeanor, offering a firm handshake and an easy smile. But the tension was palpable. The team’s skepticism hung in the air like a storm cloud, and Aaron felt his jaw tighten as he observed their guarded reactions.

Derek kept his distance, observing you with a critical eye. Emily was polite but cool, and even JJ seemed uncertain about how to approach you. Spencer avoided eye contact altogether. Rossi…well, Rossi seemed to sit back and take it all in.

“Let’s get to work,” Aaron said, more curtly than he intended, leading the group into the roundtable room.

You took a seat beside him, your notebook open and pen poised. “I’ve reviewed the case files,” you began, your voice steady and self-assured. “The unsub’s behavior suggests a deep-seated fear of abandonment, likely rooted in childhood trauma. But the escalation pattern indicates recent stressors. Have you explored potential triggers within the last six months?”

Reid blinked, clearly taken aback. “We—uh, we considered family dynamics, but we didn’t narrow the timeline that specifically.”

Your sharp gaze turned to him, not unkindly. “It’s worth revisiting. The timeline could give us a better idea of who influenced him most recently.”

Aaron noticed the way Reid shifted uncomfortably, and it grated on him. You were offering valuable insights, yet the team’s resistance was evident.

After the briefing, Derek muttered to Emily, loud enough for Aaron to hear, “Well, she doesn’t waste time, does she?”

Aaron’s patience wore thin. “Morgan, a word,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

In his office, Aaron shut the door and faced Derek. “What’s your problem with her?”

Derek raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t say anything she didn’t earn. She walks in here acting like she knows everything. What do you expect us to do—roll out the red carpet?”

“I expect you to treat her with the same respect you’d give any other professional,” Aaron snapped. “She’s here because she’s the best at what she does, and we need her expertise. Whatever preconceived notions you have, leave them at the door.”

Derek frowned but nodded. “Got it, Hotch.”

Aaron exhaled slowly after Derek left. He knew he couldn’t shield you completely, but it infuriated him that he had to watch you navigate the team’s cold reception.

That evening, after everyone had gone home, you found Aaron in his office. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, crossing your arms. “So, how bad was it?”

He looked up from his desk, his expression softening. “They’ll come around.”

You smirked, though your eyes held a flicker of vulnerability. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Aaron stood and walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to prove yourself to them. I know who you are, and eventually, they will too.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile breaking through. “Is that your way of saying you’re proud of me, Agent Hotchner?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Always.”

For a moment, the weight of the day lifted. Here, behind closed doors, you didn’t have to be the prodigy or the psychologist with a reputation. You were just you, and Aaron was fiercely determined to make sure the team saw that too—someday.

The next morning, as Aaron walked into Quantico, he noticed a huddle forming near Penelope’s desk. Derek, Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Penelope stood together, their voices low but animated. He had planned to keep walking, but a snippet of their conversation caught his attention.

“I’m telling you, I heard she’s impossible to work with,” Penelope whispered, her usual warmth absent.

“Yeah, and she’s already showing it,” Derek added. “Control issues, first day on the job.”

“So far, It’s just one case,” Emily said, though her tone was skeptical. “But she’s definitely… intense.”

“We don’t need someone analyzing us while we’re trying to profile an unsub,” JJ muttered.

“I don’t think she’s here for that,” Reid said hesitantly. “But… yeah, I’ve heard the whispers too.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened as he listened. He wanted to intervene, to defend you, but he bit his tongue. This wasn’t the time. Instead, he walked away, the sting of their words lingering. He felt almost betrayed. His team was usually better than this. They prided themselves on fairness, on seeing beyond the surface. But in this case, they were clinging to gossip and prejudice, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

When you arrived, you carried yourself with the same poise and determination Aaron admired. You greeted the team briefly, your no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place. “Let’s get to work,” you said, spreading the case files across the conference table.

Your approach was methodical and efficient, and though Aaron knew it was how you operated, he could see how it rubbed the team the wrong way. They weren’t used to outsiders, especially not ones who came in with your level of authority and expertise. But they were professionals, and they pushed their reservations aside as the case progressed.

Aaron watched you closely throughout the day. You were unflinching in your analysis, your insights sharp and accurate. When you spoke, your voice carried confidence, but he could sense the subtle edge in your tone—a shield you had learned to wield over years of proving yourself.

After the case briefing wrapped up, Aaron found you in one of the quieter corners of the office. You were reviewing your notes, your expression focused but unreadable.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice low.

You glanced up, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’m fine, Aaron. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “I’ve heard some of the things they’ve said,” he admitted. “They don’t know you, and they’re wrong. I’m sorry for how unwelcoming they’ve been.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You don’t have to apologize for them. I get it. They’re protective of their team, and I’m an outsider. It’ll take time.”

“It shouldn’t have to,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He softened, adding, “You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to them.”

Your smile widened, though there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes. “I’ve been proving myself my whole life, Aaron. This is nothing new. Besides, I’ve got you in my corner, right?”

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

For a moment, the weight of the day lifted, and he allowed himself to take comfort in your resilience. But as he returned to the team, he resolved to address their behavior. They needed to see you for who you truly were—and he wouldn’t rest until they did.

During the next case you assisted on, the tension had been simmering all day, and Aaron could feel it building like a storm. You had just delivered a sharp, insightful breakdown of the unsub’s likely behavior patterns, pointing out inconsistencies in the case file that had gone unnoticed. It was the kind of analysis that would have earned respect from anyone else, but not today. Not from this team, not yet.

The briefing room was quiet for a moment after you finished speaking. Emily exchanged a glance with Derek, and JJ tapped her pen against the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating.

“That’s… an interesting perspective,” Derek said, leaning back in his chair. His tone was polite, but Aaron caught the subtle edge, the unspoken doubt.

You didn’t falter. “It’s not just a perspective,” you replied, your voice calm and measured. “The data supports it. If you cross-reference the victimology with the geographic profile—”

“We get it,” Emily interrupted, her tone sharper than usual. “But we’ve been doing this a long time. We know how to read behavior.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened. He glanced at you, but your expression remained composed, even as he could see the faint tension in your posture. You nodded slightly, as if conceding the point, and continued reviewing the case files without another word.

The meeting wrapped soon after, but Aaron lingered behind, pretending to organize his notes. That’s when he heard it.

“I don’t know how much longer I can deal with her,” Emily muttered as the others gathered near the coffee station. “She’s so… clinical. It’s like she doesn’t even care about the victims, just the data.”

“She’s got control issues, for sure,” Derek added. “Like she’s got something to prove.”

JJ sighed. “Maybe Strauss sent her to micromanage us. I mean, why else would she be here? We’re already the best at what we do.”

Aaron slammed his folder shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. The team froze, turning to see him standing there, his expression dark and unreadable.

“Enough,” he said, his voice low but laced with unmistakable anger. He stepped toward them, his gaze sweeping over each of them. “I don’t know what’s more disappointing--your lack of professionalism or your willingness to tear someone down based on assumptions and gossip.”

The team exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke.

“You think she’s here to micromanage you? She’s here to help. And the fact that you can’t see the value in her insights says more about your egos than it does about her methods.”

“Hotch, we didn’t mean—” JJ started, but he cut her off.

“No,” he said firmly. “You did mean it. And if you spent half as much energy working with her as you do undermining her, we’d be a hell of a lot closer to catching this unsub.”

The room fell silent. Aaron rarely raised his voice, and when he did, it carried the weight of finality. He let the silence hang for a moment before he continued.

“She’s not here to prove herself to you. She’s already proven herself, time and time again. It’s time for you to rise to her level, not drag her down to yours.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he’d have to address this further later, but for now, he needed to find you. He wanted to make sure you were okay to remind you, in whatever small way he could, that he was still in your corner. Always.

Aaron Hotchner found you where he expected to: in one of the unused offices, deep in thought over the case files. You were perched on the edge of the desk, flipping through pages with a sharp focus that never failed to impress him. The tension he’d carried since leaving the briefing room eased slightly when he saw how calm you were.

You didn’t even look up when he stepped inside. “Didn’t expect you to find me so quickly,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I needed to check in. The team…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “They were out of line.”

That made you pause. You glanced up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Aaron, it’s fine,” you said, setting the file down. “I’ve been in this position before. People don’t like change, and they don’t like outsiders. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he replied, his voice firmer than he intended. “It’s not fair, and it’s not professional.”

You tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did when you were about to cut through the noise. “They don’t know, Aaron. About us.” Your tone was even, but there was a hint of something deeper there--not accusation, just acknowledgment.

He stiffened slightly, but nodded. “They don’t. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. For now.”

You let out a quiet hum, leaning back on your hands. “For now, sure. But you should think about it. They’re already questioning why you’re defending me. If they find out later that it’s because we’re involved, it won’t sit well with them. They’ll feel like you’ve been hiding something important.”

“They’ll feel betrayed,” Aaron said, the weight of the truth settling over him.

You nodded, a small, knowing smile on your face. “Exactly. Look, I can handle their doubts, their gossip, whatever they want to throw at me. But you need to decide how long you want to keep this a secret. They’re your team. They’re loyal to you. But they also need to trust you.”

Aaron stepped further into the room, his expression softening as he regarded you. “You don’t care what they think of you, do you?”

“Not even a little,” you said with a shrug, your confidence steady. “I’ve spent years dealing with this kind of thing. It’s not new, and it doesn’t bother me. What does bother me,” you added, meeting his eyes, “is the idea of this coming out later and making things harder for you. Or for us.”

Aaron let out a slow breath, running a hand over the back of his neck. You were right, of course. You always were. He couldn’t keep this from his team forever, and things with you had grown too serious for him to pretend otherwise. He had never been one to let his personal life interfere with his work, but this was different. You were different.

“This is serious,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

You arched a brow, a teasing smile breaking through. “Wow, Aaron. Way to make a girl feel special.”

He stepped closer, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “You know what I mean. Things are serious between us. You’re not going anywhere, and neither is the team. I need to find a way to make this work.”

You softened, your hand brushing against his as he stood next to you. “You will. They’ll come around, Aaron. And if they don’t, well…” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting in a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

Aaron felt a warmth spread through him, a rare sense of peace in the midst of the chaos. You were right, as always. He would figure it out--not just because he had to, but because you were worth it.

And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that it would all work out.

Aaron Hotchner had always believed in leading by example. Transparency, fairness, and honesty were core tenets of how he ran his team, and they had rewarded him with loyalty and mutual respect. But as he stood in the conference room, waiting for his team to gather for an unscheduled meeting, he knew he had failed to uphold one of those principles.

The team filtered in, curiosity and unease written across their faces. JJ and Emily exchanged glances, Reid clutched his ever-present notebook, and Derek leaned against the edge of the table with his arms crossed. Penelope, usually lighthearted, looked slightly nervous. Rossi lingered at the back, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought.

When the door closed, Aaron cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “I asked you all here because there’s something I need to address—something I should have told you from the beginning.”

The team straightened, their collective focus sharpening. Aaron had their attention.

“You’ve all expressed concerns about having a forensic psychologist embedded in the team,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “You’ve questioned her presence, her methods, and, frankly, her character. Some of those comments have been professional disagreements, but others have crossed the line. I’ve let it continue longer than I should have, and for that, I take responsibility.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably while Morgan frowned. Reid’s brow furrowed in confusion, his pen tapping lightly against his notebook. Rossi, though silent, tilted his head slightly, a knowing look flickering across his face.

Aaron met each of their gazes in turn, his tone unwavering. “The reason I know she’s good at her job—why I trust her, and why I know she’s not here to spy on us or undermine our work—is because I’ve been seeing her outside of work. For a while now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Reid blinked rapidly, his pen freezing mid-air. JJ’s mouth opened slightly as if to speak, and Penelope let out a small, involuntary gasp. Derek sat up straighter, his brows furrowed in disbelief. Emily’s eyes widened, but she quickly masked her surprise. Rossi, however, didn’t look shocked at all. Instead, his lips quirked into the faintest of smirks, as though confirming a suspicion.

“I had no say in her placement on this team,” Aaron continued, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Strauss made the decision, and she made it clear that the reason is simple: she’s the best. You’ve seen it for yourselves, even if you haven’t wanted to admit it. Her insights have already helped move this case forward. She is not your enemy, nor is she here to judge you.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. “I didn’t disclose our relationship because I wanted to keep our personal lives separate from our professional ones. But as your Unit Chief and as her partner, I will not tolerate disrespect toward her—whether it’s behind her back or to her face.”

Reid, finally finding his voice, asked hesitantly, “Does she…know about us? I mean, our dynamics, our methods? Or does she see us as part of the problem?”

Aaron’s expression softened slightly as he addressed the question. “She knows exactly who you are and how good you are at what you do. She’s here to help you do your jobs better, not to interfere. But she also deserves the same respect you’d give any other member of this team.”

Rossi finally spoke, his tone measured. “And you think telling us this now is going to smooth things over?” His words weren’t accusatory, but they carried weight.

“I think,” Aaron replied, meeting Rossi’s gaze, “that you deserved to know the truth. And I think it’s time we focus on the job at hand rather than creating divisions that don’t need to exist.”

The silence lingered until Derek broke it. “Hotch, we didn’t mean to—”

Aaron held up a hand. “I know you didn’t mean harm, but intentions don’t erase the impact. This team works because we trust each other. That trust goes both ways. If there’s something you need to say, say it to me or to her directly. Gossip and disrespect have no place here.”

JJ nodded, her expression softening. “You’re right. We were out of line. I think…I think we just felt blindsided.”

Aaron’s tone eased, though it remained firm. “I understand. Change isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. You’ll see soon enough why she’s here. Until then, I need your cooperation.”

Emily exchanged a glance with Morgan, then nodded. “We’ll work on it. I promise.”

Rossi gave a small nod of approval, his smirk gone but his understanding clear. “She’s good, Aaron. I’ve seen it. Let’s make sure the rest of the team sees it too.”

Reid looked thoughtful, his pen tapping rhythmically again. “I think we can…adjust. If she’s here to make us better, that’s not a bad thing.”

Aaron gave a single nod, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. That’s all I wanted to say. Dismissed.”

As the team filed out, murmuring quietly among themselves, Rossi lingered behind. “You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “you could’ve just told me this a week ago.”

Aaron allowed himself the faintest smile. “Would it have made a difference?”

“Probably not,” Rossi said with a shrug, “but it would’ve saved you the speech.” With that, he left, leaving Aaron alone to gather his thoughts.

For now, he had taken the first step. And he could only hope it was enough.

Over the next few days, Aaron began to notice subtle shifts in his team’s behavior toward you. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it dramatic, but the signs were there. During case briefings, they no longer exchanged skeptical glances when you spoke. Instead, they began nodding along or even asking follow-up questions. Derek, who had been one of the most vocal skeptics, offered a rare compliment about your interrogation technique after a successful suspect interview.

“She’s got a way of getting under people’s skin,” Morgan admitted to Rossi when he thought Aaron wasn’t listening. “In a good way, I guess.”

Aaron didn’t respond, but he tucked the comment away, feeling an unspoken sense of satisfaction.

Even Reid, who had initially kept his distance, began peppering you with questions about your graduate work. You seemed to enjoy indulging him, discussing obscure psychological theories with the same enthusiasm he brought to the conversation. JJ and Emily followed suit, no longer as guarded, and Penelope—while still wary—had gone out of her way to show you how to use the BAU’s internal systems.

Aaron observed it all with quiet pride. His team was warming up to you, just as he had hoped, and it wasn’t because he’d told them to—it was because of you. Your intelligence, your confidence, and your ability to adapt were slowly breaking down the barriers they’d put up.

That evening, as the two of you wrapped up some paperwork in his office, you leaned back in your chair and smirked at him. “You know,” you said, your voice light with amusement, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Aaron looked up from his file, one brow raised. “Enjoying what?”

“You’re like the team dad,” you teased, crossing your arms. “All broody and protective, wanting the stepmom to be liked by the kids.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, low and rich. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” you shot back, grinning. “Because I think you’ve been paying more attention to their approval ratings for me than I have.”

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head but still smiling. “Maybe. But only because I know how much they mean to you—and how much you mean to me. I want this to work.”

Your expression softened, and for a moment, the teasing dropped. “It already is, Aaron. You don’t have to worry.”

His smile lingered as he looked at you, the tension that had been weighing on him for weeks finally starting to lift.

The real sign of progress came at the end of the week. The team had just wrapped up a grueling case, and as everyone packed up their things, Derek clapped his hands together.

“Alright, we’re going out. Drinks, food, and maybe a little dancing. Who’s in?”

JJ and Emily immediately agreed, and Reid nodded hesitantly, though he muttered something about “just one drink.” Rossi chuckled but offered a quick “Count me in.” Penelope looked around, her bright demeanor back in full force. “Where are we going? And more importantly, is there karaoke?”

Derek laughed. “No promises, Garcia.”

Then, almost casually, JJ turned to you. “You should come,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine. “You’ve had a long week too. You deserve to relax a little.”

Aaron didn’t miss the slight hesitation in your posture before you smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

“Good,” JJ said, already texting someone. “It’ll be fun.”

Aaron stayed silent, watching the moment unfold. The invitation wasn’t forced or reluctant—it was sincere. It was an olive branch, extended without fanfare, and he could tell by the look on your face that you recognized it for what it was.

As the team began filing out, chatting about where to go, you lingered by his desk. “That was unexpected,” you said quietly, glancing at him with a small smile.

“They’re coming around,” Aaron replied, his voice equally soft. “I told you they would.”

You smirked. “Well, Dad, looks like the kids like the stepmom after all.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood. “Let’s just hope I can keep them from embarrassing us tonight.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you teased, grabbing your bag. “Now, come on. You’ve got to show me if Unit Chief Hotchner can actually let loose.”

As you both headed out to join the others, Aaron felt a rare lightness in his chest. Things were falling into place—his team, you, everything. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to enjoy it.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #kiwriteswords

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pucksandpower · 5 months ago

Text

Metamorphosis

Charles Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Charles makes the worst mistake of his life, leaving him to watch from the sidelines as you move on to bigger and better things (and people)

Warnings: cheating, only one of you gets a happy ending (hint: it’s not Charles)

Based on this request

Charles enters the bedroom he shares with you, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to finally come clean about his infidelity. The guilt has been eating away at him for weeks.

You’re sitting up in bed, reading a book. You look up with a warm smile as Charles approaches. “Hey, you’re home early.”

Charles takes a deep breath. “Yeah … we need to talk.” His voice is heavy with regret.

You mark your page and set the book aside, giving him your full attention. “What’s going on?”

Charles sits down on the edge of the bed, unable to meet your trusting gaze. “I ...” The words get caught in his throat. How can he tell you? How can he shatter the life you’ve built together?

After a long pause, you prompt gently, “Charles? You’re worrying me ...”

He forces himself to look at you. Your beautiful face, your eyes full of love and concern for him. It breaks his heart anew.

“I’ve done something unforgivable,” he confesses in a pained murmur. “I … I cheated on you.”

For a moment, the room is silent. You stare at him, eyes widening in shock and hurt. Then, almost robotically, you slide out of bed and walk over to the closet. You pull out a suitcase and start methodically packing clothes.

“What? No, please, don’t do that!” Charles jumps up, panic and desperation gripping him. “I’m so sorry, it was a mistake! It meant nothing to me, I swear!”

You don’t respond, continuing to pack with eerie calm.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me? Throw things? Please, just … show some emotion!”

You pause and look at him impassively. “Why should I waste my energy? You’ve clearly checked out of our relationship already.”

Charles feels like he’s been slapped. “No! No, that’s not true at all! I love you, I want to make this work!”

Shoving the last shirt into the suitcase, you move over to the vanity and begin unclasping your jewelry — pieces he gave you on holidays or your anniversary or just because. You stack the earrings, necklaces, and bracelets on the surface, finally pulling off your engagement ring and adding it to the pile with a soft clink.

“Please ...” Charles begs, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t leave me. We can get through this, I promise!”

You zip up the suitcase and turn to him, your expression unreadable. “Let me go, Charles.” You roll the suitcase toward the door.

Charles follows you through the apartment, desperation clawing at his insides. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so, so sorry. Please, just give me another chance!”

You stop at the front door, finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes are dry, but there is a deep sadness etched onto your features. “Why should I give you another chance when you didn’t give me or our relationship a second thought?”

“No, wait!” He rushes after you, grabbing your arm. You shrug him off easily, pausing with your hand on the knob to look back at him one last time.

“I used to think you were my soulmate,” you say quietly. “But you’ve shown me who you really are. I can’t keep loving a lie.”

“Don’t do this!” he pleads, desperation clawing at his throat. “Don’t just give up on us, on everything we had!”

You pause at the front door, finally turning to face him fully. “You gave up first, Charles. Not me.”

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Because you’re right — he’s the one who destroyed this, who sacrificed your life together for one selfish moment.

Your jaw tightens slightly, the first flicker of emotion he’s seen. “Goodbye, Charles.”

You turn and walk out the door, pulling it shut behind you with a final click.

Charles is left staring at the closed door, the deafening silence around him. He’s not sure how long he stands there, frozen, replaying your parting words in his mind. Goodbye, you’d said, without any anger or tears.

Just … goodbye.

***

Months later, Charles is seated in the front row at Milan Fashion Week, watching the Ferrari Style runway show with a tight smile plastered on his face. He’s here for publicity, to keep up appearances, even though the last thing he wants is to be thrust into the spotlight tonight.

Not when you are walking in the show.

He tries not to hold his breath as each new model struts down the sleek crimson catwalk. He’s successful at keeping his cool, nodding occasionally at a particularly striking outfit, until suddenly … there you are.

You emerge from the backstage wings, a vision in deep Ferrari red from head to toe. But it’s not just a dress or evening gown. No, the Spanish flag and bold 55 displayed proudly on the front of the outfit leave no doubt — you’re wearing a feminine version of his teammate’s race suit.

Charles’ jaw goes slack as you move with confidence, head held high, every inch the picture of poise and strength. Of a woman who has moved on, left him and their broken relationship in the rearview mirror.

His hands clench in his lap as you pivot at the end of the runway. Even from here, he can see that characteristic glint in your eyes, the spark that had drawn him to you in the first place. The same spark that had been extinguished in those final moments at your shared apartment.

As the show wraps up and the other models join you, Charles rises shakily. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he has no right. But the masochistic urge to see you up close, to try and speak to you for the first time in months, is overpowering.

He makes his way backstage, flashing his credentials to bypass security. A deafening mix of cheers and laughter guides him towards the dressing area, where he finds a cluster of models still in their runway looks, giddily celebrating.

And there you are in the center, radiant and alive in a way he hasn’t seen in so long. A tall, broad-shouldered man he doesn’t recognize moves towards you, a massive bouquet of red roses in his hand.

Something dark and ugly rears up in Charles’ chest as the man leans down, offering you the flowers with a brilliant smile. Your returning grin is equally bright as you accept them, lifting the vibrant blooms to inhale their sweet scent.

Of course you have suitors lining up, Charles thinks bitterly. Look at you — confident, successful, leaving him and your painful history together far behind. Who wouldn’t want to give their entire heart to someone like you?

The irrational flare of jealousy is like acid in his veins as you turn to the man, mouth opening to undoubtedly offer your gratitude. But then, shockingly, the man simply pivots towards a nearby male model, gripping his lapels and pulling him into a searing kiss.

Charles blinks dumbly as the pair continue their heated embrace, seemingly oblivious to the raucous cheers and whoops from the other models, you included.

Even as the tight knot of jealousy in Charles’ chest loosens, it’s replaced by something worse — a sinking feeling of regret as he watches you from his hidden vantage point.

You look … happy.

Vibrant.

Surrounded by friends and uplifted by your success, without him holding you back with his selfish mistakes.

Why did he ever think confronting you backstage was a good idea? You’ve clearly moved on to an exciting new chapter, one he has no place in. Not after how much he broke you, shattered the loving core you’d shared.

You throw your head back in a full-bellied laugh at something one of the other models says. Even from here, even with the distance he forced between you, the uninhibited joy on your face in that moment cuts straight to Charles’ heart.

“Hey, you lost back here?” A rough voice breaks into his thoughts. Charles turns to find a burly security guard eyeing him suspiciously.

“I … no. No, I was just leaving.” Charles forces his feet into motion, turning on his heel to all but flee from the scene of your happiness.

As painful as it is seeing how beautifully you’re thriving without him, he has no one to blame but himself. He’s the one who threw away the greatest thing he ever had. You owe him nothing, certainly not delaying your healing by dredging up the past.

Even if watching you move on cuts deeper than any physical wound.

***

The salty Sardinian breeze ruffles Charles’ hair as he leans back on the plush deck lounger, soaking in the warm August sun. For the first few days of their annual family yacht trip, he’d felt the knots of tension slowly unraveling from his shoulders as the clear blue waters and simple routines of life at sea worked their magic.

His mother’s gentle humming as she read nearby, the sounds of his brothers horsing around and doing cannonballs off the stern, the nights spent under a blanket of stars — it had almost been enough to fully distract him from thoughts of you.

Almost.

But of course, nothing can ever be that simple.

“What the hell is that!” Arthur’s annoyed shout breaks the tranquil silence.

Charles squints against the glare over the water to see what his brother is griping about. At first, it’s just a speck on the horizon. But as it draws nearer, he can make out the sleek, gleaming white lines of another yacht — one nearly triple the size of his own comparatively modest vessel.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Charles mutters under his breath as the ostentatious floating palace drops anchor mere yards from their private little cove. So much for the serenity they’d been enjoying.

He rises, moving to the railing with narrowed eyes as the other yacht’s passengers begin to emerge on the decks above them, raucous cheers and laughter cutting through the previously still air. The sound is abrasive, grating on Charles’ very last nerve.

Until a very specific, very familiar laugh rings out.

It can’t be … can it?

Charles freezes, his heart jackrabbiting as your unmistakable voice and bright, bubbling giggle reach him across the waters. He watches, feeling like he’s been doused in ice water, as you come into view alongside a group of equally vibrant, beautiful people.

Of course it’s you. Who else could it possibly be, here to upend his few days of hard-won peace?

You lean over the railing, your sunglasses sliding down your nose as you peer down at the crystal clear waters. Even from here, even with the distance separating you, Charles is struck by your radiant, carefree smile. When was the last time he saw you look so … effortlessly happy?

Before he can spiral too far down that winding road, you whip off your sunglasses and straighten, pulling the flowing fabric of your cover-up over your head in one smooth motion. You toss it aside carelessly, revealing the deep navy string bikini underneath as you take a few steps back from the railing.

Charles’ mouth goes dry as he tracks the sway of your hips, the confident, easy way you carry yourself in just that tiny scrap of swimwear. And then, with a bright peal of laughter, you’re sprinting forward and sailing over the railing, tucking into a flawless backflip before slicing into the glittering waves below.

A chorus of cheers and whoops erupts from your friends as they follow your graceful leap, one by one pelting into the water in your wake like a stream of sleek dolphin dancers. Charles watches, his earlier frustration morphing into something darker and much more complicated, as your head breaks the surface, tendrils of your soaked hair clinging to the graceful curves of your neck and shoulders.

You toss your head back, slicking the dripping strands away from your face as you tread water easily, that brilliant, freed smile never slipping. How long has it been since Charles saw you look so radiant, so at peace, so … alive?

“Mon ami, close your mouth before you start drooling all over the deck.”

Joris’ voice startles Charles from his reverie. He blinks, only then realizing his hands are clenched tightly around the cool metal railing, knuckles straining white. His best friend arches an expectant brow as Charles quickly averts his eyes, flushing hotly.

“I wasn’t ...” he starts weakly, but Joris simply scoffs.

“Yeah, okay mate. Keep telling yourself that.” Joris settles in beside him, bare feet kicked up on the railing as his eyes track over to your group, now engaged in an intense game of chicken fight among the gentle waves. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”

The resentful scowl that tugs at Charles’ mouth is automatic, instinctive. “I couldn’t care less how she looks,” he lies through gritted teeth.

Even to his own ears, the petulant deflection sounds pathetic. Joris raises an unimpressed brow. “Could’ve fooled me, with how you were eye-fucking her from over here just now.”

Charles’ flush deepens as your bright, delighted laughter rings out again, echoing across the waters. “It’s not like that,” he insists, even as his gaze traitorously tracks after the source of that sound. “I was just … surprised to see her here, that’s all.”

“Sure, yeah. And I’m the Prince of Monaco.” Joris snorts, shaking his head. “Listen, man, I get it-”

“You don’t get anything,” Charles bites out, rounding on his friend as frustration boils over. “You have no idea what it’s like seeing her like … like that, after everything. She’s just moved on like our entire relationship meant nothing!”

The ugly admission hangs between them in the still air, Charles panting slightly from the force of the outburst. Joris watches him cautiously for a long moment before speaking. “That’s not fair, Charles. You’re the one who-”

“I know!” Charles cuts him off sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know what I did, alright? You don’t have to remind me.”

He sinks back against the railing, suddenly exhausted down to his very bones. Out across the waves, you’re perched atop one of your friend’s shoulders, engaged in an epic battle against another pair that’s quickly devolving into a fit of violent splashing.

“I know I screwed everything up. I have to live with that every single day.” Charles’ throat feels tight, watched. “I just … I never thought I’d have to watch her being so happy without me too.”

The fight seems to leave Joris as he takes in Charles’ miserable, broken expression. The other man sighs, squeezing Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry. That’s … that’s got to be tough as hell to see. But you can’t blame her for moving on and being happy again, you know? What you did … well, you really broke her heart.”

Charles doesn’t respond, letting the words hang heavy between them as your melodic laugh continues to drift towards them. He knows Joris is right — he has no one to blame for this gut-wrenching situation but himself. But that doesn’t make watching your vibrant, beautiful soul shine so bright without him there any easier.

***

Charles guides his Ferrari up to the valet stand outside one of his favorite restaurants in Monaco, the engine purring like a contented cat. He throws the car into park and kills the ignition, savoring that last potent growl of the powerful motor.

There’s just something different about a Ferrari, something quintessentially Italian and bred for speed. He runs an appreciative hand along the sleek black curve of the door as he waits for the valet. This is a beast made for the racetrack, for pushing past limits. Not like those garish, overcompensating-

The loud rumble of another engine cuts into his thoughts. Charles looks up in disdain as a blinding yellow Lamborghini pulls up.

“Trying too hard, as always,” Charles mutters to himself as he watches the valet park the ostentatious machine. Could a car be any more desperate for attention? Absolutely zero class or restraint.

He climbs out, already half-dismissing it from his mind, when a familiar figure emerges from the restaurant entrance. The valet is hastening to assist, offering a hand as she descends the front steps in a form-fitting crimson dress. Even from here, even with the perfectly curled hair and smokey makeup, Charles would know the line of those shoulders, the elegant curve of her neck anywhere.

You.

His breath catches as you smile warmly at the young valet, sliding him what looks like a generous tip before slipping into the driver’s seat of the garish yellow Lamborghini and roaring off without a backwards glance.

Charles is still gaping after you, mouth slightly ajar, when the second valet appears at his side.

“Good evening, monsieur. Shall I park your car for you?”

He blinks dumbly for a moment before recovering. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Sliding the young man his own tip, Charles pivots on his heel and strides into the elegant dining room, mind whirling. Of all the cars in the world, he never would have pegged you for a Lamborghini person.

Then again, he clearly doesn’t know you like he thought he did. Not the new you, the version free of him and his betrayals.

He takes his usual table in the back corner, ordering an expensive Chianti before he can even glance at the menu. Tonight calls for relying on old vices. As he swirls the deep burgundy liquid, he finds himself drifting back to your matching crimson dress, how it clung to your curves in such a delicious way.

Even when you were furious with him, you could never quite hide the passion that smoldered underneath. Charles had spent many blissful nights stoking those flames, coaxing them into an all-consuming wildfire of want and need. He misses the scorching heat of your desire, your clever hands and wicked mouth setting his body ablaze.

He closes his eyes, letting the memory of your bare skin flush against his wash over him. Those nights of tangled limbs and breathy gasps, when nothing else mattered but struggling to get impossibly closer, as if your very beings could meld into one.

With a frustrated groan, Charles slams back the rest of his wine. What is he doing, torturing himself with memories of your lovemaking? You’ve clearly moved on to new chapters, new … cars. New everything, really.

And yet he can’t quite extinguish the gnawing sense of dissonance. A Lamborghini? Something so utterly over-the-top and desperate for attention just doesn’t seem like your style. You were always more understated … more elegant.

Not that it matters, he reminds himself firmly. Whatever choices you make now are no longer any of his business. He systematically strips away the judgements, the fragile sense of still knowing you intimately. After what he did, he sacrificed that right completely.

The waiter reappears with a fresh glass of wine and Charles takes it gratefully. He’s determined to focus on learning to untangle you from his thoughts and simply enjoy his evening. He came here for the ambiance, the food, the escape.

But no matter how he tries, your image keeps invading his mind’s eye — sliding into that sunshine yellow machine, stunning in that slinky red number and your lips curved in a contented smile. Content without him still lingering in the shadowed corners of your life.

And then it hits him like a slap across the face — you in that screaming yellow Lamborghini wasn’t about attention at all. It was the opposite — a declaration of fierce independence. Of staking your own claim, making your own flagrantly joyful choices without a care for his opinions or approval. Free from his reputation, his expectations, his name.

The realization is like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. You’ve remade yourself so thoroughly, forging a vibrant path that has absolutely nothing to do with him. While he’s been stuck in neutral, spinning his wheels and passively watching you soar out of reach.

A strange sense of loss washes over Charles. As badly as he’d wanted you to find your way again after his unforgivable betrayal, he can’t deny how disorienting it is to realize you’re not the same woman he fell in love with all those years ago.

You’re a new version, one he isn’t familiar with at all. One who makes choices and carries herself in a way he doubts he’ll ever fully understand, no matter how much he wishes he could go back and undo every selfish mistake that set these changes into motion.

Charles blinks against the unexpected sting in his eyes as he stares at the table. On some deeper level, he knows this remolding of your identity, this blossoming into someone both thrillingly unfamiliar yet unmistakably you, should be cause for celebration. It means you’re healing, leaving his mistakes in the past and coming into your own again in spite of his ugliest failures.

He just wishes he didn’t have to watch the entire metamorphosis from a distance.

***

Charles squints against the bright morning sunlight as he strides through the paddock towards his garage. A slight chill still clings to the air, promising another sweltering afternoon session once the sun reaches its peak. He adjusts his cap lower over his eyes, trying not to dwell too much on the practice times from yesterday. There’s still so much fine-tuning needed to find those crucial extra tenths of a second.

Passing by the Red Bull motorhome, a flash of familiar flowing hair catches his eye. Charles freezes mid-step, his heart stuttering. It couldn’t be … could it?

But then the figure moves fully into view and there’s no mistaking the delicate slope of your jaw and those cheekbones he knows as well as his own reflection. It’s definitely you, slipping inside the sleek facade of the Red Bull motorhome with an easy smile.

Charles blinks dumbly, certain his eyes must be playing tricks on him. Why in the world would you be going into the Red Bull motorhome? You never had any connection to their team or drivers before, back when ...

When you were still together.

Charles swallows hard, dragging his gaze away. He must have imagined it. Sometimes his subconscious still gets carried away, superimposing your presence into random moments or places like an echo of a life he can never return to. Seeing you here, intertwined with his racing world in some way, is just too improbable.

Shaking off the strange moment, he refocuses on the day ahead. But over the next two days, he can’t seem to avoid catching glimpses of you around the Red Bull garage and hospitality areas. There you are chatting with one of their engineers just outside their motorhome entrance. Then sharing a hushed conversation off to the side with their chief strategist.

Finally, on Sunday just before the race, he watches with raised eyebrows as you throw your head back laughing at something Max Verstappen says, the Red Bull driver’s own grin wide and appreciative.

Some sort of friendship surely couldn’t explain this level of access and familiarity could it? A sour knot of suspicion begins twisting in Charles’ gut. There’s no way … no way Max would ...

But he has to know.

As the Formula 1 circus begins packing up after the race, Charles spots you slipping away from the Red Bull group once more, clearly headed back to their closed-off sanctuary. He watches Max linger outside, fiddling idly with his cap as he waits.

It’s the perfect opportunity. Charles doesn’t even think, just lets his feet carry him across the crowded paddock until he’s standing across from his fellow driver.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The accusation comes out half-snarl before he can stop himself.

Max turns, eyebrows shooting up. “... Charles? What are you on about?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Charles jabs a finger back towards the motorhome you disappeared into. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been with her all weekend. How you two can’t seem to get enough of each other’s company.”

Realization dawns and Max actually has the audacity to laugh. “Wait … is this about Y/N? You jealous she’s been hanging around our team?”

White-hot fury lances through Charles and he has to grit his teeth against the heated words that want to come spilling out. “You think this is funny? Cozying up to my ex-fianceé less than a year after I lost her? What, you couldn’t find someone else so you had to go after her?”

Max shakes his head slowly, clearly fighting to keep his expression neutral. “Damn … I didn’t realize the great Charles Leclerc makes the rules on who Y/N can associate with these days.”

The blatant dismissal in his tone is like a physical slap. Charles recoils slightly before squaring his shoulders. “Don’t turn this around on me. I know what I saw, how cozy you two were-”

“Easy there, tiger.” Max cuts him off, holding up one hand placatingly. “First of all, Y/N and I are just friends. I happen to have my own gorgeous girlfriend, but thanks for looking out.”

He pauses, letting the implication that Charles is being irrational and out-of-line sink in. When Charles doesn’t immediately retort, Max continues.

“Second … you seem to have conveniently forgotten that you’re the one who threw away your life with Y/N. The one who cheated and broke her heart. You don’t get to dictate a damn thing about who she spends time with or how she chooses to live her life now.”

The words slam into Charles with brutal force, knocking the breath from his lungs. Because Max is right — he has no claim here, no right to make assumptions or demands. Not after what he did.

Seeming to sense he’s scored a direct hit, Max shakes his head again. “Look, I get it’s probably hard watching her move on fully, start over without you. But that’s on you, not her. You’re going to have to learn to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”

The quiet truth in his voice is like a white-hot brand. Charles swallows hard, suddenly incapable of meeting Max’s level gaze.

“Then … then why has she been around your team so much?” It comes out sounding more petulant than he intended, a desperate scramble to regain some levity. “If she’s not … you know ...”

Max huffs out a soft laugh, stooping to retrieve his discarded cap. “That answer isn’t mine to give.” He slides it back on, fixing Charles with one last searching look. “But if I had to guess? She’s putting herself first now. Pursuing her own path, one that has nothing to do with you anymore.”

He turns towards the Red Bull motorhome, tossing his final phrase over his shoulder. “I’d get used to it, if I were you.”

Charles watches him disappear inside, leaving him rooted in place and feeling completely lost. The crowd continues to disperse around him, teams and personnel breaking down equipment and packing things away.

Yet Max’s words keep ricocheting through his mind on an endless loop.

She’s pursuing her own path now. One that has nothing to do with you anymore.

It makes perfect sense of course — the laughter, the camaraderie, the ease of her presence in Red Bull’s inner sanctum. The seamless way she navigated their ecosystem all weekend long while Charles remained oblivious.

Because you’ve fully remade your entire existence into one that no longer intersects with his whatsoever.

As the paddock slowly empties around him, Charles finally forces one foot in front of the other, his legs feeling like overcooked noodles. Part of him wants to stick around until you reemerge, to demand that you explain this bold new reality you’ve carved out.

But what would be the point? You don’t owe him any explanations, any part of your life now. Those days are over, gone forever thanks to his own bone-deep failings.

So he keeps walking, leaving you and your mystery behind. After all, hadn’t you made it crystal clear from the very beginning?

This was your path to reclaim now, a future that was yours and yours alone to chase.

***

Charles frowns down at the envelope in his hand as he pushes open the door to his apartment, his mind still half-focused on the looming Austrian Grand Prix. The return address is from some high-end clothing boutique in Paris, but it’s the name neatly printed below that makes his heart stutter.

Y/N Y/L/N.

For a long moment, he simply stands there in the entryway, turning the innocent envelope over and over in his hands. How did this slip through the cracks and wind up here, at what used to be your shared home before everything combusted?

He traces the graceful swoop of your name with one finger, memories flickering through his mind’s eye. Coming home from races to find you curled up on the sofa with the latest fashion magazines scattered around you, making notes in the margins. Or catching you in the huge walk-in closet the two of you designed together, carefully hanging up some new couture purchase with a reverent touch.

You always did have impeccable taste. Charles can’t even find it in himself to judge the fancy Parisian boutique’s stationary now clutched in his hands.

Making a split-second decision, he spins on his heel and heads right back out the door, letter in hand. If this innocuous slip of mail made its way here by some shipping error, it’s the perfect excuse to … what? See you again? Try to explain himself one more time?

He’s not sure, but either way, the pull to seek you out is utterly irresistible now that this connection has fallen into his lap. Charles makes it two blocks before realizing with a start that he has absolutely no idea where you’re living these days.

The logical side of his brain reminds him he could simply call or text to get your new address and make arrangements to pass the letter along. But the thought of such mundane formalities after all this time, after the way things were upended so brutally, is laughable.

So instead he lets his feet guide him towards the upscale apartment building you lived in before moving into his place. There’s a chance the leasing office might have a forwarding address on file he can use. A small voice whispers that this is almost certainly a futile quest, that you’ve no doubt successfully untangled every last thread of your life from his.

But he has to try.

The lobby is blessedly quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and foot traffic he remembers from past visits. Charles straightens his shoulders and approaches the front desk, where a youngish woman with a bright smile greets him.

“Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m actually trying to track down the new address for a former tenant — Y/N Y/L/N?” He carefully pencils in the last name, watching as the woman’s face scrunches in thought for a beat before her eyes widen in recognition.

“Of course, Mademoiselle Y/L/N. One moment.”

She taps efficiently at her computer, scanning whatever information has popped up on the screen. Just watching her work makes Charles’ heart kick up its rhythm in nervous anticipation.

“Ah, yes, here we are. It seems Mademoiselle Y/L/N moved out around three months ago. She actually left instructions for any further mail that slips through to be forwarded to ...”

She pauses, glancing up at Charles with newfound curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Are you a relative, sir? Mademoiselle Y/L/N requested her new address only be released to family.”

“I’m … an old friend,” he answers carefully, unsure if that bends the truth too far or not. “We used to be very close.”

The woman’s polite smile dims ever-so-slightly at his choice of words, like she can read the subtext loud and clear. Used to be very close … until he completely obliterated that closeness.

“I see,” she says neutrally. “Well, in that case, I’m afraid I can’t provide her new contact details without explicit permission. But the residents currently leasing her old unit have been directly forwarding any mail to her, if that would help?”

It’s not ideal, but a frustratingly belated realization stops Charles from arguing further — you clearly requested your whereabouts be kept private now, at least from him. Probably a wise decision, all things considered.

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

She rattles off the apartment number and Charles commits it to memory with a polite nod before turning to leave. As he crosses the airy lobby once more, he can’t resist glancing up towards the corner unit he knows was yours, absently wondering if someone else’s belongings line those shelves now, if there are new photos or mementos dotting the surfaces where yours once stood.

He shakes off the melancholy pang — you’ve forged an entirely new existence somewhere far away. Of course your old place has been repopulated, just like all the love you breathed into it has dissipated like smoke.

The apartment door opens after the third solid knock, revealing a twenty-something woman with a confused furrow in her brow. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m actually here about a piece of mail for the previous tenant? The front desk said to bring it here.” Charles quickly proffers the letter before she can raise further objections or shut the door in his face completely.

“Oh.” She accepts it hesitantly, turning it over in her hands just like Charles had done earlier. “Yeah, the last tenant did leave instructions for stuff like this, now that you mention it ...”

She trails off, eyes narrowing slightly as she studies him more intently. He knows that look, can pinpoint the exact moment realization blossoms.

“Wait … you’re not Charles Leclerc, are you?”

So much for anonymity. He opens his mouth, fully prepared to deny and deflect as the tension stretches between them-

“Oh my god, you are!” The young woman actually gasps, one hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes go saucer-wide. “I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you. I mean, sorry about … you know. That entire situation with Y/N. My boyfriend is such a fan of yours though, I can’t even-”

“It’s alright,” Charles cuts her off on pure instinct, the words rushing out in a bid to stem the conversational swerve that’s clearly brewing. “I actually stopped by to pass that letter along, but also see if there’s a current address where I could reach Y/N? Perhaps send her things directly from now on.”

His polite inquiry has the desired effect — the woman’s starry-eyed expression shutters again as she refocuses. “Ah, well, about that … Y/N asked for anything like this to be forwarded to an address in Austria once she moved there. Let me grab that for you.”

Charles waits in silence as she ducks back inside, busying herself with finding the details. Austria? Of all places, why would you have relocated to-

“Got it.” She reappears, a small slip of paper in her outstretched hand. “This is where you can send anything for Y/N. Though I obviously don’t know all the details about … you know. Your situation.”

He takes the slip without comment, just a curt nod of acknowledgement. The woman rocks back on her heels, worrying her lower lip slightly.

“For what it’s worth … I think it’s really cool you’ve tried to stay in contact, you know? Even after everything. That’s commitment.”

Her sincere tone grates against the ugly truth they’re both tap-dancing around — that he’s the one who torched your commitment beyond repair with his selfish actions.

“Thanks,” is all he can muster, already turning away and pocketing the slip of paper with your new Austrian address before she can say anything further.

As he retraces his steps to the ground floor, Charles finds himself clutching the envelope even tighter, knuckles going white. So you’ve fled all the way to Austria now, put an entire nation’s length between your old life and whatever rising present you’re building. No wonder you didn’t want your location breathed to just anyone, let alone the man who detonated your world.

Well, he got what he came for in more ways than one. He has your new address now, the roadmap to whatever path you’ve started down without him sketched out in his hands. Part of him longs to deviate from his own schedule and just … show up, uninvited, on your new doorstep. To try and explain himself, or at least attempt to understand what grander journey you’ve embarked on.

But the same voice that cautioned him earlier rings out once more — you’ve made it perfectly clear you want to sever any remaining ties or connections to him, no matter how tenuous. Perhaps out of necessity to fully heal or simply because you’re done having any part of Charles Leclerc tarnish your horizons any longer.

Either way, you’ve spoken through your silence and distance. Chasing you down now, while perhaps gratifying a selfish impulse of his own, would only disrespect the boundaries you’ve erected.

As Charles reaches his car and slides in behind the wheel, he can’t resist rereading the brief string of characters and numbers that make up your new address. He commits them to memory, sketching out a crude map in his mind’s eye of where exactly this secluded town lies in the looping alpine valleys and mountain peaks.

Part of him longs to program the coordinates into his GPS immediately, to seek you out while this connection still blazes hot and bright between you. But harsh realities keep crashing in — the Austrian Grand Prix is only days away, his own commitments and schedule unforgiving.

No, the wise choice would be to simply send the wayward letter on to its intended destination. To let you live in peace, unburdened by his disruptive presence any longer.

As Charles fires up the engine and eases out onto the main street, he catches one last glimpse of your old apartment building shrinking in the rearview mirror. He thinks of the wide-eyed woman’s parting comment about “commitment” and has to laugh bitterly.

Commitment is precisely what he failed to uphold, the whispered promises he shattered into pieces with his own calloused hands. You owe him no further explanations, no more fragments of yourself after he decimated the love you shared.

The seconds will stretch on towards the next race, the next city, the next routine of focused preparation. But part of Charles’ mind will linger in that small Austrian town, caught in the mystery of the new life you’ve built.

A life he has no right to reinsert himself into, not anymore. All he can do is wish you well from a distance and keep putting kilometers between you with every spin of his tires.

Kilometers and kilometers of regret.

***

Charles stares down at the navigation screen, his thumb hovering over the go button. This is ridiculous — completely irrational and just begging for disaster. He has no business showing up unannounced like this, disrupting whatever new life you’ve so carefully constructed.

And yet … the Austrian address you have been forwarding mail to is already programmed in, glowing softly with the swipe of his finger. He could be there in just over nine hours, barring any major delays on the route into Salzburg province.

His mind races, cycling through every logical argument for abandoning this reckless idea immediately. You’re entitled to your privacy, your fresh start far away from the wreckage he created. Anything more would be him selfishly barging back into your existence, the one place he swore to never intrude again.

Against his better judgement, Charles swipes the go button. Almost instantly, the robotic voice begins spouting turn-by-turn directions, the path to your doorstep stretching out in vivid digital detail.

What’s done is done. He’ll simply … take it one step at a time.

The winding Alpine roads are a marvel of feats in civil engineering, the roadways expertly carved into the towering rock faces in sweeping vistas. Even Charles, who has logged countless miles of serpentine racetracks and courses around the globe, can’t help admiring the impossible scenery whipping past.

Evergreen forests give way to snow-capped peaks reaching into the crisp blue sky. ancient castles and towering church spires alike keep popping into view around each new switchback turn. He can’t shake the nagging sense that this entire region is something ripped from the pages of a storybook, a landscape too perfectly picturesque to be real.

Which is perhaps why the sight of the enormous wrought-iron gates materializing up ahead doesn’t immediately faze him at all.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS chirps pleasantly as Charles slows the Ferrari, trying to comprehend the sprawling estate now stretching out before him. This can’t possibly be right, can it?

Lush gardens and perfectly manicured shrubbery serpentine around the perimeter in intricate geometric patterns, eventually yielding to an emerald green meadow dotted with ancient growth trees. A gravel path splits the sweeping lawns up ahead, clearly carving a wide berth around … is that an actual lakehouse?

Charles blinks in stunned stupor, instinctively searching for some sort of address marker or sign as he creeps up the main drive towards the gates. Instead, his eyes are drawn to the imposing manor itself, all honey-colored stone and arched windows that wouldn’t look out of place in a Renaissance fresco. Turrets and spires spiral upwards towards the cloudless sky, practically winking in the summer sunshine.

This has to be some colossal mistake.

He’s fully prepared to simply turn around and peel back out of this fairytale estate when the crackle of a speaker breaks the silence.

“Hallo? This is a private residence. Please identify yourself and state your business.” The clipped, accented words carry an undeniable tone of authority.

Shit. Charles swallows hard against his suddenly dry throat, throwing the car into park as he leans towards the callbox mounted on the ivy-laced exterior wall.

“Ah, yes, hello … my name is Charles Leclerc. I’m actually here to-” He breaks off, fresh uncertainty bubbling up. He’s here to what, exactly? Catch a glimpse of the new life you’ve created? Throw himself at your feet and beg forgiveness once more?

“One moment, please,” the disembodied voice instructs crisply before the line goes dead silent once more.

Charles sits back, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. He should go, right now before this reaches the point of no return. He could simply turn around, act like this was all some misguided joke and leave you undisturbed. It’s the mature, sensible choice.

Instead, his pulse kicks up into a furious gallop as the massive front gates begin slowly grinding open with a metal groan, clear invitation to proceed. Charles doesn’t move for a long beat, waiting for the second half of the intercom to bark out a warning, for security to appear and politely hustle him off the premises.

But nothing. The gates yawn open further, revealing the full splendor of the estate lying in wait beyond.

Before he can think better of it, Charles eases the Ferrari forward. The crunch of the pale gravel beneath his tires seems to echo off the looming stone walls as he winds deeper into the property, the boundaries blurring between reality and a dreamscape more suited for the silver screen.

Finally, he rounds the last curve and the manor in its full glory stretches out before him. Every inch of the sprawling facade is a carved, architectural marvel — from the polished lintels to the intricate mouldings encircling each enormous window and doorway.

He kills the engine and simply sits there, once again grappling with unprecedented uncertainty. What was he thinking, assuming he could just brazenly roll up and … what? Vent months worth of grievances and miscommunications in a casual chat? As if the life you’ve so clearly cultivated here could ever intersect with his own beaten path again?

Charles climbs out of the car on legs that seem determined to wobble out from under him. He’s vaguely aware of the thunder of footsteps on stone before one of the massive oak front doors swings wide and a figure fills the entryway.

“Charles Leclerc, I presume?” The man’s sharp tone instantly catches Charles off guard. He’s younger than expected, perhaps mid-thirties, with an athletic build and carefully groomed dark hair. Despite the informal lounge pants and linen shirt, an unmistakable air of assurance rolls off him in waves.

“Er … yes. Hello.” Charles hears the uncertainty edging into his own greeting, quickly scrambling to fill the conversational pause. “I didn’t realize Y/N had … household staff now.”

The words are out before he can fully snatch them back. The man’s expression doesn’t so much as flicker, but there’s suddenly a tension charging the space between them that has Charles’ palms prickling with sweat.

“I’ll inform her you’ve arrived,” the man says at last, his intense gaze scanning over Charles slowly from head to toe.

Is that judgment blending into the appraisal? Regardless, Charles feels abruptly self-conscious — he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of such frank scrutiny today. But then again, he’s the one who inserted himself into unknown territory here.

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the receiving hall?” The open doorway and subtle tilt of the man’s head is clear invitation, one Charles has no choice but to mutely accept.

He climbs the three stairs to the arched entrance, pausing just before the threshold to turn back with furrowed brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your-”

“Mark.” The reply is clipped but courteous enough, at least. “Y/N should be down shortly.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and disappears through the foyer, leaving Charles to hover there alone for a beat too long before finally stepping across the threshold. Each footfall on the gleaming marble seems to ricochet off the domed ceiling above, bouncing back in mocking echoes.

As his gaze travels around the cavernous space, roving over the hanging art and intricate tilework, Charles can’t quite bite back the breathless huff of amazement.

Where in the actual hell are you living, Y/N?

***

Charles follows a step behind Mark as the other man leads them deeper into the estate. He can’t resist craning his neck, taking in every jaw-dropping detail — the soaring archways, the intricate brickwork, the Venetian plaster and artworks adorning the walls.

It’s the art itself that begins nagging at him first. Charles frowns slightly as they pass yet another larger-than-life canvas, this one emblazoned with the distinctive Red Bull logo and colors. Then a series of framed photographs, all seeming to depict different angles and events tied to the racing team.

“You must be quite a fan of Red Bull,” he finds himself commenting as they round a corner.

Mark half-turns, one eyebrow quirked. “You could say that.”

There’s an undercurrent to his tone that Charles can’t quite put his finger on. Before he can pry further, they emerge into some sort of sitting room or receiving area, the walls giving way to a bright, airy ambiance.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Mark gestures towards one of the plush sofas arranged in the center of the space. “I’ll have the staff inform Y/N you’re here.”

Charles nods, still trying to absorb the sheer opulence around him as he takes a seat. How in the world did you find yourself situated in a place like this? The nagging questions about Mark’s potential connection to the Red Bull team continue to swirl.

He’s pulled from his ruminations by the sound of your voice filtering down the hallway, breezing and melodic as ever.

“Babe? You down here?”

Charles stiffens instinctively at the endearment, his eyes snapping over to where Mark is casually lounging back against the opposite sofa. There’s no missing the tender smile playing across the other man’s lips.

“In the sitting room, liebling. We have a guest.”

The teasing lilt in his response has Charles’ skin prickling with something he can’t quite identify. He rises halfway as your footsteps grow nearer, not wanting to seem rude by remaining fully seated.

“Oh, a guest! Who-”

You sweep into the room still chattering away cheerfully, entirely oblivious until your gaze finally lands squarely on Charles. The breath punches out of you in a surprised rush, your entire body going rigid as the words die on your lips.

For an endless heartbeat, you simply stare at Charles, motionless but for the slight part of your lips. He watches as a faint flush blossoms high on your cheekbones, long lashes fluttering rapidly.

“... Charles? What are you doing here?”

He blinks dumbly at the sound of your voice, hushed with disbelief yet still so familiar after all this time. “I … you got a letter. From Paris, I think. It arrived at our — at my old place by mistake.”

Cursing his stammering, Charles reaches automatically for his inner jacket pocket, fumbling until he can produce the crumpled envelope bearing your name. “I didn’t know if other things might keep getting sent there, so I thought ...”

He trails off lamely, unable to properly articulate the impulse that propelled him all this way. To deliver one measly piece of mail? To re-establish some connection, no matter how fragile? He realizes with a start that you’ve moved closer, extending one hand to gently accept the letter from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur, eyes momentarily skittering away from his probing gaze. “That was very considerate.”

The moment stretches out, silence expanding in the cavernous space. Charles watches as your free hand flutters unconsciously upwards to fiddle with the collar of your shirt, struggling to find his voice once more.

“I didn’t realize you had, ah … you had a place like this now.” His attempt at nonchalance is so piss-poor he wants to cringe. “And … company, I suppose?”

A delicate snort from the other side of the room reminds Charles he’s not alone with you. His gaze snaps over to find Mark watching the exchange with an inquisitive smirk, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“Company?” He echoes the word airily, igniting a fresh bloom of color in your cheeks. “This must be terribly confusing for you.”

In one seamless motion, Mark unfolds himself from the sofa and crosses the short distance to your side, slipping one possessive arm around your waist. The intimacy of the gesture has Charles’ mouth going dry.

“Allow me to clarify — I’m Mark. Mark Mateschitz.” The subtle emphasis on the surname hits Charles like a bucket of ice water, comprehension crashing over him in waves.

“Mateschitz?” He hears himself repeating dumbly. “As in … Dietrich Mateschitz? The founder of Red Bull?”

Mark’s grin stretches into something wolfishly triumphant at Charles’ stunned expression. “The very same. My father.”

He lets the implication expand in the silence barreling down on them from all sides. Charles numbly finds the nearest armchair and sinks into it, struggling to fully process the revelation.

Of course. All the Red Bull imagery and iconography made so much more sense now. This sprawling, palatial estate clearly belonged to the family behind the team and brand, the multinational empire. Which meant … you weren’t simply a friendly acquaintance chumming around the Red Bull garages.

No, you were with the actual Mateschitz heir, the current co-owner of the goddamn company himself.

The sound of you softly clearing your throat breaks through his whirling thoughts. When Charles glances up, the vision that greets him is like a vise around his heart — you and Mark cuddled close together on the loveseat, his arm still looped possessively around your waist as you toy absently with the ends of his dark hair. Two people radiating intimacy and comfort, completely at home in one another’s embrace.

“We met during a Wings for Life charity run, actually,” you offer at last, almost as an olive branch. “We just … hit it off, I suppose. One thing led to another and … well, here we are.”

Mark’s fingers trail in a barely-there caress up and down your arm as you speak, his gaze locked adoringly on your profile. The look is so tender, so inescapably fond that it makes Charles’ chest constrict painfully.

“She’s a force of nature,” Mark says simply, the corners of his eyes crinkling with quiet mirth. “What else could I do but get caught up in her orbit?”

A flush blossoms high on your cheeks, but you don’t turn away, holding Mark’s fond gaze steadily. In that moment, the love you two share is almost a tangible force, shimmering and alive in the air between you. It’s beautiful and devastating all at once.

“I, uh, I should go.” The words leave Charles in a dazed mumble before he can reconsider. He rises abruptly, needing to create space between himself and the intimacies unfolding so easily in front of him.

As if snapping out of a reverie, you look up sharply. “Charles, wait-”

“No, really, it’s fine.” He tries valiantly to paste on a casual smile, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Thank you again for … well, you know. I’m sure I can see myself out.”

Turning on his heel, Charles makes it no more than two strides before your voice stops him once more, tinged with gentle exasperation.

“That’s the library you’re heading for. Here, let me ...”

You gently disentangle yourself from Mark’s embrace and cross the room towards a different set of double doors. Charles watches in silence as you lead the way through winding hallway after hallway with an effortless grace. Of course you know the layout of this palatial mansion like the back of your hand — this is your home now, your life.

The thought churns bitterly in his gut even as you both finally reach the arched front entrance. You turn back to face him, mouth twisting in that familiar apologetic quirk he knows so well.

“Listen, I know this was … unexpected. And maybe not the easiest thing to process.” You huff out a soft laugh, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear almost shyly. “But I’m glad you stopped by, despite everything. It was … nice to see you again.”

He blinks dumbly, at a loss for words in the face of your warm sincerity. This entire interaction has been an avalanche of emotions — the shock of discovering your romantic entanglement with the Mateschitz heir, the painful pang of watching you two’s intimacy on display, and now the remnants of affection in your tone as you bid him farewell.

It’s simply … too much. Too many conflicting feelings to deal with when his heart still bears the scar tissue of your break up.

“You too,” is all he can manage in return, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. “I, uh … I should get going if I want to make it to Spielberg before media day.”

You nod, seeming to understand his unspoken need to retreat and regroup. “Of course. Well, safe travels then.”

“We’ll see you at the Red Bull Ring,” Mark pipes up from behind you, his voice cutting through the tension with surprising joviality. “It is our home race this weekend, after all. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The reminder that you’ll be perpetually woven into the fabric of his racing life from now on hits Charles with the force of a gut punch. He swallows hard, bobbing his head in acknowledgement as you open the front door for him.

“Looking forward to it,” he lies through his teeth before turning on his heel and all but fleeing down the front steps.

He’s vaguely aware of you calling out something about having someone escort him through the grounds and to the main gate. But Charles doesn’t pause, can’t stop until he’s directed the powerful Ferrari back out onto the main roads and open air.

Only then does he finally let out the shuddering breath he’d been holding, the sweet Alpine breezes sweeping over him. He floors the accelerator, putting as much distance between himself and that fairytale estate as possible.

But no matter how fast or far he drives, he can’t outrun the image searing into his mind’s eye — you nestled so contentedly in Mark’s arms, so visibly adored and cherished. Just as you’d once been cradled in Charles’ own embrace, before he burned everything to ashes.

Blinking hard against the hot sting in his eyes, Charles white-knuckles the steering wheel and lets the endless stretches of winding road unfurl before him. There’s only one direction now — forward.

Always forward.

No looking back, no wistful what-ifs allowed. You’ve found the life and love you deserve after he shattered your world.

All he can do is wish you nothing but joy from a distance, even as his own heart disintegrates inside his chest with every step further away from you.

***

The bass line thrums through Charles’ body like a living thing as he signals for another round at the club’s private VIP bar. He can barely make out the sound of his own thoughts over the pulsating music, but that’s rather the point tonight. To drown out the ceaseless reel of memories and fragmented realizations in a haze of liquor and pounding rhythms.

“You sure about that?” The bartender has to shout to be heard, one sculpted eyebrow arching upwards as she eyes the growing collection of empty glasses. “I think you’ve had quite enough, sir.”

“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough,” Charles snaps back, the words slurring slightly as he slaps his platinum card down with more force than intended. “Just keep them coming.”

The woman’s dubious gaze flickers briefly to somewhere over his shoulder before she simply shrugs and moves to fill his latest order. Charles slumps forward with a harsh exhale, fingers digging into his sweat-dampened curls as the relentless bassline reverberates through his bones.

“Easy there, calamar.”

The familiar voice cuts through the noise as a firm hand clasps his shoulder. Pierre slides into the open stool beside him with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“I’m starting to think my invite for a fun night out may have been a mistake.” His eyes rove over the staggering collection of empty glasses and bottles before lifting to meet Charles’ glazed stare.

“Or more like a cry for help,” he mutters, pitching his voice to be heard clearly. “Want to talk about what’s got you in such a mood?”

Charles opens his mouth but all that comes out is a bitter bark of laughter. He reaches for his newly-arrived glass, downing half the amber liquid in one go as it burns all the way to his core.

“What’s there to talk about?” The words are thick and unwieldy on his tongue. “She’s gone. Moved on better than I ever could have with some … some rich prick who treats her like his personal princess.”

He waves a sloppy hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Guy is richer than God, probably spoils her rotten with jewels and furs and … and billion dollar villas overlooking the Alps.”

His voice cracks slightly on the last word and he has to blink rapidly against the unwelcome sting in his eyes. Pierre’s forehead creases further as he watches Charles raggedly drain the rest of his glass.

“I take it your little meeting with Y/N didn’t go well?” He pitches it as a careful question, one Charles shrugs listlessly at before reaching for the nearest full glass. Pierre’s hand shoots out, closing around Charles’ wrist to impede his progress.

“I think you’ve had quite enough of that for one night,” he declares firmly. “Unless you want security dragging your drunk ass out of here, that is.”

Charles tries feebly to tug his arm free but Pierre’s grip remains vise-like. His traitorous thoughts drift back to the image of Mark’s arm so casually looped around your waist, confident in his place at your side.

“What’s he got that I don’t?” The plaintive question slips out before he can bite it back. Charles swivels glassy eyes towards his friend and teammate. “Seriously, Pierre … what can Mateschitz offer her that I couldn’t?”

A heavy silence stretches out between them, punctuated only by the thunderous pulse of the music. Pierre holds his stare steadily, clearly weighing how much harsh truth Charles can handle in his current condition.

“Well … thirty-seven billion dollars is a decent start, I would guess.”

The matter-of-fact words hit like a sucker punch to the gut. Charles flinches as if physically struck, mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ of shock.

“Jesus, have some tact,” Pierre continues crisply. “Forget the money for a second — mate, he didn’t cheat on her. He has the basic decency to stay faithful. You know … the bare minimum requirement for a relationship?”

The dig bites deep, sparking a fresh flare of white-hot shame and regret in Charles’ core. He twists his captured wrist futilely once more before giving up and dropping his head to thunk dully against the bartop.

“I thought we were past rubbing salt in the wound,” he mumbles towards the gleaming wood surface.

Pierre sighs, his grip softening enough to pull his arm free at last. “We are, we are … mostly. But you can’t honestly expect me to sit here and help you feel sorry for yourself about another man treating Y/N right after you treated her so abysmally.”

Charles squeezes his eyes shut as your face swims into focus. The light in your eyes when Mark gazed at you, the simple intimacy you radiated together ...

“I miss her,” he whispers, each word carved from shards of anguish and loss. “I miss her so damn much. And now every time I have to see her at a race or schmoozing at an event, I’ll know exactly what I threw away for one night of selfishness.”

Fat tears leak from the corners of his screwed-shut eyes, tracing hot pathways down his cheeks as Pierre watches silently. After a long stretch, Charles finally cracks one eye open to peer blearily at his friend once more.

“I need to win her back,” he declares with as much conviction as he can muster through the alcoholic fog seeping into his brain. “I’m not over her, I’ll never be over her. There has to be a way to … to make things right again, don’t you think?”

Pierre regards him steadily, arms folded across his chest. “I think … you’re drunk off your ass and in no state to be making grand romantic gestures tonight.”

Charles waves a clumsy hand, nearly toppling his remaining drink in the process. “Not tonight. But … soon. Yeah, soon I’ll figure out what her new favorite flower is or some shit. Maybe a nice bottle of whatever top-shelf champagne she likes these days. Or … or I can dedicate a race win to her! Girls go gaga over that romantic shit, right?”

He watches Pierre’s expression morph into one of pure incredulity before his friend pinches the bridge of his nose hard, eyes screwing shut with a shake of his head.

“You’re not even hearing yourself right now, are you?” Pierre asks at last, infusing as much patience into his words as possible. “This isn’t about some flowers or a bottle of bubbly or delusionally thinking you have a chance to beat Red Bull this season. You completely decimated her trust in you and demolished the entire foundation of your relationship.”

Charles squirms uncomfortably at the brutal truth. Part of him wants to get up and stalk away in a final burst of tipsy petulance.

But the rest of him knows Pierre is simply being the voice of reason — the harsh reality check he so desperately needs right now, despite how it slices into his wounded pride.

“Look ...” Pierre seems to sense he’s veering into dangerous territory and softens his tone slightly. “I’m not trying to kick you while you’re down, I swear. But any chance of reconciling with Y/N will require so much more than a thoughtless grand gesture or gift.”

Slowly, Charles lifts his bleary gaze and locks eyes with his friend. Pierre holds the stare steadily, mouth set in a solemn line.

“It’ll take rebuilding the bedrock of your foundation — time, effort, and trust. Things you can’t buy or speed along, no matter how much you try.” A heavy pause settles between them before Pierre speaks again, more gently this time. “Maybe reconnecting with her is possible one day … or maybe not. But you owe it to her and yourself to give space for those open wounds to heal first.”

It’s not at all what Charles wants to hear right now. His instinct is still to barrel forward, to blaze a path of extravagant overtures until you melt back into his arms. But deep down, he knows Pierre is speaking the truth — he systematically torched something sacred and attempting to simply spackle over that devastation would be spitting in the face of your shared past.

Nodding slowly, Charles reaches up to swipe clumsily at the dampness on his cheeks. Pierre places a steadying hand on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“Come on, idiot. Let’s get you home before you really embarrass yourself out here.”

Charles doesn’t protest as Pierre slips off his stool and hauls him upright, looping one arm securely around his waist for support. As they navigate the pulsing crowd, he steals one last glimpse over his shoulder at the bar now shrinking away in the distance.

Perhaps this part of his story with you might be over, the final embers snuffed out. But somehow, some way, Charles vows to rekindle that spark again — even if it takes immeasurable time and effort to nurture it back from the smoldering ashes of his own making.

One thing is certain, though — any path forward will require him to douse these wallowing flames of self-pity first.

The pounding bass fades into a dull throb as Pierre guides them out into the cool night air. Charles blinks rapidly, the city’s twinkling lights swimming dizzily before his bleary eyes as his friend bundles him into the backseat of a waiting car.

“Just let me sleep it off,” he slurs as the plush leather seats engulf him. “I’ll be good as new in the morning.”

Pierre huffs out a wry chuckle as he slides in beside Charles, rapping his knuckles on the privacy partition to signal the driver. “Yeah, we’ll see about that. Once you’re properly re-hydrated and that tequila has run its course.”

The motion of the town car pulling away from the curb has Charles’ head lolling back against the headrest. He cracks one eye open to peer at his friend through his disheveled curls.

“I really do love her, you know?” The confession emerges soft and subdued, loaded with naked yearning. “Like … the love of my entire whole damn life, probably. How fucking stupid is that?”

He’s not sure if the dampness blurring his vision is from a fresh wave of moisture or simply the alcohol still sloshing through his system. Either way, Pierre’s gaze softens imperceptibly as he reaches out to give Charles’ knee a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ve all been certifiably stupid in the name of love before, believe me. The key is learning from those mistakes before moving forward.” A beat passes before he adds, “And for the record — I know you did love Y/N with everything you had, even when you monumentally fucked things up.”

Charles lets his eyes slip shut once more with a slow nod. “Then you know why I can’t just … let her go completely. Why I need to find a way to get back to her, even if takes years of making things right first.”

The words hang heavy between them, a tangled thicket of resolution and remorse. Finally, Pierre exhales a soft sigh.

“I know. But that’s a bridge to cross another day, when you’re sober and can actually string two coherent thoughts together.” He gives Charles’ shoulder a light shove. “For now, focus on putting one foot in front of the other and staying hydrated, yeah?”

Despite himself, the corners of Charles’ lips quirk upwards at his friend’s gentle ribbing. He fumbles blindly for the window switch, lowering the glass to allow a blessed gust of fresh air to roll in and fill the cabin.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Just … don’t hold your breath on me moving on anytime soon.” His eyes flicker open once more to meet Pierre’s steady gaze. “I’m kind of stubborn that way when it comes to the things I want most.”

Pierre holds his stare for a long beat before giving a slow shake of his head, a wry smile tugging at his own lips. “Believe me, mate — I’m well aware.”

They lapse into companionable silence for the remainder of the drive, the city’s twinkling skyline gliding past in a blur. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol still sloshing through his veins, a flicker of hope rekindles in Charles’ chest.

You might have slipped from his grasp, but that doesn’t necessarily mean your paths can’t someday and somehow intersect once more.

All it will take is the courage to keep inching forward, one stumbling step at a time.

No matter how many times the darkness tries to swallow him whole.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as Charles kills the engine, the high-pitched cheers swelling to near-riotous levels.

He tips his head back against the headrest for a beat, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. P2 at the Singapore Grand Prix isn’t cause for disappointment — he drove one hell of a race and pushed his machinery to its limits.

But the unbridled pandemonium echoing all around paints a stark reminder that second-place means precious little tonight.

As he cracks open his helmet visor, the screams seem to multiply tenfold. Charles squints against the blinding flash of a thousand camera flashes as the feverish celebration kicks into high gear. Of course the crowd is whipped into such a frenzy — a certain Dutchman has done it again.

Max Verstappen just secured his fourth consecutive World Drivers’ Championship.

Charles watches almost numbly as a swarm of bodies in dark blue coverings rushes the track. The Red Bull mechanics, crew members, and team management spill out in an ever expanding tide, swarming towards parc fermé. All desperate for their piece of history, to bask in the glory of their latest accomplishment.

Bracing one hand against the sweltering engine cover, Charles hauls himself up and out of the cockpit with as much energy as he can muster. He plants his feet wide on the sizzling asphalt, scanning the chaos overtaking the pit lane in search of … there.

You cut an unmistakable figure in understated elegance among the churning sea of navy. Even from here, Charles can make out the burgundy sheath dress clinging to your curves, the soft tendrils of hair escaping your chignon. You’re a vision wreathed in smiles as you follow closely behind Mark, the two of you buffeted but undeterred as you fight against the tide of bodies.

For a split second, Charles allows himself the simple indulgence of drinking in your radiance. Seeing the way your cheeks bloom with color from the heat and exhilaration. How your delighted laughter seems to sparkle in the humid night air, mingling seamlessly with the roars of jubilation.

You’re so clearly drunk on the evening’s euphoria, caught up in the intoxicating thrill of witnessing sheer greatness on display. Even standing halfway across the track, Charles can sense the infectious joy rolling off you in waves.

He’s always loved seeing you like this — passionate and alive in a way that sets his heart pounding. Though he knows now, with a ferocious ache, that particular spark isn’t for him anymore.

As if to underscore the point, Mark suddenly grinds to a halt right in the middle of the sea of revelers. You plow into his back with a breathless giggle, clearly caught off guard. That’s when Charles notices the obvious struggle as you try to regain your footing, wobbling precariously atop a set of wicked-looking stilettos.

Even from this distance, he can read the brief look of concern that pinches Mark’s brow as he turns towards you. The chaos of the celebration fades into background noise as Charles watches helplessly as Mark reaches for your arm to help steady you.

You wave him off with a warm smile, clearly unbothered as you simply shrug out of the towering heels completely. Mark lunges to catch the discarded shoes before they can get swallowed up by the crowd.

There’s a brief pause as the two of you seem to communicate wordlessly. Then, in one smooth motion, Mark pivots and crouches down in front of you, gesturing towards his broad back. Your laughter rings out bright and delighted as you clamber on, effortlessly looping your arms around his neck as he straightens with a grunt.

Just like that, you’re ensconced within the protective circle of Mark’s arms, held securely in place on his back as he continues walking through the celebrating crowd. From his vantage point, Charles can just make out the matching beams you both have plastered on as you sway happily with each step.

It looks so … easy. Natural and uncomplicated in a way Charles’ entire existence seems incapable of obtaining these days. He drinks in the vision of you nuzzling sweetly against Mark’s neck, leaving a feather-light kiss of pure affection on the hinge of his jaw before snuggling back down. Two people completely in sync and unabashedly in love.

Despite the sweltering humidity, an icy chill washes over Charles from somewhere deep within. He’s all too aware of precisely what he’s witnessing right in front of him.

You’ve exchanged his partnership — one defined by betrayal and brokenness — for something far greater.

Charles huffs out a dry, mirthless breath as he sinks back against the sweat-dampened chassis of his idle car, feeling painfully adrift despite the pulsing rush of people all around him. He catches one final glimpse of you and Mark before the crowd finally sweeps you up — the picture of contentment nestled so trustingly against your beloved’s back. Watching on as your dazzling smile lights up the night with each joyful step you draw nearer to the championship celebration

He knows with soul-cleaving certainty in that moment that you’ve likely never felt as cherished or prized in your entire life as Mark must make you feel every single day.

Meanwhile, Charles is perpetually exiled here on the outskirts, unable to do anything but bear witness to the other man’s spoils. So close to his own desires yet barred from ever seizing them for his own.

Always the usurped, forever second fiddle, constantly relegated to P2 in work and life.

With a jaw so tightly clenched it threatens to crack his molars, Charles wrenches his gaze away at last. He feels the first angry prick of heated moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes and hates himself for the painfully vulnerable reaction.

This is his self-manufactured hell, after all. He has no one to blame but his own selfish impulses and cowardly weakness for tossing that bond with you into the incinerator. For annihilating the relationship you had built over years of steadfast partnership in one careless night.

So he’ll swallow down the bitterness and lingering heartache as penance for his sins. Compartmentalize the image of you balanced so peacefully in another man’s embrace, so patently adored and worshiped as you deserve.

He at least owes you that mercy — to bear the whole of his consequences in dignified silence as you bask in the victor’s glow you were always meant for.

1K notes · View notes

sungstars · 3 months ago

Text

slut me out | njm x fem!reader

i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.

word count: 2.8k (not proof read)

content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!

author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!

“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”

jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”

you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”

“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”

did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.

“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”

“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”

“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.

focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.

realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.

you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.

looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.

easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.

perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.

you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.

“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”

the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.

“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”

rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”

jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.

“you’re such a dick.”

“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."

"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."

jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.

you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.

"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."

jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.

"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."

a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.

his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.

you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.

you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.

jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.

pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.

"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."

jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."

how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.

you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.

moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."

smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?

"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."

"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."

a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.

"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."

a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.

jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.

you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.

"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."

stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.

"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."

if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.

once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.

you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.

spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.

jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”

you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”

the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.

he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”

your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.

without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.

"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."

his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.

you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.

jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.

you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.

the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.

whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.

jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.

you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.

"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."

cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."

he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.

sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.

too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.

he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.

"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"

"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.

"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"

jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."

he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"

you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.

"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."

degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.

"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."

jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."

you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."

his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.

jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.

"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."

all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."

jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.

you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."

jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."

when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.

you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.

the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.

"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."

"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."

with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.

your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.

"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"

"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."

one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."

he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.

once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.

"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."

end!

#nct dream imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin smut #na jaemin hard hours #na jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin hard hours #jaemin hard thoughts #jaemin imagines

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reidmania · 5 months ago

Note

Hey😁 you said request were open and i was wondering you could write a spencer reid fic where him and the reader get into a petty argument or something and he says something a little mean and has to grovel to the reader because she’s upset? I love your work by the way and you can add or take away whatever you want👍😊

not so funny | spencer reid

summary; after a rough day, Spencer accidentally takes his frustration out on you leading to a lot of guilt and grovelling.

warnings; spencer is mean, fem reader, he calls reader a bitch but he makes up for it, arguments, hurt x comfort, crying, it ends up being pretty cute.

an; ITS MY BIRTHDAY GUYS!!!!

“Come on spencer” You almost groaned as your voice itched with irritation, your hands flew up before dropping by your side. You were stood in the kitchen, trying to make dinner but the pasta on the stove and vegetables half cut on the counter were long forgotten.

Spencer spluttered, “You aren’t listening to me!” He groaned, bringing his hands up to his face dragging them down over his eyes as he turned his body away from you to the side. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes — this entire argument was pointless.

It started all because Spencer had come home after a bad day and was slightly snappy with you, just briefly and when you made a joke about it — he didn’t seem to take it as a joke.

“It was a joke — God” You sigh, turning back to the vegetables you were dicing before he walked in the door after work, but honestly with the annoyance bubbling in your chest you doubted you should be responsible for a knife right now.

His eyes widened, “But it’s not funny! You were just being a bitch” He mutters out, shaking his head before the realisation of his words fell on him the same time they fell on you.

Your entire face fell. Never had Spencer called you anything like that — he had commented repeatedly how much it pissed him off when peoples partners called them names like that. He had never been anything other than gentle with you.

He said your name as his eyes fell on your face. Before he could even open his mouth to apologise you were pushing past him to walk away. His hands reached out to grab ahold of your wrist as he repeated your name but you only flung his arm away from yours and you continued walking to the bedroom.

Spencer stood with his head in his hands as he knew better than to follow you right now. All the anger he had felt from the day that had built up slipped away when he saw the look on your face. — Hurt. He hurt you all because he had a crappy day.

He heard the bedroom door slam shut causing his shoulders to flinch slightly. He wanted nothing more than to follow you and spend the rest of the night apologising to you, he didn’t think there was anything he could do to express how sorry he was.

But he knew better than that. He knew it would just annoy you more if he walked in there right now and that was the last thing he wanted.

Instead he spent the next hour in the kitchen finishing the dinner you had started making — He knew wouldn’t taste nearly half as good as it would if you made it, his cooking skills no where near as good but he found himself doing it anyways.

He relished in the slight distraction but it only did so much as his mind continued travelling to you and the words that had left his mouth. He didn’t mean them. You weren’t a bitch. You were nothing of the sorts and the fact that he had even let that slip sent guilt coursing through his veins.

The day had been nothing but shit. To say the least. Everything was going wrong and Spencer couldn’t shake the annoyance. It didn’t help that right before leaving he had gotten into an argument with Morgan about something on a past case.

He didn’t mean to take his bad day out on you, he never did.

He finished the dinner, but the appetite he once had disappeared as it replaced the spot in his stomach with nothing but guilt. His feet trailed towards the door of your shared bedroom.

Every step was filled with dread as his mind traveled to every possibility. His heart shattered into a thousand little pieces as he heard your soft hiccup through the door.

“Honey?” He brought his hand up to knock on the door gently with his knuckles. His tone was the softest he had used his day — completely the opposite to what it had been the last time he spoke to you.

You didn’t reply but you went quiet. Probably trying to hide the fact you were crying. That made him feel worse — he deserved to feel worse. He knew that.

“Dinner is ready.. Are you hungry” He asked, not pushing his way through the door he was talking to you through. There was a pause on the other side of the door.

You, were curled up on the middle of your bed. Spencer’s hoodie was tugged up over your knees as they pulled to your chest. Your face was blotchy and scarred by the soft tears that stained your cheeks.

You hadn’t been able to shake Spencer’s words no matter how much you tried. You knew he was angry and had a bad day but you couldn’t help but be beyond mad — unfortunately when you are mad it ended in tears.

You wiped the tears from your face as if that would have any effect on the sound of your voice. “No.” You replied, trying to put on the most secure voice you could muster up but it wavered none the less and stayed quiet.

Your heart pounded as you closed in on yourself. “Can I come in?” He asked.

You wanted to say no, push him away and tell him to go fuck yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, a small part of you aching for his comfort no matter how mad you were, you wanted to hear him apologise, even if you failed to believe it.

“Okay.” Your voice was small.

The door was being pushed open gently a moment after and you avoided meeting Spencer’s gaze, keeping your gaze fixated on the plush of the crisp white sheets that covered the bed.

If you did look at him, you would’ve seen his heart break all in his features at the sight of your tear stained face. His feet pattered towards you as he sat down on the edge of the bed, a respectable distance away from you, not wanting to push any boundaries.

“Im sorry” He said quietly, it sounded genuine and it burnt a way into your chest. You never brought your eyes to meet his as your mind failed to comprehend a response. You didn’t have a whole lot to say.

So instead, you just nod.

He frowns. “I am really - Im so sorry.” He said, shifting uncomfortably on the bed, eyes trailing over your face, uncomfortable silence washing over the room as he tried to figure out what to say next. “I had a shit day — which isn’t an excuse. I should’ve never called you that. I shouldn’t have taken my bad day out on you” He muttered.

You nodded curtly. “Okay.” Was all you said in response. There wasn’t a lot you could muster up as despite his apology his words burnt into the back of your mind, leaving a engravememt on your brain.

He frowned deepened. He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness and he didn’t expect it. He hurt you and he apologised hated that.

“I love you.” He said softly. Even if you didn’t believe his apology he wanted you to at least believe that he loved you.

You just nodded feeling a lump in your throat as your chest grew impossibly tight. You kept your arms wrapped tightly around your knees, holding them close to your chest almost as if to try and numb the burning sensation that made its way through to your ribcage.

You didn’t answer.

“I’ll leave you a plate in the microwave okay?” He muttered after a moment of silence. The silence dawned heavy and cold. You didn’t bother replying as he stood up.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before a soft sigh left his lips. “Im really sorry” He apologised again.

You didn’t see him again that night, you assumed he slept on the couch which made you feel slightly bad but you were so.. hurt.

The argument was stupid. He knew that, he knew it was a joke and any other time it wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest, he hated how the one time it did he took it out on you.

The next day you didn’t see Spencer when you woke up, you assumed he went to work which made a puddle of relief fill your stomach as you realised you were able to self indulge in your feelings while he was away.

You missed him.

The door opened at 7:34, a lot later than when Spencer usually arrived home and for a while you were genuinely considering maybe he wasn’t going to come home.

You turned to face him as he stepped into the kitchen where you were, the same positioning the two of you had been in when the argument first arose.

“Hi.” He said softly, placing his car keys on the counter. You looked over him and guilt fell as you he looked a mess.

He pulled his arm from behind his back, handing you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. He chewed at his lip nervously as you didn’t say anything but took the flowers from his hand, looking over them.

Your favourites.

“I know flowers aren’t an apology, thats not why I got them” He said quietly, you remembered a conversation you had with him about hating how guys got their girlfriends flowers as an apology — and he agreed, going on to say that guys should be getting flowers constantly.

You perked up slightly as you furrowed your brows in confusion — if not an apology why now.

“The last ones I got you are browning.” He said, reading your look of confusion. Your lips pursed as you looked over at the vase you always kept the flowers Spencer got you in. They were in fact browning.

He dragged his hand through his hair as he placed a grocery bag on the table, before looking back at you. “You aren’t a bitch, you weren’t acting like a bitch, if anything I was.” He said, taking a few things out of the bag.

Your favourite snacks, your favourite drinks and a small velvet box.

Your heart tightened slightly.

He took a step towards you and you stayed in place, pulling your eyes away from the items on the table. “Im really sorry I ever said that. It was stupid and disgusting of me” He hesitantly brought his hand up to your face.

You tensed slightly but didn’t flinch away, allowing him to push strands of hair behind your ear. “You are gorgeous, inside and out. There isn’t a bitchy bone in your body and Im sorry.” He said gently.

“I am so mad at you” You said, the first proper thing you have said to him in days. He knows it shouldn’t but just hearing you talk made his pulse relax slightly — and then speed up all over again.

“Good.” He said gently, “Thats- Its a good thing. You should be mad.” He said softly, “Id never want it to be a situation where you allowed that.. where it happened often enough for you not to be mad. Be mad, mad is good. Don’t be silent” He said as his thumb brushed gently over your cheek.

You hummed. You knew deep down silent treatment was the worst for Spencer, but honestly last night you had nothing to say. “You can yell at me, scream — hit me if you want” His tone was so gentle. You just scoffed, “Im not going to hit you” You said.

He smiled, “I know.”

“You have a lot of making up to do you know.” You pushed out, trying to ignore the way your face instinctively leant into the warmth of his hand, relishing in the soft roughness of his hands.

He nodded, “I’ll do anything, sweet heart.” He said and his tone held nothing but genuine emotion.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Okay.. Spence I just said that” You huffed out. A smile lit his lips, he leant down to place a gentle kiss to the top of your head, you tried to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay.” He repeated making you groan but you were smiling nonetheless.

Spencer spent every second apologising for the next two weeks, buying you everything he saw that he thought you would like and going above and beyond until you physically and verbally said that you forgave him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds show #criminal minds x reader #criminalmindsfans #spencer criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #wattpad #criminal minds one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst

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flickering-chandelier · 6 months ago

Text

You Matter to Me

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Reader is the mom friend, and she’s very good at it. While she is always taking care of everyone else, Cassian decides to be the one to take care of her.

Based on this request! 🩷

Word Count: 2.6k

Cassian couldn’t help but laugh as you weaved your way through the dining room at the river house with Nyx on your hip, helping set up everything on the table while Rhysand and Feyre were finishing a meeting with Azriel and Amren in their study.

“Oh, the wine!” you said suddenly.

“Do you want me to get it?” Cassian asked.

As he knew you would, you answered cheerfully, “Nope, I’ve got it.”

“At least let me hold the kid. I don’t want you falling down the stairs,” he said, reaching for Nyx and taking him from your arms before you could protest.

You smiled at him before disappearing to the wine cellar.

He was endlessly impressed by your incessant energy, never sitting down until everyone else was settled first, always the one to jump up and grab something if somebody needed it. Since you had come around, it felt like everything was always in order.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too much. If you were always taking care of everyone else, who would take care of you?

His attention was pulled when you glided back into the room, placing wine bottles on either side of the table, before the room filled with people, the rest of the inner circle spilling out of Rhysand’s study.

Feyre smiled at Cassian, her arms outstretched to take Nyx. “I’m surprised she let you take him.”

“Practically had to wrestle him from her hands,” he teased, smiling at you as you sidled up next to Feyre.

“He’s being dramatic,” you said.

“Somehow, I don’t think he is,” Feyre smiled at you. “You don’t have to take care of us all the time, you know.”

You shrugged, your eyes shining as you smiled down at Nyx. “I don’t know how to act any other way.”

Maybe we should help change that, Cassian thought.

Cassian’s eyes were on you all throughout dinner, as you laughed with Feyre, bouncing Nyx on your lap so she could eat. He hadn’t noticed before just how many things you did for everyone else. Feyre’s glass was empty, and likely before she even noticed herself, you were smiling at her, pouring more wine. Nyx knocked Azriel’s spoon off the table and in a heartbeat, you were handing him the clean one that you hadn’t used. Cassian himself unsurprisingly required another napkin and without looking up, you were reaching to pick one up and hand it to him across the table.

It seemed effortless, like second nature, but he knew it couldn’t have been. It must be exhausting to think about everyone else.

As dinner came to a close, you rose from your chair, collecting plates and dirty napkins. Feyre stood up to help, and Cassian found himself doing the same. Azriel looked at him with a raised brow, and Cassian just shrugged, snatching up Az’s discarded napkin and Nyx’s floor spoon.

He followed you into the kitchen, where you already had the sink full of water and were soaking the plates. Feyre had gone back out to collect more from the table.

You looked surprised as you noticed him. “Do you need something?” You asked.

Cassian tried not to be offended. “No. You think I would only come talk to you if I needed something?”

He tossed the spoon into the sink behind you and threw the fistfull of napkins on the counter to be washed before turning back to you, leaning against the counter where you were, his arm nearly touching yours. “I want to help,” he said quietly. “Put me to work.”

Shrugging, you said, “No, I just… Well, what are you doing?”

You waved your hand dismissively and turned away from him, going back to the sink. “You don’t have to do that.”

“So?”

Cassian moved around you, cutting off your path. You looked up at him exasperated, and he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. “Neither do you! You don’t even live here.”

“You know who does live here?” Cassian asked, moving in front of you again as you tried to side step around him. “The High Lord and High Lady. You do know they have servants, too right?”

“Servants deserve a break,” you said, finally looking up into his eyes.

“So do you,” he murmured. Without thinking, he reached forward and brushed a piece of hair that had fallen on your forehead behind your ear.

He heard your breath catch and warmth spread through him.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Cassian smirked again. “See? You know I’m right. Put me to work.”

You blinked, then rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you said, “Fine. Can you grab the rest of the napkins from the table?”

He gladly did as you asked.

---

From that day, Cassian made it his mission to be the one looking after you.

Not that he would let you know that, of course. He tried to be stealthy about it, so you wouldn’t shut down the whole operation.

Most of the normal group was outside at the river house, enjoying the warm summer day. Cassian sidled up next to you as you were talking to Feyre and handed you a glass of lemonade.

“Oh!” you said, surprised, but clearly pleased. “Thank you.”

It looked like you had needed it too, because not long after, your glass was empty. Cassian broke off the conversation that he was having with Azriel and wandered over to you casually, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Having a good day?” He asked, pulling the glass from your hand as you smiled up at him.

“I am.”

“Glad to hear it,” he beamed, before heading back into the house and filling the glass up again.

When he returned with it, you raised your eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

Cassian furrowed his brow as he passed you the lemonade. “What do you mean?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, like you were studying him, but you brushed it off. “Nevermind. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he smiled. “Really.”

---

Cassian was acting weird.

Feyre had been your best friend for years, and you were pretty sure Cassian had talked to you more in the last few weeks than in all of the previous years combined.

You could feel his eyes on you often, and he was popping up next to you seemingly constantly, refilling your drink or handing you a snack from the kitchen. He even seemed to know which snacks and drinks were your favorites, though you weren’t sure how he would have figured that out.

It was sweet, you supposed. If you really let yourself stop to think about it, you were willing to admit that it was nice to be taken care of a little for once. You got so busy looking after everybody else, you truly couldn’t remember the last time somebody had cared to pay attention to what you needed.

But, at the same time, you felt a little bad, and you couldn’t understand why on earth Cassian suddenly cared so much.

Cassian himself interrupted your thoughts, coming up behind you and wrapping a shawl around your shoulders. You realized that you were holding your arms together over your stomach, shielding yourself from the evening wind.

You raised an eyebrow at him in question.

“What?” he smiled, his hands lingering for another moment on your shoulders. “You were shivering.”

“Was I, really?” You asked, surprised. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He leveled you with a remarkably serious expression, considering how easy going he always was. The two of you were back towards the river house, away from the rest of the group who were gathered in clumps around the rest of the yard, laughing and drinking.

“How do you always notice what other people need, but you give no thought to yourself?” He asked, his eyes softening as he looked down at you.

You grappled for an answer, feeling slightly paralyzed under his gaze. “I don’t know,” you finally said honestly.

Cassian offered you a sad smile, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly. “You hungry?”

You laughed. “A little, I guess?”

He smirked, nodding his head to the house, then pulling you forward by the hand.

The two of you reached the massive kitchen. You started rifling through the pantry and Cassian placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back against his chest.

You embarrassingly let out a squeak of surprise. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to twist around to look at him, but he pushed you toward the counter, spun you around and lifted you to sit on it.

He grinned, his hands still on your hips as you gaped at him. His eyes were locked on yours, and you felt your heart racing, but you were trying desperately to not let him see it.

“Stay,” he commanded teasingly as he finally stepped away, but you knew he meant it.

As he rummaged through the kitchen, you tried to steady your breathing. You had to admit, you had been thinking about Cassian a lot more often lately. And that… what he just did… that would not help matters.

By the time Cassian was back towering over you, you felt more normal. He presented your favorite snack with a smile.

You took it, thanking him. He hopped up on the counter next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

After eating in silence for a few moments, you turned to him. “How did you know this is my favorite?”

He shrugged, turning his smile on you. You tried to ignore the way that your heart melted. “I pay attention.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Cassian seemed to contemplate for a moment, his easy smile gone. He finally looked back to you, his eyes smoldering, and said, “You matter to me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he gazed at you, your cheeks warming, and you unfortunately could not think of a single thing to say.

Suddenly, footsteps were coming toward you and the trance was broken as you looked toward the door to find Feyre striding into the kitchen.

She looked surprised to see the two of you sitting together, and you knew her well enough to understand what her answering smile meant.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, hopped off the counter, quickly thanked Cassian, and retreated back outside.

---

Your mind had been reeling with thoughts of Cassian for days. Something in the air felt different between you in that kitchen, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant.

A loud knock on your door roused you from your ever spiraling thoughts.

Cassian was grinning as you opened your apartment door, holding a bag of food out to you. “I hope you didn’t have lunch plans.”

You gaped at him. “You’re feeding me in my own house now?”

“I thought I’d mix things up a little bit,” he said, nodding his head inside. “So, are you going to let me in?”

After studying him for another moment, you stepped aside. He walked right past you, going to the kitchen table and spreading the food over its surface.

Giving in, you went to your cabinet to get cups and plates, but Cassian stilled you with his hands on your hips once again. “No, you don’t.”

“Cassian,” you huffed as he pulled you back toward the table. “You don’t even know where anything is!”

He pushed your shoulders down lightly until you were sitting in a chair. “You can point, can’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “This feels excessive.”

“I disagree,” he winked at you before going to the cabinet that you were just at, pulling down a few plates, then placing them on the table.

“Cups?” he asked.

Sighing, you pointed to another cabinet and he went to it, jovially pulling glasses out and filling them with water.

Within a few minutes, Cassian was piling food onto your plate, watching you intently as he ate from his own.

“What is going on with you?” You asked.

Casually, he said, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Why have you been hovering around, feeding me, bringing me jackets?”

The side of his mouth turned up into a lopsided grin. “Do you want me to stop?”

The question was not what you were expecting. You weren’t sure that you were willing to admit to him how much he had been affecting you yet. You sat back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Answer my question.”

His smile only grew. “Answer mine.”

You raised an eyebrow, determined. “I asked first.”

Cassian laughed. “Okay, fine.”

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him, his eyes fixed on you. “You really want to know the truth?”

You nodded, forcing yourself to keep your eyes locked on his.

His teasing demeanor dropped, his expression suddenly serious. “I was watching you at dinner with everyone a few weeks ago. And you were running around, taking care of everybody else the entire night. It was like you didn’t even think about it. It’s amazing how you can do that, and I know that everyone around you is thankful for it. But…” he hesitated, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “But, it also made me sad. I started wondering if anybody ever took care of you. And I figured I could be that person.”

You had to take a deep breath, your mind reeling.

When you were silent for a few more moments, Cassian continued. “You don’t have to take care of everybody, you know. You can slow down. You can relax, and let someone else help you out, too.” He smiled slightly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to show you.”

Something seemed to snap in you then. You hadn’t even realized how badly you had been wanting someone to help you, to pay attention to you, to take care of you for once. The fact that Cassian had noticed even before you did how badly you needed someone to be there for you made it even more unbelievable.

Your feet seemed to move without your brain’s permission, stepping right up to Cassian, cupping his face in your hands, and kissing him.

Cassian responded immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you to sit on his lap. He weaved his hands through your hair, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin at your waist where your shirt had ridden up the slightest bit.

His lips trailed down your neck, and he murmured, “You never answered my question.”

“Don’t stop,” you panted.

He chuckled into your neck before kissing you on the lips again. “Don’t stop kissing you? Or don’t stop taking care of you?”

“Both,” you smiled, taking his face in your hands and kissing him again.

“You got it,” Cassian smiled against your mouth.

After a few moments, you pulled back, tracing the edge of his jaw with your thumb. “Thank you, Cassian. Really,” you said quietly.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t even realize how badly I wanted someone else to watch out for me for once.”

Cassian kissed you gently. “I’m here for you now. Whatever you need. Whether you know it or not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into his neck, hardly believing it.

---

It took some time, but you eventually became more used to Cassian’s eyes on you, to not be shocked when he handed you a plate of food or washed the dishes for you.

You were still very much the mom friend who took care of everything, as it was in your nature. But you now knew that you had someone looking after you, too. And you couldn’t be more thankful, as Cassian sidled up to you, kissing you on the temple and handing you a glass of water.

“Thank you,” you beamed.

Cassian wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a kiss. “Anytime.”

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