#from answering these on time to writing in the same tense for both of these snippets
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
omar-rudeberg · 7 months ago
Note
14 and 19 for the writing asks :]
14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.
this is !!!!!!!!!! hard !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ok here we go:
The first time Wilhelm wandered to the store for fresh milk and eggs and didn't notice a single burning stare pinned to his back as he did so, he returned to their apartment - heart beating too fast - closed the front door, leant back against it and burst into tears. Finally.
(Simon's head whipped up from the kitchen island, visible from Wilhelm's statued position in the entryway, and he gently placed the cup measure of flour down.
"Oh my- Wille. Oh my god," Simon stuttered out, moving quickly toward Wilhelm's trembling form. "What happened? What- What did they say?"
"They didn't," Wilhelm whispered, tipping his head back against the door and inhaling into his diaphram. He exhaled shakily, passing the canvas bag of groceries toward Simon's outstretched hand. Then accepted it when Simon bypassed the milk and eggs, instead cradling Wilhelm's cheek in one hand to bring their gazes into each other. Wilhelm smiled down at his boyfriend, unable to believe they'd got here, from where they'd started. (Front page news.) "They didn't," he said, still a whisper. "They didn't even see me."
Wilhelm's breath caught on a hiccough, high in his throat, and Simon rescued the groceries, gently lowering them to the floor, before gathering Wilhelm close as he falls apart. Finally.)
SORRY I CANT FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS I CANT EVEN READ
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.
the last excerpt was too nice so here this one's filthy so sorry maybe or maybe you're welcome? under the cut for obvious reasons
He pulls Wilhelm's hair tighter on his next thrust, getting so fucking rough with him now. But seeing how much Wilhelm needs this, isn't sorry in the slightest.
"Hands up baby," Simon grunts, "hold on to the headboard for me so I can use you good, my darling."
Wilhelm complies, instantly, and Simon immediately misses the broad hands on him that were roaming his back, pulling his hair, and cradling him close. Wilhelm's eyes flutter closed, though, as he grips the headboard, surrendering himself fully, holy, and Simon doesn't regret a thing.
curious?
19 notes · View notes
aperrywilliams · 10 days ago
Text
Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)
Tumblr media
------------------ 
Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist
------------------
Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.
Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.
Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)
Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.
A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.
---------------
The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.
BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.
People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.
"Can I help you?"
You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.
You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.
"Oh God, Spencer?"
A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.
"(Y/N)? Wow..."
Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.
"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.
A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"
Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.
"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.
And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.
Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.
"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"
Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."
"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.
"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"
Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.
"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"
"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"
What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.
Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.
"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.
You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."
"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.
"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.
"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.
"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"
Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.
"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.
"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.
"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.
"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.
"When we were at college," you add.
You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.
"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.
"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"
After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"
"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.
"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.
"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.
"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."
And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.
"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.
"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.
"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.
"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.
"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."
Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.
"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.
"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"
"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."
"Cool."
Cool? What does that mean?
A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.
Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.
"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.
"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"
It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.
"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."
And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.
----------
From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.
Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.
A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.
"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.
"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.
"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"
Spencer huffs through his nostrils.
"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.
"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"
Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.
Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."
"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"
"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."
"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.
"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.
"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"
Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"
"And that will stop you?"
A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.
---------
Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.
But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.
You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.
With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.
Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.
"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.
"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."
"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."
It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?
"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.
"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"
You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."
"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.
"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.
"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"
The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.
"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."
Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.
A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.
'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'
Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?
You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.
"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.
"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.
"Will you say yes?"
"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.
"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."
Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.
---------
It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.
You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.
He is just being nice.
Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.
Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.
"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.
"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.
"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.
"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"
Weird is an understatement, you think.
"You are right. Kind of it is."
You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.
"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."
"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."
"Great!"
You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.
"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.
"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."
"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"
"Of course," Spencer agrees.
"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.
Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.
"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."
You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.
"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.
"Almost two years," you admit.
Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.
Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.
"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.
"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."
Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.
Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.
You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.
"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."
You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.
"I'm still that obvious?"
"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.
"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."
Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"
The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.
"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.
You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'
"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."
"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.
"No beating around the bushes, uh?"
Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."
Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.
"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."
Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.
Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.
It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.
"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.
"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."
'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.
"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"
Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?
"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.
Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."
He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."
Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.
It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...
"Do you think we made a mistake?"
Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.
You look at him, baffled. "What?"
"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"
You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?
"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."
"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.
"Did you?"
"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."
A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.
"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."
Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.
He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.
"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."
Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.
"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."
"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.
"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."
You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?
You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.
---------
Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.
Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.
Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.
Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.
"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.
"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.
You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.
"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.
"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.
"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.
"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.
"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.
"You fucking kidding me!"
"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.
"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"
"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.
"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.
"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"
You have questioned yourself the same for years.
Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.
If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.
"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."
The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.
"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.
"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.
You look at him, pretending not to understand.
"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"
"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."
"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."
That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.
"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.
It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.
When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.
"Are you okay?"
You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.
"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.
"Yeah?"
"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.
"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.
"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.
Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.
"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"
Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.
-
You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.
Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."
-
Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.
"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"
"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.
"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.
"What?"
"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."
Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.
"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.
You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.
"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."
"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.
-
As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.
"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.
"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."
"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.
"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.
"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."
-----------
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.
Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.
What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.
'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.
But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?
Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.
Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.
'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'
Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.
"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"
And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.
-----------
"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.
"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."
Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."
---------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
828 notes · View notes
tonixe · 4 months ago
Note
hii i love ur writing and the k you for the noir fic!! there’s not enough content for the boys and i appreciate it so much!! can i request jealous homelander x reader? tyia!
♱ — rapacious — ♱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: I was itching, with no craving to make a homelander fic, and ideas just ran through me, but thank you anon for requesting this, and letting my devious idea run free. P.S. Im not sure bout that black noir fic, this was asked in July, but yk thank you for still requesting <3. Btw H/N is hero name.
WARNING: oral sex, p in the v, no condom we fuck raw, creampies, non-con, tw: homelander, gagging, cursing, non-con, threats, forced breeding and nudity.
PAIRING: jealous! homelander x reader
WORD COUNTER: 2.1k
Tumblr media
Life with Homelander was great, something so great that it makes you go insane, crazy...good crazy may be bad for some, but you could take it, right?
Vought, was another thing, watching over your shoulder and making sure everything went well, I mean with you there were a lot fewer casualties than usual. Soon things got less complicated with Edgar and Madelyn being gone from Vought, basically Homelander leading the company with Ashley as a puppet.
It was chaotic per se, where Homelander's watching eye was everywhere in the building. His leadership didn't make anything better but worse. With the seven keeping on being replaced and disappearing mysteriously, surprisingly you were still there with the same everything, no new rebrand, no nothing just staying in place.
You didn't mind it at all, I mean you still had a job and were still getting paid. Even with the weird shift of Black noir, instead of his quiet demeanor, he was talkative which was a change. It was evident it wasn't noir and everyone in the seven knew it, but nobody questioned it. You didn't mind but preferred the change, and even started talking to him.
He was a little better than old noir, not in combat but in being amusing, even spending time with outside meetings and regular superhero activities.
"So how the fuck did you manage to even fly like that?" You asked while you walked with him down the hallway,
"I have no idea, it just happened?" Black Noir II shrugged, you nodded at his words as you took a sip of the peanut butter frappuccino from Vought's cafe, it was a plus that he wasn't allergic to peanuts like the old noir. It wasn't a glow-up from the old noir but a plus. You two chatted as you got into the elevator, it was abruptly stopped by a red, white, and blue cape fluttering into wedging between you both, making you step back, it was Homelander.
The atmosphere immediately got tense than it was once a carefree mood, it was quiet.
"Good morning Homelander," you said, it was met with a nod from him, "Morning Sir," Black Noir said to him, only for him to glare at him, "Don't fucking talk" Homelander ordered, clearly annoyed that he was talking.
It was suffocating being in the elevator, you just took a sip of your frappuccino, praying for the elevator to open up quickly.
Guess your answers were answered rather quickly, as the doors of the huge elevator opened to the meeting room, the giant seven table in front of you.
The Deep, Sage, Firecracker, and A-train were already in their seats. "Good morning sir" The deep stood up, saluting him which made you laugh a little. You immediately took your seat next to Firecracker, and the meeting started. It was a blur to you, something like finding the leak in Vought, which you had many questions about.
The whole meeting was led by a different Sage, your eyes flicked towards Homelander, he was staring at Black Noir. You averted your eyes away,
God, you have to pay attention more often.
You couldn't help but take a sip of peanut butter frappuccino, "Would you fucking stop" Homelander's voice interrupted Sage's presentation, all attention was at him and he was staring directly at you.
"Um...Sorry" You hesitating looked back at him, and you felt eyes on you. You couldn't help but your heart to beat faster,
You watched Homelander rubbed his head in annoyance, closing his eyes before staring to you, "Could you slurp any louder?" He said, his voice dripping with annoyance and sarcasm.
"Sorry" You muttered, putting it back where it was,
"No..nope" Homelander repeated, he pointed at you again, "Be a good girl and put it in the garbage" He snapped. You looked around, with everyone staring at you, "Okay" you responded, slowly getting up from your chair, taking the cup in your hand, and throwing it in the garbage before sitting down.
"Good"
With that statement, the meeting continued on, with your face heating up in embarrassment, as you sank further into the chair.
Sage's voice engulfing your thoughts,
You got interrupted by a note being thrown at you, it was obvious it was from Noir that somehow got to you without Homelander looking, you grinned a little bit, secretly opening up the crumbled piece of paper.
[I'll buy you a new drink after the meeting] - Noir
You read the note, before turning your attention to him and smiling, quickly putting the note in the pocket of your suit before Homelander can see it. Combing your hair back and leaning back into your chair.
Soon the meeting ended, getting up from your seat, and everyone else was doing the same, yours scanned and the room soon landing on Firecracker still in her seat. But you didn't care much to ask why, but more excited to hang out with Noir after this awkward meeting.
"Everyone can go expect H/N" You heard Homelander's voice mentioning your name made you freeze. You stopped where you were, "You can go Firecracker" Homelander turned to her,
"But..um Homelander sir—"
"You can go," Homelander said again but in a more threatening tone, "Now" After he said she scrambled out of the meeting room.
Soon it was only you two left in the room, you watched hesitantly as Homelander turned to you. "Y/N, we need to talk," Homelander states, you could hear his voice straining, with concealed anger.
You looked up at him confused, "About..what?" You asked.
You watched as he walked around you, his pace was slow, you listened to his footsteps echoing around the empty meeting room, before he stopped suddenly, " Do you think I'm just stupid?" Homelander said, his tone catching you off guard.
It wasn't confusing that Homelander was speaking to you in anger, you rarely got him angry knowing you both were together and your relationship wasn't publicized due to his status.
"No, definitely not John," You replied, using his name instead of his hero alias, made him freeze before he stared at you.
Jealously was gnawing inside of him when he looked at you, "Tell me...are you fucking him" Homelander snapped at you, your brows knitted together in confusion at his words. "No, we're just hanging out—why would you ever think that?" You stuttered over your words, as Homelander walked closer to you.
He reached out for your face, harshly grabbing your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his eyes. You felt his glove hand digging into your face, his eyes closely turning red, you just felt fear, you were terrified. You knew he could smell your fear, and hear your rising heartbeat. "John...I would never cheat on you, I'm yours" You entreated, trembling under his grip.
Finally, his grip got looser and then he dropped your face, making you stumble a bit.
"Then show me," Homelander said,
You were confused about his words, "What?"
"If you love me..show me" Homelander sat down in the seat in front of you. It took you some time to process his words, confused at what he was saying, "Come on, strip for me" signaling towards your chest.
Your brows furrowing, "Come on, if you don't do it" Homelander leaned in his seat, "You won't like it if I do it" He finished,
"Now strip" He repeated, his tone more irritated.
You took a breath in and started undressing. Unzipping your suit, feeling the cool air on your bare skin. Your suit falling on the marble floor echoed through the room, leaving you in your bra and panties.
"Bra and panties too" Homelander eyed your chest.
You comply, putting your hand behind you and clipping your bra off, discarding it on the floor, and stepping out of your panties, leaving you fully naked in front of him.
"Come here" He patted his lap, "Crawl" he pointed at you. You sank down to your knees and crawled towards him and stopped in front of him. "Come on, you know what to do" You felt his hand on your cheek, stroking it.
You looked down at his growing member in his pants. Hesitatingly looking up at him through your lashes, as you started to undo the bottom of his suit revealing his cock, you looked up at him, "Use your mouth" You leaned in and inched his cock into your mouth, before taking him whole. Homelander moans out feeling your warm mouth enveloping his cock, feeling his hand gripping your hair making you wince.
You slowly bob your head down on his length, his grip on you getting tighter. Your ears perched up at his straining voice barely containing his whimpers as he watched you intently, taking him whole. "Fuck, your good at this" Homelander groaned, jerking you away, taking his cock out from your mouth. Staring at your disheveling appearance, spit dribbling on your chin.
His hand still fisting your hair, "Your pretty when your like this" Homelander chuckled, before forcing you down his cock, making you gagged. Tears prick on your waterline, saliva staining your chin, his grip never loosening as he abused your throat,  thrusting into your mouth, the sound of slick, the sounds of wet suction filling up the room.
His pace turning frantic, fucking your mouth.
Homelander threw his head back as waves of ecstasy washed over him. His hips buckled uncontrollably as he lets out a guttural groan, filling your mouth with his cum. "Fuck, ..." He pants, chest heaving, before he gripped your face, "Be a good girl and swallow it" He threatens, feeling the hot liquid going down your throat, swallowing it.
His grip loosening and releasing you. You panted for air, feeling his gloved-hand stroking your cheek. "Now, stand and lean over at table" Homelander ordered, as you got up from the floor and obeyed his order, propping yourself on the table, and bending yourself over the glass. You couldn't help but to feel excited for the pain, the slick dripping down your legs. You waited in anticipation,
Before feeling his cock stretching you out, biting down at your lip at the simmering pain, arching your back. His hands on back of your waist, "Fuck" you mumbled, gripping the end of the glass. Before he thrusting into you, "You think Noir would please you like I do" Homelander growled into your ear, his breath warm on your skin "N...no" you mumbled, feeling his cock tearing you open, feeling himself stretching your cervix.
His ministration was more painful next than the next, feeling his cock stabbing you over and over again. The sounds of flesh slapping filled the room, letting out a gasp, your voice wavering in pain. His thrust driving deeper into you, clenching down on his cock, feeling his grip digging into your skin.
You hated how you were slowly enjoying this, feeling yourself coming close to your climax. Your body tensing up as you feel your skin warming up,
His hips stuttering against yours, "Fuck, I'm close" You felt his hands stroking your hips, "What if I just cummed inside you, breed you myself, have my kids, and have a family...then ill have you to myself" He whispered,
You felt your heart in your throat, "Pull out" You tried to get away from stone grip, "Homelander, please" You begged, only for your face to be shove down on the glass table. Scrambling underneath his grip, just to get him off you. "please" you cried.
His pace getting frantic until he thrust into you for the last time, feeling on cue your body shuddering as he came into you. Feeling himself spilling inside you, making you freeze on the spot.
Feeling him finally pulling out of you, leaving you there stunned. He kissed your shoulder, the kiss feeling lingering on you.
You heard the sound of him putting his pants back on. He stared at you before walking towards you, before sighing, you turned your head to him, "I forgive you, you know" He said, his hand behind his back watching your pitiful form,
"Just don't do it again" he pats your head,
"Now get dressed, we have a date" He smiles, listening to his footsteps descending from you.
Tumblr media
880 notes · View notes
jo-com · 6 months ago
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mine
Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: He's yours, and you're his. That's how it should be.
Tw: DARK, implied smut, obsession, manipulation, possessive behavior, branding, angst, jealous charles, some grammatical error, not proofread, google translated french cause i can't speak french and sorry if i wrote it wrong i just started writing again so idk if this is good or not.
words: 1.1k
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist (Part 2)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───
From the start, Charles was nothing more than amazing—he would give you endless adoration and assurance, and overall was the perfect boyfriend. He would worship you like you were some kind of goddess—well,  in his eyes, you were. 
But Over time, his once pure love became a crazy obsession.
The need to always be by your side and not let any other guys come closer to you, talk to you, or even breathe the same air as you intoxicated his mind and clouded his judgment.
And you start to see changes that would never occur in the past—changes that weren't good. Like that time when you and Carlos were just casually talking and catching up—that sight alone was enough to make his once-puppy dog eyes become piercing ones. Burning a hole in both the backs of your heads, from across the room you could see how tensed he was, his jaws clenched and his hands gripped the seat making the texture of the seat all crinkly.
At that time you only shook it off as a "concerned gesture" and never said anything about it to him.
But then it was constantly happening; he would always get riled up whenever someone would just approach you, whether it was a girl, boy, kid, or even animals; he was getting jealous over almost everything. 
You started to worry that things would get even more complicated as they continued. So you stood your ground and got up the courage to voice your concern to him. 
...
"Charlie?" you said softly, entering the room, where he was reading. Your eyes scanned around the room then stopped when you spotted his figure.
There he was, sitting by the fireside with a book in his right hand and the other resting on the armrest. He looked like one of those guys that were sculptured to perfection, but you knew that, underneath that godlike demeanor was one possessive beast that was hard to tame.
Hearing your voice, Charles looked up from your direction and immediately lit up. "Oui? Mon chéri," he responded with his thick French accent. 
You smiled half-heartedly and slowly walked to where he sat. From your action, he could tell that something was bothering you. 
His face scrunched up with a frown as he stared intently at you as you sat down on one of the armrests. 
"Is there something bothering you, Mon cœur?" he asked, lowering down the book he was reading and then slowly snaked up his free hand to rest on your waist.
You let out a deep sigh before answering, "You'll tell me when something's up right?"
He didn’t answer but just tilted his head and stared at you blankly. At that moment there were many questions running through his mind, but one particular thought stood out: Why would you ask something out of the blue when everything has been perfect? not unless someone put thoughts into that pretty little naive head of yours. 
He let out a low chuckle—the grip on your waist tightened as he sucked out a breath—your eyes met his. Seeing the lack of emotion as he stared back at you, sent shivers down your spine, and what scared you even more was when he gave you a calm but menacing smile.
"What makes you think that there's a problem sweetheart?"
You bit your lower lip, holding back the urge to just blurt out your thoughts.
That small gesture was not left unnoticed by Charles. He raised his other hand and touched your lower lip, softly grazing his thumb to where you sunk your teeth. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Mon cœur? he assured.
His expression didn't change; the loving eyes that you once knew were now an emotionless void. With that look, you knew he was getting impatient the longer you stayed silent.
Breaking the silence, you slowly nodded your head and smiled lightly. "Yeah, I know baby, it’s just that you’ve been off lately and you get so riled up easily, mon amour—I know that you mean no harm, but it’s just too much and i-"
“Do you think I like being that way? ”Charles cuts you off.
He gazed at you—eyes filled with rage from what you just said. You squeaked at his burning glare and were quick to look away. The hand that used to rest in your waist was now at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with frustration. 
"You know i wouldn't be that way if not for you, y/n. I am just keeping you safe from all those disgusting men at the paddock, tu ne sais pas de quoi ils sont capables y/n (you don't know what they are capable of)."
You kept your head down and stayed quiet, not wanting to say anything further that might ignite more of his anger. 
Charles stared at your weak state and sighed heavily. 
He stood up, standing in front of you. His hands are cupping both your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him. Charles rubbed your rosy cheeks soothingly, making you lean in on his touch.
"Everything I do is for you, mon chéri, okay?"
You looked at him through your eyelashes and smiled. Charles just wants you to be safe and there's nothing wrong with it, maybe your just overthinking it?.
Charles smiled and kissed your temple; hugging you close to him as if you'd leave once he let's go.
Only a fool would believe that Charles's "just wants you to be safe".
Y/n was a fool
...
Your body jolted at the sensation, your hand moving to your mouth as you bit down the urge to moan out loud.
The two of you were inside a closet room in the pit. Charles decided to pull this stunt the moment he laid eyes on you and Max talking. Like usual, he got riled up and dragged you somewhere secluded to "teach you a lesson".
Tears swell up your eyes, making your vision go blurry. Your other hand was pushing his head away and attempting to stop him from diving into your cunt and eating it like there was no tomorrow. 
"Stop," Charles hissed, grabbing both your wrist and pinning it above your head—restricting your movements.
"What did i tell you about talking to others?"
You gulped down the lump in your throat and shook your head. "I am sorry, mon amour" your eyes pleading for him to stop.
Charles scoffed, gripping your jaw tightly. "espèce de salope (you slut), you just want everyone's attention, don't you?"
"Charlie, no, it's not like that," you begged, your voice shaking as his grip on your jaw tightened.
"Oh, I'll give you attention alright, Chienne (bitch)," he cussed, his accent making his aura more frightening.
...
You lay emotionless on the table, tears falling down your face—your clothes on the ground, your hair a mess, and your body filled with his markings.
In the corner of the room, Charles was fixing his clothes. Acting as if nothing had happened. 
He then went over to you and pulled your body towards him, crassing your hair and kissing your temple. "Je t'aime tellement mon amour."
...
Should i make a part 2?? Btw hope you like this idk if i did it okay i just wanted to write again and like always my request are open!!
943 notes · View notes
ellabscrush · 9 months ago
Text
— when i suck it, i look in your eyes
strap sucking w/college!ellie williams x fem reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
🇵🇸 boycott & ways you can help 🇵🇸
» cw; mdni, fem!reader, afab!reader dom!ellie, stubborn!reader, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking, breast play, no use of y/n
» sypnosis; your girlfriend has been studying for hours and you’re getting needy. knowing her weakness, she finally gives in and oh how she needed a distraction from her studies.
» a/n; hii, this is my first drabble, i’m nervous lol ᰔ hope you enjoy!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
“els i’m boredd,” you dragged your feet as you walk over to the couch where your girlfriend is typing on her keyboard like crazy.
ellie jumps, “uh… not done yet babe,” her eyes never leaving the screen.
you rolled your eyes.
you don’t know what’s gotten into you. you tried respecting her space because often times you would let your girlfriend come over to do her homework and enjoyed each other’s presence. it was chill. she would give you some sort of affection from time to time.
however, ellie has been sitting in the same spot for hours. no lunch break, bathroom break, or checking on her girlfriend break.. it was frustrating on your behalf. still watching her in silence as her eyes stare at the bright screen, you try again.
“so you’re just gonna write all day and not give me a kiss?” you teased, no answer from the brunette.
“ellie williams i’m talking to yo-“
“just give me five minutes fuck!” ellie snaps, cutting you off.
not only you hate it when ellie ignored you, but you absolutely despised yelling. even when you both know she doesn’t mean to. you weren’t mad cause that’s when you realized she was tensed and finally needed a break. you know exactly what she needs.
ellie closes her eyes, “s-sorry for yelling i didn’t mean to-“ she stammered.
you’ve had enough. you grabbed her laptop off her lap and adjusted yourself on hers. knowing her weakness, you lift up your shirt to expose your bare tits infront of her face. her expression had changed from confused to serious quickly.
“this is how i get your attention huh?” you smirked.
suddenly, ellie grabs your neck and both of your lips clashes to eachother, resulting in a sloppy make out while her other hand is firmly gripping onto your waist.
the kiss was fast, deep, and desperate. oh how much you missed her. she missed you even more.
“you know me so fucking well” she whispers in between, “and so fucking needy.”
you whimpered at her words, “very.”
your voice is like heaven in her ears. the kisses slowly went to your neck, and down to your breasts. ellie’s slender hands pushed your tits up, making you gasp because of how hard her grip was.
“f-fuck be gentle please..” you shut your eyes as she bites the living skin off your tits.
“shut the fuck up.” ellie hisses, slapping your tits.
the unexpected gesture made you turned on. your hips start to rock over her jeans, trying to find some friction. your girlfriend is just in cloud nine right now watching you crave for her attention.
your hips move faster, “baby.. need you so bad..” you cried.
ellie’s face lights up, she didn’t say a word but gently lifted you off her lap and disappeared in the bedroom to get a little surprise. she soon came back with your favorite dildo infront of your face, turned on just seeing this sight of ellie.
“on your knees,” ellie ordered, “since you’ve been pestering me all day i need you to be a good girl for me..”
she says as her thumb circles around your mouth, wanting to be let in your wet mouth. so you obeyed.
“mm, fuck” she chuckles, “you really wanted this huh?”
you nod with those fuck eyes of yours. you didn’t even realize it but your shirt was still lifted up, exposing your bare chest. ellie’s free hand starts massaging them as they are her little stress balls.
“want my cock in your mouth?” ellie whispers, “mmm y-yes,” you mumbled.
so desperate that you start stroking her strap, ellie was soaked in her boxers at this point.
ellie then took her thumb out and guided her strap into your mouth. grunting like she swore she could felt it. it was a sight. a sight where ellie pulled out her phone and started recording you sucking her cock in and out, whispering praises.
“good slut..”
“that’s my girl, go deeper for me..”
“want this cock in your tight cunt later..”
the room was filled with filthy lewd sounds like a porno , honestly it could be if ellie posted that video. but she would never. it was only hers to see.
your mouth was getting sore but ellie kept pushing you in more, making you choked a little bit. not only she loved hearing the sounds of your wet slick, she loved to hear you cry and gag on her strap.
muffled words coming out of mouth, ellie didn’t care what you were saying. you were just so pretty in her eyes, on your knees for her as you should be.
“mhmph, keep going.. faster” she whimpered, your mouth was gliding so easily on the silicone.
you took out the strap out of your mouth to show your girlfriend how much of a drooping mess your mouth made.
“i love you els.. i’m all yours,” you say as you were waiting for that affection you’ve been needing all day from her as well.
“love you so much pretty girl..” she whispers.
she was so glad you gave her that much needed break.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
kimpossibly · 3 months ago
Text
little spencer reid drabble to get me out of a multi-month writing slump!!
warnings/tags: spencer reid x reader, established/secret relationship, swearing, r uses she/her pronouns
summary: after a situation out in the field leaves y/n temporarily blind, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a secret.
Tumblr media
"Here she is!"
Y/N could practically feel the hush that fell over the room as JJ wheeled her into the office. The thick bandage covering both eyes ensured that she couldn't very well see it. She did her best to give her most realistic Y/N smile to put them at ease. "Are you guys happy to see me or what? You're gonna have to tell me, cause if you didn't notice, I can't really see..."
She heard a few relieved laughs (thank god) and a mutter of "smartass" from Morgan. Suddenly she felt the comforting presence of Penelope beside her as she took one of her hands. "Can I hug you? I just wanna hug you."
Y/N laughed. "You can hug me, Garcia."
With only a little effort, Y/N stood from her wheelchair. Almost instantly she was engulfed by a classic Garcia hug—it was a little less frantic and intense than usual, but that, she assumed, was attributed to her current state of blindness.
Garcia pulled away and there was a moment of tense silence before her Disney princess-like voice asked, "Are you...is it permanent?"
"No," Y/N said with a shake of her head. "The surgery went really well and this is just the standard recovery process. I have weekly check-ups, but other than that, these bandages need to stay for at least a month."
"A month?" Derek repeated from somewhere on her left. "We're not gonna have you in the field for a month?"
"Oh relax, Derek. I'm sure you'll find somebody else to beat in arm wrestling for a bit."
There was a bit of uneasy laughter at that, but the reality was a bit too disheartening for anyone to really be genuine about it. Y/N hadn't taken more than a week off in her time with the BAU, and that was only due to an emergency. She'd be gone for longer than she'd ever been—and without her sight, no less.
"But who's going to take care of you?" Garcia said, sounding a bit like a worried grandmother. "You can't be alone at home all...blind! Do you have someone who can stay with you?"
Before Y/N can answer, Spencer's voice came from somewhere on her right. "I am."
There was another hush, and this time Y/N was almost glad that she couldn't see everyone's faces. She could hear her heart hammering in her chest. JJ was the first to speak following the announcement of this information. "Spence?"
"What? Her grandma can't make it into town and I've done extensive reading on the recovery process for this—"
"But you're just going to go back and forth between your apartment and hers for a month? Isn't that, like, an hour long drive?"
Spence didn't have a quick answer for that, so Y/N finally forced out the truth. "We live together."
Once again, silence. Emily spoke first. "What? Since when?"
"Three months and fourteen days ago," Spencer said. "But we've been together for seven months and eight days."
Now all Y/N could do was plaster on an innocent smile as she stared (hopefully) into space. "Surpriiiiiiiiise."
Then came the uproar. Penelope and JJ shouted questions at the same time, Rossi seemingly swore in Italian, Morgan muttered some kind of threat towards the both of them. Y/N found her head darting left and right as she tried to find some particular sound to focus on. A comforting hand rested on her shoulders and she recognized it instantly as Spencer. She put her hand atop his and waited out the colossal wave of shock and awe from the rest of the team.
"Hey, hey!" Y/N shouted to get their attention. They quieted down and she pursed her lips. "Look, I know you've all been suspecting it anyway—we're just confirming your suspicions! Not that we have much of a choice..."
"Seven months? You kept this from us for seven months!" Garcia exclaimed—not mad, just surprised. Maybe a bit exasperated.
Spencer let out a little laugh. "Hotch knew!"
Y/N practically felt it as all heads turned to Hotch, who just shrugged. "They wanted to keep it a secret."
And then, of course, the screaming was directed at Hotch, who willingly took the brunt of it and began to guide the outraged hoard of co-workers in a different direction. Y/N heard their voices diminish as they followed him towards the other side of the office. She blew out a large breath, laughing in relief. She let her head fall to her hands, running her fingers through her hair. “Should’ve expected that kind of reaction.”
“Why are they so surprised?” Spencer said. She could practically picture the confused knot between his brows. “Garcia and Morgan already had a bet that we were dating.”
“I think it was the whole ‘we’ve been living together for three months’ thing that really got them.”
“Hm. Possibly.”
Y/N looked over her shoulder, tilting her head back in the general direction of where Spencer stood. “Make me a coffee? I would do it myself, but, you know, I can’t see.”
She heard him laugh quietly and felt a little flutter in her stomach. She always felt that way when she made him laugh.
“How long are you going to use that excuse?” he said, already pushing her chair in the direction of the coffee station.
“As long as it applies,” she replied. “Or until I become Matt Murdock and have superhuman coffee-making abilities.”
“Matt Murdock has radar senses.”
“Still probably allows him to make his own coffee.”
They came to a stop and she heard Spencer shuffling around to make coffee.
“Hey,” she said, blindly stretching a hand out.
Within a second, Spencer’s hand found hers. “What do you need?”
She removed her hand away from his, searching all the way up his arm until she found his tie, pulling him in closer. Within an instant her lips caught his in a slightly off-kilter manner—she kissed the corner of his mouth, really. He adjusted quickly despite his surprise at the sudden action. His instincts told him to pull away, to reduce any risk that anyone saw, but there was nothing to hide anymore. So he kissed her back for a brief moment before breaking apart, a small smile on his face.
“What was that for?” he asked, their faces still inches apart.
Y/N just shrugged, a smile on her lips. “I just realized I could do that. So I did.”
He nodded. “Got it.”
She released his tie and let him get back to making coffee, not needing her sight to see the smile on his face.
706 notes · View notes
changisworld · 4 months ago
Text
Cum Swapping with Hyunjin
Word count:2,116
18+, MDNI!! smut below the cut
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
Fourth part of my 8 part masterlist of the extension of this & this headcanon of the members!!;3
Kinks & pleasures masterlist here Main masterlist here
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
-> SMUT WARNINGS: Cum eating (both), cumshot, spit, Piv, Jinnie is a loverboy cuz duh, soft sex, marking (Hyun rec), mutual masterbation, praise, squirting, a few pussy slaps, choking (Hyun rec), edging, literally 100% smut
You were never surprised when you came to the realisation Hyunjin loves messy sex. Spit, cum everywhere, squirting, period sex, facials, you name it, he is obsessed with it.
You had tasted each others cum before, obviously, but it wasn't until today that you both got to switch your orgasms with one another, & you mentally slap yourself over it because god, has it became both of your new latest kink.
You're both sitting opposite one another, your feet planted on the bed as you lean against the headboard, Hyunjins legs inside of yours, forcing you to keep your own open as they tend to shake when you're close to an orgasm, Hyunjin leaning against the stack of pillows he has nabbed from the bed to keep himself up.
You're both comletely naked, looking into each others eyes, Hyunjin teasing the red, leaky tip of his cock, swirling the pre cum that is dribbling out, into the skin as your eyes dart down to the sight every once in a while as your fingers are teasing your folds with light touches, pulling your folds in a 'V' shape, exposing your already beyond needy clit for him, which his eyes struggle to move away from.
"Look at your clit hunny, it looks so sore, you gonna touch it f'me?" he questions, already knowing the answer & just to his assumption, you follow his words as if he is a siren & your index finger slides over your wetness & your stomach makes you lurch forwards as your feet dismount off the bed for a split second, the sensitivity almost making your brain short circuit as you rub small circles, matching the same pace as Hyunjins on his cock.
"Jinnie, want you to touch me instead" you whine, growing more impatient as the seconds go by, your mouth threatening to spill all the building up drool simply from watching the hottest man to ever walk the earth, jerking off in front of you, nibbling his bottom lip, it a darker shade of pink by this point.
"You know what we agreed to, cum for me first n then I'll think about it, mkay?" he retorts, a pretty smirk wiped across his face as he watches your eyebrows furrow, his abs tensing up ever so often at the feeling of his own hand, slowing down every time the pleasure starts to get too good.
You grumble at his response, getting slightly agitated as you grow even more needy, you pick up your pace slightly as your fingers sometimes slip from your clit due to how wet you’ve gotten so quickly.
“look how wet you are, slide a finger inside for me jagi” he asks as he spits into his hand before bringing it back down to his aching cock & picks up his pace slightly, his balls twitching as he does so & he has to make a conscious effort to not throw his head back, because why would he when he can watch you?
You do as he says without any hesitation & you slide your middle finger inside & you shudder at the feeling & you bite down on your bottom lip & you start to finger yourself at a decent pace, not enough to make you cum but a good build up.
“You’re so hot Jinnie, cock is so big, i want it” you purr, trying to keep your voice steady as you decide to add a second finger & you & hyunjin let out a small moan in unison, you because of the tiniest stretch & hyunjin because he is addicted to the way he sees your pussy swallow your fingers, he would prefer if it was his but he loves this sight too.
"Want you too hunny, wanna cum for you, want you to see how pretty you look for me, look how wet you are" he groans as he reaches out to caress your thigh as he tightens his grip on his cock, precum coating his hand & he works it into his cock like lube, his heart racing & he can't stop himself from blushing, honestly flustured by what's going on & you're no better.
"Wanna make you cum Jinnie, cum with me please" you plead as your fingers graze against your soft spot, not nearly as well or as quickly as Hyunjin can do but it's something.
You are visibly clenching around your own fingers as your thumb is nudging against your clit & your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, your legs hitting against Hyunjins & if it wasn't for his legs being on the inside of yours, they would have shut by now.
"Gonna cum" you rush out as your toes curl & your body burns under his & your own touch & you clench so hard so you are forced to pull your fingers & you slap your cunt lightly a few times & you orgasm from the feeling as your cum squirts out of you, coating your hand, the bed, your thighs & also Hyunjins thighs, a few drops even landing on his balls & he has to rush to pull his hand off his cock, edging himself, because he knows what he wants to try & he needs to last.
You rest on your elbows as you catch your breath, your hair sticking to your skin, a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly dismiss it as you lean forward just enough to grab his hands & you lean backwards while holding them, pulling him on top of you.
"You didn't cum with me Jinnie!" you whine & Hyunjin doesn't respond straight away & instead takes the hand that is completely coated in your juices & slurps it off your fingers, looking into your eyes as he does so & you both share a small hum.
"You taste so good, I wanna try something a bit different, you wanna try?" he asks, his hand playing with your hair as he reaches with the other to cup your tit, kneading it in his fingers, making you arch into his touch.
"What is it you have in your mind, hmm?" you question, because you have no idea he could even have in mind because you genuinely think you've tried everything by this point.
"It's a surprise, trust me" he giggles to you as he flips you both over so you're straddling him, his hard cock poking into your soaking cunt & you instinctively grind against it.
His hands come down to cup your ass as you lean down to lock lips with him, your tongues tasting each others as his plump lips hug yours & you reach back & grab onto his hard on & position it to your slightly stretched hole but as you slide down onto him, you can't completely ignore the tiny painful but huge pleasurable feeling & you & Hyunjin groan into each others mouths.
"You're so tight no matter what, I swear, you're so perfect." he whimpers into your mouth & you bite down on his bottom lip playfully & you clench around him, making him release another deep groan, his hands gripping onto your ass even tighter as he helps you start riding him at a good, quick pace from the start.
Hyunjin readjusts you both slightly, just enough so he can suck on your tits, swirling his tongue & his teeth nibbling down on the hard bud & you let out a small shriek, his cock hitting into your G-spot, way more than your own fingers were no longer than ten minutes ago & you pick up the pace as much as you can without forcing Hyunjin to let go of your tits.
"Hyune, you look so- feel so good, shit." you splutter, the sounds of your sweaty skin connecting clapping throughout the room along with your moans & whimpers.
Much to your own dissatisfaction, you pull away from his mouth & you lean down until your connected, chest to chest & you nuzzle into his neck & you nibble on the sensitive part of his neck, making him hiss as he holds onto your hips as he helps you keep fucking onto him since he knows you so well & he can tell that despite you not verbally saying it, your thighs are starting to burn.
You suck a dark spot onto his pretty, smooth skin as his tip kisses your cervix & bullies your G-spot & your eyes furrow shut as you try ignore the burning of your legs to keep riding him, the pleasure far too good to ever stop.
You slither your hand up to rest against his neck & you squeeze it slightly & his breath instantly hitches, a whimper leaving his throat as he melts into your touch.
"You're so g-good y/n, g'na cum" he blabbers before he is flipping you both over so you're on your back & he pulls his cock out, trying to prolong his orgasm until you cum one more time.
Hyunjin lets a glob of spit land on your pussy & you wince at the coldness as your hips buck, your clit & folds swollen from stimulation.
"Hyune, put it in!" you beg as you try sit up to latch onto him but he is quick to push you back fully onto the bed & he leans over you as he pushes himself back to the hilt, getting that tiniest bit deeper in the new position & the words lodge in your throat, a croaky whine being the only thing that leaves instead.
"Open up f'me" he purrs & you open your mouth & go the extra little bit & stick out your tongue, already knowing what he is gonna do & you purr back at him as he spits into your mouth & you swallow it proudly.
"You're so good for me, you know that? My perfect y/n." he mutters as he is fucking into you like a bunny & you have your hands wrapped around his back, your nails accidentally digging into his back, scratching him, not that he minds though, a moan leaving his mouth as he leans into your touch.
"Wann- gonna cum Hyune, so deep." you cry as you move a hand to feel over his toned stomach & he reaches down to play with your already pulsating clit & when he does this mixed with the way his perfect dancer hips are moving, your second orgasm gushes out of you, landing all over you both & you clench so hard, his cock is forced out of you but just from the sight, he cums with you this time, ropes of his orgasm landing all over your lower stomach, his legs threatening to give way as he groans at the feeling, his head refusing to throw itself back, instead, watching the way his cum lands & sits on your skin.
"come n cuddle me Hyune, so sleepy, so good." you blab but he hums a 'nuh uh' & you open your eyes to look up at him, his hair dripping with sweat & his red face as he moves back enough before leaning down & licking a strip from your cunt before slowly working his way up & licking his own cum off your stomach, not daring to leave a single bit, before worming his way up your frame & grabbing onto your cheeks, guiding you to his face before spitting it into your mouth.
"Hold it there, mkay?" he says in a soft tone before he takes his fingers & drags them through your folds, gathering more of your own cum before suckling it off his fingers.
He holds the taste in his mouth & he then leans in & kisses you & you whimper in surprise as you exchange juices, but you'd be lying if you didn't say you weren't more horny than you ever have before.
You both break away from the kiss after you both lose all your breath & you swallow it. "That is what I wanted to try, that was the hottest thing i think we have ever done." he chuckles to you as he lifts you up to help you to the bathroom.
"Couldn't agree more, dirty Jinnie. Bath n sleep?" you ask, already knowing his incoming response, it is basically your daily routine together now & he just nods, gigging as he sets you down to turn on the tap.
->Taglist is open!
->Anon list is open!
570 notes · View notes
miumura · 4 months ago
Text
━━━ NERD JAKE . . .
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
| nerd!jake headcanons >< |
pairing nerd!jake x gn!reader genre fluff
warnings none? word count 0.8k+ ( 844 words )
💬 — NERD JAKE BRAINROT the voices have spoken to me and told me to write this. guys you don’t understand how much i live for nerd!jake works … like i don’t know but they are just probably a guilty pleasure of mines 🤓 so you knowww i also had to do something about it !! enjoy <3
Tumblr media
NERD JAKE who apologized a million times after bumping into you in the hallway, hurried to pick up your books instead of his scattered papers.
NERD JAKE who became rather flustered when you crouched down to help him, picking up his papers with an apology and a small "thank you” when he gave back the textbooks you dropped.
NERD JAKE who often takes a few glances at your work, purposefully lets you see his so you can correct your answers or ask him for help with anything specific.
NERD JAKE who easily tenses up when your arms touch, breathing sharply as you peek over his shoulder to compare his work with yours, his face turning a shade of pink as he tries to maintain his focus.
NERD JAKE who wears the biggest grin on his face while talking about topics he finds interesting, often uses hand movements to emphasize his words.
NERD JAKE who immediately turns off his phone after sending you a text message, gets overwhelmed with thoughts of whether he came off weirdly or said the wrong things, already considering unsending it.
NERD JAKE who always answers your text messages within the same minute, smiles to himself as you both talk about random things, often leading to late-night conversations.
NERD JAKE who offers to tutor you in the classes you're struggling with, is motivated mainly by the chance to spend more time with you — but also being able to help you too, of course.
NERD JAKE who loves your compliments and praises, is motivated to work even harder to impress you with his knowledge.
NERD JAKE who talks about how smart you are whenever he sees you frustrated with a problem, but often ends up rambling about how great he thinks you are, sometimes leading to his own embarrassment.
NERD JAKE who lets you sleep on his shoulder while he finishes the rest of your assignments.
NERD JAKE who always looks at you when the teacher explains there’s pair work, hoping you’d want to be his partner too.
NERD JAKE who listens to you attentively, making sure to remember to jot down your likes and dislikes later.
NERD JAKE who has a soft spot for you, unable to refuse anything you ask of him, even if it might get him into trouble.
NERD JAKE who keeps all the little notes you two passed around in class in a special box, often revisiting and rereading them whenever he misses you.
NERD JAKE who tries to focus on his studies, but his mind keeps drifting back to you, causing him to eventually plant his head on his desk, scattered with papers.
NERD JAKE who masks the things he does for you as friendly gestures to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the thought of potentially liking you, convincing himself it’s just being a good friend while his heart says otherwise.
NERD JAKE who can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you hang out with someone else, knows he can’t do anything about it and is left pouting.
NERD JAKE who comes up with random excuses whenever you ask to meet up, knows how much he wants to but can't let his feelings grow, especially after seeing you with another guy.
NERD JAKE who focuses on just admiring you from afar, doesn't want to take up too much of your time from your friends at school.
NERD JAKE who leaves an empty classroom with his face a red mess after you confront him about being distant and confess your feelings for him, his heart racing as he tries to process everything.
NERD JAKE who goes home and lies in bed thinking about the incident, replays the moment over and over in his mind before covering his head with his pillow and screaming into it in frustration and embarrassment.
NERD JAKE who stutters while trying to ask you out on a date, nervously fiddling his fingers as he waits for your answer.
NERD JAKE who spends so much time going through his closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the date, heavily debates whether he should wear one of his flannels.
NERD JAKE who gives himself pep talks, practicing to avoid fumbling his words and preparing enough conversation topics to ensure the date won't be awkward.
NERD JAKE who arrives at your house with a bouquet of flowers, complimenting your appearance with a gaze filled with admiration and nervous excitement.
NERD JAKE who spontaneously makes up jokes just to hear your laughter, cherishing the moments when he can bring a smile to your face.
NERD JAKE who completely loses his composure after you kiss him on the cheek, visibly flustered as he touches his face, wondering if he's actually dreaming.
NERD JAKE who walks you home, staying until he sees you safely enter your house before he heads off, a smile lingering on his face.
NERD JAKE who gathers all his courage to ask if he could be your boyfriend, his heart pounding with anticipation as he waits for your response, having poured his feelings into a website created just for this moment.
NERD JAKE who has been captivated by you since the moment you bumped into him, his thoughts fixated on you from the start.
Tumblr media
💭 — should i make more works like these because these are lowkey fun to write 👀
enhypen perm taglist is open ; comment or send an ask !
ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz
699 notes · View notes
wroteclassicaly · 5 months ago
Text
Summary: A confession leads to unexpected heartbreak.
18+
Warnings: Language, smut, hurt/no comfort, one sided feelings, heartbreak, angst GALORE, self-esteem issues, mentions Steve’s past head trauma, insecurities on both sides, jealous Steve, mentions Nancy, best-friend!Reader w/ best-friend!Steve, and friends to lovers. This one hurts, folks!
Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Word count: 3,985
A/N: No banner for this! Just some raw writing I did early into the hours of this morning/night, adding on some today. I wanted to try something different, so enjoy!
Note: Also posting this the day after I wrote it. Okay, lmaooooo.
Tumblr media
“I love you, Steve.”
The words come easy to you, the courage taking years to build. But once they leave your mouth as you’re cradling his neck’s nape, playing with the chocolate curls that have grown out there, you cannot figure out why you wasted time not saying it. It’s been an ongoing thing between you two — a two year thing, in fact. Never any pushing for labels, no exclusivity. You were patient, he was giving, and you assumed you were both reading on the same page.
In a few minutes, however, you’d find out how very wrong that you were. You wished that your mouth and your legs had stayed closed around your best-friend, Steve Harrington.
It was a typical weekday, no dates planned, acting as if his last date hadn’t upset you, or that you enjoyed the one you forced yourself to go on with some guy, so that your feelings weren’t completely obvious. Sidenote: to mostly everyone but Steve, they kinda were. Steve had called you after your shift at the local Burger King, asking if you wanted to come over and spend the night. Not unusual. You always trade spending nights, rolling around on various surfaces, before enjoying breakfast together.
Intimate, casual, perfect.
Your answer was an automatic yes. A quick shower after work for you, a return phone call, and he’d gotten in his BMW, picked up some takeout, went to your door to get you, held your hand to the car, opened your damned door, and the dessert had been him between your thighs. This night in particular, it was one of pent up frustrations and desperations that had just one satiable cure. You ended up on top of Steve, his back pressed into the headboard, mutual clothes scattered all over his bed.
His shoulders became leverage, his massive palms spread out on either side of your waist, pinching the plush skin into his palming grip. Nose dusting across a defined nose bridge, caught in a cheekbone, with kisses rushed, deep, sloppily trying to stay focussed, but driven to reach that place buried inside one another.
Steve’s thighs provide a platform for you to sit upon, ankles locked around his back. He’s slippery with sweat, places you’d like to lick clean. You pull back from your cove to say it again, unable to stop yourself, going in for a kiss. You don’t think he heard, he’s humble sometimes, disbelieving in others. One hand cups his jaw, the other staying put to card through his hair, moisture pooling between your fingers.
“Hey? You still with me, big guy? I said I love you.” You’re smiling softly, thumbpad caressing his jawline. You feel it twitch, his shoulders tense.
Is he gonna cum? You know the signs. “Steve?” Something in your guts feels a little off. You ignore it.
“I know what you said. I heard you say it the first time.” He interrupts, tries to remain impassive, his hips slowing from your combined movements.
Like salt in the wound, a fresh slap to the face. No way.
“You heard me say that I love you?” You have to try one more time. He’s been hit in the head a lot, maybe he didn’t get it? He couldn’t have, right? Are you really this stupid, this dense?
You attempt to kiss him, to lay it all down through your actions, rather than your words this time, but your mouth doesn’t get the chance to meet him.
His lids flutter closed, he sighs, his face leaving yours, hands lifting off your body to wrap around your wrists, slowly untangling them from his neck. “Stop, alright?”
You feel your heart rate accelerate, your body tensing, your throat is choked with a teary panic, a bulldozer driving across your organs, settling atop you with its weight. Every single wall you still have built, they slowly shake off their cobwebs to rise from the dust, smothering you in the smoke. And he’s suddenly a very tight fit, to the point where you’re wincing, body immediately wanting, trying to push him out. He notices, one hand dropping to the side of your face. “Hey, hey. Hon —“ He stops himself, lets your nickname drop, falling back into your regular name.
He isn’t sure who that action hurts the most.
One look at your vacant expression and Steve feels as if he’s been sucker punched, that he’s the meanest version of himself he’s ever been.
He’s still inside of you, you let him into your body, you told him a sacred set of words. And this is what he’s doing to you? Hurting you to the point where your body starts to get frightened? But he couldn’t just come while you poured your heart out, he couldn’t continue like his world was normal anymore. He reaches down to wrap around his base, face wrinkling, teeth gritting. You’re so fucking tight that it hurts, his cock aches for you when he eases his way outward, dragging combined essences with him. “Let me just…” He starts, deep voice a rocky, rasp, finishing when his length is gone from your body, dripping with you onto his sheets, covering him.
Once he’s out, you’re already passed the point of overwhelming vulnerability. Your legs clamp closed, your hands cover your chest, unwillingly to wrap yourself in his damn sheet that smells like home to you. Steve is unsteady on his feet, halfway hard, but slowly softening at your nearly curled position. You aren’t looking at him, you won’t, you cannot. It’s not safe right now, because if you do, it’ll all come apart and it won’t stop. Steve is on overload in his own head, eyes sparkling, tears matted into his lash-line.
He has to breathe through his nose when he says it. It’s wrong, it’s so fucking wrong. But he’s helpless, he can’t take this environment, he wants to run from you, from your words.
“I’ll, uh. I’ll, uhm… I can take you home if you get dressed.”
He’s blinking away blurry vision as he catches your wounded, tear fogged expression the moment that he’s snatching his boxers and jeans off the bed, and making for the bedroom door. He shuts it and leaves you to re-cloth yourself in silence. It’s honestly deafening, you’re not sure how you manage. Revealing your body to his room, to his scent, pictures on his wall, various trinkets, but not him. You’re shaking as you put on piece by piece of fabric, dreading having to see him.
Your hand hovers over the door, giving several pauses before you open it. You step out onto the deep carpet, plush across your feet, mashed against your toes. He’s nowhere in sight. And you remember that he took his clothing, so he’s probably getting re-dressed.
Fuck this. It’s in your brain on broadway lights, body in flight mode. You’re heading down the staircase and snatching your shoes up by the entryway, forgetting your purse in his room. You don’t care anymore, you have to get out of here, this place closing in on you like a funhouse. You shut the door as quietly as you can, then you’re sprinting down the Harrington’s driveway.
Is it dramatic? Yeah. Oh-fucking-well, you’re running on adrenaline so your body doesn’t feel the disgusting agony that’s slowly eating its way through your insides. You get about halfway and you hear footsteps approaching at high rates, your name being chanted. Steve is at your side in seconds, breathless.
“Shit, you scared me. Why the hell did you leave like that?”
Your eyes widen to give him an incredulous look, and that’s when the tears escape, rolling down your cheeks. Steve sees your disheveled state next. No purse, no shoes. Your blouse is halfway hanging off your shoulder. It’s an automatic instinct, his fingers brushing underneath the fabric, dragging across your skin as he pulls up to secure it.
You want to flinch away, but you don’t. Hurt settles in his brows. He’s fucking incredible with that question. “You aren’t wearing your shoes. You can’t leave my house like this.”
Autopilot flies in to protect you, leveling off everything else that you could say or do. There’s no anger, there’s no sorrow, there’s nothing. And that’s what scares him the most when you say, “I just wanna go home.”
He can’t stand it anymore, his natural urge to protect your safety, has him wrapping you in his arms. You still smell like his bed, like him, like love making left unfinished. Your arms remain clutched to your chest. No reaction.
He says it out loud, unknowing if he means it to you or just to himself. “We should’ve never started having sex.”
A mistake. You’re his mistake. Not his biggest. Not even a real regret.
Steve Harrington has only ever loved one girl. He’s only ever regretted one loss. He even cared more for Robin before he even went to you. Are you even pretty enough, or does he just like you because you’re friends and he’s horny, or searching for something? You’re not it, not even a morsel.
And it doesn’t matter what you say, what you do, how you feel. You’ll be stuck with that, while Steve clings to whatever he truly wants. Now you’ve lost what you’ve built with him, destroyed his safe place by becoming a cliche. He doesn’t deserve your one sided feelings.
The wheels are spinning in your head, but Steve still sees nothing in your responses, nor your reception. So he lifts his keys from his pocket to respect your wishes, his chest on fire with an acidic inferno, his head clouded with pain far worse than anything he’s ever experienced, his skull echoing with what his brain has just endured. You walk to his car without sparing a glance, feet still bare. He swallows and it just feels like piles of broken glass. He can do nothing but do what you asked of him.
He drives you to your house in silence. Steve Harrington has been sure of one thing in two years, and that’s always been you. But as he pulls up to your house, you’re climbing from his car before he can put it in park, your voice hauntingly, desperately hollow. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”
And you leave him, the levee going to break once you’re through your front door, pain in between your legs to remind you the next morning before your mind does. His nose crinkles, his fingers pinching, a thin line of snot trailing out. Steve wants to say to you that it’s him who has ruined it all. That he’s so scared of those words, that he doesn’t understand how someone could love him, so he can’t let your words sink in, can’t consciously reciprocate. A coward who won’t let himself feel your declaration.
Steve Harrington’s brain, however, knows the truth.
~*~
Waking up the next morning had been a reality that neither you, nor Steve were prepared to handle. You pretty much cried yourself to sleep, whilst Steve held onto your purse and paced his floor until his feet verged on rug burn, tears blurring his vision. When he finally did lay down, his alarm went off two hours later. He woke to your scent all over his bed, still covering him, lingering even as he showered, especially in his car on the way to the store. The same car that things have happened in, and the very one that he dumped you off like trash last night, after what you’d gone through to tell him the extent of your feelings. He wasn’t functioning on a full level from the second he pulled into the parking lot.
~*~
You could still feel him, your body sore, brain picking up seconds after you opened your eyes, toes hitting the blush rug underneath your bed. Your sclera was bloodshot, burning, clouding over as you passed by pictures of you with Steve, and quite a few you’d taken of him solo, that you had on the corkboard above your desk. You’d deal with taking everything down later, unsure what you would be doing with the items. Forgoing breakfast was a given, your stomach in knots. Showering went painfully fast, leading you right into putting on your work uniform.
You barely made it three hours into your shift, headache, heartache going head to head, and your boss had noticed your discomfort, gently releasing you for the day. Only one person made everything better, but that was no longer an option. Your confession sets you free, backfiring what type of freedom you wanted to occur. It was eleven o’clock when you dock yourself into Family Video’s parking lot, relieved Steve was on his normal lunch hour. Even if you can spend time with Robin, it will help.
You can hurry, you don’t have to see his face.
Fate has other plans.
You’re helping Robin unpack some candy shipments when his car pulls in about half an hour early. She could tell you weren’t feeling your best, so that’s why she’d assumed you didn’t want a male presence around. You’re honestly shocked she hasn’t clocked Steve as the mystery man she’s known about the past two years.
“Don’t worry,” she says, upon seeing your soured, slightly fearful expression. “It’s just our doofus. He’s been in a brooding mood today, probably why he’s back early.”
A mood? So you have ruined it all.
You nod, forcing yourself to stay put, immediately gaining on deep breathing. At least you don’t shake when you begin to alphabetize the candy. You can hear her greet Steve before he even gets a word in. She snatches some kind of paper bag, that you assume he brought back for her — away, rifling through its contents as she speaks.
“Dingus, you still have that bottle of Tylenol in your car?”
Steve’s heart is in his throat, wrapping him tighter than Vecna’s hive minds did. He gives a silent yes, head trying to lean around a few shelves. Fuck. Of course that was your car out front, he wasn’t just imagining shit. He’s hopeful, anxious. What are you here for? Who?
“Good. Can you go get it, please? She doesn’t feel good and she’s been helping me all morning.”
Immediate worry doesn’t cover it. You’re here and not at work, and you’re sick? Steve snaps out of what trance he’s in, eyes pinching closed and he nods rapidly. “Shit, yeah. I’ll go get it. Here, Robs. Can you take my water to her?” He hands off his half drank bottle without question, moving back outside to get the medicine.
It’s funny, the look on your face as Robin presents you with his drink. You all share off of one another all the time. She places the food bag beside her, to which you politely decline her offer for some. Doesn’t matter if you haven’t eaten, you can’t.
“I know he has cooties, but I think we’re safe.” She shoulder bumps you, trying to get a smile. When you barely lift your mouth, she goes into her version of mom mode. It dawns on her and it comes from her mouth without tact.
“Wait, is this about that mystery guy who took your virginity? The one you’ve been seeing for two years? Holy shit, did he finally commit?”
If Robin couldn’t tell how you felt about Steve, or see anything from his part, then you guess it’s true.
There’s nothing to see.
You can feel your rib cage gape open, heart falling into your ass, strangled by your intestines.
Luckily, Steve has perfect timing, appearing right in earshot as Robin reveals information you never told him. The room feels small, you feel as if you could melt into the floor, non-existent. Would it matter? You are starting to think love controls everything, after all. You’re fucking doomed.
He lets his Nikes carry him forward, bottle of Tylenol in his massive hand. He’s starting to tremble, betrayal etched into his mouth, giving away what Robin now feels stupid for not knowing. It all clicks when your moods are matched, your mixed reactions combining.
“Oh. Oh, holy fuck. I’m…” She looks at her best-friend, who is halfway seething to near sobbing, and at you, who cannot look her in the eyes. “Shit, I should’ve known. Why didn’t I know? Fuck. I’ll give you two a minute —“
“Steve?” Your voice is tinged with something, one that has him slightly elated that you’re vocal, and even more pissed at you. He waits, his tongue caught in his throat, about to ask you, but you’re adding on. “May I have two Tylenols please?” Standing on your feet right after.
He’s like a fucking statue, on autopilot, unmoving this time. Robin rises, plucks the bottle gently, shaking out two and drops them into your hand, handing the container back to Steve, ultimately giving his water to you. She mouths an apology, but you’re smiling a tacky, forced grin that looks as if it’s pinching your lips. She’s bound to be upset you both neglected to tell her. Keeping your mouth shut should’ve been the reverse way.
“I’ll call you tonight, Robs. I’m sorry, okay?”
“Hey.” She stops you before you can step back to leave, wrapping her arms around you, maroon coated lips by your ear. “I don’t have a foot fetish, but I really should’ve kept the entirety of my own in there to avoid this.”
That gets you laughing softly, and you don’t look at Steve as you depart from her arms and for your car. He’s still frozen.
Robin does, though, stares right through him. She can see how much he’s hurting. She doesn’t want to judge either side, so she simply reaches up to rub along between his shoulder blades. “If you need to —“
“I’ll be right back.” His eyes are trained on your retreating form, handing her the pills as he follows you.
“That works too!” She points a finger in his direction, sighing. Is everyone else onto this, or is she just off her game?
~*~
You’ve just barely downed the pills, tasting Steve’s cinnamon breath spray, combined with his morning coffee all around the lid of his water. You chug it fast, your back still turned to the front door. That’s when the dumbass little bell rings, slapping back against the door, and his voice comes into play.
“You can taste my mouth on that, right?”
You remain non-verbal. This angers him to the point he steps close enough that you can smell his cologne and aftershave. His tone shatters, emotion bleeding through. “Because friends share things with one another.”
“Well, friends sure as hell don’t fuck!” It snaps free of your mouth, shocking the both of you, plastic crinkling in your hands. Your head is hurting, between your thighs is aching, and you’re positive that a piece of your chest has been carved out.
He’ll always have that, whether he wants it or not.
“They don’t lie about being a virgin, either! They don’t say that it’s been a while when they’re in pain and I’m fucking asking what’s wrong the first time that we have sex! If I would have known, then it would’ve been—”
“Wouldn’t have happened, so I didn’t build some little attachment to you, right?”
Steve visibly recoils.
“Is that really what you thought of me? That I was still that big of an asshole? Because we were already pretty attached. I did everything with you, you practically lived at my house.”
“If you didn’t have a date. Maybe it was just sex, me and you. Still doesn’t answer if you found me attractive. Probably just biased because you were my friend.” Word vomit. Too late to stop now.
Steve mulls over the meaning of were. Past tense? Does it apply to current?
His hands go onto his hips, a sidestep, and he turns back to look at you in astonishment, having to swipe aggressively at the wetness in his eyes. He doesn’t even know where to begin with everything you just said. His brain is screaming to tell you that no, he’s always found you fucking beautiful. That he would have preferred you over all of those dates, or any that he’s ever had for that matter. But he’s so confused about letting anything in, his tongue becomes tied, only able to get out one lame question. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
When your gaze flickers up, you see he’s snarling, but there’s tears clouding his vision. You’re a little lighter in how you speak to him, dismantling your armor. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was a loser, I didn’t want our first time to be about that, I didn’t think you would want to… I didn’t mean to — I’m sorry, Steve.”
He marvels. You really thought that? Did he not express his care for you?
“I would’ve made it better for you. Fuck, were you even okay after it happened?”
His moral compass is extraordinary nowadays, and it does make you hesitant, but you let your fingers cup his cheek. “It was the best. You were the best. I wanted it to happen with you. And it’s something that I would never take back.”
Your teeth start to chatter, your own tears forming. You want to console further, to wipe away his. But you start to let your hand slip. Steve catches it, holding your fingers in his palm, wrapping his digits around to lace. His deep voice drags along each syllable, crooked and wet with emotion. “Please let me hold you before you leave?”
And god, do you want to. You’ve never needed anything more. But if you let him… You just refuse to put yourself into that place right now. You shake your head, replacing your hand with his water bottle. His tongue pokes at his cheek, he shakes his head, attempting to argue. He closes his fist around the plastic.
“I meant what I said last night. And I realize that I ruined everything, Steve.” He can’t speak, why isn’t he able to disagree, why is it like he’s drowning, running in slow motion?
“I just don’t know if it can be repaired.” By the time you slide into your car, hand over your face, arm propped to your steering wheel, body heavy into your seat, Steve finds himself worked up to the point that he can’t bear to be around you, he can’t watch this, his figure pivoting, and he returns straight into the store, booking it to the break room.
~*~
After you’ve cried for what feels like forever, embarrassing yourself, light headed with guilt, you don’t end up driving yourself home, unable to do it in this state. You make your way to a pay phone to call Nancy. How fucking ironic. What’s worse, is that she can’t make it, you find out, as Jonathan Byers pulls up in her station wagon, letting you know that she’s sorry, but she got a call back to her job. You assure him it’s fine, grateful another friend is here, at least, joining him.
He doesn’t press you. But he knows. He’s one of them that pegged it from the start, he and Nance both.
“You okay?” Is his gruff question.
“Yeah, I just have to go home.”
He says nothing else. But what neither of you see, is Steve Harrington, as he’s just getting to the doorway, regretting his decision to not go back once he realized you didn’t leave, unable to stand you being that upset and not trying to do something (if he could) — watching the affection Jonathan Byers extends your way, and your rejection of any reluctance to accept it. His amber eyes are smoldering, his fist clenched, every muscle rigid, heart rate firing off rapid shots.
“Steve…” Robin tries, folding in beside him, seeing his dismissal of logic, his brain switching, latching onto primal panic. “You’re at work, remember? Video tapes, acne covered boss?”
But he’s throwing off his vest in response and striding towards his car, ignoring her pleas.
Tumblr media
764 notes · View notes
obx-archives · 9 months ago
Text
caught - jj maybank
Tumblr media
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. sex. language. public sex. oral sex
word count: 1.4k
author’s notes: hi!! look who remembered the password to this blog!!! it's been a chaotic but gooooood couple of months, kinda fell out of my obx phase but I'm back and I miss writing sm!!! so to all my horny babes here's a unpublished piece (that was unfinished since october) hope yall enjoy!
masterlist | join the taglist |
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
every time you and JJ were caught.
occupied —
my back is pressed against the wall, JJ holds me tightly, his lips are pecking and biting the side of my neck as he buries himself inside of me. JJ’s hands cover my mouth as his thrust becomes faster.
I didn't even get the chance to get in the shower, my shorts were stuck on my knees, same thing with JJ. I suck him for 5 seconds before he pulls me on my feet and fuck me against the wall.
“y/n did you lock yourself?” Sarah’s voice rasped on the voice
I press my lips together concentrating on giving her an answer, but as JJ keeps pounding into me, I’m pretty sure she can hear my muffled cry.
“I’m gonna come princess, shit,” JJ whispers in my ear
“I…oh gosh, I'm good,” I squeeze out
JJ presses his body closer as he gives me his last thrusts, I look at him and see him control himself not to curse as he fills me with his cum.
“Are you sure?” Sarah insists
“YES,” that was for jj, who cupped my pussy and drew his fingers on my clit.
“for fucks sake, is JJ there with you?” I hear John B. shout at the door
He gives a little chuckle before giving the door a few thumps “Can no one get laid in this house?”
“y’all are disgusting, there's a bedroom, you know?”
“oh my god”
you hear the rest of them say outside, but my mind is far away from this reality and it's focused on JJ giving me an orgasm.
hammock —
we're both spread out in the hammock. it started with a massage, I swear.
It's a massage… on JJ’s dick.
bringing the blanket outside was an unintentional good idea. I threw on top of our lower bodies as my hand accidentally started stroking JJ's cock.
his body joint under my touch, I gave him the perfect amount of pressure, tugging his wet foreskin and sweeping up the beads of precum at the tip.
JJ gasps as I bring my hands to my mouth, giving it a nice lick and stroking him down again. but faster.
I could feel him getting closer. his eyes shut tight, his arms around me felt tense, and then…pope exited the chateau facing us, laying static on our back. too late, he realized JJ’s expression and the motion of my hands.
“Ew guys, c’mon, we all used this,” he says turning his back to us
I buried my face in JJ's neck laughing.
volume –
shoving her bikini bottom to the side, I grip her hips as y/n settles on top of me, slowly sinking. I could die watching her bounce on my cock.
I palm her tits as she rocks back and forth, using me to hit the spot that makes her whine.
speaking of whining, we're lucky that there's no one home, cause we're definitely not using our indoor voices.
her palms planted on my chest, as she supported herself. her nails buried in my skin as she moans.
“just like that baby, let me see you come,”
The dirty request makes her fasten the pace and bounce in circles. I clenched my ass trying to hold the climax.
“oh fuck, jj.” she cries while her legs shake, that's my signal.
I flip us over and bury myself deeper inside of her. groaning, I gave her rough thrusts, feeling her squeezing me.
“fuck baby, don't stop j,” her sweet moans send a bolt of heat to my balls. I rise on my knees, angling her hips watching her pussy slide back and forth as she grasps at the bedsheets. 
“yes, yes,” y/n gives me one less moan as she milks my shaft. my muscles clench as she climaxes and I come right away, painting.
“oh fuck, y/n,” I grunt as my body relaxes
“ayo, glad y'all are done, 'cause I need to sleep,” we hear John B shouting as he bangs into the wall.
“oh…no,” y/n says, hiding her face with her palms.
“too late to be shy, cupcake,”
beach —
The tent was mostly in darkness, but the moon's glow peeked through. Y/N slipped in so quietly that I barely noticed. She moved around, and I could sense her doing stuff, but I was too tired to pay much attention.
I gave her a little peak and sure thing, her topless self was taking her shorts out, she was looking for something but all I could care about was the fact that she was only in her bikini, in front of me.
Yep, my dick is semi-hard.
“Can I help you, princess?”
“Sorry babe, I thought you were already asleep,” She whispers
“Luckily, I’m not, otherwise who would appreciate this view?” I told her, sitting up and trying to be as silent as her.
“Yeah, as if,”
“You’re so beautiful,”
“Thank you J” she replied still looking around 
“I think what you’re looking for is inside my shorts”
“Huh?” Y/N furrowed her brows as she analyzed my expression, I shot her a malicious smile which made clear my intentions.
“Our friends are literally right there,” She whispered again 
“You could be quiet?”
“Can’t guarantee,”
“But I can. Blow me, since you’re already on your knees,”
Y/N covered her mouth to stop the giggle, when she looked at me again, I could see that her mind was made and that it was in the same place as mine.
She adjusted herself in front of me and pushed me to the floor, slowly dragging my shorts out. She put her hair in a ponytail and held my cock in her hand firmly.
I could come just with the sight of her topless self in front of me. I’m leaking already, making her hand slide easily on my dick, I adjust myself and roughly remember that the sand is not that comfortable to be laid on. Still, Y/N lowered herself and closed her mouth around the tip, slowly sucking, and my hips snapped involuntarily. 
She sucked me deeper into her mouth, almost to the base, I have to use all my force to not let a groan leave my lips when she chokes on me. Y/N keeps her pace slow but firm, I guess to not make any “suspect” sound.
My breath is heavy and my eyes shut, she releases me and I look down as her tongue glides along my hard-length cock.
“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N” I quietly curse
She uses both of her hands to stroke me and give my balls a nice squeeze, I can see her gaze darkening, she’s getting off and seems to be fighting off the urge to not ride me.
I know this look. I give her a signal to come closer.
“What?”
“Let’s fuck”
“No, not here.”
“I have the keys to the Twinkie,” 
“Then what are you waiting for?” She murmurs, cleaning the sides of her mouth, she slid into one of my shirts and I pushed my shorts back, exiting both of us, half-naked.
We successfully sneaked out and the only sound around us was the waves, I grabbed her hand and guided us far from the sand. 
As I open the doors, I look around and lock it behind us.
It all happened too fast, I slipped my tongue in her mouth and she desperately climbed on top of me, my shorts were now stuck to my ankles and Y/N’s bikini bottoms were pushed to the side.
Reaching for it, Y/N aligns my erection into her entrance and sinks in it.
Both of us let out a moan, feeling the pleasure fill our bodies, Y/N fastened her pace, bouncing on top of me, I’m too close for her, any minute I’m out, but since my girl is getting there I hold as much as I can.
“Mmm yes JJ, touch me”
I lifted my shirt out of her body and sucked and licked on her buds, she was bouncing and grinding her clit on me, it’s noticeable that she is getting there. The gasps and the nails digging on my tights confirm that.
With my free hand, I hold her waist and meet her halfway through her movements, each deep thrust sends me closer and closer to the edge. I can’t hold it any longer. Her moans are desperate and her whining is music to my ears.
“Y/n, fuck…”
Our breathing grows as our bodies slap together, and her mouth opens without making any sound, that’s my cue. I burst inside of her as her body shook on top of me. My last pound is weak leaking out of her.”
“Fuck baby, that was insane.”
“Thank God for the Twinkie.”
“More like than God for m-”
“JJ, I’m gonna kill you.” John B's voice echoes outside as he bangs the Twinkie door.
My bad, I guess.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss | @jjmaybankisbae | @zxmbiegxrl | @hoeforstarkey24 | @itsme-98-blog | @everydaydreamer
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
© obx-archives 2024 — no one has permission to copy or translate any of my works, if you see any of my work being reproduced in another platform please contact me! :)
1K notes · View notes
exactlyyoungchaos · 6 months ago
Text
Loss of my Life.
Husband Simon X Reader.
My first time writing here!!! Please don't mind the mistakes as I'm writing this at 5 in the morning. enjoy!!!
TW: loss of a relationship, hurt, angst, little comfort, cursing, trauma(loss of family, mention of miscarriage), "its not you, its me bullshit" let me know if i missed something!
You used be a medic working with TF141 for years before you retired. that's how you met your now husband Simon Riley. he was the most loving, attentive and responsible partner you could've asked for, he was ghost to everyone but not you, never you. But something's changed recently.
ever since his last mission eight months ago, he's been detached, not talking to you properly, coming home extremely late and drunk. he hasn't even touched you since he came back and its saying something for a guy who used to be attached to your hips whenever he could.
you tried talking to him, tried asking what's wrong but you always got the same answer, " you're thinkin too much lovie, nothings wrong."
but you know your husband so you start digging, and that's the biggest mistake you have made.
you found a note in his vest pocket, where he keeps his wedding ring during missions that read " be safe and come back to me" in a handwriting you knew by heart but it wasn't yours.
it was of his childhood best friend. she was in the special forces as well, and recently worked with Simon's team on the last mission.
you knew then and there, the reason of the detachment, the curt responses. your husband was in love with the woman he told you not to worry about.
your eyes blur with the realization that the life you once knew is soon going to come to an end, the man you're in love with , who's ring you have been wearing for years is not yours anymore or maybe he never was.
you sat there in your closet, tears streaming down your face, gut wrenching sobs coming out of you mouth. he isn't home, like usual so there is no one to witness the loss of your life.
your brain conjure up all the good times you had with him but now all of it is tainted by the realization that none of it was true.
you remember every time you caught both of them looking at each other, the friendly adoration in Simon's eyes now looked like longing, with his hands still around your waist.
every time he said to you "you're the love of my life" with his lips on yours, was he wishing it was her? all these years, you were so in love, so blinded by the rose tinted glasses you had over your eyes that you never saw it?
you sat there for hours, mulling over your whole life. how the one person you thought was yours forever was never yours. so you got up, eyes hollow, bloodshot and puffy, your form trembling. you put the note back where it was and go lay on your bed.
you stare at the wall for hours, around three am, your front door opened and closed. you felt him as he walked in the bedroom and slipped under the sheets next to you.
for the first time in weeks, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you towards himself, " you awake love?" he murmured in your neck.
all that came out of your mouth was, " Am I not enough?" in a rough whisper.
his arms tense around you, he knows that you know. before he could say something, you turn to face him, still in his arms.
you look at his face, and trace his scars with your fingers as tears fell from your eyes on your pillow.
his expression is tortured, " Its not what you-" but you cut him off with a soft shush and a finger on his lips. the lips you called home for as long as you remember.
you don't want him to lie to you anymore so you smile, the same smile Simon has witnessed when you lost your whole family in an accident as he stood next to your shaking form during the funeral, the same smile you gave him when you had a miscarriage as he stood next to you on the hospital bed holding your hand, grieving with you.
his heart was breaking, he was cursing himself for doing this to you. but you don't blame him, you haven't said anything to him except "will you hold me for the last time? please?" and you bury your face in his chest, taking in his scent for the last time. feeling his erratic heartbeat for the last time.
Simon's hand tightened around you, he doesn't want to let you go. the only good thing that happened to him. he destroyed you, like he always does to anything he touches.
he knows he cant fix this, nothing he could say would fix this. so he held you, with all his might, for the last time.
part 2?
403 notes · View notes
fuckmycrane · 1 year ago
Text
Moon — Thomas Shelby.
Tumblr media
— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)
— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.
Tumblr media
Vulnerability. 
It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of. 
It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him. 
And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.
Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.
Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.
He wishes he could steal you. 
He knows how much he loves you.
It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.
He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body. 
In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you. 
Home. Home. Home.
“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.
He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice. 
Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.
“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you. 
“How is everyone?” 
“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”
“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”
“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”
With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”
And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.
“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”
That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands. 
His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife. 
Such an angel sent from heaven.
“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”
His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”
“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”
Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”
You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”
The loyalty he so loves. 
His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor. 
“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view. 
“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you. 
But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.
He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…
Love you.
With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has.  Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning. 
Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave. 
“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear. 
“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.
It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling. 
A warm, fuzzy feeling.
He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end. 
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.
And he swears it to the moon.
2K notes · View notes
spdrwdw · 8 months ago
Note
hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻
Tumblr media
Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k
Tumblr media
Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 
Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 
Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 
At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 
Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 
The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 
At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 
Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 
No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.
Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 
It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 
It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 
You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 
“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.
“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 
“I heard what you said! But, why?!”
“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”
“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 
Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”
“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”
You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 
Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 
“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”
You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.
Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.
Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 
After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 
When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 
“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 
You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 
He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 
You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 
Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 
Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 
One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.
Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 
You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 
Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 
Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 
Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 
Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 
The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 
Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 
“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.
Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 
He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 
“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”
Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 
Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.
"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.
Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 
Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 
Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 
Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 
“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”
”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 
“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 
The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 
Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”
The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 
Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 
“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 
“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 
He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 
No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 
But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.
You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.
It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 
You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 
Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 
—-
You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 
You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 
Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 
A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.
You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 
Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 
Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 
He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 
“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 
As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 
“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 
You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 
You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 
“What?” You questioned. 
“What are you wearing?” 
“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 
“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 
“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 
“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 
The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 
When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 
He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 
The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 
As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.
Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.
 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 
“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 
You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 
“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 
“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 
Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”
”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 
“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”
The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 
“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 
You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 
“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 
“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 
One day.
“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 
“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 
“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 
All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 
“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 
“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  
You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 
Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 
You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 
Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 
You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 
Tumblr media
642 notes · View notes
sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago
Note
Hey could I please get #8 and #12 with coriolanus snow please? (even better if he's a little bit insane as long as he ends up happy with Y/N at the end)- thanks so much :))
-E
‘’If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?’’ + ‘’I did this for you! Everything I’ve done has been for you!’’
I've been getting requests for Peeta, but I'm not - and will not be -writing for him. I never fell for him in the movies 🫣
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
Tumblr media
You couldn’t remember how the situation got so heated, but one moment you were laughing and having a good time inside the Hob bar and the next you and Coriolanus were yelling at each other. To add drama and theatrics to the scene, it was pouring rain. 
‘’I did this for you! Everything I’ve done has been for you!’’ he shouted, his pretty eyes filled with anger. 
You halted in the wet street and looked back at him, your wet hair clinging on your body. ‘’But I never asked anything from you!’’ you shot back, sick of hearing the same speech. ‘’I never asked you to come to my district and find me after the games.’’
‘’So you’d rather I did not?’’ he retorted with an arrogant edge. 
You shook your head. ‘’That’s not what I said.’’ 
You had never smiled wider than the night you saw Coriolanus in the street with Sejanus. His blond hair was no longer, all buzzed like the other peacekeepers. His decision to bribe the commander to serve as a peacekeeper in your district was a high risk, but the happiness it brought you outweighed the danger.
His jaw tensed, raindrops rolling down his face like unshed tears. ‘’I risked everything for you! For us. Is it not enough?’’ 
Your frustration echoed in the relentless rain, wishing he would get why you were upset without you having to explain it to him. But he was a man. Men never understand why these small things matter, why they can be hurtful. 
‘’We were having a drink with friends and you…you dropped my fucking hand! It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me. We’re not at the Capitol anymore, Coryo. We’re allowed to be together.’’
‘’Peacekeepers are not allowed to have a woman while serving. I could get in trouble if someone told about us to my commander.’’ 
A bitter laugh escaped you at his cowardly answer, lost in the drumming of rain on pavement. Where was the man you met in the Capitol who crossed rules left and right to get his ways? 
‘’Since when are you following the laws?’’ 
Coriolanus stayed quiet, your question left unanswered. 
You took a few steps toward him, trying to ignore how hot he looked drenched in rainwater by lowering your eyes on the buttons of his blue button-up shirt. All night inside the Hob, you had been thinking about the time you’ll go home and get to have him to yourself.  
And now here you were, fighting in the street…
‘’You think these men stay celibate for their twenty years of serving?’’ you asked, pointing back to the bar. ‘’Don’t be a fool.’’ 
‘’It’s different for us. I was your mentor. If it gets to the Capitol’s ears that you and I found our way to each other, I will be dispatched to another district or worse, we’ll both get hu—’’ 
You interrupted him with a scoff. ‘’You think anyone in there is gonna snitch on us? These people have no idea who you are, besides that you are a peacekeeper. And even if they did, they don’t care. You could have a hand under my skirt under one of the tables and they wouldn’t even notice. They’re just here to listen to music and have a drink and dance.’’ 
Your words were a stretch, but you needed to prove your point with something that would get a reaction out of him. 
Something shifted in Coriolanus’s eyes. He reached for you, grabbing your arm in a rough grip and pulling you close to him. ‘’I’d never share you with these men,’’ he growled between you, his jaw tight.
‘’If I’m yours, then show them,’’ you challenged, daring as you looked into his eyes. ‘’If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?’’ you asked, raindrops clinging to your lashes. ‘’I’m not asking for much, Coryo,’’ you continued, your voice a mix of frustration and longing. ‘’I just want you to be with me. If you can’t give me that, then you made a mistake coming here.’’
The world seemed to pause, the only sound being the raindrops hitting the ground and turning it into mud. 
Coriolanus opened his mouth to speak, igniting a small glint of hope in your eyes. 
A part of him will always be scared that you’ll be separated again, but he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life because he was scared of losing you. 
Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802  @CZARINERA @katherinejess
913 notes · View notes
ghostface001 · 2 months ago
Text
Broken Bottles
March is falling for you, but he sees how you act around Olric and knows you'll never return his feelings. His solution is to bottle up his emotions and drop kick it as far away from him as possible. Somehow, he doesn't realize what happens to glass when you kick it.
March x Reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), assumed unrequited feelings, minor swearing, drinking as a coping mechanism, a slightly toxic confession scene
Note: This took a lot longer to write than I thought it would, but I love it, so that's okay. Please let me know if you like it! Tagging @atoltia because she asked so nicely
The bell ringing above the door of the blacksmith’s prompts March to turn from his spot at his desk to see who entered, greeted by your bright smile and sack of ore from your latest trip down to the mines. He ignores the clenching in his chest as you beeline to him, procuring a perfect piece of iron ore and holding it out to him. 
“Hey, I found this and thought of you.”
He hates it when you talk to him like you want to see him. It could be so easy for him to trick himself into thinking that’s the case. The increased visits to the shop when you don’t need any new tools, the gifts, the attention — when he’s feeling particularly delusional, he wonders if it truly is all for him. But the illusion breaks after he takes the ore and gives the only response he’s capable of under your expectant gaze, something lukewarm to disguise the warmth rushing to his cheeks, and you move on to who you’re actually here for. 
Olric. 
It’s annoying, hearing Olric tell the same stupid story about his most recent part-time shift around town for the third time in two days. It’s even more annoying when he has to hear you laugh at it, because now instead of focusing on his work, he’s distracted by coming up with ways to hear your laugh for the rest of his life. 
“I’m trying to concentrate. Don’t either of you have work to do?” His voice comes out harsher than he intends, but he can’t bring himself to amend it. His position at his desk is a convenient cover from your gaze as you pause. Do you see the white-knuckled grip on his pencil? Do you notice the redness in his cheeks?
He doesn’t have to look at you to know your expression. Raised brow, a wrinkle of confusion and annoyance. He hasn’t snapped at you like that in a while, hasn’t deemed you a nuisance. You thought you were past this with him.You purse your lips and side-eye Olric, who only gives you a guilty shrug. “Sorry, March. I’ll get out of your hair.” You shoulder your bag and say goodbye to Olric, pausing at the door. “I’ll see you both at the inn tonight?”
“Yeah, totally!” March gives a flat grunt following Olric’s enthusiastic answer, and continues scribbling out blueprints. 
The door closes behind you, leaving a tense silence as Olric decides whether or not to question him. Before he can, a gasp escapes him. “I have a shift at the general store!” He rushes out the door, and March turns in his chair to see him walk past the window with you smiling brightly at him. 
The rip of paper brings him out of his thoughts. March looks down at the blueprints to see a large tear where the pencil had ripped through the paper. With a frustrated sigh, March balls up the paper and tosses it into the wastebasket before pushing himself up from his desk, grabbing his hammer and heading out the door.
Get a grip. 
Why do you care who the stupid farmer talks to anyway? 
Why do you think they’d ever smile at you like that?
Each passing thought is channeled into March’s swing, punctuated by the loud banging of his hammer against metal. The shop needs a new sword on display after he gave you the last one in exchange for all the ore you’ve been handing over. He can’t let himself be in debt to you. Can’t let himself owe you anything. Because then you’d just give him that smile you have whenever you think you’ve made progress with him, the one that drives him insane. You drive him insane. Every laugh when he brags about his skill, every smile as you hand over a gift from the mines, every new scar from your journeys down there… he can’t tell if he admires you or is worried about you when you act like nothing happened after passing out in the mines. Seeing his sword strapped to your back as you run around town helped after the last time Valen had to heal you — it also made it worse. It made you keep talking to him; it made him keep responding. And now… now it just makes him confused. Frustrated. Annoyed.
Angry.
Angry when you smile at him as though he deserves it. Angry when he messes up and snaps at you. Angry when you just roll your eyes and give it back to him, making his stomach twist in guilt — both because you don’t deserve his attitude and because he likes it when you return his energy. You don’t coddle him like Olric does. You don’t defend him when he’s being a jerk. You don’t insist he’s secretly better than he is. You see him for who he is, and you like him for who he is. 
But you like Olric more. You like Olric in the way March wishes you would like him. Not that he blames you, though he can certainly pretend to. Olric is better than him. Maybe not at blacksmithing, but at everything else. Everything you deserve. And it pisses him off.
“Are you, uh… trying out a new technique, bro?”
March forces his glare away from Olric to the anvil. The sword he’d been taking his anger out on now sits in pieces, the metal ruined from sitting in the forge for too long before he started working on it. He sneers down at his failure. “No. I’m screwing up.”
“I’m sure it can be reused… somehow.” Olric reaches up and scratches the back of his neck as he attempts to be reassuring. 
“It can’t.” March swipes the metal into the scrap bucket that’s been steadily becoming more and more needed the longer you’ve been living in his head. Maybe it’s for the best that you like Olric. That way, he can finally force his feelings to the back of his mind and get back to his standards of perfection. Maybe it’ll actually work this time. 
Olric is saying something about not worrying about the waste of metal when him saying your name brings March’s attention back. “— and I are going down to the tide caverns of the mines tomorrow, if you want to join?”
The offer makes March roll his eyes. He’s never been a miner. After the earthquake, sometimes he’ll go a few levels down in the upper mines for copper if he’s really desperate, but otherwise, he relies on Olric and Balor for supply. Not to mention, he’d rather look for worms after it rains than be a third wheel to you and Olric in the mines, working together, protecting each other with his sword on your back—
“March?”
He grits his teeth and tears off his gloves. “I’ll pass.” He storms past Olric into the shop, slamming the door behind him. 
~~~
As soon as you walk into the inn, March feels the room brighten, and he watches you make your rounds. You first visit the Dragon Guard, who are conspiring on their next hit — March overheard them ‘whispering’ about Juniper earlier, the kids aren’t subtle. Next, you check in on the latest session of Dragons & Drama that Celine is running, and after that, you stop for a round of cards. March observes you sitting next to Olric, consulting each other about your hands to the annoyance of everyone else playing. And when you win instead of Olric, he cheerfully congratulates you, his arm around your shoulders causing March to grip his glass tighter.
You finally sit next to him at the bar, and the sinking feeling in his gut disappears with your smile. Hemlock slides a drink to you over the bar, and you thank him before turning to March, your voice low. “You seemed a little off this morning, are you feeling better?”
“Now that you’re here,” He drawls with a smile, propping his head up with his hand, his elbow resting on the bar.
You bite back a smile, and March suddenly has the strong urge to cup your cheeks in his hands as your face takes on a warmer hue and you laugh softly, hiding behind a sip of your drink. “Did Olric ask you about the mines tomorrow? I wanted to ask you myself, but thought you might still be… moody.”
He frowns — if he’s being honest, it’s more of a pout. “‘S’not fair.”
Your brow furrows. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to bother you.”
“You are bothering me.”
Your face twists in confusion and offense. “I can leave—”
“Noooo.” It begins to occur to March that drinking does not make him magically better at expressing himself. He reaches forward as you start to get up, but you’re closer than he’s prepared for, so he holds your wrists when he means to take your hands in his. “I mean… ‘s’not fair that you hang out with Olric all the time. ‘S’like you like him or something.”
“I do like him.”
You say something else, but the blood is already rushing in his ears. “You… you do?”
Your confusion doesn’t let up. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
No. There isn’t. Because Olric is everything March isn’t. He’s nice, and humble, and respectful. His compliments aren’t backhanded, and his praise doesn’t have to be earned. Olric doesn’t have to hide behind alcohol to express how he feels. He doesn’t have to drink to be happy. 
You like Olric. March already knew, but to hear it from your lips makes the sting burn. The warmth of your skin under his hands turns to ice, and he pulls back quickly. Too quickly, as his elbow hits his glass and sends it crashing to the ground. 
Everyone turns at the sound of glass shattering, and March’s face burns under their gazes as he pushes himself to stand. You reach out to steady him as he stumbles, avoiding stepping on broken glass. “I’ll pay for it,” He manages as Josephine approaches, ready with a broom and dustpan. 
 “There’s no need. You didn’t get nicked or anything, right?” Josephine waves him off with a smile that he can only read as pity.
“I’m fine.” He backs away, keeping his head down, and shoves his hands in his pockets before leaving. The cool night air does little to help the burning in his cheeks as he stalks over the bridge to get home. 
On the way, a hand is on his shoulder. And he turns to see you, your concerned gaze under the moonlight doing nothing to help his inner turmoil. “March? What happened?”
“I said I’m fine!” He wrenches himself away, glaring at you. “Just go be with your boyfriend!”
You hold your hands up to placate him, only angering him more. “What are you talking about?”
“Olric!” He steps forward, closing in the space between you. “You said you like him, so how about you go do something about it instead of being a useless coward?”
Your face falls for a moment before hardening, and you straighten. “Get some sleep, March,” You say coolly. “It seems like you need it.”
You head back to the inn, and March glares over the side of the bridge, debating the merits of a night swim when Olric finds him and brings him home. 
~~~
March is occupying himself witht he inventory books the next morning when the bell above the door rings. He looks up to see you enter, dressed for the mines, with his sword strapped to your back. Despite the pain relieving tonic from Valen, his head throbs. “Olric left already,” He bites out, forcing himself to look down at the book.
“I told him I’d meet him there.” You set a paper cup on the sales desk and push it towards him. “Fresh from Darcy. She said she hasn’t seen you today.”
There was no chance in hell he was going to the market today. Everyone would just ask him how he was, and what was wrong, and he might just throw himself over the bridge for sure. His headache forces him to take the cup, despite never wanting to accept anything from you ever again. It’s a mocha. At least he can pretend it’s from Darcy knowing his order instead of you. You watch him expectantly as he takes a drink, an edge in your gaze. You’re expecting him to lash out at you again. He just might. “You should go. Wouldn’t want you to be late for your date.”
Your eyes narrow, and he pointedly returns to the inventory lists. “It’s not a date,” You reply. 
“But you want it to be.”
“No, I don’t.” You reach forward and close the book, bringing it over to your side of the desk. March glares at you, but you don’t waver. “So, let’s talk about it.”
It’s times like these when March wishes you would treat him like everyone else. Give him a wide berth when he’s upset, only bother him when necessary, and treat him like a ticking bomb just waiting to go off. Stop being so… you. Maybe then he wouldn’t like you as much, and you wouldn’t be forcing this conversation on him in the first place. “If you want to talk so bad, then talk to Olric,” He grits out.
“You are such a child!” You round the desk, removing the barrier between you. “I’m not dating Olric, I don’t want to date him—”
“You said you like him—”
“I thought you meant as a friend!” You throw your hands out in exasperation. “And you know what? Even if I did like him romantically, why do you care? Why is it any of your business?”
He balls his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “It isn’t.”
“No.” You step forward again, closing the distance between you. “It’s not rhetorical. Why do you care so much about who I like, March? Because I have a feeling, but I’m not gonna make it easy for you after you’ve been treating me like shit for no good reason. So how about you do something about it instead of being a useless coward?”
For the first time in a long time, he does something about it. The kiss he pulls you in for is bruising and awkward, but that doesn’t stop you from returning the intensity with equal fervor. His drink sits forgotten on the table as he holds the back of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip. You clutch the front of his shirt tightly, arching your body closer into him. His lips part, and you capture more of him, causing him to gasp against your mouth.
When you finally part, neither of you let go of the other, both breathing heavily. “Why… why did you think I liked Olric?” You ask softly, still catching your breath. 
He knows his face is red, but he’s close enough to see that your cheeks are a deeper hue as well. “You always come by to see him.”
“I always come by to see you.” Your palms flatten against his chest and you laugh. “Do you seriously need me to tell you how disgustingly obvious it is that I like you? Because I will. And it will be disgusting. And slightly stalker-y. And you’ll feel really stupid that you got it wrong.”
He purses his lips to hide the smile threatening to surface. “So, what, you’re so smart that you’ve known I liked you all along and did nothing about it?”
“I had no idea until you freaked out on me last night.” Your hand trails up to his cheek. “So I guess we’re both a little stupid.”
“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, dipping his head down. “I didn’t do it right the first time.”
“It felt alright to me.” Your gaze falls to his lips. You can still feel where your teeth had knocked together, and your lips sting. 
“‘Alright’ isn’t good enough.”
“You’re such a perfectionist,” You laugh, leaning in so your lips graze against his. “But I’ll allow it.”
He closes the distance, and vows to perfect his technique as long as you’ll let him.
213 notes · View notes
sweetestcaptainhughes · 4 months ago
Text
that’s my man
Tumblr media
Word Count - 7200
Summary: Cole loves to train, and it’s no secret that’s how he’s number three on the Grind ‘24 list. But it’s also no secret that in the summer he loves taking his girl with him to the gym. But what happens when the new check-in doesn’t get the memo that Cole is in fact taken. 
Warnings: jealous girlfriend, easily embarrassed boy, talks of different kinks, VERY sub male, dom female, praising kink, thigh riding
Author's Note: I don’t know a lot about lifting, but I know enough to write this. Also if you're someone who goes to the gym regularly. They are doing a full-body day because you can fight me on it but it’s actually better as far as recovery time. As per usual, I was too lazy to do a full grammar edit, so sorry in advance. Anyway, thank you for reading as always. 
Masterlist
One of your favorite things to do in the summer was go to the gym with your boyfriend. Honestly, you don’t know what it was that made it your favorite summer activity. Maybe it was because you knew Cole cheered you on like no other when you beat a PR. Maybe it’s because he’s one of the only humans who you truly trust as your spotter knowing that man will injure himself before anything happens to you. Maybe it was that somehow he always wears the same damn white snapback and tightest shorts he has. Maybe it was because you loved being able to tease him in between sets. Maybe it was the fact that you were able to just stare at him while his muscles tensed to lifting the heavy weights. If you were being honest with yourself it was probably a mixture of all the above that made you happily jump your ass in the car before him when he asked if you wanted to come. 
This time was no different when Cole walked into the kitchen and hugged you from behind as he asked if you wanted to go to the gym with him. You happily agreed, especially since you couldn’t go the other day with him due to your work schedule. Quickly nodding your head yes, you ran upstairs to get some leggings on, crew socks because you liked lifting in socks, and a random Montreal crop top with 22 on the sleeve. Once you were done, you threw some vans on and went downstairs to meet Cole in the car. He already had the AC blasting and music on. As soon as you buckle your seatbelt, he is pulling off and handing you your water bottle he filled up. “Here you go Mamas” he shyly says, rarely does he call you by that name and whenever he does it makes himself blush. Deciding to reward him for the pet name you reach over and lightly kiss his cheek. 
“Thank you, baby boy.” you can’t help your smile grow as his cheeks get even more red.
It’s like time escapes you and before you know it Cole’s parking the car.  Both of you are shuffling out of the car. Cole waits for  you at the back of the car and flexes his hand, you know he wants you to hold his hand but he won’t say it out loud. A large part of you loves how shy he still is even after almost a year together. Slowly you reach for his hand that isn’t holding your water bringing it to your lips and leaving a small kiss. “Happy baby?” you ask shyly, he didn’t have to answer you already knew the answer. As you watched his cheeks stay that light red color, and smile shyly down to you.
Once you're inside you hear someone call Cole’s name, you turn your head to see it’s a girl you don’t recognize behind the desk. Cole starts to walk over, pulling you automatically due to your interlocked fingers. “Oh hey Chesley, nice to see you again.” Cole starts to make small talk with the girl and you can’t help but notice how she stands dipping over the counter trying to put her breasts on display. As if that’s not already too forward, she lightly touches Cole's upper bicep as his arm rests on the counter. 
“I’ve been great, I’m so glad to see you again… you know after the other day.” Her voice makes your stomach hurt.
“What was the other day?” you ask even though you know ignoring this girl was probably for the best. The little jealousy that started to brew in your gut couldn’t help but want answers.
“Oh you know when you were working the other day. That’s when I met Chesley and you know how the locker room door gets stuck sometimes y/n/n, well she didn’t know how to get it unstuck and she had to use the bathroom” you nodded your head yes but your eyes never left the girls as she wouldn’t stop staring at you “- and I was the only one here so I helped her.” Cole sounded like he had no idea what he just walked into and he probably didn’t. “Oh wait let me introduce you guys - Chesley this is my girlfriend Y/N, Y/N, Chesley.”  
“Hi nice to meet you.” you say your other hand is going to wrap itself around Coles arm that was still holding your hand. Not caring if it came off bitchy when you didn’t extend your hand especially since she hasn’t stopped batting her eyelashes at Cole since you got here. 
“Hi. oh Cole well if you need anything I’ll be here. I know last time you forgot your water.” The way she said it slipped like it was some secret between them. But it did cause your face to wrinkle in confusion because it didn’t make sense.
“Water? Baby you never forget your water.” you say turning to him.
“I know, but I was leaving as my mom was calling and I guess I got distracted.” His cheeks are still a soft pink from earlier in the parking. You couldn’t help but smirk at how easily embarrassed Cole gets sometimes. As you glance back to the girl, you see her smirking thinking she’s the reason for Cole’s blush, and something twists in your stomach. 
“It’s okay because I let him drink from mine. Plus you earned it shoving that door open after your… Hard workout” As she reached up to touch his arm again. Cole must have finally realized what was happening and pulled away. He really isn’t big on physical touch from people he doesn’t know and the fact he pulled away makes you smirk.  
“Well we're gonna go see ya” you don’t even pretend to be nice as you pull Cole away. You can feel her eyes following you to the turf as you put one earbud in, put on your playlist, and shove off your shoes. 
“Hey mamas, do you want me to spot you first?” he asks as he sets his water down, as you shake your head no. Handing him the other earbud and he quickly puts it in his ear. 
“It’s okay Cole you can go first today, I need to stretch anyway.” Cole can tell by your voice that something is wrong but decides not to push it. He walks over to the barbell that’s on the floor, adding the proper amount of weight while you finish your dynamic stretching. As you look up you can see Chesley starring at Cole while he sets the bar. 
Possessive isn’t a word you would normally use to describe yourself but as you feel your jaw set with her watching your boyfriend shamefully as he bends down to make sure the weights are fully locked in. Something about this girl shamelessly staring at his thighs makes you want to claim Cole, mark him as yours even though she already knows he is. You glance over at Cole as he moves the bench to behind the bar, knowing that means he’s decided to start with hip thrusts. Cole starts his set of twelve reps, slowly raising his hips each time, you can’t help but let your mind wander as you finally start to make your way over to him. Once he’s done with his first set he sits up shoulders resting against the back of the bench, the bar rolling stopping barely mid thighs. You come up to him from behind, separating your legs so they’re on either side of him and sit down on the bench. Your hands remove his snapback teasingly put it on yourself. “Hey give it back.” he says in a fake annoyed voice. His head tilting back so he can see you with a pout on his lips. Both of you know however that his announce and pout are fake and that he likes when you wear his clothes even if it’s just a simple hat. Your fingers lightly scrap at his head, his body automatically relaxing under your touch. His hands move away from where they were resting on the bar, to moving to the sides of your calves pushing you closer to him as he sinks into your legs. “Feels good love.” softly closing eyes, letting himself get lost in your comfort for a few seconds. Although you love this little moment you're having, the jealousy in you, can’t help but glance up at Chesley, as she quickly averted her eyes as you make eye contact. 
“Alright my time for my set.” you say as you remove your fingers from his hair and place his hat back to keep his hair out of his face. As you find both you moving around the gym, you still find the girl’s eyes following your boyfriend. Later when you were benching you could feel her eyes like a bad itch on your skin. Cole being your spotter could feel you start to slip as you were doing reps until failure. 
Cole hand was right there ready to help you if you felt like you needed as you finished one last rep. But once he saw you second guess the last pushup he didn’t give you a choice. “I got you baby.” as he gently helped you lift the bar to lock it in the stand. 
“I am proud of you know, you realize you just benched as much as Luke does. AND you got more reps in than him the other day!” with a small chuckle. 
“Yeah well he’s barely been in the gym all summer so nothing to celebrate.” you mumble annoyed at yourself.  As you watch your boyfriend bend his head over the bar to look at you, slightly frowning at your pout. 
“Okay so he’s a lazy fucker we knew this. But do you want to hear the lecture about how insane it is that you're a girl and your muscle density isn’t-” you pull Cole down with a smile on your face and kiss him upside down.
“What’s that for?” he mumbles, not fully pulling away. 
“To shut you up but also thank you.” you mumble as you pull away you see Cole’s cheeks bright red and as you sit up you see Chesley looking at you both from the check-in desk again. 
This isn’t your proudest moment and you're not sure if it’s you being frustrated that your spotter actually had to rescue you or just Chesley staring all morning at your boyfriend. But you decide at that moment, to turn on the PDA even more which is wild because you and Cole never have this much PDA in general. It’s almost impossible to find pictures of you online together kissing or even cuddling because you both respect your privavy and like keeping intimate moments private. Slowly you started with little touches as Cole set the weights on the rack for himself. He was so focused on what he was doing barely even noticing at first. But as you glanced up you could tell she took notice and you couldn’t help the smirk on your lips. 
Eventually, Cole did catch on to the fact that you would let your fingers ever so slightly graze his arm, or touch his thigh after a set. Everytime, he did you could feel him getting more shy and almost twitch away from your touch in shock. His cheeks looked like a lobster shade of red almost permanently from all the small touches you left behind. 
Later as you were doing jump ups, making sure your ass was on full display for Cole. He got embarrassed when you put your ass practically in his face instead of easily going from the other side. “Sorry Coley” you whine out as you turn around and see the almost permanent blush on his face from today. Once you jump down from the box, take your hand and lightly rub it down his chest and slowly bite your lip trying to look innocent. His dick twitching in his compression shorts between all the touches and now you are looking at him with that look in your eyes.  
“Hey are you okay, love. You’ve been off since we got here.” he asks suspiciously. The gulp he let out didn’t go past you. Part of you started to feel bad for doing this to your boyfriend all morning, but you also didn’t want to hear his reaction to your insecurities about the new girl. 
“Yup peachy.” trying to make your voice a normal tone but failing miserably. He gives you that look that tells you he knows you're lying. But before he can open his mouth you sigh. “I might… be a little jealous.” you barely whisper as you hide your face with your hands and shove it into his shoulder. Naturally he wraps his arms around you, tightening his grip unconsciously as if it was the most natural thing in the world to hold you. 
“Jealous of who?” he whispers, trying to keep his voice down to have a private moment despite being in a semi crowded gym. It wasn’t often you felt insecure or jealous and Cole knew that you probably didn’t want others to hear about you having an off day.As he looked down at you, finally you felt like showing yourself to him and  you removed your hands from your face. 
“The new girl, she won’t stop staring at you and yeah I know you're hot. But I’m literally right here! She could at least pretend to respect me.” With each word your voice raises to more of an annoyance. 
Cole shyly smirks “ okay let her” as he dips his mouth to your ear. “She’s not the one who’s made me hard right now.” You tilt your head up to him and take your hand to caress his check. 
“Oh yeah?” you can’t help but tease him a little.
His mouth finds your ear again, “ yeah you have me almost begging you in the middle of the fucking gym how badly I need you.” He doesn’t bother removing his face from the crock of your neck, pressing his hard on to your thigh. 
“Oh yeah.” your hand goes to the nape of his neck pushing closer. You hear him make a sound of agreement. “What do you want me to do baby boy?” At this point you should probably stop considering you're in the middle of the gym but you wanna see how far Cole is willing to go before he whines to go somewhere else. 
“I just need you please, you can use me however the fuck you want I don’t give a fuck. But if I could choose I’d have you ride me as you used my cock to get yourself off. When my mouth plays with your boobs and you play with my hair while you tell me how good of a boy I’m being for you mamas.” Cole usually isn’t so forward with what he needs especially in public and it makes you drip at the thought of claiming him. 
“Imma grab my shoes okay baby. Can you be a good boy and go to the car and wait?” you can feel him shake his head yes. “Okay good I’ll drive us home baby. I know you don’t wanna get caught by one of the boys as I’m fucking the shit out of you in the car.” You can hear him grunt as he pulls away from you pulling down the ends of his shorts trying to hide his hard-on. He backs away and turns towards the wall where you discarded your slip-on vans earlier and your water bottle. By the time you turn away Cole is already gone and you can’t help but smirk as you know he’s probably already in the car waiting for you with the AC already blasting. 
You quickly make your way out of the gym but can’t help but hear Chesley try to get your attention. “Oh Y/N you're gone so soon! Is Cole not feeling well? He usually spends hours here… with the boys.” Trying to control your breathing but honestly you wanted to clock this girl but knew that Cole loved this gym, you took another deep breath. “Guess you don’t have the stamina that he does.” Her voice sounding like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard, although you control yourself not to hit her, your mouth isn’t as easily convinced. 
“Actually Sarah was it? We just decided to get some cardio done at home instead. Cole didn’t think the owners would like it if we fucked in the middle of the turf.” Your voice comes out so sweet and innocent pretending that you have no idea why Cole would see anything wrong. You smiled as her mouth fell open, “well see ya around” as you walked out of the gym and quickly made your way to the car. Opening the driver's door you let yourself get settled in the seat, purposely not looking in Cole’s direction. You grab your airpod case and put your airpod away realizing that Cole already put the other one away. 
As you adjusted the seat and mirrors to be able to drive home you could feel Cole’s eyes burning into the side of your face. Finally you decide to give him a little attention, “thanks for listening so well baby.” as you take your right hand off the wheel and put it on his thigh slowly moving your hand up and down. All of the teasing must have gotten to Cole more than you thought because he softly buckled his hips trying to get you to put pressure where he needed it most. “And just when I compliment you for being a good listener you try to be a brat.” Your mouth making a ticking noise of disapproval as you turn onto the highway heading back to Cole’s place. 
“Please, i’m sorry” you can hear the pleading in his voice even though your eyes are 0n the road. It kind of hurts your heart a little denying Cole when he didn’t do anything wrong. 
“I know baby boy, it’s okay, I’m not mad” you say as your hand inches closer to where he needs it. Coming up on your exit, both of you realize you're only ten  minutes away from his place. “What do you need?” you ask softly as your hand gently goes over his bulge and gives a light squeeze. His one hand was going to squeeze your wrist, the other that was leaning against the window flexing as he leaned his head back. 
“I - I na need” you could tell Cole was getting overwhelmed and for once you were grateful you were close to home so he didn’t get too worked up before he could have his release. 
“Do you want me to help you cum?” you ask, your hand still not removed from the bulge that as you glance over makes you squirm from how uncomfortable it looks like it is, Cole shakes his head no quickly.
“Nnn, no. I want you, I wanna taste you mamas.” His words have more of an effect on you than he even realizes. But sadly it logically doesn’t work if you're driving and Cole knows that too. 
“Baby we're five minutes from home now okay and then you can have me I promise.” The hand that was on his bulge moved to his face and squeezed his cheek. The pout on his lips makes your knees feel weak. He shifts in his seat so that he can lean over so that his head is resting against your upper arm. Both of your hands now on the wheel for the first time this entire drive. It takes everything in you not to pull the car over and just take care of him right here but being so close to home it just doesn’t make sense. 
“I know.” you hear Cole mumble, although you're not looking in his direction, you suspect that his eyes are closed and that he’s pouting. Removing your right hand from the wheel you find one of his and put it under your crop top. His head lifts up as he feels his hand move under your shirt. 
“Mamas?" he asks in a questioning tone probably thinking about how obvious it looks to the people we pass as I turn into his neighborhood. 
“It’s okay baby, you got tinted windows.” That's all it took for Cole to unbuckle his seatbelt so he could shift in his seat fully to face you. He dipped head under your crop top and you could feel him push up at your sports bra desperately as his mouth closed on your right boob and sucked. His right hand going across your chest to squeeze the other one. “Fuck bubs. Hmmm..” one hand busy turning on your street, while your other hand goes to press Cole’s head deeper into your chest. His mouth is swirling and sucking hard on your nipple now. Wanting him to know that he’s doing a job you let out a small moan. He moans in response with your nipple in his mouth, the feeling going straight to your core. “Coles were home” you whisper, quickly removing your hand to press the garage remote. Driving into the garage and parking. Cole still hasn’t moved from under your shirt but now that the car is parked at least you can let yourself get lost in the feeling. 
Throwing your head back against the headrest and closing eyes. Your hand going under your shirt to pull at Cole’s hair, not sure where his hat disappeared to but grateful you were able to touch his hair finally. After a minute or so you became antsy to go inside. “Cole baby, it’s time to go inside.” you say in a semi-serious tone. All you hear from Cole is a grunt that you can assume means no as he squeezes your boob not his mouth harder. “Come on baby, we gotta go inside, you're acting like a brat bubs. Don’t you like being a good boy.” knowing exactly what to say for Cole to remove himself from under your shirt and start to move finally. As he pulls away, you catch him in a needy kiss, biting his lip by surprise easily taking control of the kiss. Deciding that you need to move away before you end up not leaving the car. Both of you rush out of the car, Cole running around the hood to meet you picking you up unexpectedly makes you chuckle as he sits on the hood of his car, quickly stepping between legs. He connects your lips again but quickly you take control of the kiss, Cole moaning in response. He pulls away after a minute to catch your breath, and he pulls on your shirt, refusing to use his words. 
“Baby you know you have to use your words. What do you need bubs? You gotta tell me.” you say slowly encouraging Cole to use his words instead of pouting. He also knows when he uses his words 90 percent of the time he gets what he wants. But when he’s in this state of mind, of needing to be taken care of. He tends to struggle with using his voice, which actually turns you on even more but you will never admit that to him. 
“Can I take it off mamas?” softly pulling at the fringe at the end of your shirt. He looks up in your eyes and you shake your head yes. He quickly grabs your shirt and rips it off the top of your head. Quickly making contact with your chest leaving soft wet kisses and soft bites everywhere but not hard enough to leave a mark. The feeling makes you lean your hands back to give him more access. “I wanna taste you.” he whimpers as he continues his attack on your chest slowly moving up to your neck. 
Quickly you move your arms that were extended behind you to around his neck, crossing your legs behind him. “Take me upstairs, first baby boy.” you demand.
“Okay my love.” As he picks you up and turns you both so he can carry you up the few garage steps and into the house effortlessly. Both craving each other, you lean in and continue to deepen your previous kisses, quickly feeling more desire for eachother then before. Cole can’t stop whimpering as you pull at his small hairs at the back of head as he enters the bedroom. He softly places you on the bed, without breaking contact with your kiss. Both of you kick your shoes off as soon as you make contact with the bed. He slowly pulls away sitting up on his knees to catch his breath asking, “can I please eat you out now mamas.” 
Cole usually doesn’t whine for this long, he also usually doesn’t have to wait this long for what he wants. As much as you want to to edge him on and push his limits. The idea of him sinking when he never has before makes you nervous. “Okay baby go ahead.” The smile on his face makes your stomach warm with anticipation. Lifting your hips, you help Cole take your leggings, underwear and socks off. Deciding to take your sports bra off as well. 
“Wait bubs, you gotta take something off too” reaching forward you pull his shirt above his head. Slowly you scoot up on the bed to give him more room to lay down. Leaning against the headboard as Cole dips his head down giving you wet kisses, lightly nipping your soft skin on your stomach as he makes a trail to your pussy. Moving your legs to make more room for himself, keeping his hands on your thighs making sure they stay further apart to give him more access to your core. Slowly he dips his head down and looks up at you waiting for your direction. One of your hands is going to move the hair out of his face, “go ahead baby.” 
That’s all it takes for him, to shove his mouth in your folds licking up and down as if his mouth had been in a drought for days and this was his first sight of water. He closed his eyes enjoying tasting you after begging for it for so long. His hands pressing down on your thighs pushing you closer to you. The hand that wasn’t playing with his hair, going to your boob to play with your nipple. “bubs feels good, always such a good boy for me.” you softly coo your encouraging words to your boyfriend. He decides to put your attention on your clit, moaning as he hears your breath catch in your mouth. The sensation going straight to your core, feeling yourself being worked up. Deciding that if you were gonna cum off of his mouth you needed a new angle. Pushing his face away, he got the message and pulled away, not without a small pout on his lips. 
“Lay down on your back.” your demanding  tone leaving no room for argument. Quickly he laid down beside you, his head resting against the pillows. His leg twitching in nervousness not going past you, as you smirk down at him. Sitting on your knees beside him your hand goes to lightly go over his bulge in shorts. Knowing that it was mean but not caring as the idea came to you. “Bubs you're wearing too many clothes, I’m gonna take your shorts off.” Your fingers moving up to his lower stomach, pushing down in the start of his v-line making him whine a little in response. Then returning your hand to his bulge and giving a light squeeze, Cole bulks his hips in response not caring if he got punished for it. “Babyboy wait, then once you're undressed, I am gonna sit on your face and use your mouth to get myself off.” As you slowly start to pull at his shorts and boxers he lifts his hips automatically to help you. His brows frown, wanting to know what happens next. 
Barely over a whisper he asks “ then what?” 
“I’m gonna tease you, and suck you off until you're begging for me to ride you and let you cum inside me.” Lightly take your pointer finger and trace the vein that’s so visible on his dick. “Do you think you can handle that bubs?” you ask as you start to sit, getting ready to swing your leg over his shoulder. 
“Ahmm.. yeah mamas” 
“Good boy.” Finally, swinging your leg, before you lower yourself all the way down you ask “remember the sign if you need a break right.” making direct eye contact with his hazel-gray eyes. He shakes his head and with that you sit down, your hands resting on his chest for stability. Slowly you start grinding on his face. Cole’s hands go to the back of your thighs, kneading the flush there slowly creeping up to your ass, pushing you even closer to him. Quickly you find your pace, rolling your hands as Cole’s long tongue goes in and out of your core. The pleasure slowly starts to build, you increase the speed of hips rolling, basically just grinding on his face. 
“Yeah right there baby. Don’t stop.” you encourage him. Your nails starting to dig into Cole’s chest, the little bit of pain Cole felt going straight to his dick. His hands are scratching down the back of your thighs. Starting to feel the familiar coil your stomach straightens to tighten. “Fuck I’m gonna cum, don’t fucking stop.” His nose starts to nudge at your clit, as Cole pushes you down making you sit completely on him. That being the final act being enough for the tight warm feeling your stomach to explode. “FUCK fuck I’m coming Cole. fuck” repeating it like a prayer, Cole only mildly slowing down his actions licking up all your juices as you work yourself through your orgasm. Finally, parting from his mouth you crawl down to his boxers.
“Did I make you feel good?” he shyly asks. God how you loved this man, and how he always needed to be reassured that he made you feel good. 
“You did so good baby” you softly tell him, as you straddle him. His hands go to your hips pulling you closer as you bend down so your chest is flesh with him. Starting at his most sensitive spot on his neck, immediately getting his breath to catch in his throat. Smirking as you do kitten licks, finally putting your mouth on the spot and sucking making sure to leave a bruise. “Gotta make sure I mark you so that girl knows you're taken.” The jealous feelings from earlier today slowly rising in your chest again. 
He squeezes his hands on the flesh of your hips at your words. “Mark me everywhere, cause you're the only one who I ever want to see me like this for the rest of time.” His cheeks immediately became bright red, you know that he didn’t mean to confess so much and it was in the heat of the moment. But you can’t help the butterflies form in your stomach. Kissing his cheek giving him nonverbal comfort for his confession. 
Moving on you make your way down his chest, leaving hickies on the center of his chest. Licking down each of his abs, up and down and up again. Then softly biting each ab, probably leaving bite marks, Cole doesn’t seem to care as his moans grow into groans at the pleasure. “Ppp ple- please mamas.” almost as if he’s crying out.
Glancing up at him, you see how overworked he’s getting. “I taught you better than that bubs, use your words.” Your mouth doesn’t leave his lower stomach as you make eye contact with him through your lashes. 
Cole takes a few seconds to collect himself as his hands up and down your shoulder blades, something you know he does when he’s feeling a lot of things and needs to ground himself. “Mamas it hurts.” he whines out taking another ragged breath. “Can you please help me cum.” He begs and you swear you could never say no to him when he asks so politely. You shake your head yes, and you kiss down the side of his v-line. Quickly making your way down, you leave little love bites and kitten licks up both of his thighs alternating between the two. Moving his legs so bent and open more giving you more room to down properly between them. Cole is a whimpering, moaning mess at this point. Each sound from his loops turning you on more and more. Finally making it his almost red tip, softly kissing and licking it between the slit. Cole automatically bulking his hips. Taking your hands you push down on each of his hips so he can’t move them any more. His heads going to your hair and you know that it’s going to be a matted mess but the end of this. 
Taking your tongue, you start at the base and lick down the same vein you were teasing earlier. Then going back to kiss each of his balls which you know he would describe as ‘blue balls’ if you asked him. “Fuck mamas, feels so good” his eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure your finally giving him as your mouth puts the tip in your mouth. Softly sucking, slowly taking more and more until your softly choking. Cole usually isn’t this vocal in bed but you're loving how much he always moans and grunts when you take him in your mouth. His fingers threaded in your hair, as you moved the pace of your mouth. Cole never dares to push your mouth down, scared that he might accidentally hurt you since he knows he’s bigger than most. “Augh I- I am close” he whispers and he starts moving his hips unconsciously. Deciding to quicken your pace to help him cum faster, within minutes he’s crying out in pleasure and curse words as he shoots his cum into you. Continuing to suck until he comes all the way down, and tries to wingle out of your grasp scared over getting overstimulated. Finally you pop yourself off of him, a huge smile on your face as you look up on Cole as he looks properly fucked out, that glow on his skin as he pulls you up to his face. Softly he brings you into a kiss “Thank you mamas.” he whispers once he pulls away for air. 
Kissing his neck softly, as he arms tighten around you. Sitting up stranding is lower stomach, you have a devilish smirk on your mouth. “no love I don’t think I can” Cole says knowing where your brain is going without you even saying it. 
“Oh I think you can, but if you insist I know how to give you some rest while I still get what I want.”  your voice is cheekily teasing as you pull Cole to sit, sitting fully in his lap. 
“What?” he softly asks his forehead resting on your shoulder. 
“I'd rather show you.” as you move your leg so you're straddling just his right thigh. Taking your left hand resting it on his cheek to turn his head in your direction. Moving your head to crain of your neck, as you sit fully on his thigh grinding down. Bending down slowly whispering in his ear “what if I just use you again to get off, it wouldn’t be the first time I use your thigh.” His hands tightening on your hips, his grip so tight you would be shocked if you didn’t have little bruises on them later. He hums in response as you softly kiss the hickies you gave him earlier in the crook of his neck as you continue to softly grind on his thigh. “What do you think, you wanna watch me use you as I use you to get off. I’ll let you play with my boobs. While I use you to get off, I’m not evil bubs.” Softly moving down to the spot between his collarbone and neck biting hard as he groans in his pleasure. 
“Fuck. Please” he mumbles as he softly puts his left boob in his mouth tightening his grip on your left hip. That’s all it took for you to roll your hips at a faster rate, alternating between rolls and purely grinding down on him. Breathing between both of you becoming uneven again, as you glance down to softly tease Cole’s cock as it’s already getting hard again. Cole softly bites down on your nipple, removing his mouth to hiss as you continue to softly tease him. “Do you want me to stop, I don’t know if I can get off watching you hard on. I'd rather be riding you.” letting you confess out quickly, your intrusive thoughts taking over as you slip off his thigh fully straddling him again teasing him with your hole. 
“Yeah I need you mamas please.” as he rests his forehead. “Wanna feel your warmth mamas.” You softly kiss his pouty lips, as your core clench at his words, pulling away from kiss whispering yes. Sitting down on him getting used to him, throwing your head back in your mouth at finally feeling full. Cole starts making little kisses on your chest and down the valley on your breasts as you start to bounce softly on his dick. “I wanna make you feel good please.” as he looks up at you silently asking if he can continue his attack on your breasts. 
“Go ahead baby boy.” that's all it took for him to put your nipple in your mouth, his hand kneading your other one, flicking and pinching the hard nipple. His hand on your hip shows the first sign of dominance from him today, by helping you keep an even pace. All that can be heard is your soft moans and skin slapping. Cole takes the hand that was kneading your boob to your ass kneading the flush until you're sure it’s bright red. His mouth going to your other boob deciding it needs attention. “Ugh ugh Cole fuck, you feel so good. You always fill me so well.” you voice is low, filled with your lust for the man you love. Your hand slips between the two of you to give your clit attention, rubbing small harder than normal circles on it. Your other hand moves to his hair, threading your fingers through his dirty blonde hair pulling at the roots. Cole’s mouth opened slightly at the pressure and groaned. 
“Fuck bubs. You feel so fucking good, swear your dick was built for me.” His hand on your hip helps you fasten the pace. His hips help meet your thrusts, making him hit your g-spot with every thrust.  All you can do is moan as you feel your entire body on cloud 9 from the pleasure you're feeling. “Augh augh fuck baby, your always so good for me.” you slur out due to the pleasure you feel from the start of your lower stomach tightening. 
Cole removes his head from your breast to ask “mamas i- i am gonna cum.”
“No” you demand. “Wait for me. I’mm close wait for me. Will let go together bubs.” leaning your head back as Cole leaves wet kisses down your collarbone, quickly removing the hand that was on your ass and lightly slapping it. “FUCK.FUCK. YES YES YES” you scream. Cole going back and slapping your ass a few more times, you can feel yourself about to let go.  “Let go baby, it’s okay.” 
That’s all it took for Cole to lean back and moan in pleasure as he shot his cum filling deep in your pussy and you let go. Both not stopping your thrusts until you come completely now. Cole just holds you for the first time today, kissing down the top of your shoulder while you catch your breath. “I love when you use my body.” he softly admits. 
“Oh yeah” your head softly setting into his neck. Although you can’t see him you can feel him shake his head. His fingers lightly ghosting up and down your back as he leans back so he’s laying down still on top of him. 
“You're the only one who I’ve ever let dominate me.” he admits, your head lifting up in shock.
“What?” The confusion is clear in your voice.
“You heard me mamas. You're the only one I feel safe enough to give that type of control to.” He admits his cheeks become a light pink as he lets his words sink. 
“Thank you baby. I love you.” as you leave soft kisses all over his face. Slowly you lift your hips to remove yourself, but his hands stop your hips. 
“No, we stay like this. I like being close to you.” Turning your bodies so you're both on your sides as he looks directly into your eyes waiting for a response. 
“Okay” you lightly let out, shifting again so you're on your back, Cole’s full body weight on you, as he settles between you. As your legs come up behind his back and hold him there. His face hiding in your breasts, softly kissing the valley of your breasts as he lets out a light thanks closing his eyes. He looks so comfortable you can’t help closing your eyes, your hands playing with his hair. Sleep almost grasps your consciousness. Cole's voice brings you out of sleepiness for a moment. 
“Mamas.” in a questioning tone to see if you're still awake.
“Hmmm” still not bothering to open your eyes.
“For what it’s worth, I like when you get possessive over me.” His tone is as if he’s listing a well known fact, as he snuggles deeper into you as you can feel him pulling a blanket over the both of you. The laugh that escapes your mouth is contagious as you feel Cole’s chest rumble above you. 
“Okay baby I’ll keep that in mind, let’s get some sleep.” you let out, little did you know Cole was already letting out little snores before you could finish your sentence.
326 notes · View notes