#i started this MONTHS ago and only just finished it. pls enjoy

[likeumeanit9497]

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

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“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

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[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

[reidrum]

one of me is cute, but two though?

A/N: …no explanation for this i fear. probably ovulating again. stream short n sweet, happy kinktober !

cw: *cracks knuckles* smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spence, fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, marking?, cr**mp*e, edging, aftercare, pet names, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy, fem!reader, a very real research paper that i actually looked up and read, this is filth but at least it’s prn with plot!

wc: 3.2k

summary: spencer can’t wait to have kids with you, in fact he wants to start right now

i love feedback! and talking to people!!! especially about spencer!!! pls interact with me it would make my entire existence okay thank you also this isn’t proofread

Spencer having baby fever wasn’t new to anyone, as the godfather of two of his closest friends’ children and known to be a crowd favorite to the kids at parties, he always had a longing desire to have children of his own to love and raise.

He’ll admit that at the start of your relationship he didn’t know how far the two of you would go, what kind of future was out there for you both. But the more you integrated into his life, his routine, his values, the more he knew for certain he would spend the rest of his life with you.

That brings you to today, you and Spencer were having an errands day making stops at the grocery store and target. As you’ve finished shopping around you both stand in line to checkout, and you’re standing behind a mother holding her little baby staring at you with her big green eyes. Your face melts as you coo gently at the baby, making silly faces and enjoying her little giggles.

A completely normal moment for you, but absolutely world changing moment for Spencer. It’s like something turns primal in him watching you play with the baby. Suddenly he’s picturing you rocking cradles at night, taking your kids—his kids—out to the park, how you’d look with a round belly carrying his child.

He looks at you with an adoration fueled by need, as in he needs to get you home right now before he attacks you in the middle of target.

A gently nudge pulls him from his daydream, “Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second.”

He shakes his head and steps forward to place the items on the conveyor belt and goes up to pay, “Yeah, no I’m okay.” he says mindlessly swiping his card and grabbing the bags.

You furrow your brows and walk to the car, tabling his weird behavior for another time to discuss, “I’m too hungry to question whatever that was right now, can we get pho?”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head before getting into the driver’s seat, absentmindedly still thinking about what your little ones would look like.

After you get lunch it’s a short drive home, but Spencer can’t help but wonder how the hell he got to this point. He wanted children with you, and yet you weren’t even married, not even close to it. You had just moved in with him only a few months ago, but he’s still firm in knowing he wants to spend forever with you.

You open the door to the house, Spencer following behind imagining little footsteps pattering throughout the house, a mini you and mini him. He’s so into his daze he doesn’t see the dining table and bangs his hip against it.

He groans in pain as you rush into the room, “Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

“No, I’m fine I just hit my hip.” He winces in pain.

The suspicion from earlier rises again and you can’t help but bluntly ask, “What is going on with you? You’re being spacey and weird with me. If it’s something I did please tell—“

“Do you want kids?” he blurts out interrupting you.

Your eyes widen, “Wh—what?”

Spencer’s eyes widen too, why the hell did he just say that? “I—um…Okay, not as in right this second. But, is that…something you’d want in the future?”

You pause for a few seconds before speaking softly, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay. Cool.” He tries to say as nonchalantly as someone who downed an espresso shot.

Then it all starts to click for you, the lingering touches, the looks at the store when you’d see little babies, on walks in the park he’d stare into the playground.

“Spencer…do you… want to have kids…with me?” You ask so softly he subconsciously moves closer to hear you better.

He tries to pull every psychology and behavior tactic he can to read the expression on your face, to decipher what you’re truly feeling, but he comes up empty and is left to grapple with the emotions of the moment on his own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? Oh baby, no I’m not mad. Just a little surprised, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You move to stand right in front of him at arm’s length, to let him know you’re right there, that you’re always there.

“How could I not? You are so beautiful, kind, and smart. I think I’d be the luckiest dad in the galaxy if my kids turned out like you.” He says softly, grabbing your hand to thumb at the palm in a soothing manner, more to calm his nerves than yours but it’s really working both ways. You couldn’t look any softer to him than right then.

He continues, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward, but I love you, and I want a future with you. House, kids, taxes, all of it.”

You fake gasp, “Even taxes?”

“Especially taxes,” He smiles as he plays into your dramatics, “Like I said, I don’t mean right now. I know there’s like thirty steps we have to take before then. But I’m here for all of it.”

“Spence…” You tearfully smile, “I love you, and I want all of it too.”

Spencer couldn’t be more happy as he slowly leans in to kiss you, lingering so you know just how happy he is. He pulls back and peppers kisses all over your face while you giggle, “Okay, okay!”

He presses one last big kiss on your forehead, cartoonish noise and all, and he wraps you up in his arms tightly.

“So…did something happen today that made you tell me?” You ponder. Of course you’d been thinking about a future with Spencer. but you didn’t know that he felt the same way, and so seriously at that.

He mumbles into your shoulder, “You were playing with that baby in the Target checkout line. And I’m not kidding, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like carrying our child.”

You grin wickedly, “You really wanna knock me up that bad, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea the restraint I had today to not pounce on you in the middle of the store. I would have risked the life ban in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” You glide your finger down his chest, “What did you wanna do?”

Spencer smirks, seeing the game you’re playing. “Well, I was thinking about this book I read on the best positions for maximum fertility.”

“So you read porn—“

“It’s not porn!” He chuckles, “It’s a real scientific study they did in Cambridge about if different positions induce fertility due to the variances in angle of the male ejaculation, and whether it would increase the rate of fertilization. It was actually really fascinating. They had the subjects do it inside the MRI machine.”

You can’t help but feel flustered, “I can't believe that turned me on.”

“I also know that you’re ovulating right now, so all your sexual senses are heightened.”

“I know I should find that funny, but it’s actually so fucking hot that you know that.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring his head closer to your ear as you whisper, “Wanna go try them out?”

Spencer’s eyes darken and he immediately reacts, “Jump.” holding your thighs up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle a little above his head, cupping it with both hands as you lean down to kiss him while he walks to your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed with a squeal before working his shirt off, watching you slowly peel your own shirt off and shimmy out of your pants leaving you bare in a bra and panties.

He lets out a groan, “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He climbs over your body and leans down to attack your neck, one hand holding one of yours above your head the other trailing its way down. A finger traces the outline of your panties, pressing down on the wet patch near your entrance.

You moan languishly and he smirks at your reaction, “I got you, okay baby? Gonna make you feel so good.”

His finger finally slides past the fabric and makes contact with your cunt, gathering the slick and spreading it all over you. Breathless moans escape you, and by the time you’re used to one finger the fucker adds another finger and rests his thumb on your clit drawing soft circles.

The feeling of his fingers sliding so easily in and out of you is terrifyingly intoxicating, and you can’t seem to get enough. He can feel you squeezing his fingers and by your increased moans he knows you’re close, “C’mon pretty girl, you can do it.”

The little praise he gives you is enough to send you over the edge, and you’d be embarrassed at how easily it affected you if you weren’t so overcome with coming down from your peak. You slowly regain your bearing through heavy breaths and look up at him above you with hooded eyes, “Jesus, Spence.”

A wide smirk plasters on his face as he stands up from the bed, “Just getting started baby.” He makes work of his belt buckle and slides it off while you crawl over to help him with pulling his zipper down. You tug his pants down enough to expose his bulge, and you lightly palm him through his boxer.

A deep groan rumbles through his throat, his hands coming up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail as watches you slowly pull him out of boxers. He’s achingly hard, tip red and throbbing. You coo at him, “Poor thing, must’ve been painful today keeping this in, when all you wanted to do was come inside me, hm?” a strangled noise leaves him as you continue, “I know you really wanna sink your dick in me, but can I have just a little taste?”

The doe eyes you give him as you speak your lewd words has him nearly teetering over the edge and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet. He nods vigorously, not trusting words to do him good and watches himself slowly disappear down into your throat, further and further back until he hits something hard and you gag a little. He mutters a sorry that sounds like a half cry half moan, but the way his hips are subconsciously thrusting into you and the hand that’s gripping your hair guiding you so, tells you he might not actually be that sorry.

“Fu—uu—uck.” his head tilts back as the overly enunciated curse flies out of his mouth. Your head bobs with a ferocity on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Spencer thinks this is what heaven must be like, that you an angel personified have brought the pearly gates down onto the Earth and blessed him with your mouth.

You continue to take him into your throat for a few more seconds before you feel a sharp tug on your hair that wasn’t meant to hurt but might’ve felt that way with how desperate Spencer needed you off of him.

“What happened?” you ask, voice raspy and confused.

He breathes heavily, “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.” you giggle and sit up on your knees and Spencer closes the distance by reaching for your head in both hands and pulling you in for a long kiss.

“Turn around.” he whispers low, gently pushing you onto your stomach the second your back is to him. The anticipation builds as you can hear him remove the remainder of his clothing, and he climbs over you to unclip your bra and gently pull your panties over and off your legs.

He tosses them to the side and returns to looming above you while you’re splayed out on your stomach in front of him. You get on your forearms and arch your back, letting your ass and cunt be on full display for him knowing this was a position he loved. He can’t help himself but lean forward and swipe his tongue through your folds, groaning at how sweet you taste.

When he pulls off of you, you’re fully expecting his next move would be to finally be inside you. What you don’t expect, is him backing up a little and pulling your legs back towards him so you’re back to lying fully flat on the bed. Before you even have a chance to question him he’s crawling back over you and lowering his head to whisper hotly in your ear, “Have you ever tried this one?”

The long and soft whine you let out goes straight to his cock as he lines himself up at your entrance and slowly pushes in. Pushing past the folds of your cunt that wraps so perfectly around him, he’s in awe watching it enter you. You, on the other hand, are on a different planet from the feeling the new position is giving you. He’s deeper than he’s ever been in you, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, his hands pressing onto your back so hard you know there’s going to be imprints later.

The moans escaping from you are consumed by the sheets beneath you, his pace unrelenting as he holds you in place and ruts into you.

“Spence..” you whine softly.

The weight of his hands press your body further into the mattress as he leans down right next to ear and whispers hotly, “Yeah, baby?

The emotions builds in you fast and the need to kiss him becomes stronger, “Wanna see you…Need to see you.”

His hips stutter at the tone of your voice, so whiny and desperate, all for him. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, how he became the object of all your desires, how everyday you wake up and it’s him you choose repeatedly, and will continue to choose for the rest of time. You’ve always loved him, it was a fact you made sure that he knew every single day.

When he flips you over with a gentleness, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hoping that the synergy flows between your contact and you can feel it in every nerve ending, just how in love he is with you. He think you got the message as he watches you move your hand between your bodies to grab at his cock and slowly guide back inside you while you both watch him push fully into you again.

He looks down between your bodies and watches his cock move in and out of you, mesmerized by the ring of slick that reappears with every pull out. It’s nearly automatic the way his thumb reaches for your clit and moves his eyes upward to watch you completely unravel at the hands of his touch.

Your brows are furrowed together in pleasure, “Fuck…’m close.” you mutter through a whine.

His hips snap to meet yours rapidly, “Yeah? Me too…” he taps your leg to lift it onto his shoulder, deepening his angle and circling you around the throes of your release. He grunts out, “Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

You clench down on him hard with a loud moan, neither of you expecting the effect his words had on you. Spencer chuckles and bends down to press love bites into the crook of your neck before trailing back up to your ear and whispers, “Didn’t think you’d be into me talking like that…you really want everyone to know who fucks you good every night? Want them to see you walk around with our baby in your belly?”

Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, it’s a miracle you can still hear him over the incoherent, borderline babbling sounds you’re making. He doesn’t relent as his hand slides up your neck to grip your jaw to hold your head in place, “Say it, I wanna hear you say it.”

A whimper falls out of you, “I—fuck—I want y—you…”

His hips slow down their pace, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

The tiniest panic rises in you at the thought of him stopping, “No, don’t stop! Spencer, please. I want a baby, please want it all with you, please, please.” You realize in that moment you were never above begging to begin with, not when he’s between your legs offering you the world from the comfort of your sheets.

His pace quickens and groans at your pleas, leaning down closer so he’s chest to chest with you, “Oh, sweet girl,” he pants, “You’ll look so pretty carrying our kid, gonna drive me crazy watching you walk around.”

A string of moans trail out of your mouth, encompassed by the feeling of him inside you, the thoughts of your future together only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You weakly breath out, “Come inside me, please. Wanna make you a daddy.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear reach his peak and release into your cunt, rhythmic moans punctuating every thrust. Your grip on him tightens as you squeeze out every last drop of him. He feels himself become soft and gently pulls out, watching his come drip out of your hole. With a whimper he delicately picks up the excess with two fingers and enters you again, eliciting a languished whimper to match his.

“I know, I know, baby. Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you.” he mumbles, watching the white coat his fingers as they move inside you. “Can you give me one more? Just one, I promise. Look so pretty like this, I can’t help it.”

You’re about to protest, feeling the sensitivity get the better of you when the pleasure hits again, another moan escaping you clearly telling him you can take it.

It’s a softer orgasm this time, a smaller peak but still lust filled and has you panting heavily as you come down from it. Spencer finally collapses on the bed next to you, his chest also heaving.

“You okay, baby?” he mumbles after a few minutes.

Words can’t fulfill you right now and all you can offer is a nod as you lazily lull your head over to him. He nods and reluctantly gets up from the bed despite your pout with a promise to be so quick, and returns with a wet cloth, a water bottle, and a fresh set of clothes for you. You let him gingerly clean you up before he helps dress you and slips right back into place beside you with a kiss to your temple.

“I love you…so much,” he whispers while pulling you into his embrace, “I really can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You hum contentedly, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I love you too.”

A few moments pass before he speaks again, “But…you’re still—“

“Still on birth control, baby. Don’t worry.”

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[chuluoyi]

Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?

like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?

(not the) best kept secret

- fushiguro megumi x reader

cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.

genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!

notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!

general masterlist

You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.

Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.

In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.

And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.

Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.

It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.

“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”

“Shut up, Itadori.”

And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.

you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!

Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.

megumi: wanna grab lunch later?

It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.

Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.

Head pats. Texts. Lunches.

And then there was Nobara.

Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.

But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.

It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.

At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.

"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"

"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."

Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.

"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"No, Megumi, I—"

"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."

Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.

Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.

And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.

But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.

"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.

"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."

His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.

"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?

"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."

To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.

"I like you too, Megumi."

And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?

Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.

Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.

But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.

Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.

“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.

All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.

"Fushiguro! How could you?!"

When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.

You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?

"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"

"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"

"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"

"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"

Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.

But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?

He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”

Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.

And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.

Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.

His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.

He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.

And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.

Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.

Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.

Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.

“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”

It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.

When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.

“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”

No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.

“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.

Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?

But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.

“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”

You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.

“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.

“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.

Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.

“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”

“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”

You were at a loss.

You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.

But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.

"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"

"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.

Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?

Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.

"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."

He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.

You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.

He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.

"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."

"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."

And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?

He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?

"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."

"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.

"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."

"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."

He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.

At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.

"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.

"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."

You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”

And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.

[kiztae]

hi! if ur not too busy do u think u could come up with something for size kink w soobin? pls & thank you ! 💛

SIZE KINK — c.soobin

genre: afab!reader, very suggestive, brothers bestfriend!soobin, bulge kink, size kink (duh), making out, dry humping, dirty talk? that's probably it. wc: 1.8k [requested]

a/n: might be a bit short. hope you enjoy anon!

just like any other saturday, soobin came over to visit your older brother beomgyu and spend the rest of it playing games in his room. it wasn't new to find soobin in the living room, sitting in the couch and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

it was only natural, considering he almost lived there with you guys with how often he’d come by. so when you crossed his path, you didn't really mind it and conformed to uttering a soft 'hi soobin' before stepping into the kitchen.

"hi y/n" he looks up with a raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgment, shutting off his phone and standing up slightly to move towards the kitchen island. "how's today treating you?" he inquires with a playful smile as he leans over the counter with his elbows.

“it’s treating me fine, soobin. what about you?” you say between yawns while pouring yourself a glass of water.

you had just woken up a few minutes ago, whenever it was sunday you allowed yourself to sleep in as much as you’d like. which is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, wearing your small pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt you found in your brothers room, at noon.

“so far, so good. but i have to say, it’s even better now that you’re here.” he adds boldly, looking down at the marble and then back up at you.

you could see his eyes glimmer mischievously as he ended his sentence, the two orbs dropping lower and trailing down your exposed collarbones, your chest that was exposing just about enough cleavage to help his imagination, and finally, your hands. everything about you looked so dainty and small, soobin couldn’t help but think about how adorable and weirdly hot he found it.

hell, he knew it was wrong to think about his best friend's little sister under this lewd light but it was just so hard not to.

“you really have a way with words don’t you? save them for the girls on your campus.” you grin in response, emptying the glass of cold water in your mouth and feeling the new energy flowing through your body.

if you had to be honest, it’s not like you hadn’t thought about soobin like that before. you were aware of how attractive he was and especially how close to your ideal type he proved to be. soobin was tall, handsome and a literal giant in proportions but also adorable and cute at times.

nevertheless, you pushed those thoughts away quickly whenever you remembered who he was to you. he was your brother’s best friend, he was older than you, he had many other things he could care about other than you… so why bother?

sure, it wouldn't be awful to have some fun with him, especially after not having any form of sexual activity in the past months (not even a kiss), but you were sure it was all not going to happen anyway. so, you tried your best to stay unfazed by his comments and approaches, figuring he was just teasing you.

“i’m not sweet talking you y/n. i’m—“ before he could continue, beomgyu walked into the room with a loud “you can use the shower now!”, signaling that you could start your morning routine and that he could get back to hanging out with his best friend.

“what are you doing here? you could’ve waited in my room man.” he says with an awkward laugh as he taps his friend’s back.

“well, see you around.” you bid your goodbye and go off to continue with your day, not bothering to finish the earlier conversation.

-

why was getting up suddenly so hard? some sort of heavy weight was placed on top of you, not letting you move up or even around in the room of your mattress. this was not like any other sunday morning. were you still dreaming? after squirming in place for a little more you opened your eyes slowly and looked around despite the hazy vision of your only recent wake up call.

moving around (if you could even call it that) helped you figure out two things: 1. whatever it was that was stopping you was laying half on top of you and pressing your side 2. it was breathing. as soon as you realized the second, you started kicking your feet up and turning around in a hurry like crazy.

"woah—! what the—!" the lump under the other blanket started to blurt out in panic, until it moved up and revealed itself. that's when you were met with a confused soobin with the biggest case of bed hair you've seen.

before you could process it, he swiftly took your wrists into his hands and pushed them against the mattress effortlessly, shifting completely on top of you to keep your legs caged between both of his on your sides with ease. finally, if he got kicked once more he was sure he would get bruises.

"hey—!" you shout against his defense before his right palm comes up to cover your mouth clumsily. it was ridiculous how much of your face his hand covered then, all of your jaw and part of your neck being hidden behind it.

"shhh. don't you realize it's super early in the morning?" he whisper-shouts back, frowning and staring into your eyes, finally.

you relaxed and twisted your head around to take in the room, noticing that it was indeed still dark and that the sunset hadn't even happened yet. once you took it in, you took in the sight of soobin, at last. he was breathing loudly, his hair messy, his shirt hanging low on his chest and his eyes waving around as he looked into yours.

"why are you in my bed?" you murmur with a confused frown once he removed his hand, your breathing starting to speed up when you realize the position you're in right now. god, you hoped he was still sleepy enough to not notice the pink blooming in your cheeks.

"i— i don't know. i thought i went into beomgyu's room after i woke up to drink some water... but i guess not." he trails off, his eyes dipping lower from your eyes to your neck, your disheveled hair, your shirt that bunched up and exposed your waist, until he came back up to stare at your mouth for longer.

"i guess not..." you imitate quietly when your gaze also lays on his pouty lips and then back to his eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n" he states in a more deep voice, his tone sounding hushed as he leaned in closer to you, the hand holding your wrist pushing further up and the other dipping the mattress on your side.

"huh? for what?" you mutter out in surprisement at the sudden apology, your voice breaking softly once you feel him get closer.

"for not holding myself back." he whispers back, his hand interlacing with yours and pinning it deeper into the sheets as he catches your breath in a swift kiss. the action earned a small gasp from you, your form stiffening under his hold briefly, unsure of what was happening, until you sighed into his mouth and leaned in.

he softly groaned in satisfaction once he felt you relax and open your mouth more for him, granting him permission to kiss you deeper. "i'm such a shit best friend aren't i? i just couldn't hold it in anymore." he comments as he leaves your lips for a second, the loss of contact already making you disappointed.

but he doesn't stop. his free hand grazes your side softly and grasps your waist roughly, another gasp coming from you that's quickly swallowed by soobin's lips on yours. his kisses are desperate, hungry even. it's like he doesn't want to waste a single second when he's kissing you.

his tongue dips into your bottom lip and then brushes against yours, the wet sound of it starting to get more noticeable as his mouth melts with yours. you weren't sure you expected soobin to get messy like this, saliva mixing with yours, kisses sloppy and needy, you were loving it.

soobin was heavy on top of you, he was making sure he didn't lay his whole body weight, knowing for sure he would crush you, but he was letting himself press against you just enough for you to be trapped below him. if he wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to you, easily. he could make you his personal ragdoll, move you around however he wanted, take you however he wanted.

as his mouth detached from yours to dip lower and start biting and nipping at your neck, the hand on your waist trailed up and stopped right before your breast. "can i? please.." he says in a hushed voice as he licks a small stripe on the bites he left, his breathing ragged already. following your nod he takes your breast in his hand, his grasp being enough to cover it whole. once he gets permission his hands start roaming around your body more and more, grabbing whatever he can. his palms kneading your ass, then playing with your nipples, grasping your hip tightly as he groans into your mouth between kisses.

"you're so small— i could break you if i'm too rough, couldn't i?" he purrs into your ear, biting your earlobe gently and grinning. he didn't know what got into him but seeing you so weak and helpless in his hold was driving him crazy, he never knew he was so big until now.

"you're just— too big." the whiny tone in your voice as you replied was what did it for him. how could you say that to him and expect him not to go insane?

"fuck, don't do that to me." he blurts out as he lets his head fall on your chest, his hands tightening around your hips. "i won't be able to stop." he warns before his fingers dig into your sides and he pushes himself against you, his giant bulge rubbing on your underwear harshly.

"oh my god— soobin, you're huge" you moan out as the shocks of pleasure hit you, your hips instantly jolting forwards to meet his. at this, he starts thrusting his hips harder and faster against you, rocking the bed carelessly.

"yeah? bet that if i fucked you, you'd have a bulge right here. wouldn't you baby?" he questions while rubbing your tummy right above where his dick was pushing into you. "i'd fuck you so deep, you'd feel it in your stomach." he adds with a smirk, looking right into your eyes as if to taunt you. he never once stopped rocking his hips against you, the tip of his cock starting to leak through his boxers and onto your panties, hitting you right with each thrust.

"then do it." you plead in between whines, taking his cheek in your hand and staring into his eyes desperately. "fuck me until you break me."

-

© kiztae, 2023

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

hiiii, omg i would absolutely adore more of vampire rhysand fics, especially from that universe you created with them all vampires, will there be more? maybe when reader is turned, she can finally take both azriel and rhysand👀👀👀 or maybe to explore rhysand's relationship with her maybe nesta or someone from her family sneak in to the ball to steal reader back but rhysand is like nu uh tf

those are just some of the ideas that popped into my head, i love your writing and your smut💖

You must be psychic because I had literally just opened up a Word Document to try and write another Vamp!Rhys fic but couldn't figure out where to start!

I've got some ideas, and was thinking about doing some Monster Themed Fics for Spooky Season (More Vamp!Rhys + Bat Boys, maybe a Werewolf or Demon AU) if I can get my thoughts in order enough. Until then, pls enjoy a possessive!vamp!Rhys ;)

----------------

Mine

Content Warnings: Slight SMUT, Possessive!Rhys, Blood and Gore

---------

“I’m bored,” Rhysand says by way of greeting, as he throws his lythe body onto the chase across from where you sit, curled up in a reading chair in the library.

 The sun sets behind you, the golden rays peeking in through the blackout curtains that usually remain closed during the day. Most of the horde sleeps through the day, meaning, if you let your body’s natural rhythm guide you, you have the entire manor to yourself. And of course, you use most of that time to peruse the thousand year old vampire’s massive collection of books. There’s so many organized on the floor to ceiling shelves you’re not even sure you’re promised immortality will give you enough time to read all of them--that doesn’t stop you from trying, however.

The vampire lord remains in the shadows of the library, the crack of sunlight just far enough away to not burn his otherwise unbreakable skin. Sometimes you think it’s a shame he can only go out at night, while it’s true he looks his best under moonlight, the golden hue of the fading sun makes his bronze skin glow like a god. You’re tempted to set down the book in your hands and climb into his lap, unbutton the already half open shirt and run your tongue over every golden inch of him. Time has not dulled the need you feel for him, even after all these months, he’s still as tempting as he was the first time you laid eyes on him. 

“There are a number of things you can do in this manor,” you say, ignoring your instincts and going back to the fantasy romance you’ve been devouring for the last hour. In truth, the smut on the page before you might also play into why your mouth is practically watering at the sight of him. You’re right at the good part, and your mind is torn between finishing the chapter and indulging your own fantasies with the very real, and very eager, vampire before you.

“Not entertaining enough,” he whines. 

Your eyes still on the page as you try and think of something to offer him. He hasn’t been able to throw another ball in nearly a month, not after a group of vampire hunters had come rolling into town. Their presence had been tiresome and even Azriel, for all his talents had not been able to figure out who’d tipped them off and brought them around. Rhys had initiated an indoor ban on the whole horde just to keep everybody safe. That meant for the most part, everyone had been living off of sheep’s blood and well, you. Mostly the sheep’s blood though. Rhys had threatened to keep you locked in his room, for only his enjoyment if Azriel didn’t stop leaving so many bite marks in your thighs--his favorite place to feed from you apparently. There were more than enough bite marks across your throat to give the others pause before they tried to drink from you these days. And it hadn’t helped that Cass had snuck out and nearly been caught, drinking from a barmaid in an alley three nights ago. Everyone was on edge. 

You glance up at him over the top of the worn pages in your hands. He keeps an arm thrown over his eyes, as if, even the little bit of sunlight filtering passed is enough to hurt him. Aside from that, he lays with one long leg tossed over the back of the couch, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned, the swirl of ink across his chest on full display. His dark hair is tousled, falling messily over his forehead. He had to have come directly here from his bedroom.

You look back down at the paragraph you were reading, the spicy scene practically leaping off the page at you, then back up to him as you bite your lower lip in thought. It’s usually him that initiates your interactions, him that dictates how and where  you take him. You don’t mind. Truth be told, you love being able to let go of everything and let him dominate you in whatever way he sees fit. It is the height of your pleasure, knowing he could so easily break you, and yet he doesn’t. You think meeting him might actually have put some pieces of your soul back together, rather than shatter them further and you love him all the more for it. And now, in that freedom, you can’t help but wonder if there are still other things to explore?

“We could play a game?” You suggest, voice softer than you mean it to be. Neither of you have ever talked about switching things up. Why mess with a good thing, right? But he’s here, asking, and the idea is literally in your hands as you speak, like fate prompting you to try something new and exciting. It can’t hurt to ask, right? He’s never denied you anything before.

Rhys spreads two fingers over his face, so you catch a glimpse of one, gleaming, violet eye. A grin spreads across his handsome features, fangs glinting in the scarce few rays of sunlight left. There will be nothing but starlight here soon, the plain of existence made solely for him. The others may live in the dark, but it is Rhys who thrives in it. “I’m listening.”

You draw a shaky breath. It’s just a question. No harm can come from a question. But how exactly do you suggest… this? You glance down at the pages again, trying to see if they even gave it a name for you to offer him, but there’s nothing but the promise of pleasure blurring across the pages.

Gathering your courage, you unfurl your legs from beneath you and cross the distance so you can climb onto his lap. Those thighs might have been made just for you, muscle shifting to let you get comfortable as his hands settle on your hips. He sighs contentedly, like this is something he’s been missing as you settle your weight against him.

“I was reading this book and these characters are…” you scrunch your face, trying to explain without sounding crass and failing. A blush works its way up your cheeks as you shove the open book into his hands. “Maybe you should just read it.”

He takes his time, tongue slipping out to wet his full lips as he reads. You count every breath he takes in the silence, watching his face with rapt attention to try and gauge what he’s thinking about it. He’s a master of schooled expressions, always collected and together, but after all these months, you like to think you know his tells. Yet, as he reads, there is no gleam in his eye, no obvious indication of arousal from where you sit over his hips. There is nothing but careful calculation as he reads--and maybe rereads, judging by the time it takes him--the pages.

Finally he closes the book and sets it down on the floor. “You’re suggesting we do that?” 

It’s hard to identify if that is amusement or irritation in his voice and you find your heartbeat quickening regardless of which it is. “I-if you want.”

“That’s not what I asked, Little One,” he tuts, hands resuming their rightful place on your hips. His thumbs stroke gentle circles into your skin, a move that can turn either teasing or cruel at a moment's notice. 

“I don’t know, you said you were bored. I thought maybe, you know, since we haven’t had a ball in awhile you might want to…” the word sticks in your throat and you swallow as the intensity of his gaze pins you in place. “You know… hunt.”

His eyes light up at the word. “And you want me to hunt you?”

Your thighs clench involuntarily at the thought, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed in the slightest. He grins wolfishly, gaze pinned to where your hips rest over his. He could have you right here, like this and he knows it. All it would take is a couple rocking motions of his hips, a slide of his fingertips beneath the thin silk of your top, teasing up bare skin until he can play with your breasts and you’d surrender. He could drink his fill and take you just as you are, right here and now. But there’s no challenge in it, no fun to be had, and he wants you to tell him you want it. Want him like that.

You’d be a liar if you said you’d never thought about what he would feel like if he let loose his control and showed you just how much a monster he was capable of being. You knew that even if he lost his usual composure, he would never hurt you. Even his basest instincts would balk at the thought of causing you pain. If you said you wanted it, he would make sure that you enjoyed every minute of it.

“Yes,” you say softly.

He sits up, swinging his legs onto the floor, moving you with him. His hands slide over your hips to your ass, squeezing playfully as you squeal in surprise over the sudden shift in position. “What are the rules to this game then?”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest. You’re actually going to do this.

“I want a ten minute head start,” you say slowly, mind spinning. 

He hums as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Done. What else?”

“No going past the gardens.” There is enough yard between the manor and the perimeter walls that you could still feel like you were outside without risking an encounter with a hunter. 

“Agreed,” he kisses the opposite corner of your mouth.

“If you catch me-”

“When I catch you,” he says, lips pressing to my chin.

“If you catch me before the end of the hour,” that gives him a total of thirty minutes before the clock chimes, “then…” It’s not like you’ve never talked dirty before, but still, your cheeks are a deep set of red as you say, “then I am yours to do with what you wish.”

His eyes gleam, fangs glinting as he leans back and grins like he’s already won. “And if I say I want to be so deep inside you that every sorry hunter for miles will know your mine regardless of where I find you?”

You clench your thighs again, or attempt to, this new position in his lap doesn’t give you a lot of room to do so. “If you can find me.”

He slides you effortlessly off his lap, but you find, given the nature of the way he’s looking at you, that your legs feel weak already. “You should get going. You’ve only got ten minutes, Darling.”

You waste precious time leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, but you don’t care. Every kiss, every touch is worth the lost time. He is a promise of endless time, of boundless freedom and new adventures, time is never wasted with Rhys.

He pulls away with some difficulty. “I’m still counting,” he warns.

You grin as you turn and sprint out the library, leaving the doors wide open as you run. It occurs to you now that you’ve never actually seen him hunt outside a ballroom. There’s a lot of strategy to those hunts, as you’ve observed, but he’s never had to chase anything. He’s like a spider, waiting patiently for his prey to get caught and stuck in his web for him to devour. You don’t actually know how fast or strong he is. He certainly has a heightened sense of smell, but how heightened?

You know you want to make it outside, just to let him feel like he’s getting out of the house, but going straight out the back door would be too easy. You run up the stairs to the second floor instead, then into one of the many empty rooms and unlatch the window. This might waste more of your precious time, but still, you’re curious to know if he’ll save time and run right out the door, or if he can actually follow your scent. 

Carefully, you climb onto the roof and pick your way across the slanting tiles, until you reach the side of the manor where tree branches reach for you. The gardens outside the estate are massive, their own little forest, and with the gates closed, the gardeners haven’t been around to trim the trees. Branches that would normally be clipped to keep the leaves from collecting on the roof have been allowed to blossom and you find a sturdy one and nimbly walk across it like a balance beam. He may be the expert hunter here, but you spent years outside the Spring Estate, back when your parents were still alive, exploring the massive gardens and climbing the trees. Until your Governess had dragged you back by the ear, yelling about your ripped skirts and scraped knees. Hardly the lifestyle of a lady, they’d said. You couldn’t care less now as you climb, hand over hand through the dense leaves, moving from tree to tree. This is familiar yet different, you are far more free here than you had ever been back home.

Anticipation sits hot and heavy in your lower belly as you move. It’s hard to tell how much time you have left and you need to decide if the plan is to just keep moving or to hunker down and hide in wait. 

When the trees start to thin, you finally clamber down onto the damp floor below and take a good look around. There are certainly plenty of bushes to hide under, but that feels… boring. 

You glance over your shoulder, the trees blocking out the moonlight that has now replaced the earlier sun. Shadows cling to the trees providing ample cover, for both you and the predator you know is coming. 

You bite your lip. You want it to be a challenge. So you keep moving, ears straining for any little sound that might indicate your ten minutes is up. Every rustle of leaves makes a shiver run up your spine, heart thundering beneath your ribs. It’s a heady sort of rush that makes you laugh as you break into a full on sprint, wind tearing at your loose hair. 

This is freedom. Unbridled and unrestrained, there are no limits on what you can do or want, and right now, you want exactly what he promised you.

You slow to catch your breath, the trees thinning as you come closer to the hedge maze on the far side of the property. There’s usually a whole slew of string lights bobbing overhead, so partygoers can see past the towering hedges full of roses and attempt to find the bubbling water fountain at the center of the maze. It’s a showstopper when lit, but right now, it is dark and unyielding and you inch your way towards it with more than a little trepidation. It would be a good place to make him walk through to get to you, but some of the hedges are so thick and overgrown it blocks out the light, and you do not have the night vision of vampires, not yet.

A twig snaps behind you and you jump with a hand clamped over your mouth to keep from screaming as you turn to face the noise. There’s enough moonlight to see by out here, but there is no familiar shape stalking towards you. There’s nothing there at all but the trees and the maze at your back.

You give yourself a little shake to calm your nerves as you inch backwards towards the opening of the maze, still anticipating Rhys’s sudden arrival. One step back, then another, until you can almost feel the shadow of the hedges against your back. It’s a degree colder within it than outside of it.

The first bit of darkness covers your entrance.

And it covered the hiding place too, because you hadn’t seen anyone or anything within the maze until a firm hand clamps over your mouth. Surprise makes you scream, the noise muffled beneath the weathered palm as a strong arm wraps around your waist. 

How the hell had he gotten behind you?!

Hot breath fans your ear as he puts his lips to your ear. “Scream, and you’re dead.”

That’s not Rhys’s voice at all!

Panic grips you and you have just enough presence of mind to fight, digging your elbow into the stranger’s soft gut, throwing your head back into his shoulder. You twist and claw and bite down on the hand covering your mouth so hard you taste blood.

“You little bitch!” The stranger snarls, his hand slipping off your mouth.

You don’t have time to spit out the blood as you scream, “RHYS!!!” As loud as you can.

The stranger grabs your hair and spins you, face scraping over a cluster of thorny roses that cuts open your cheek as you fight to keep your footing. You stumble, but before you can hit the ground, another rough set of hands grabs your arm and yanks, pulling you deeper into the darkness of the maze. 

“Get off me!” You shout, your game forgotten. There is nothing but wild panic in your blood as you claw and punch at the hands that pull you deeper and deeper into the maze. 

Rhys can find you in here, right? He knows this isn’t part of the game?

Blood trickles down the wound in your cheek, following a trail down your neck and chest as your head whips around to try and get a good look at your attacker. He’s not much taller than you, but he’s twice as large, his arms made of thick, corded muscle. A spiderweb of scars travels up the bare expanse of his right arm, but he has no other defining features you can see in the darkness.

The second remains in the dark as they drag you through the maze. They must have been here awhile, if they know their way through it. In no time at all, you find yourself at the maze’s heart, the fountain that’s usually so dazzling at parties remains full of stagnant water and dead leaves. Sitting on the lip of it are another two men, one carrying a sword and another wearing a bandolier full of wooden stakes. Hunters.

Your mouth dries, heart skipping a beat. No no no! This can’t be happening! How’d they get past the gate? Rhys had it made by some local witches, it was supposed to be spelled to keep hunters out!

“Y/N?”

The world narrows in to the sound of that voice, as the body attached rounds the fountain. The sliver of moonlight cuts through the overgrown shrubs, highlighting the swatch of blonde hair, carefully tied back from a face that looks so similar to your own. 

Though you have no fangs of your own, you pull your lips back in a snarl as Tamlin draws nearer. “You did this?” You hiss at your brother.

He looks older, tired. Emerald eyes framed by dark circles. It’s been months since you’ve seen him. Months since he sent someone to tell you not to bother coming home since you’d ruined yourself with Rhys. Based on the stories you’d heard, he’d trashed the manor in a fit of rage when he’d found out he could no longer auction you off like a mare to be wed and bred by some stuffy, old baron or count.

He takes you in, nose crinkling as he spots the hickeys littering your throat. You’re not wearing anything more than a pair of lounge shorts and a silk top, an outfit that had felt appropriate a moment ago but now, based on the judgment and leering of the hunters, feels poorly out of place.

It’s an effort not to try and cover yourself, to stand there, blood still dripping from your cheek and keep your chin up.

“Where is he?” Tamlin demands. 

Shit. Shit. Shit! Of course he’s not here for you, he’d made it clear you were as wanted as a wadded up gum wrapper. He--they--are all here for Rhys. 

“Who?” You play dumb, trying to buy time. Rhys is walking right into a trap and if you don’t think of something quick…

“Don’t play dumb!” Tamlin snarls. “I know you’ve been whoring yourself out to that blood sucker!”

He can’t know that Rhys is the town’s vampire, there’s no way. Every person that leaves the manor is compelled to forget everything they saw. The whole horde is meticulous, Az has even followed people home to ensure the protection of the den. 

When you don’t respond, he says, a little gentler this time, “Tell me where he is, Y/N, and I will consider this whole mess a compulsion on his part and not hold it against you. We’ll go home and find somewhere safe for you to live. There’s a temple that will take in ruined women…”

You’re seeing red. “Nobody fucking ruined me! It is my body! What I do with it is none of your business!”

He frowns. “Nesta thought you might have been compelled, I didn’t want to believe that you were so weak minded that it could happen to you, but now that I see you…”

Nesta. Your stomach twists itself into knots. She was supposed to be your best friend, and yet she had gone to Tamlin and he’d called the hunters. She must have seen Rhys drinking from you that first night after all. In her rush, she’d pissed off Cass, who had been so distracted with her leaving he’d distracted Az from following her home. She’d gotten out of the den knowing what they all were and Tamlin had spent all this time summoning these hunters. 

The betrayal stings worse than the cut on your cheek, your eyes burning despite your attempts to keep it all bottled up. You can’t cry here! Not in front of them. The four hunters hover near the exits, blocking your escape, but keeping watch for Rhys all the same. They all have stakes. They’re all clearly fighting men, all capable of taking on an unsuspecting vampire. 

“Don’t do this, Tam,” you whisper. If anything happens to Rhys… If they get their hands on him because you suggested going outside the manor, you’re never going to forgive yourself.

“You forced my hand!” Tamlin snarls, advancing a step towards you. “You went and made a mess of things as always! If mom were still alive she would have keeled over and had a heart attack from the strain of having you for a daughter.”

The words hit like a slap. He’d always been good at that; when he couldn’t use his size and strength, his words were just as sharp as a blade, and he’d used them to keep you in line for years. Even now, the freedom you had so desperately craved feels like it’s slipping through your fingers. You feel your shoulders hunch, chin dipping towards your chest. He’s always been so terribly good at making you feel small and useless and so terribly unwanted. Even now, your own flesh and blood isn’t here to make sure you’re alright, he’s here to prove himself a hero by killing a vampire. Your vampire.

Figures, as soon as you’d found something to love, Tamlin found another way to rip it from you.

Seeing a weakness, Tamlin stalks towards you, his footfalls heavy in the damp earth. He reaches out a hand to grab you, but before he can so much as brush a fingertip over your arm, his body flies backwards like it’s been tossed by an invisible hand. He hits the statue guarding the water fountain so hard the old angel’s head falls from it’s stone shoulders. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Rhys snarls so loud the ground shakes. He’d come in silently, stealthy as a cat. The power that radiates off him is nothing like the demure courtier you see in the ballroom, there is nothing subtle or charming about this Rhys. There is only cold, unyielding rage as he moves around you faster than your eyes can track. You don’t even have time to warn him about what the hunters are armed with before he uses his teeth to rip the throat out of the first man. Blood splatters across his face as the hunter falls. Another blink at the second falls, his heart still beating from where Rhys holds it in his fist.

The third hunter has just enough time to slide a stake out of its sheath and lunge, but Rhys is so much faster and stronger, there is no contest. He snags the hunter’s wrist, snapping the bone so hard his wrist twists backwards, the stake now aimed at the hunter’s heart. His own momentum keeps him moving forward, even as he screams in terror, and he impales himself on his own stake. Rhys hurls the body into the thorny hedges, leaving it to bleed out as he turns to face the fourth and final hunter. 

It's the one that had grabbed you initially, his thin lips pulled back in a sneer as he flips two stakes around in his large hands. 

“You think you can waltz into my domain,” Rhys seethes. There’s an eerie calm to his steps now, blood dripping from his fingers, splattering the trampled grass. “And try and take what is mine?”

Rationally, you know you should be terrified of him like this--this is who he really is, not the courtly mask and disarming smiles you know, this is a full-fledged vampire in all his glory--but you’re not. Not even a little bit. If anything, the sight of him makes you feel like you can breathe again. 

“I’ve killed worse things than you,” the hunter spits. “You won’t even be a challenge.”

Rhys cocks his head like he’s thinking, a grin spreading across his face. His fangs are longer than you’ve ever seen them, poking into his lower lip, where the first hunter’s blood still lingers. “Is that so?”

He takes a small step forward, and though the hunter’s fingers twitch around the stakes, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. He stands still as a statue, his chest barely rising and falling. Almost like he can’t move at all.

Rhys reaches out and plucks the stakes from the hunter’s hands like he’s taking a toy from a belligerent child. The hunter doesn’t move; doesn’t speak in his own defense. 

Rhys lifts the stake to get a better look at it in the moonlight. “These are poorly made,” he tuts, right before he jams it between the hunter’s eyes. The man falls, still completely immobile.

“You’re a fucking monster,” Tamlin hisses from where he’s still struggling to get back to his feet. 

Rhys slides the hand not dripping blood into his pocket, appearing bored as he puts a boot on Tamlin’s shoulder and pushes him back down into the mud. “Humans are so very dull.”

“Yet you keep my sister like a fucking pet!” Tamlin snarls, trying to rise again and losing the battle as Rhys’s heel pushes down against his shoulder until the bone snaps. “You compelled her into being with you and have been keeping her here against her will.”

You stare at the two of them. Rhys is holding back now, toying with Tamlin--the brother that had locked you up, had insisted your Governess cut your meals in half to keep you thin and desirable for a suitor; the brother who had ignored your wishes your whole life and had stolen almost every bit of happiness you had tried to carve out for yourself. Only one of them is the monster here.

“Nobody compelled me into staying,” you hiss. “Nobody compelled me into doing anything! I chose it.”

Tamlin tilts his head to look at you, despite the pain flashing across his face. “He just used his powers to freeze a man in place, you’re too stupid to know if he used them on you.”

Rhys moves his boot from Tamlin’s shoulder to his wrist, heel crushing down until the bone splinters, the resounding crack echoing through the maze. “Try that again,” he dares. 

Tamlin’s howls of pain have somehow not drawn everybody else outside, but you are relieved to see it. As much as you want him out of your life forever, you’re not up for watching them all devour him like a turkey at a Sunday roast. 

You pick your way around the mess of bodies until you can grab Rhys’s hand, the blood now cold and sticky over his palm. You do not balk from it. This is still your Rhys. He is still what you would choose, if you could go back to that first night on the dancefloor. Bargain or no bargain, you would have come back time and time again, to be with him and this family you have made for yourself here. This is the life you want, messy and full of monsters.

Rhys glances down at your joined hands, yours so small and delicate against the mess of his own.

You intertwine your fingers. “Please don’t kill him.”

He reaches out with his free hand to run a thumb over your ruined cheek, checking how deep the cuts are. “Why not?”

“Can he be compelled to forget about all of us? Can you make it so that we never existed?”

“Y/N!” Tamlin screams. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I could,” Rhys admits. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to be with you,” you say confidently. “As a human or a vampire.”

Tamlin tries to move out from under Rhys’s boot but gets nowhere.

“I want him to no longer have control of my life. I want to be free to choose where I go and who comes with me. I am angry at him. I’ve been angry at him my whole life. But… but I don’t want him dead.”

Rhys nods, then brushes a tender kiss over your forehead. “It’ll be done then.”

Azriel appears from the shadows then, as if he’d been hovering somewhere in the maze just in case. That intense hazel gaze sweeps over you, taking stock of your injuries before he hauls Tamlin to his feet. 

Your brother still tries to fight it, but his right arm hangs limp and twisted at his side, and even if he was whole, he’s no match for either of them. 

Rhys takes Tamlin’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, holding him in place with just those two fingers alone. “Any last words, Darling?”

You flash your middle finger at Tamlin, “If you come back through these gates, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“Vicious,” Azriel praises, tongue running over his lower lip in appreciation to this new side of you. 

Rhys keeps his attention pinned to Tamlin. “You’ll return home. You’ll forget this vampire business. You went out and got drunk and got your ass handed to you by the barmaid.”

Azriel snickers at that. 

You’ve seen that barmaid, she very well could hand Tamlin his ass, the story will be convincing. 

“If anyone asks about your sister, you’ll tell them she ran away to be with the people that love her. There is no need to look for her. She is happy.”

And you are. Your chest warms at the words. You are happy here. You will always be happy here, with this new family you’ve found. 

Tamlin repeats the words in monotone, like they’re being forced out of his head.

“You’ll have to find and compel Nesta too,” you say softly. “She saw us that first night.”

“Leave it to Cass to put us in this mess,” Azriel grumbles. “I should make him compel her for the trouble.”

“He’d just turn her for shits and giggles and then we’d be in bigger trouble,” Rhys responds as he releases his grip on Tamlin. Your brother’s head sags to his chest, unconscious, and Azriel drags him out through the back gate.

“It’s done?” You ask, watching them leave.

“It’s done,” Rhys confirms. 

You turn to face him again and stretch up on your toes to kiss him gently on the lips, despite the blood. “Thank you.”

When you try to pull away, he slides a hand into your hair and pulls you back for another, ravenous kiss. “Are you all right?”

“A little shaken,” you confess, reaching up a hand to brush a tendril of dark hair off his head. “But alright. Are you?”

He slides his arms beneath you and picks you up like you weigh nothing. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll feel better.” 

In no time at all, you’re back safe inside the house, perched on top of the counter in the bathroom attached to his room. Candlelight flickers to give him a better view of the gash across your cheek, now forming a bruise beneath the split skin. 

“It doesn’t hurt too bad,” you assure. “Just stings a little.”

He frowns as he pokes at it, then brings his wrist up to his mouth and sinks his fangs into a vein. “Drink,” he orders, bringing it to your lips. “My blood will heal you.”

You stare at him for a moment. It has become an easy thing to accept that he likes to drink from you. He needs blood to live and you want him to keep on living, it is an easy exchange--and one that always ends pleasurably for you at that--but this is different. It’s not necessity. He’s offering because he wants to. Because he cares about you.

“Please,” he says gently, pushing his wrist a little closer. “Let me take care of you.”

You wrap your hand around his arm as you bring his wrist to your mouth, unsure of how to go about this. He holds you steady, pressing his wrist to your lips, guiding you through it like he has everything this far. His blood is a coppery tang in your mouth as you run your tongue over the two puncture marks in his wrist and swallow it down. 

By the time he pulls away, the stinging in your cheek has subsided. 

“It’ll taste better once you're one of us,” he explains as he grabs a towel and cleans the remaining blood off your skin.

You watch the slow pace in which he moves now, all that rage and strength once again contained within the confines of courtly manners, but there is a stiffness to those usually graceful motions. You can almost taste the unease coming off him as he uses the same towel to clean the blood off his own face and hands.

“You’re not changing your mind about turning me after this mess, are you?” 

He tosses the towel in the hamper near the door and comes to stand between your legs. You have to tilt your head back to look at him as he cups your face in his large hands. “Never.” The finality in his tone leaves no room for doubt. “I never wish to be parted from you again.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. This bargain between you is fun and exciting, and truth be told you are more fond of him than you’d ever dare say out loud, but you had always assumed those budding feelings were one sided. This was a game and a bargain at the end of the day, what was one human in the span of eternity to a thousand year old vampire? Daring to believe that you meant more to him was not a luxury you had let yourself indulge in.

“And I thought…” he shakes his head and kisses you gently at first, grounding himself in the reality that you are safe and in his arms, but it turns rough and desperate as he considers what he’s saying. “I thought I might lose you.”

You run your fingers through the silky strands of his hair, knocking a few loose leaves that had gotten caught when he’d come running after you. 

“If anything were to happen to you, I don’t…” he shutters as he slides his hands beneath you and lifts you off the counter, carrying you towards his large bed with ease despite the shakiness of his breathing.

 “I’ve killed thousands of hunters. I have drained entire covens of witches and packs of werewolves.” He lays you down in the center of the black silk sheets, body propped up against a dozen pillows someone who is undead doesn’t really need, his large frame kneeling over yours as he kisses you again. “I have fought and won hundreds of battles and taken down an army of other vampires. Bloodshed is in my nature. It is woven into the lifeblood of creatures like me. I am used to the killing, but I have never enjoyed it. I avoid it if I can, but tonight, when I saw those hunters around you…”

He steals another kiss, tongue sliding behind your teeth to try and claim your very breath as his weight settles between your legs. “I wanted to take my time. I wanted to make them pay for putting their hands on you. I enjoyed making them suffer. And I’d do it again.”

Perhaps the long lasting effects of being locked up has altered your brain chemistry, because such outright aggression should be a warning sign to run, but it makes heat flare in your chest instead. This is a dangerous amount of possessiveness and yet, you enjoy it. It is nice to be looked after so deeply.

“And I know that I should turn you,” he continues. “You have more than fulfilled your part of the bargain and after seeing those hunters today, I should give you an edge over them, just in case, but…” Another kiss, his hands slipping beneath your top to skim your sides. “But to turn you I have to… You have to die to become a vampire. How am I supposed to do that, knowing that it’ll hurt, even for a moment? Knowing that I will have to be the one to do it?”

Your fingers drift to the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping them open so you can touch him. “It doesn’t have to be today. We never set a time.”

“I saw that scratch on you and almost went out of my mind,” he says as he leans back enough to let you push the shirt off his shoulders, but as soon as the article is off he’s right back on top of you again, kissing you like he won’t ever get enough. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I have never loved a human before. I have never been so conflicted before. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I’m just not ready to turn you yet either.”

Your hands skim up his tattooed torso, tracing every curve of ink up his chest and shoulders until you can cup his cheek. “You’re not going to lose me. Like I said, I choose you. I want to be here with you. Like this or otherwise. I am in no rush.”

He tilts his head and kisses your palm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you assure, using your free hand to grab him behind the neck and pull him down for another kiss. “I trust you. When the time is right to turn me, we’ll know. It’ll feel right.”

His lips pull away from yours just long enough to catch your breath before he starts trailing kisses along your jaw and neck. You let yourself relax beneath his ministrations, eyes drifting shut. It no longer feels strange that this has become the place you feel safest; this is right.  

“I love you,” you say softly.

He all but purrs into your throat, the kiss he was placing there more forceful than the last. “Careful, that’s a dangerous thing to say to an immortal.”

“You said it first,” you counter, hands sliding off him to reach for the hem of your shirt. You want it off, no clothes between your bodies, the warmth of him like this seeping into your skin. There is no telling how different it’ll feel once you’re no longer human, you want to relish every experience you have while you still have it.

He nips teasingly at your throat, fangs just barely scraping your skin. Not enough to feed, but just enough to remind you they’re there. “What power you wield over me, Little Human.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” you reply.

He laughs at that, the sound rich and deep, and you think you might do just about anything to hear it again and again. “Be careful how you wield it, I would do anything you asked.”

“Anything?” You ask with a grin, a few things coming to mind. 

He nips at your throat hard enough to leave a bruise this time. “No questions asked.”

“So if I have other scenes in my books I want to try out…” 

“What a dirty little mind you have,” he tuts. “And when we didn’t even get to finish the first one.”

“That really is a shame,” you muse. “I was looking forward to it too.”

“Another night then,” he promises, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. “Tonight I want to take my time with you.”

And how can you say no to those kinds of promises?

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

This Is Where You Stand With Me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: none

A/N: pls read this for better understanding thanksss!!

Sooo once upon a time, a few months ago actually, I started writing a Charles fanfic - never finished it - I had a reeeally good story in mind, wrote around 20 chapters and then I just got bored of it, BUT! I wrote some really good pieces that I'd be sorry no one ever read so I thought I'd post them. Actually I've already posted one part of the story that comes waay later than the ones I'm gonna post now, but anyway it's the one called Lovers .

Basically, it's a story about a girl (you) who broke up with her boyfriend of five years. She was very unhappy in the relationship because her boyfriend didn't treat her right all those years and then after she gathered her strength and broke up with him, she decided to live a little and go visit her best friend Sophie in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him.

Ok, hope you'll like it, let me know if you'd even like to read more parts! Bye!

This is the part where you, Carlos, Sophie, Kika, Pierre, Charles and Lando are on the yacht. Sophie introduces you to all of them here for the first time and you're very nervous about it so you drink a bit too much..

Y/N's POV

Carlos, Sophie and I were the first ones to arrive. Their firends, Pierre and his girlfirend Kika, Charles and his girlfriend Ava, and I guess the only single friend Lando, arrived shortly after us. For me, the biggest introvert on the planet, this was quite a large number of people to meet at once and I did feel very anxious.

Luckily there was a vast amount of drinks on the yacht so I found mine tranquilizers - cranberry vodka and sangria. As soon as the alcohol started coursing through my system, I soon opened up a topic to talk about with everyone. Well, almost everyone. Charles and his girlfriend Ava seemed to have some disagreements so they weren't really in the best mood. She looked like she didn't really wanna be here and he was annoyed that she didn't wanna be here at least that's what I heard when I was going to the toilet because they were alone inside and arguing.

The evening went on with us all sitting in the lounge area, talking and drinking. I was truly having so much fun and I got along the most with Lando. He's so sweet and caring and funny, I was enjoying his company. Eventually Ava left. She was able to leave since we didn't set sail but stayed in the marina. Charles was fuming that she left. When Carlos asked him why she left he said she made arrangements with her friends earlier, he didn't want to talk about it much. Charles went on the upper lounge area and Lando went after him so he wasn't alone and I stayed with Carlos, Sophie, Pierre and Kika in the lounge area on the main deck.

"I love you." I hear Carlos quietly says to Soph while looking at her lips. She was in a half-lying position in his arms. I was scrolling through my phone across from them but I couldn't help but look at them out of the corner of my eye.

"I love you." Sophie smiles and gently kisses him. My eyes got watery at the sight of them. My heart hurt a little and for a second I wished I had what they have. I wasn't envious of them, not at all, I was actually very happy for them and for the first "I love you". But for a second the excitement about the single life passed me and looking at the couples I felt a little lonely.

I get up from the couch and head towards the back of the yacht were was the entrance to the inner part of the yacht. I lean my elbows on the fence and look down at the sea.

Did I make a good decision?

Should i have given us another chance?

Will i regret giving up on us?

Suddenly questions that I constantly avoid facing start to roll around in my head.

No! Of course I made a good decision, he doesn't deserve another chance and I'm not gonna regret anything!

I attribute those thoughts to the excessive amount of alcohol I've consumed since we got here.

Y/n, you were miserable with him, pull yourself together please, you are stronger than these thoughts. I say to myself, but one tear escapes from my eye. And then another one. And one after that.

"Shit.." I breathe out putting my palms over my eyes.

"What happened, Y/n?" A voice asks and it startles me.

"Oh, you scared me." I say looking at Charles standing beside me, but quickly look away wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Charles asks looking at me.

"Too many drinks led me to a moment of weakness. That's all." I say not really wanting to talk to him about my emotional state.

"And what is the reason behind that moment of weakness?" He asks.

"I don't feel like talking about it, but I was wondering how long have you and Ava been together?" I suddenly blurt out turning to look at him. My mind is racing. I was curious about their fight because the way he looked at her, he seemed like he's really in love, but her, not so much according to my estimate.

"A year and a half now. Why do you ask?"

"Sweet. And why did you fight today?" I ask shamelessly and he rises his eyebrows at my question.

"Not that it's any of your business, but-" Just as he was about to say something a strong pain shoots through my stomach. Rocking of the yacht from the waves together with cranberry vodka and sangria equals nausea.

"Oh no.. I-I think I'm gonna throw up.." And just in that moment as I lean over the fence it starts shooting right out of me.

I was hoping that somehow I would be able to control myself and not throw up in front of him, but it was stronger than me. And honestly if I were sober, I would be ten times more embarrassed than I am now.

"Oh come on." He sighs and to my surprise he moves my hair out of my face holding it back. "Please don't fall over, I'm not jumping in for you."

"Oh my God, I'm gonna die.."

"Out of embarrassment? Yeah, I would too if I were you." Charles mocks me, but still holds my hair.

"Oh give me a break, I'm going through a breakup!" I manage to say bitterly because of his lack of understanding for me. As if he should understand me. he doesn't know anything about me except my name, and I don't know anything about him either except that his name is Charles and that he has a girlfriend with whom he had a not so pretty fight today.

"Did he leave you because you were a drunk?" He continues with his provocation.

"Ha ha, not that it's any of your business, but I broke up with him." I'm being sassy like I didn't just throw up in front of a rich and hot F1 driver, but in that moment that fact doesn't phase me one bit.

"Okay, if you say so." He laughs. "Come here, sit on this couch please." I can't help but notice his hand tightly being wrapped around my waist as he leads me to the couch. "Not that I care, but I'm so bored that I'll listen to why you broke up with your boyfriend."

"Well, now I'm not gonna tell you." I cross my arms acting childish making him laugh again. I roll my eyes and chuckle a little myself.

"Y/n? Where are you?" Right in that moment Sophie shows up breaking the sweet moment between the two of us.

"Your friend is running wild over here, she wanted to throw herself off the yacht because her boyfriend left her." Charles says getting up from the couch and my mouth falls open.

"What?!" Sophie's eyes go wide. "Throw yourself because of him? Are you out of your fucking mind?" She asks in complete shock.

Before saying anything to Sophie to calm her down I follow Charles with my eyes as he leaves laughing.

"He's lying of course, I got sick from the alcohol and threw up."

"Why is he suddenly being all smiley like that? Until a little while ago he was furious because of Ava?"

"I don't know, he obviously has issues." I shrug with my shoulders wanting to laugh but manage to control myself.

I'm usually very good at reading people at first glance. Whoever doesn't make a good impression on me in the beginning, whoever doesn't sit well with me, almost always turns out to not have the best personality. Unfortunately, it rarely happens that someone pleasantly surprises me if I don't like them at first. I could say that my intuition is very good and accurate and I really should listen to it more often.

But with Charles that wasn't the case. I couldn't read him at all. He's kinda mysterious, he seems a bit cocky and conceited, but gentle and caring at moments. At least that's what I think I got from today.

He's interesting though.

Part 2 here

[sports-on-sundays]

hiee, could you do a pau x reader where they've known each other since middle school or so and started dating in high school and are best friends before anything else. but as he starts to get famous and known in the group he gets his head in the clouds and starts neglecting her and is embarrassed by her (?) she tries to save their relationship but gets sick of it and breaks it off and gavi has to knock some sense into pau. (pls make it angsty 😭) i love your writing so much!!

love and fame / Pau Cubarsí

Summary: Pau x girlfriend!reader - In which the fame starts to get to a certain teenager's head.

Warnings: angst, neglect, crying, censored cuss

Requested?: Yea

Author's Note: This is a very good, well thought out request; thanks for the great idea! And honestly it makes me so happy to know you like my writing so much; thank you! Also I don't know if you meant it to be a romantic relationship, but I made it that in the end and only realized you may have meant something different once I was finished, so I'm sorry if I misinterpreted that, and I hope you like it still, either way!

It's like you knew what would happen before you even knew it.

"Wow, Pau," you had grinned, high-fiving your boyfriend after a game. You gave him a short hug, patting his back. "You're getting pretty famous, huh?"

"Yeah," he had laughed a bit. "It's crazy. Months ago, I felt like, you know, just me. Just Pau. Now people know me. They're asking for my autographs more and more. Someone wanted me to take a picture with their baby!"

Your nose had crinkled up, but also you laughed a bit at that. "Whoa." You lean back to look up at him, crossing your arms. "Well, you've always been 'just Pau' to me. Cute Pau, who plays football, and who my friends all tell me has a crush on me."

"Yeah, until I confessed it," he said with an eye roll, feeling as though he'd heard this a million times, but still enjoying hearing it, regardless.

But for right now, he looked at you with meaning, and pride. "But aren't you impressed? You know, that I'm going big?"

You grinned. Right now, for now, he cared about what you thought. He cared to make you proud.

Still.

"Hmmm... Ask me again after you've won some silverware," you had teased lightheartedly, obviously proud of him.

He grinned back and claimed confidently, "It's only a matter of time!"

Then you had started walking together, with his arm around your shoulders. You hesitated, pondering for a bit on your words, before casually commenting, "Just don't let the fame get to your head."

"What do you mean?" he had asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"You know... I just hope you'd never put it before me. Or before any other people you love, for that matter."

But he laughed, brushing it off right away. "Of course not, Y/n. No need to worry about that!"

And by the way he said it, you believed him. That sounded so genuine. As if it was silly for you to worry about such a thing. So you trusted him.

Now you see he should've given that comment from you a little bit more thought before openly denying it could ever be a possibility.

Because now, scarily enough, it looks like a very likely possibility.

You're visiting family in Seville, and planned it that way so you'd be able to surprise Pau by meeting him at his game. You weren't exactly expecting him start the game, but when you saw he was, that made it even better.

Or so you thought it would.

Well, it was a great game to watch. Anyone could say that much. A 2-4 win with a hat trick from Ferran- you're happy this is the away game you were able to plan to come to.

Now you laugh and exclaim when you see Pau after the game, all dressed in street clothes again with a few of his teammates- the two goalscorers themselves, and Iñaki Peña. But when he looks up and sees you, he suddenly looks-

uncomfortable?!

"H- Hey, Y/n," he quickly says, glancing to his teammates.

"What's your problem?" you demand, promptly shoving Ferran a bit in order to get to your boyfriend and stand in front of him with crossed arms.

"Nothing... Just, come on..." he says, grabbing your hand and starting to walk quicker down the hall. You see him eyeing both his teammates and a camera in the hall very nervously.

"Is something wrong...?" you inquire.

"Nope! But yeah, great game, no?" he says as you exit the hallway. He seems to be keeping a strange amount of distance between you and him.

"Right... You did great..." you respond, nodding slowly, your thoughts now completely elsewhere.

"Why?" you demand, crossing your arms. You were all ready, wearing your backwards flat cap, football jersey, and shorts. You were just tying up your hair, sitting across from him in an ice cream parlor, when Pau dropped his stupid little suggestion. "Why can't I come to training with you?"

"Be- Because it's not for you!" he argues. "It's for me. You're not a part of the team. You're not even a guy. It's not fair for you to just show up."

You frown. "What, did someone tell you that? Or did you just make that up on the spot, because there's some other reason why you don't want me coming?"

After knowing each other for five years, you and Pau have pretty much figured out how to catch if the other is lying or not.

Pau's face lights up pink embarrassed, proving your suspicions to be true.

You frown. "Pau, your whole team loves me! They don't mind if after training I kick the ball around with them a bit! What, is that the reason? Are you jealous?"

"No... no. That's not it," he shakes his head slowly, before suddenly looking at his watch. "Oh, God, I've got to go now, otherwise I'll be late!"

"I'm coming with!" you demand, standing up.

"No, no!" he says, gently pulling you away from the door. He forces you to look him in the eyes and mutters, "Please?"

You frown deeper. Hesitate. You sigh and mutter, "Whatever. Sure. But we're going to talk about this later."

He nods, seeming a little too relieved for it to be normal, before he walks out of the parlor, shutting the door behind him with a jingle of it's bell, leaving you standing alone in there, looking like an idiot.

You sigh, trying to process all this, but not understanding any of it one bit.

When you see Pau again, he somehow manages to avoid that talk you promised him by just being the sweetest with all his cuddles and compliments. You don't realize it was forgotten before he's gone, and it's too late now.

You sigh, deciding to brush it off. Convincing yourself it's nothing.

But then it goes weeks. No communication, or very little. It's strange, and extremely unlike Pau, who has always been one to always respond. Always spam rants. He always has the last word.

So to be suddenly sending short, dry, infrequent texts? And not inviting you to any dates or events?

It gives you a bad, bad, sinking feeling.

"Hey, Pau!" you attempt at smiling when you finally see him again. "It's been... too long, love..." you start. It's after a home game, and you wanted to catch him.

But he sort of just...

Puts you aside.

"One second, Y/n. I've got to finish something. And, uh, can you not just show up at a game like this...? You're kind of...?"

"I'm kind of... what?!" you demand, grabbing his shoulder, forcing him to give you his attention.

He hesitates, before muttering, "You're kind of dragging me down."

Your mouth drops at the same time as your heart does in your chest. "I'm- I'm what?" Your eyes are wide.

He blushes and mutters, "I guess I just... I kind of want to have you and my... my football life, my fame, separated."

You glare, crossing your arms. "Since when have you wanted me separated from anything in your life? What is this all of the sudden?"

He frowns, blushing deeper. "I don't know... I just... I don't know."

"Okay," you snap. "Whatever." And you walk off in anger, just like that.

He doesn't call you back, so you suppose you're leaving, just like he wants you to.

"So?" you stare across at Pau, unimpressed. You invited him to your house, and now you sit at your kitchen table with your hands resting on it, crossed.

"What?" he sighs, looking guilty.

Well, he probably is guilty. He's super guilty. This conversation is just a matter of figuring out what he's guilty of.

"Why have you been ignoring me? Why have you seemed embarrassed any time I'm around? Are you ashamed of me?"

He frowns. "Uh..."

"So you are ashamed of me?" just the question of that sends a pang through your chest.

"I-"

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing! It's just... Y/n, listen. I'm famous now. You're, like, just Y/n. You're just a regular girl... I just don't..."

"You don't want it being known you have just a regular girlfriend?!" you fume. "You said you wanted to be 'just Pau'! You said you didn't mind that!" You stand up. "But now you can't have your girlfriend being 'just Y/n'?" you jab in a mocking tone.

He takes your hand and says hesitantly, "You can be my girlfriend... I just..."

"You just don't want anyone seeing me, ever. You're ashamed of me," you confirm, pulling your hand away from his. You hesitate, before saying, "I'll give you a chance. If you can get your head out of the clouds, do it, because we have something that isn't worth losing over this."

He looks up nervous. "You would break up with me?"

"If you don't fix this, Pau. I love you, but I won't-" your voice falters for the first time. "I won't stay with you if you don't fix this. You can't expect me to put myself through that."

He suddenly stands up and hugs you, but it doesn't feel right. It should feel more comforting than it does.

But you swallow. You need to trust him. You should trust that the boy you've loved for years wouldn't throw away your relationship so easily.

He wouldn't, right?

You lay awake at night, laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Tears run softly, slowly down the sides of your face, onto your pillow, sinking into it.

Disappearing.

"Pau," you whisper into the empty, stuffy, lonely dark room. "What is it about me? Is there another girl you like more? Am I really that much to be... To be ashamed of?" You groan.

Great. Now I'm talking to myself, because I know I couldn't say this right ot his face.

I'd be too scared to know what his answers would be.

I just want him back. The Pau I know. Not this distant, strange thing he has going on. I want the sweet boy who always wanted me around. The boy who could never shut up about me, never stop raving about me.

Now he's ashamed of my very existence, it seems.

Is it really just the money breaking him? The fame, shattering him to pieces?

That's the only solution you can think of, but you don't want to settle for it.

You shut your eyes, convincing yourself that sleep is needed now.

Though shutting your eyes just pushes more tears out of them.

"It's over..." Somehow, you clench your jaw and stare into him. Somehow, you force yourself to look as hard and cold as a rock.

And as strong as one.

But inside, you're being shattered to pieces, and it's only a matter of time before you break.

Like, for real.

"What? Y/n, no- Please!" But his words, and his tone, doesn't match up with the look in his eyes.

Not exactly.

It's like there's two parts of him, inside, battling each other.

One sees the worth in this relationship. One regrets, and wants to amend. One wants to hold on.

But the other more predominant part is ready to let you go. It sees you as a burden, as a girl that's going to drag him down and make him look bad. A girl who isn't charismatic enough, or pretty enough, to be the girlfriend of a celebrity. A girl who just doesn't make the cut.

Now, you can't stop tears from filling up your eyes as you snap back bitterly, "No, Pau. I gave you a second chance. And a third chance. You didn't listen. You clearly don't care enough about me to get your head out of the clouds and actually make a change! So it's over! Over!"

And by the time you walk out, you're sobbing. Tear, streaming down your cheeks. Your legs shake, and everything feels so wrong.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair.

We were meant to be.

Forever.

We were suppose to be made for each other.

You sit alone in your room. Pulling at your messy, knotted hair. Feeling unwanted.

You are unwanted, Y/n, a voice in your head screams. He was the one that seemed to love you most, that seemed to never want to hurt you. And he was the one who let go of you, in the end.

You choke out another sob. Your parents were concerned, trying to figure out what was wrong, but right when you yelled when you walked into the house that he's an ungrateful b*tch and you never should have gotten with him in the first place-

You suppose they figured it was Pau.

You swallow back your tears, though you know that won't do anything in the end.

They're just going to keep coming.

For months, it's like you were holding this all in. All these emotions. The hope that things would turn around kept you strong enough not to fall apart.

But now here you are.

Falling apart, because now you see there is no hope.

And it really is over.

You roll over, staring at the wall. Tired, blubbering, whimpering back the sobs that softly escape from you. Staring at the peeling Barcelona posters. Anger boils up in you, and you suddenly reach up. "I don't want anything to do with you and your stupid club that changed you!" you suddenly scream, tearing it off the wall, throwing it on the floor.

You press you forehead against the cool wall, breathing deeply and sniffle pathetically, "I loved you."

And you add as your head pounds from all the confusion and tears in a soft cry, "And I still do."

"Is something wrong?" Gavi quite suddenly asks of Pau during some light warmups.

"Why do you ask?" Pau demands, meeting his eyes.

"You've been... quiet. Seems like something is on your mind?"

"Not really," Pau lies.

"Yeah, right."

"Why do you say that?" challenges the younger of the two teenagers.

"Because I know you're wrong. I know something is on your mind."

Pau frowns, pouting a bit at that. "How could you tell?"

Gavi shrugs casually, stretching out his leg gently. "Just can. But anyway- what is it? Does it have to do with your girlfriend suddenly seemingly disappearing off the face of planet Earth?"

Pau groans, leaning his head back. "How did you know?" he says, sounding more sarcastic and defeated this time than he sounded last time.

Gavi shrugs once more. "Two plus two equals four. So she ditched you?"

"That's a harsh way to put it."

"So she ditched you," Gavi repeats, but this time it's not a question, and more like a confirmation. He waits a few seconds, grabs a ball, then starts doing keepie uppies. After some more time, he passes the ball to Pau in the air as he asks, "So why was it?"

"Why was what?" Pau asks, playing stupid, as they continue passing the ball back and forth, doing a few kick-ups in between each pass.

"You know," Gavi says simply.

Pau sighs heavily. "Ask her, if you want to know why she broke up with me."

"But I'm asking you."

"You're nosy!"

"Okay, sure. Anyway, why did she break up with you?"

Pau frowns. Hesitates. "I don't know. I think she didn't think I was giving her enough attention?"

"Were you?"

Pau glances away.

"Were you?" Gavi repeats.

Pau sighs again. "Probably not." But then he quickly adds, "I just don't know if she was good for me."

"What do you mean? Why not?" There's no judgment in the nineteen-year-old's voice. Just inquiry.

Pau shrugs tentatively. "I don't know... I mean, like, she's just kind of regular."

"Regular?" Gavi asks, and now there's judgment in his tone. Judgment that Pau doesn't particularly appreciate.

"Yes, regular! She's just, like, some girl! I'm getting famous now, and there are so many girls that have crushes on me... like, all over. I mean, you know how it is. Would you settle for some random girl-next-door type, when you have so many options?"

"What do you expect to get?" Gavi demands. "Some girl who looks pretty but has no heart? Some girl that wants your money over your personality? Pau, if I had a girlfriend that I'd have known for as long as you've known Y/n, I wouldn't let go of her for all the money in the world."

"Maybe you're a different person than me, then!" Pau snaps, getting red in the face.

"Of course I am! But I'm just telling you my opinion. She's sweet, and she loves you. She has your interests, she cares, and you already know each other's families. Do you really not love her, or are you just embarrassed that you love her?"

Pau's jaw clenches. "I- I don't know." But something about what he just said, deep down in his chest, seems to hit home.

"And, God, she's pretty. I think you're being a bit too high with your expectations. Seems to me you think you're better than you are." Gavi looks up as he passes the ball in the air once more to Pau. "Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds, step down from the pedestal you've built yourself, and look at things a little bit more rationally to how reality actually is." As the ball lands at Pau's feet, Gavi turns with a wave. "If I were you, I would think about this more. It's clear you're not the same without her. You think you'll be happier without her, but clearly, you're not."

As Gavi walks away, paying careful mind to his knee, he comments, glancing back one more time, "You should think about apologizing. Think about what I said. Because that girl is worth a lot more than you think she is right now."

And Pau is left there, standing. Staring.

And, yes, he has a lot to think about.

It's not too far off to say that you've been a shell of yourself since the breakup. There's a hollowness to your eyes, and silence to your vocal cords, and a constant slight shaking to your hands.

It's like you're holding on my a thread, because at any moment, you could break.

Again.

Sometimes you wonder to yourself why you would let a boy control your feelings so much.

But then you remind youreslef that usually, you wouldn't.

Pau was always just different.

Something about you and him clicked.

Perfectly.

There was never a fear of a breakup with him. You never even expected that to happen. You imagined yourself always to be with him. Someday, you might even get married.

Of course, you had had your fantasies about that.

But now that expectation is crushed, and your heart can't deal with it.

So much so that you had to block is number. And all his socials.

Because it was too much of a temptation to just text him. And beg for him to accept you back.

And you knew that wouldn't do any good in the end.

After all, there was a reason why you broke up with him, and a good one, at that.

But in the end, that makes it harder for Pau, two weeks of thinking and stressing after his chat with Gavi, to talk with you.

So he has to go to your house to talk to you.

No getting out of this the easy way, through a text conversation.

Gavi's words just kind of hit a cord in him. Got him thinking. And now as he walks up to the house with a pathetic bouquet of roses behind his back, he's nervous. He feels emotional, but isn't sure how to deal with the feelings he's experiencing.

He supposes when he sees you, he'll just let whatever comes out of his mouth come out, like he usually does, and he'll hope this time, it's something good.

He knows that's not the best approach to life, but can't think of a better way.

When you hear the doorbell ring, you don't really care. Probably just a delivery man, or your parents friends, or something like that. Something you don't care about. So you continue zoning out on your phone, laying on your bed, wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants.

When your mother answers the door, Pau immediately blurts nervously, "H- Hey... Mrs. Y/s/n. Is Y/n home...?"

She squints hesitantly.

Of course. Probably Y/n trash talked me, Pau thinks to himself. Will she even let me in her home?

But after some thought, she turns and calls into the house, "Y/n! There's someone at the door to see you." She gestures to Pau, beckoning for him to come in.

So she leaves the room, and you enter.

And freeze.

Here Pau is. The first time you've seen him in... way too long. And you're wearing pajamas. Your hair is messy. You probably look so tired.

"Pau?" you barely speak. "Why're you here?"

Suddenly he pulls out a bouquet of bright red roses from behind his back, and blurts, "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You stare at the roses, before hesitantly taking them. "Uh, I..."

Suddenly he takes your free hand in both of his, wrapping it around his two. And he starts rambling. "Y/n, I'm so sorry... I was wrong; I didn't know what I was doing or talking about. I was stupid... I was putting other things over the most beautiful girl in the world. Your heart is one of gold... I'm so stupid, and it took one of my friends talking sense into me for me to even realize what I was doing,- the exact thing I told you I would never do. So I'm sorry, and I want you to please take me back, because I feel like we are actually meant to be. It feels wrong with you not as my girlfriend, so I, uh... I think I want to try this again and show you how much of a good boyfriend I can be. I can put you above the fame, because I think I really do love you, and my heart belongs with yours. I- Are you crying?"

You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. "P- Pau..." you murmur, your voice cracking. "You... You're so..." You cough a little, and let out a little hiccup.

"You... I'm sorry for making you cry..." he says right away, concern etched into his face.

You throw your arms around him and begin crying softly into his shoulder. He gently rubs your back, as you press the roses against his.

"You made me cry so much," you breathe. "More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, Y/n," he breathes. And there's regret in his voice. Real regret. "I'm so sorry... Please let me make it up to you now."

You sniff, leaning away to look up at him. "You don't care that my hair is tangled right now? Or that I'm just wearing my pajamas?"

"If I did, that would show I really haven't come around. Of course I don't care. I'm just glad you're here... In... in my arms again."

You sniff and nod. "Thank- Thank you, Pau... For everything. And I forgive you. I forgive you," you take in a few deep breathes, before adding, "And thanks for the roses. They're nice. Smell nice."

He nods, his eyes softening even further. "So... you'll give me another chance?"

You hesitate for only a second, before nodding. "Yes, I will."

He pulls you into another hug, wrapping you in his strong warmth.

It feels like true comfort. Like he really does care.

You breathe a breath of fresh air.

[okkalo]

Good day~ If your requests are open can I ask you for Chigiri, Nagi and Rin when they have a crush and how they'd confess headcanons please? Have a nice day!~

hi anon! congrats on being my first request <3 i hope u have a nice day too!

reminder that requests are open!! if you have any questions about my requests feel free to send an ask!

second part here with: reo, hiori, and karasu

characters: chigiri, nagi, rin

heart is beating up and down!

chigiri

- i headcanon chigiri values quality time

- he’s constantly inviting you to go out or come over (i also headcanon that he makes u avoid his sister when ur at his place bc he thinks she’s just that weird)

- i can imagine you guys getting compliments on being a cute couple in public. he gets so embarrassed and tries to his his face from you. “who says stuff like that?” his play-it-off quote

- he would confess to you in a park. it had been early mid-evening, you guys had just gotten desserts from a nearby cafe and decided to enjoy them on a bench in the park

- after you both had finished your food there was kinda a moment of silence, which was not awkward! it was a more enjoy-the-moment kind of silence

- he decided to break it, finding this a good place to confess to you. “hey, y/n?” you replied with a small hum, looking over at him. you got a little worried seeing him so serious.

- “i like you, a lot.” he would look at you while saying this, his eyes reflecting his confession (god i would pass out on the spot)

- would not be opposed with a kiss, however, he will not engage it!

- pls say you feel the same. imagine his soft smile once you say that

nagi

- he’s probably the hardest one to spot with a crush

- would definitely hang around you more, skip practice to see you (pre blue lock ofc) pls call reo and tell him to get nagi.

- would probably somehow make it a thing where he’s always resting his head on you. be it your shoulder or your lap. he also does the thing where he comes up from behind you and rests his chin on the top of your head!!

- he also likes quality time (he’s bigger on physical affection) so he’s probably at your house a few times a week (probably not much public places)

- i feel like he would ask reo for advice on confessing? pls nagi is so hopeless he doesn’t know what to do..he probably gags at all of reo’s ideas, deeming them “cringey”

- i bet he would confess when you guys arrived at your house. he had walked you home (surprising) but couldn’t stay so he just said it when you were about to go inside

- really awkward because he did it so casually? you had to ask him to repeat himself because you couldn’t believe what just happened (he just replied “i like you.” 😐🧍‍♂️)

- if you say you feel the same then and there he would probably just say “cool” like? he’s so stupid, save him.

- i do not think he would kiss you after the confession!! he would save it for another day!

- i will also believe he would be the guy to think you guys are dating even though he never asked you out or anything? reo has to tell him to confess and nagi is just like “?? we’re already dating??”

- PLS i can also imagine he tried to confess to you in a game but you stopped playing it so you never saw LOL. you start playing it again 4 months after you guys are official and just see “i like you” — 5 months ago

rin

- ilovehimilovehimilovehim.

- he probably takes awhile to confess, hoping his feelings would die but only to find out they grew stronger (he’s terrified of rejection [thanks sae.])

- he would probably do things for you without even noticing. oh, you’re hungry? have his breakfast bar. oh, you’re thirsty? have a drink of his water.

- if he gets called out on it he’ll scoff out a “shut up.” will add an insult unique to the person calling him out too (lukewarm will always be in it however). yes, he’s also blushing (don’t say anything about it!)

- will be so down bad if you do something for him too

- he actually confesses when you’re worrying over his ankle. he was practicing by himself and you were watching and all of a sudden he just stopped moving, to which you quickly ran out on the field to find out what happened.

- “rin you should stop for tonight. i’m not trying to say—.” “i love you.”

- he doesn’t even mean to say it.

- pls kiss him. this man has felt this way for months (he’s probably made you wait that long too)

- if u say you don’t feel the same? bye. im crying for his sake

- if you tell him you feel the same he wouldn’t know what to say back (it would be so awkward). so pls just kiss him.

unedited thank you for reading!

ps. sorry if chigiri’s is weird?

[isa-beenme]

Hey could you pls do the nightmare trope with azriel where the reader has a very bad nightmare in which she sees azriel nearly dead and when she wakes up and finds him she can't believe it's him and he manages to help her ? ☺️🤔

I certainly can! 😉😉

Oh my, thank you very much for directing me on this one, my biggest fear is writing something people wouldn't like since I usually get carried away in the story and write whatever comes to mind first

Hope you enjoy this!!

I know I said I wouldn't do more than one fic for each trope right now but whatever I like this one better 😡

Until It Happens To You

The night was restless as if the shadows themselves whispered secrets that their master shouldn't hear. You felt burdened by a foreboding unease, your mind shifted between the deep slumber and the real world. You didn't feel Azriel's body beside yours in the bed, his side turning cold at each passing moment he was away. You were sure he slept at your side this night, just as the many others he said your presence made it easier for him to finish his work and finally get some rest.

This strange arrangement between the two of you started a few months ago, you with your throat dry and in need of water and him with a pile of work, he didn't finish during the day. You were so deep into your sleep that somehow you managed to invite him to your room and tell him he could do it in your bed since "two work better than one". You were obviously asleep when he found himself at your side, but he remained there anyway and assured you the next morning that it worked, in a strange way. After some days, some times you actually helped him, he distracted himself by your calm aura and slept in your bed.

That's how everything started and, on his restless nights, he found comfort at your side, both of you holding your peace together as the dream world caught you both at night.

Anyway, you imagined he went back to his room, as he did so many nights before, it wasn't weird at all. Yet, you couldn't get back to sleep as the silence filled the house, almost as if it was mourning something. Your eyes started to close again only to open by a haunting scream that seemed to transcend the walls of the whole house, filling every corner with terror.

In this nightmarish scenario, you found yourself standing in the middle of the room, what before was a bright and colorful place became a desolate chamber shrouded in darkness. The air was heavy with a cold, forming an oppressive atmosphere. Dimly lit torches flickered around you, torches you didn't remember you lighted. They kept casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls, mocking you with their macabre movements, almost as if they were laughing at your lack of knowledge.

As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you noticed the open door, more torches lighting your way to the corridor, and the stones covering the walls, dirty with a thin layer of blood that started on your door and kept going downstairs. You checked your own body to make sure, finding nothing but heartache, a feeling that your heart was being ripped out of you.

You followed the path that led you to the living room, the blood forming a thicker layer with each step you took closer. The sight you found wasn't any better, close to the balcony doors, in a position that looked like the person was trying to run away, you spotted a figure lying motionless on the cold stone floor. The wings were shredded to pieces, and blood covered their clothes, forming a pool on the sides.

Your heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned upon you, making your knees tremble as you took in the image forming in front of your eyes. It was Azriel, the one whose love and presence had become the foundation of your existence. Panic surged through your veins, and your voice choked with fear when you screamed for help, but it seemed like no one was in the house besides the both of you.

-Azriel! No, please, wake up! - You uselessly screamed as you ran close to his body, feeling that your heart could explode at any moment with the pain you felt.

With trembling hands, you rushed towards him, your footsteps echoing ominously through the chamber. Kneeling by his side, you desperately shook him, but he remained unresponsive. His usually tanned and alluring features were now pale and lifeless, and his eyes closed in an eternal slumber. Suddenly you understood the pain you were feeling. The mating bond. The realization kills you even more.

Tears streamed down your face as you cradled his motionless form, hugging his cold body the way you could, hoping for any form of life to come out of him. Your voice became a desperate plea as you kept talking to him, even if you knew he wouldn't answer.

-No, this can't be happening! Azriel, please! Wake up! - Your anguished cries reverberated off the walls, fading into the oppressive darkness.

Yet, despite your desperate attempts, your touch suddenly met no resistance. It seemed to pass through his form as if he were nothing but a specter. His body started to disappear in thin air, the despair seemed to taunt you, amplifying your pain and the sense of loss.

As this nightmare tightened its grip on you, the chamber distorted and morphed, becoming a labyrinth of pain and suffering. The walls closed in, constricting your movements, suffocating you with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. You fought against the suffocating atmosphere, gasping for air, your voice a mere whimper as you tried to grasp Azriel's disappearing form.

- Please...don't leave me… I love you. I've been in love for a long time now and you can't leave me here… my mate - Your last words were whispered against the nothing.

When Feyre told you about the day she almost lost Rhysand she told you about the painful sensation of getting her heart broken. And you were there when she need it most while she remembered the situation, but you weren't the one falling off that deep end of silence and cold of a once cheerful and bright string that connected their souls. You understood her now.

You once had a friend that lost somebody close, and you were also there when they needed it most, but you would never be the one having trouble sleeping once the night came and you felt like you didn't do enough. But you understood them now.

You can say you're sorry a million times to Azriel's body laying on the floor. But even if you try hard, he won't come back. The same way you tried to sympathize with your friends, it was helpless, you wouldn't be the one picking up the pieces left of your heart. Now you were. And you felt helpless anyway.

Somebody loses somebody every day, but you'll never really know what it's like till you wake up to some really bad news and the worst scenario you could ever find. You'll never really know how it feels until it happens to you.

You looked around the room, the blood covering everything only made the pain worse. You looked outside, trying to find a starry night, instead, you only found a creature looking back at you, its teeth covered in your mate's blood when the thing seemed to smile at your figure. You only waited for the creature to break the windows and devour you completely, but as it came closer you only felt the wind meeting your skin as the thing breathed against your hair. It was inside the house the whole time, only waiting for you to mourn Azriel's body and relish its work before doing the same to you.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume you entirely, your body jolted awake, every piece of skin drenched in a cold sweat. The nightmare had released its grip on you, but your heart still raced with lingering dread. Trembling, you looked around the room, desperately seeking solace in the comforting embrace of reality. The colors and brightness of your bedroom make itself known as you take in the world around you. The small sounds of night filled you in, the solitude leaving your body.

And then you saw him - Azriel - sitting at the edge of the bed, concern etched across his face. His presence felt surreal as if the boundaries between the nightmare and reality had blurred. Tears of relief welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch him, fear covering your movements as uncertainty filled you.

- Azriel...is it really you? - Your voice was trembling with disbelief as your hand finally made its way toward his face. Azriel's eyes softened with compassion as he gently took your trembling hand in his, his scars making everything fall into place. The reality and the mating bond.

- Yes, it's me. You had a terrible nightmare, but you're safe now - His voice was raw, he was probably trying to wake you up for some time now. Overwhelmed by emotions, you throw yourself into his waiting arms, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline.

- I thought...I thought I lost you - You whispered, voice quivering with a mixture of fear and relief. Azriel held you tightly, his touch a soothing balm to your shattered emotions.

- I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. Do you want me to stay here a little longer? - At that moment, the nightmare's grip loosened completely, replaced by a newfound strength and resilience.

- I need to tell you something - His eyes widened a bit, and his breathing became uneasy. You realized he felt the tug you gave into that bond between you two - It was horrible to feel this being shredded to pieces as you died in my arms, I couldn't do anything while you disappeared right in front of my eyes.

- I'm here now, I'm fine - He kissed your head and pulled you closer - I woke up when I heard your scream. You were calling my name - He smothered his hand on your arms, warming you with his presence - When I got here you weren't screaming, but I could still hear your voice. I probably heard from…

- The mating bond - You finished the phrase for him, just seeing him nodding - Why didn't you sleep here tonight?

- If I spent one more night at your side without having you being mine completely I would go crazy - He put you to lay down on the bed, quickly getting under the covers with you - I thought I should put some space between us or I would hold you in my arms and never let you go.

- I wouldn't be opposed to this, you know - You said in a whisper, seeing the smile that planted his face as he went closer and closer to you, holding you impossibly near his naked torso, enough heat irradiated from him to warm both of you. His presence became your anchor, his love a guiding light through the darkest of nights - What do we do now?

- Now we sleep, I don't go to train tomorrow so we can talk and figure out how we gonna work this out - His hand traveled to your face, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes - I want you to have in mind that I won't rush you in any way, but I love you and I want this between us. I want you to love me too.

- I already do. I always did - You whispered as you went closer and closer, slowly ending the gap between both of you as you kissed his lips lightly, just a taste of the near future you both could have - I want everything with you, and I don't want to wait. Just to remember the sensation of losing you without getting to live anything makes me anxious.

- It's okay now. I promise I won't leave your side - He wrapped one wing around you, providing a safe space for you both - Get some sleep now, when the sun rises we can talk - He granted one last kiss on the lips before you closed your eyes and hugged him tight.

You stayed entwined in each other's arms, finding solace in the warmth of your embrace. The nightmare may have left scars, but also a sensation of longing for the bond that you would have to fulfill for the rest of your life. The scars would heal with time and you would both find solace in the unbreakable bond you shared.

[f1nalboys]

Wall Of Photos - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

started as a sick little smut and then ended up all sick no smut so. sorry? anyways enjoy Bo making you pick a photo from the wall to recreate <3

WORD COUNT: 1165

WARNINGS: dark, death mention, blood and slight gore/viscera mentions?, bo's polaroid wall is the main focal point, photos of past victims described (not-correct shibari and chair being used, photos taken of creampies, etc), mention of past victims. reader has such intense stockholm syndrome and they just dont know it, bo gets off on the photos, weird metaphorical nonsense and just nonsense in general? real freak behavior from me, dark, alludes to past abuse from bo, reader sorta kinda helps (or ignores) the killings and is jealous of people that get bo's attention, alludes to reader death and them being perfectly content with it, polaroid wall is a vigil of sorts so religious stuff? the town and bo are one fr. proofread but i am dumb so....pls let me know if i forgot to tag something!!! it was kind of hard figuring out what needed a warning and what didn't

He steadies you, arms around your waist, his front pressed against your back. He smells like Marlboro Reds, cheap beer, cologne, and blood. It’s more comforting now that it was in the beginning. His smell had long faded from the stench of death that seemed to cling to him; you realized it was this town that the smell clung to, not him, sinking its claws into every crack of the road and every crevice in the maggot-filled buildings. 

“So,” he purrs into your ear, breath hot against your skin. He was always so warm, whether that be his breath or his skin or his words, red hot, hot enough to scald you if you weren’t careful. You were far from careful now, your mind still in the chair a few feet behind you. It hadn’t left even when he had let you out of it months ago. You couldn’t feel your feet but you could feel his arms around you, his fingerprints embedding themselves into your skin like his knife used to. “Which do you like?”

You blink, trying to focus your vision. “Which… do I like?” You repeat and he hums. He’s swaying behind you, with you, like you’re dancing to some tune only he can hear in his head. Maybe the wedding march, maybe something from his youth, maybe his mothers voice. It’s all the same to him. He has you in front of the polaroid wall. “These are…” You don’t finish your sentence, swallowing thickly. Your mouth is dry. 

You can feel the smile on his cracked lips.

Dozens of people, all dead now, all exposed on his wall. He’s in some of them, sometimes his hand, other times his cock, a few of his face, but most of them the person is alone. They’re tied up, either strapped to the chair with duct tape or suspended from the ceiling in a mock shibari style. They’re on their knees, tear streaks and blood covering their faces. Most aren’t looking at the camera, but some are. You try to imagine what they had done to deserve that, to deserve Bo’s voice telling them to smile real pretty for the camera. 

You ignore the jealousy.

“Pick. Whichever one you like, we’ll do.” A choice. He’s giving you a choice, something that had been stripped from you the moment you got to town, maybe long before that. Maybe you never had a choice to begin with. All roads lead to Ambrose. He reaches past you and taps a dirt-covered finger against a photo of a woman on her back, her legs spread, her face tilted to the side in embarrassment. The flash is bright but her cunt is the focal point, not her. She wasn’t what he was looking at, he was looking at what he had done to her, what was leaking from her. Him. The photo was of him. “This one’s my favorite. Ain’t that a pretty sight…”

Bo sighs as he relieves the memory then and there behind you. You feel his hips jut forward ever so slightly, grinding against your back. He was getting hard. “What was her name?” You ask and Bo scoffs, his movements stalling. 

“Fuck if I remember. Why? You jealous of her or something, darlin’?”

“No.”

“No? You suddenly feel bad for ‘em all, is that it?” His voice is sweet like the honey you had watched him slather onto your toast this morning. The sharpness doesn’t evade you and you think of the knife he had used. Steel and honey, honey and steel. One and the same when it came to him. “Didn’t feel all that bad when we had that other girl come into town, now did you?” His hand breaches your shirt, sliding up your stomach to your tits. 

Bo grabs at you roughly, keeping his voice level even when you squeak, struggling against him slightly. Not enough for him to worry; you knew better than that. “No.” It’s true. When she had rolled into town, you hadn’t tried to warn her. You hadn’t done anything, in fact. Just watched while she endured what you did. She wasn’t special. Not like you, not like how Bo treated you. A play thing was just that; a thing. You were something to Bo, and that was enough. 

“Now pick or I’m pickin’ for ya.” 

Blindly, you reach forwards and tap one of the photos. It’s an older photo, long before you, and the girl was smiling. She was on her back in Bo’s bedroom, you knew from the sheets, legs spread with him slotted in between. “This one.” You wonder if this was the first. If this is the girl he’s been chasing all these years, if this is who had started it all. Your stomach twists at the thought of Bo loving someone other than you.

“Good choice, sweetheart.” He drawls, placing a soft kiss to your neck. Your body relaxes at the feeling, at the rare praise, and he knows your putty in his hand. How could you not be? His hand falls out from under your shirt. “We’re gonna head on up there, alright? Let me grab the camera.”

You turn around when he takes a step back from you but you don’t dare move forwards. He grabs the polaroid off of the shelf, checking for film. In another world, the sight would give you butterflies. You can feel them stirring in your gut regardless. “Why do you keep the wall?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself and Bo looks up at you, eyebrow raised. “You never look at it. What is it for?” 

He bares his teeth into a grin. They’re white but they should be red, covered in red, blood from the sheep you are, the poor animal caught in the trap of his smile. “It’s a vigil. You think I just take, right? That I don’t give? I mourn them,” he steps forward slowly so as not to startle you. You wouldn’t move even if you could. The girl in his bed was you now and you were going to be added to the wall, another ghost in the town, another warning no one would be able to heed. Had she thought of Bo the way you did? Had she looked at him and felt a twisted love, a sick and festering commitment to the very end? “I’ll mourn you, when it’s time.”

You nod, letting him place his hands on your cheeks. You’re not crying. He didn’t expect you to. “And I’ll mourn you, Bo.”

“I’m sure you will.” He kisses you and you can taste the blood in his mouth. It’s yours, it's the people behind you stuck in a photograph, it's his mother and father and brothers. It’s his. It’s the town, filled with blood and bile and sickness and rot. He pulls away. “Let’s go on up to the house.” He grabs a wrench on his way out, your hand in his.

You follow.

[redjayson]

Hi! I've asked about your WIPs over a month ago so I thought, with the year almost over, it's a good time to ask for another update! Since then you've finished the winter soldier AU, posted the last (two) chapter(s) of fall for your reflection and even gave us another chapter of the twin AU and the baby's first Omegaverse AU! So now I'm curious what you're working on with two big projects over and done with :)

you're right, it has been a bit! let's see, what's going on right now...? (pls enjoy the working titles for my WIPs, some of which are sillier than others)

Fandom Trumps Hate 2024 fic (is going to be posted over the next few days because it's due by the 31st and I've been...putting off editing it lol. first chapter tomorrow maybe?)

svsss big bang (now, I can't really talk about this because it's supposed to be Secret, but I Am Very Excited About It and speaking of big projects, this is a Big Project. currently at 73k and that's all I'll say about it)

ignis fatuus agelaius (I promised extras for fall for your reflection! I'm thinking I'll just post them as separate bite-sized chapters in their own fic that links back to ffyr/is part of a series with ffyr. I've got about 8.5k of extras atm)

panic! in jinlan city (aka the spectacle gets to you aka baby's first omegaverse fic. chapter 3 is 2.7k right now!)

jianghu war (winter shizun sequel. I've got 1k of planning and almost 3k of actual words on the page, but that's definitely one I would want to have A Lot of before I started posting any of it and also based on how long it took to write that 3k, it's going to be a while before any of it comes out)

alas that nothing has changed with amnesia au ch 4 or murder cave 3, though I do want to poke at them. maybe when the big bang fic is complete! also, honorable mention to second-hand alibis, for which I wrote a bunch of reminder notes for what to do in chapter 25 that have not yet been made into an actual chapter.

as of today, 26 december, I have written 362k words during 2024, only 2.6k of which was not scum villain fic 🥰 between all my writing in 2023 and 2024, I have 342k of scum villain fic posted to ao3 (how...when...?) and uhhhh let me see if I can do this math. about 120k unpublished. obv rn most of that is my big bang fic haha

[lvrsparadise]

'MARY JANE'S LAST DANCE' - M.S

°•*{PART 1 (this one)}*•°

synopsis - "last dance with mary jane, one more time to kill the pain. i feel summer creepin in and i'm tired of this town again."

warnings! - profanity, angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol and drinking/being drunk, depictions of wanting to sewer slide, use of Y/N (ikik) THERE WILL BE A PART 2 DON'T WORRY!!

a/n - mk so ik that the title is one song and I kinda use another in the fic, BUT it matches better, pls work with me here. this is probably my favorite i've written, plus, such a great song

“What should I call you?” Matt whispered to the girl currently dancing in his arms, staring at the wall behind her.

“Call me Mary Jane.” She replied softly, not risking giving away her real name in fear of him remembering her beyond that night, which she didn’t want.

----

Matt regrets that night sometimes. The memories of it leaving him cold and empty, but he’ll always cherish it. 

He swore he had met the girl of his dreams, but that didn’t last long.

For a long while, he blamed himself for her disappearance. But he knows that’s not the truth.

----

Y/N double checked her outfit in the mirror, smoothing the skirt of her dress one last time before taking another deep breath.

She had planned this night months ago; nothing was going to get in her way. Not tonight, at least she hoped.

She collected her keys, tossing them in her purse as she walked through her house to her front door, looking back at the empty rooms, all of her belongings either sold or on the side of the road, begging to be taken.

She was going to miss this house and the memories in it, but not this life.

The music was loud, and there was enough alcohol in her veins to almost distract her from her looming fate. But it was decided, tonight was the night. And she didn’t have a care in the world.

If anything, she was happy. Oh, the irony.

---

Matt doesn’t know how he ended up at this party in the first place, but he doesn’t mind, not anymore at least.

He was having fun, not that he’d admit it aloud. 

“I’m going to get another drink! Need anything?” Chris leaned into Matt’s ear, talking louder than normal so that his brother could hear him.

Matt shook his head, “No! Thank you though!” Matt holds his red solo cup up, it was still his first of the night, and it has lasted him hours.

Chris nodded as he walked away from Matt, leaving him to himself. He bobbed his head to the music but stayed seated on the couch as people came and went.

After about 30 minutes, Chris still hasn’t returned, but Matt wasn’t worried, this isn’t the first time Chris had disappeared like this. The first time it happened, Matt walked in on something he wished he could forget.

Many girls had sat next to Matt, getting all touchy and close, but each time, the girl walked away with a disappointed face. Matt didn’t care, he wasn’t like his brother, he wasn’t just going to pick up some random girl for the night.

It was after midnight that everyone started to dissipate from the house, and that he had spotted a girl, dancing with herself, enjoying the music.

He admired from afar, admiring the way she could care less about what people watching would care.

---

On the other hand, Y/N was having a blast. It was only fitting that this was the last night she would feel like this.

After her drink ran out, she made her way to the kitchen for another one, grabbing another cup and filling it with whatever bottle she grabbed first, a voice behind her startling her softly.

“That’s a little much isn’t it?” Y/N whipped her head around to look at the guy standing next to her, shrugging.

“I don’t care.” She mumbled, setting the bottle down and taking a rather big sip from her cup.

Matt shook his head softly, watching the girl chug her drink at an alarming speed.

“Wanna dance?” Y/N cocked her brow at the guy standing next to her as she finished her drink, crumpling the cup and tossing it in the sink with the many other crumpled cups in it.

“Why not?” Y/N nodded, grabbing Matt’s hand and dragging him into the living room, now sparse of people, only a small group in the corner, doing whatever. 

After around 11:30, the music had shifted from loud party music to slow paced alternative music, Black Hole Sun currently echoing through the speakers.

Black hole sun, won't you come

And wash away the rain?

Black hole sun, won't you come?

Won't you come? Won't you come?

Matt took the girl into his arms, wrapping them securely around her torso, her own conjoining at the back of her neck.

“So, what’s your name stranger?” Y/N slurred out softly.

Matt chuckled at the girl’s slightly slurred words as they swayed to the rhythm.

“Matt.” He whispered as Y/N placed her head against his chest, feeling the safest she has in years in this stranger's arms. It was an odd feeling, feeling secure.

Y/N hummed along with the lyrics of the song; the slow depressing feel of it scarily familiar.

“What should I call you?” Matt whispered to the girl currently dancing in his arms, staring at the wall behind her.

“Call me Mary Jane.” She replied softly, not risking giving away her real name in fear of him remembering her beyond that night, which she didn’t want.

“Mary Jane?” Matt questioned, not believing the name.

“Yeah.” Y/N mumbled as she pulled herself from Matt’s arms, despite her want to stay in them.

“Wait.” Matt grabbed her wrist as she tried to walk away, not wanting her to leave just yet.

“One last dance before you go?” He squeezed her hand softly as she hesitantly allowed him to pull her back into his arms.

They danced for another few songs, Y/N’s body flushed against Matt’s, the moment so intimate, neither of them wanted it to end. And that’s saying something for Y/N.

“I have to go.” Y/N mumbled, her eyes drooping as they sway lazily. She wanted to go; she didn’t want to get attached. She couldn’t.

----

!Present day!

Y/N ended up not carrying out her plan that night, not after meeting him. After meeting Matt.

He saved her life, quite literally. But she wishes he didn’t.

After that last dance, she ran off, crying in her drunken state, slightly regretting how the night went, but loving it all the same.

Currently, Y/N was packing her clothes into her bag, her stay at this hotel now over. 

Music was humming in the background of the small room, the song changing to one she hadn’t heard since that night.

In my eyes, indisposed

In disguises no one knows

Hides the face, lies the snake

Y/N stopped in her tracks, images of his face plaguing her mind until she huffs and shakes her head, switching the song as to not bring up unwanted memories.

She couldn’t think about that now. That was the old Y/N, she wasn’t her anymore, her life had changed, and she couldn’t dwell in the past forever.

---

Matt, however, never forgot that night, as much as he wanted to. She was just some random, broken girl, he didn’t even know her real name.

Matt sighed as his phone rang, accepting the call, Nick’s voice echoing through the car.

“Chris FINALLY figured out what he wants.”

“Fucking finally. I’m almost to the speaker.” 

Matt was currently in the process of getting food. He figured since he was already out and about, why not stop and get food, but Chris, as per usual, didn’t know what he wanted.

“He WAS going to go with a different meal, but he decided he just wanted his normal.”

“Alright, that’s cool. See ya.” Matt hung up the call, slowly moving up in the drive thru line.

After dropping off Chris and Nick’s food, Matt went back out, driving around aimlessly without a designated destination.

It had started raining mid-drive, and he got hungry again.

Pulling into the nearest gas station, he went in for snacks.

After buying his snacks, as he walked out, Matt accidentally bumped into a woman.

“Shit, sorry.” Matt held his arms out to hopefully catch her from falling.

“It’s fine, thanks.” Y/N shook her head softly, looking up at the guy who had both bumped into her and caught her fall, her eyes widening as she’s met with a face she never thought she’d see again.

“Mary Jane?”

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo ✮ @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @mxqdii ✮ @thetriplets3 ✮ @gwenlore ✮ @opheliaofficial07 ✮ @gabbylovesreading ✮ @luvsturniolo ✮ @itsaaliyah2 ✮ @strniolosworld ✮ @parkerssecrets ✮ @rac00ns-are-c00l4 ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask ! ✮

I love you all !

And I hope you all have a good day and / or night ✮

[age-of-greta]

Freaks Come Out At Night

Author’s note: so… hi!! Welcome back to week two of my spooky Halloween series. DANNY LANE WHERE YOU AT????? Truly, I don’t know what compelled me to write this, but here we are. Pls ignore the typos and ENJOY! <3 vibes

Pairing: Danny x reader

Warnings: a lot! Cursing, sexual content, slight violence? Minors DNI

Word count: 3k

“Yeah I’ll be over in about thirty minutes. We just finished recording. I’ll stop by and grab wine on my way.”

“Okay.” You answered, kicking your feet. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See ya.” He responded with a sense of joy in his tone.

You hung up the phone and smiled to yourself. You had approximately 20 minutes before he arrived. Your apartment was close to a lot. Plenty of shops, restaurants, just a few blocks away from their studio. Lucky you.

It started around 3 months ago maybe? You went to a party of a friend of a friend, smoked a little weed, and made eye contact by the bonfire. You still remember his smirk and the way your cheeks dusted pink when he looked at you. He was nervous to talk to you, but that only furthered your intrigue. The first night you met you had slept together. But it wasn’t a typical one night stand. He asked to take you to breakfast after that, then a movie, then lunch, before you knew if you were back in his bed the following night. It had remained that way for weeks. An unspoken agreement that you were faithful to each other, but both of you were too scared to try and slap a label on anything. You didn’t dare to potentially ruin something that felt so good. And that’s what Danny was to you- good.

You padded around in your living room in your impossibly short silk black pajama shorts with a matching tank top. You chose to forgo a bra, you knew Danny would notice as soon as he walked in. You needed to refill your wine glass that was nearing empty, but you didn’t want to drink too much before he got here. You decided to throw together a small charcuterie board for the two of you to snack on. You opened your refrigerator and grabbed some dry salami, an array of cheeses, and olives. You spread them out on your board and adorned them with nuts and dark chocolate blueberries. You smiled at your impromptu little board. Once you sat it on your coffee table you clicked on the tv, turning on Fear Fest. You loved scary movies. Danny was indifferent towards them, but had been watching them all month long with you. You were grateful for that.

The doorbell went off and you jolted out of your trance as the credits began to roll on the original Nightmare On Elm Street. You waltzed over to the door and opened it, smiling at the tall boy in front of you.

“Hi pretty girl.” Danny said, leaning in and giving your cheek a peck.

“Good evening.” You replied with a bright smile.

He stepped in and placed the bottle of wine on the counter.

“Starting without me?” He asked, looking at your baren wine glass.

“Had to have something to hold me over. You took foreverrrrrrrr.” You playfully spoke.

“Apologies my lady.” He said, grabbing your glass and replenishing it with the new wine he had bought. He got a glass out for himself and poured his glass before coming to the living room to join you on the couch.

“You’re too cute.” He said with a smile as he saw the charcuterie board you had made.

You reached your hand out and plucked the glass from him. “It’s the least I could do for the wine darling. Now, what are we watching tonight? I’m feeling something scary.”

He let out a laugh and pulled you to cuddle into him. “Scary? You? Who would have guessed.”

You flicked your eyes at him and smiled. “Have you ever seen Hereditary?”

**

“Okay that was like… super fucked up.” Danny said, his eyes still glued to the tv after the final harrowing scene.

You scoffed at him. “Would you believe me if I told you the second time is worse? If you stare long enough into the background you see all kinds of things you missed upon first viewing. It’s so fucking cool.”

He looked over at you and gave you the strangest look. “You’re a little bit demented. You know that?”

“In a good way?” You ask, already knowing his answer.

He laughs and shakes his head. “In the best way.”

You two had all but drained your bottle of wine and picked over most of the foods on the table. Now you laid over on him as he stroked your hair. Another one of the Freddy Kreuger movies playing in the background. You grabbed your phone and started to mindlessly scroll through your social media. You flipped over to TikTok and turned your volume down. You scrolled through cooking recipes, cats doing funny things, and skincare tips. A certain video of a cat screaming at a plant had Danny chuckling behind you.

You turned your head and glanced back at him. “You like cat videos?”

“I’m a human, of course I like cat videos.” Danny says, matter of factly.

“Boy do I have some good things for you.” You say, snickering to yourself.

You click on your likes videos and begin to scroll. Danny laughs and coos at the cute cat videos. You continue to scroll through the posts you have liked. Your breath hitches as a certain video starts to play and you scrolled past it immediately, hoping he didn’t notice.

“What is that?” Danny asked with a sideways laugh.

“Nothing, just horror movie stuff.” You say, trying to play it off.

“Mhmmm let me see.” He says with a smirk.

Shit. He knows.

You shake your head and he clicks on the video anyway. You could have died when the Ghostface thirst trap played. Your cheeks filled with redness, not wanting him to judge you for a stupid fantasy.

He laughs at it. “You’re into this?”

You blow out a breath. “I don’t know. I mean kinda? It’s stupid, but the whole masked killer being a kinky freak is viral right now. I mean you should see some of the insane lingerie photo shoots people take with Michael Myers.”

Danny nods his head. “Sure, but are you into it?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You wouldn’t say it was a prevalent kink you had, but the thought of it turned you on a bit. The horror genre had always been your favorite and the first Scream movie made you feel some type of way about the “bad boy” trope. You assumed this was a logical progression in a way.

“This is embarrassing.” You say, hiding your face into a pillow.

He chuckles. “Nothing to be embarrassed about doll, but I’ll leave it. Come here.”

Danny pulls you into his lap and you two continue watching your movie marathon. After this one wraps up, you started to clean everything up before starting another.

“Want some popcorn?” You asked Danny, as he helped clean up the charcuterie board.

“Sure.” He replied. “But we are out of wine.”

“Damn. It’s okay, we can switch to water I suppose.”

Danny stood still and thought for a minute. “You know I can run down really quickly and grab some more. Before they close?”

You give him a pointed look. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll survive.”

He shakes his head. “No really it’s not a big deal. I’ll be right back.”

With that he grabs his coat, kisses the side of your head, and bolts out of the door.

Okay?

You wash all of your dishes, put away the food, and pop a big bowl of popcorn. Then you sit down on your couch and scroll through your phone. The thought of getting on TikTok at this moment still embarrassed you, so you opted to check your email instead. You were so engulfed in your vast amount of emails that you had neglected you barely noticed when Danny came back in.

“Wine secured.” He said with a smile walking towards you with the bottle.

“Amazing. You’re the best.”

He popped the bottle and poured two more glasses. You knew after this glass you would probably be on the cusp of tipsy. Wine always opened you up and made you more flirty. It was why you always wanted some when Danny came over, not that you needed to be inebriated to be with him, but it was damn sure fun.

Danny grabbed you again as you both nursed your glasses of wine. His fingers lightly grazed over your shirt causing a sensation to build in your chest. Suddenly, the movie had lost your interest. You chugged down the rest of your glass of wine and placed it down on the side table.

“Woah take it easy tiger.” Danny said with an impossibly gravely voice.

You flicked your eyes to him and gave him a smirk. “Gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

He gave you a nod as you slinked down the hall into your bathroom. You peed, washed your hands, and glanced at yourself in the mirror. Showtime. You hiked your silk shorts up a little higher and pulled your tank top down. Then you spritzed yourself with a salted caramel body spray, brushed out your hair, and popped a mint in your mouth. You were ready, you had waited long enough.

You padded back out to the living room and gave Danny a smile. He returned your grin.

“Bored of the movie?” He asked.

“No…” You said, moving languidly towards him. “This might be one of the best Nightmare sequels, but I am ready to-hmmm switch gears a bit? Are you down?”

You stand right in front of him and peer down at him. You can see him swallow hard before giving you a smirk.

“I suppose.” He replies, grabbing your legs and pulling you onto him.

Just like that your lips finally collided. It was like an explosion of anticipation finally being exorcised. Danny’s large hands ran up and down your legs, back, and ass. You slowly began to grind on him, feeling him harden beneath you. He squeezed your hips, hard, which caused you to let out a bated breath. You bit his bottom lip and pulled, causing his eyes to flutter open. When he finally looked at you, he was ready to take you to bed. He picked you up and carried you into your bedroom as you giggled. When he laid you on the bed your shirt and shorts were almost immediately removed. You manage to get his shirt off before he tied your hands to your headboard. It’s always the quiet ones who are the freakiest. Once you were stuck in place he crawled on top of you, peppering kisses down your torso. You thought you would get the normal treatment, but he stopped just above your panties.

“I’ll be right back. Remember your safe word?” Danny asks, giving you a smirk.

You furrow your brows at him and nod.

Then you watch him leave your room in nothing but his black jeans.

Where in the hell is he going? Safe word?

You take a few breaths, obviously worked up from the past few minutes. He knew how to get you hot and bothered rather quickly. You felt frustrated as you waited on him, you couldn’t even touch yourself. Finally you heard his footsteps come towards you again as you prepared yourself for what would come. You felt his presence when he entered the room, but when you looked up your eyes almost popped out of your head.

There he was, standing there still in his jeans. Shirtless, his chest beautifully chiseled. But instead of his perfect face there was a mask. A Ghostface mask. He stood and looked at you, not saying a word. His head cocked ever so slightly looking down at you. You gulped and looked back up at him. Then you saw it, a small pocket knife in his hand, the one he always carried.

Fuck. Is this where he went when he got wine? To buy this mask?

“Danny…?” You spoke out, but you knew it was him.

He continued to stay quiet, but nodded his head. You squeezed your legs together just for the slightest friction. Finally, after what felt like 10 minutes he moved slowly towards you. He straddled you and took his finger, drawing a line from your breasts to your navel. You let out a shaky breath as you saw the blade in his hand. He took it and lightly grazed it over your stomach. The cold sensation made you nearly jump.

He has never done this before. This is why he reminded you of your safe word.

Part of you felt uneasy or unsure. But the other part of you felt absolutely ravenous.

He stroked the blade in the same line his finger had just drawn, not putting hardly any pressure on it. He wasn’t going to cut you, not really. He leaned in closer to you and brought the blade to your jaw, lightly dragging it around. Then, he leaned in close to your ear, the fabric from the mask tickled your collarbone. You felt him inhale your scent before asking; “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You drew in a breathy laugh. “I think you know the answer to that one.”

He let out a dark laugh. “Oh I do.” He starts as he lightly trickles the blade down your chest again. “Had to give my girl her little fantasy.”

You take in a gulp.

My girl?

His hands fumble around a bit before they meet your clothed center. Slowly dragging circles around, making you whine and squirm. You threw your head back as a finger slipped in the side of your black panties.

“Fuck-“ You let out in a small moan.

You could feel how wet you were, soaked even. As he started to slowly pump a finger into you the room quickly filled with obscene sounds. He was so good with his hands. With each pump you were beginning to rapidly come undone. When he added a second finger and his thumb found your clit you were all but done for.

“Danny- fuck. Please- oh god.”

He grunted at your undoing. “Almost there baby. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Danny, I want to come with you. I want you to fuck me. Take that mask off and fuck me, hard. Please.” You manage to whine out.

You could tell he was slightly taken aback, but he had no objections to your request. Slowly, he took off the mask. His hair was a tousled mess of black curls and his eyes were full of lust. He crawled back on top of you and cupped your breast as his lips found yours again. You reached your leg up and wrapped it around him, needing him closer to you. With his other hand he reached up and yanked on the knot, setting you free. You wasted no time letting your hands melt into his body, tugging at his hair and sliding your nails up his back. He let sighs out into your mouth and you swallowed them whole, greedy for more. The time for foreplay was over, you needed him. You took your hands and undid his pants, starting to slide them off his hips. He got your hints and rolled off of you, stripping himself bare. It was your turn to be in control. You rolled your body on him and pressed yourself onto him.

“Oh fuck.” He said through gritted teeth, as you both made contact.

He drank in your body on top of his as if you were the last glass of water in a desert. You grabbed his length and slowly sunk down on it, both of your breathing through the pure ecstasy coursing through your veins. Slowly you started, rolling and rocking your hips, but as he began to get deeper and deeper you wanted more. His thumb found your clit again and you started bouncing up and down. You could tell it was a show for him, the way he watched you in bewilderment. You could also tell he was dangerously close, trying his hardest to hold on for you. He wouldn’t have to wait long as you felt that fire start to spread in your core. Then it happened, total bliss. You swore you saw stars and you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Just strings of expletives, moans, and his name leaving your mouth as if it were dipped in honey. He was right behind you, breathing heavily and full of praise. After, you were entirely too fucked out to even move- so you stayed there as one synching breaths. When you finally rolled off he grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Did I go too far?” He asks, nervously awaiting your response.

You turn your head to him and give him a look. “Too far? I think that might have been one of the most enthralling experiences of my life. I mean fuck Danny.”

He huffs a laugh. “Mine too.”

A few moments of quiet fills the room as he still has your hand in his.

“Would you like to do this again?” He asks.

You scoff. “Now?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. As much as I would love to it’s going to be a challenge for me to move out of this spot.”

You giggle at that. “Then yes I suppose we could do it again.”

He turns his head to you and smirks. “Y’know almost like we’ll make a sequel. Sequel rules are different.”

You can’t help the full smile that envelops your whole face. “Someone has been paying attention to their Scream movies.”

“Have to. They’re my girl’s favorite.”

“Your girl?” You ask with a smile.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes.” You answer eagerly.

He leans in and kisses your forehead. Then you both clean yourselves up before returning back to bed. You found yourself cuddled up in his arms as he turned on the television in your room. You knew whatever was on would serve as background sound and light to your slumber. Your eyes flickered as Danny clicked through the channels. You opened them once more when you heard a laugh escape his throat. On your screen was the original Scream movie. You snickered and cuddled further into his side as he stroked your back. He sat the remote down and left your movie on.

How perfect you thought to yourself as your eyes fell heavy again.

And he was, he really was.

[lantanasmuttyfanfics]

Part 2 of the dexter kissing cupids cheek fic?

Heyyy guys kinda not my fault for not posting cause I’ve had mocks (important exams) this past week and I’ve been cramped with studying

Anyway part 1 of this fic was posted like a month ago I’d say you do need to read it before this one just for it to make sense but I think it’ll be fine if u don’t

Hope you enjoyed and have a great dayy!!

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Raven was ignoring him.

He could sense it. Sure she wasn’t outright turning the other way when he came to view but it was darn close to it.

The only time he could get her to speak to him or even stand beside him was in chemistry where she sat in front of him.

And even then she managed to evade him most of the time. Whether that was by asking Sparrow about some new music thing he was doing or pretending she was doing work.

Worst part was the look she’d give him when Cupid came over. He couldn’t quite distinguish it but it seemed like hurt crossed her face.

So here he was now sitting down with his sister trying to understand.

“Do you think she just doesn’t like me anymore?”

Darling gave him an eye roll, crossing her arms and she leaned forward. Her face yelling at him that he was baking stupid.

“Dexter… just- think for a moment.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing!”

“Ok we’ll think back to Briars party. Did anything happen that might have upset Raven.”

Dexter racked through his head, trying to figure it out. Maybe it was because Cupid- no no that would be silly Raven knew that him and Cupid were just friends.

“… no?”

Darling paused for a second her mouth opening and closing before she pointed at herself.

“Ok think of it like that. If I was interested in someone, but I saw them kissing an other guy on the cheek I would be…”

She let him finish the sentence, huffing out in delight as it finally registered in his mind.

But now that it had, he was more confused. Did Raven say that they were just friends, yet if what Darling was hinting was true then…

He suddenly jumped up, thanking his sister as he practically ran down the hall to Raven castle management class.

Soon enough the bell rang and there he saw her. She was walking by with Apple, laughing as they exited the class.

“Raven? Can we talk?”

It seemed that she was about to ignore him before Apple gently shoved her towards him. “Sure. Umm how are you-.”

“Cupids kiss was nothing-!”

Silence fell between them as they now stood in the empty hall. Gazing at one another with uncertainty.

“What I meant to say was that the Cupid stuff was just friendly. I umm gave her the wrong message and when she went to kiss me I panicked and deflected it.”

Ravens mouth dried up as she continued to listen to him. And something like hope started to grow in her chest as she waited.

Once he was done she didn’t know how to feel. It was a mixture of relief and confusion, like all emotions were jumping at her.

Dexter was panicking. It had been nearly a while minute and Raven still hasn’t responded. Maybe his feelings really were one sided and Raven meant what she said. Maybe-.

“I’m glad… because if it had been more than just friend I’d have felt guilty for doing this…”

Before he could question her, Dexter suddenly felt warm lips meat his own. He froze for a second before his arms unconsciously wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

Once she pulled away Dexter found himself chasing her lips, the desire to taste lips once more gnawing at his brain.

But at last Raven gave him a flirty smile before waking away.

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Back with the ogs and one of my personal faves (call me basic idc) and I shouldn’t have to say this but I’m not trying to villainize Cupid or any character it’s just for fics sake

Anyway to all the americas good fucking luck with that burnt orange as president all I have to say is I’m glad I’m not American (no hate pls)

Hope you enjoyed and have a great dayy!!