#if they tried to tell me I couldn’t go to my childhood home? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sim0nril3y · 9 months ago

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Meet the Family

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon has the joy of meeting your family and finding out why don't you see or talk about them all that much. This brings up some unwanted memories and feelings for him too. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), family drama, shouting, very small mention of Simon's childhood, family disapproval, family arguing, reader has family, reader has siblings, family names are established but no descriptions, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that your phone was making more of a ruckus than usual later. It seemed to buzz and beep much more frequently, each time your eyes cast down to check it they narrowed, then rolled before you pushed the device far, far away from where you had to interact with it. Yet still it actively vied for your attention. “Everything okay, babe?” Simon quizzed, pulling the cork out of the wine he’d chosen and beginning to pour you a glass. “Fine.” You short answer replied, picking up the glass and taking a large gulp.

Taking a seat opposite Simon battled internally about whether to push this conversation anymore. He wondered, if the situation was reversed if you would have tried to get more information out of him. Bloody hell. You would. “I just couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… upset by your phone.” Nodding his head in the direction of the device. “Is something up?”

For a moment you paused, mauling over the situation for a moment before letting out a low huff and answering. “My sister is having a ‘get-together’ for her anniversary…” You announced with a heavy amount of disdain in your voice. “We’ve been invited.” Of course, you’d mentioned your family before but until this point Simon had never met them and the opportunity had never been there. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m invited Anna said it’ll just be close family…”

“Well, I guess you count as close family considering you’re her sister, love.” Simon pointed out and you let out a low huff again. “Who else is going to be there?” “My mum and dad. My little brother Peter. Obviously, my older sister Anna, her husband Barney and their son Hunter.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that. It would be a lot of your family to meet at once. “And do you… want to go?”

Again, you didn’t have a response right away, eyes darting away before back towards him. “I… I don’t know…” Then shaking your head. “Anna is begging me to come, but I know that is only to get the heat off her because if I’m there then all my parent’s attention will fall to me and they will explain exactly where I’ve gone wrong with my life.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that comment, he didn’t like the thought of your family speaking poorly of you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “Would… you want to go?” The question came out tiny and vulnerable, like you might scare him off with that alone.

“They know about me?” Simon quizzed, he’d never met them and he’d never really pressed to do that, he was in love with you and that was all he needed in his life. “They do…” You replied evenly. “They don’t approve... It isn’t because of you.” You quickly add with wide eyes. “They don’t approve of anyone outside of the family. They hated any girl that Peter brought home and they tolerate Barney, but that is only because they gave them a grandchild to fawn over.” You explained before frowning. “Si, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come…”

For a moment he mauled over his options, he could go and accept whatever snide comments and berating came from your family, or he could send you to the wolves and stay home like a coward. Simon Riley was not a coward. “Tell her we’ll be there.” He leaned over to clink his glass against her own.

It was a bit of a drive to Anna’s home she shared with her husband and their son, but that gave you plenty of time to fill in all the dirty details about your family. You had started with your older sister, she was seen as the golden child and your parents bragged about almost everything that she did, her perfect marriage, her perfect children, her perfect house and her perfect holiday home. You explained, Anna had gone to a top University to study finance, but during her gap year galivanting about the US she’d met Barney who’d promptly fallen in love with her and got her pregnant. This wouldn’t typically be too big of a problem, apart from the fact that Anna been engaged before setting off and in a desperate need to escape the monotony of her relationship and her perfect life she’d thrown it all away from another lad.

It was a blow to her parents that their perfect eldest daughter had this mishap, however the fact that Barney came from an incredibly wealthy family and owned his own tech company certainly helped ease him into the family. Then their grandson Hunter came into the picture and everything was a perfect ending from there.

On the other hand, there was your younger brother Peter who had barely scraped by in his school and your parents had to persuade Universities to accept him. He spent more times in clubs than in his classes. Your parents saw him as a typical boy, causing some trouble and chasing the ladies. Boys will be boys; they’d excused with a hearty laugh as Peter would be trotted to the cells for indecent exposer or public indecency. Still even after all the trouble he’d caused Peter was still the apple of their eyes, your mother fawned over him and your father tried moulding him into his protégé.

Then there was you. With a sister that was perfect and a brother that they dotted on that left very little time or energy for you. It seemed like you just slipped through the cracks. Even when they did have time spare for you every decision, you’d made they hadn’t approved. In their eyes, you were simply the wild little fuck-up. It pained and riled Simon that anyone thought of you as anything but perfect and good and kind.

Once they arrived at your sisters’ home Simon was surprised to find that it was an expensive looking townhouse that had been renovated to have some modern features. This strangle matched the dreamhouse that you’d muttered to him one night in your post-sex chatter, it made Simon wonder who had desired the house first, maybe it was you and Anna had simply stolen that dream to taunt you. Approached the modern frosted glass door, it opened and out stepped an older woman with a disguised smile on her face, dressed in a smart, conservative dress with sharp kitten heels. Your hand squeezed his own as you approached, announcing nicely. “Mum…” Ah, your mother, Cynthia…

“Hello darling.” Her voice was soft but hiding something, like a sickly sweet venom that was encasing you both. You had mentioned that she was high strung and highly critical, that remained to be seen. If there was one thing that Cynthia enjoyed in life it was gossiping, followed by bragging about her family, or at least some of her family members, certainly not you, you’d joked to Simon but there was a pained reality to that snide remark. “Look at you, that is certainly an interesting dress…” She observed, cupping your face then. “You look very tired, are you sleeping well?” The snide remarks had already begun, Simon observed.

You complained lowly. “Mum…” Then looked towards Simon, eyes pleading for some form of help or safety or escape but only found his own dark set that matched your own fear. “This is-” Cynthia cut you off and turned her viper grin towards at him, those dangerous eyes scanned him and searched for any little weakness or vulnerability. “This must be Simon.” Cynthia let out an almost cynical laugh. “Now, I must ask your sister to set another place, we weren’t sure that you were real…” It was another little dig that made you wince.

Cynthia then allowed the two of you to follow her further into the house, a lounge area stood before them and three men lingered inside of it. An older man sat on the sofa, drink in hand and head drooping, another around Simon’s age stood behind a small make-shift bar, cleaning glasses and straightening bottles of the labels faced out and proud and then across the room a younger man was texting on his phone. “Simon, make yourself comfortable with the men. That is my husband, Harold. This is my son-in-law, Barney.” Cynthia even gifted him a snide smile, the same she had done to Simon, they were outsiders after all, not as important as blood, simply there to give her grandchildren. “And that is my son Peter~”

Turning to you and lowering her voice, Cynthia said. “Darling, don’t worry that you didn’t bring a present, your sister understands that you don’t make a lot of money-” “N-no, I just left it at home.” You attempted to explain but your mother just chortled lowly and squeezed your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure… just like how Peter ate all your Christmas chocolate when you were 10, hmm?” Then she poked your tummy in jest. “But I think we all know where it went.”

Simon forced himself to grit his teeth, looking between and watching you purse your lips, accepting the vicious attack with a tight smile and glossy eyes. “Now, don’t make that face~” Cynthia smirked directly at you, as if knowing she was pushing your buttons. “Come, your sister will want some help in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll survive being apart from your boyfriend for five minutes, hmm?” Then looking towards Simon and asking. “You won’t mind if I borrow her, will you?”

More than anything he wanted to deny her, snatch you up into his side and away from anymore of her cruel remarks, but her claw-like hands were already circling you and tugging you from the room before he had a chance. The next moment, a presence walked up behind him and Simon turned to see a very happy looking man stood there. “Hey man…” A thick American accent rolled from him. “My name is Barney, you must be Simon, right?” He was quick to shake his hand and comment. “Quite the grip there, you play golf?”

Shaking his head Simon followed him back to where he’d been lingering (or probably hiding) behind his bar. “Do you drink, man? What’s your poison?” Barney asked enthusiastically, very proudly gesturing to the array of bottles that were placed behind the bar, squeaky clean but hardly used. “Whiskey. Neat.” Then leaning against the bar and waiting for it to be made. Another approached, this time your brother, tucking his phone away into his pocket as he sidled up beside him, elbows resting on the bar too, matching him stance for stance. “Simon, right? The latest addition to our fucked up little family.” Peter commented, his tone just as snide as his mother’s – the apple didn’t fall far, he supposed. “I’m sure my sister told you all about me…”

“She mentioned a few things…” Simon answered evenly, reaching out to take the offered drink from Barney, drinking it down a little too quickly to appear casual. Bloody hell, he’d been on battlefields and felt less anxious. “Well, I’ve got a few stories about my sister that I’m sure you’ll want to hear too~” The young lad began before Simon glanced in his direction, testing and bothered by his presence.

Sensing the impending tension Barney let out a hearty chuckle and said. “Maybe another time, huh?” Then giving Peter a pointed look. “Simon… what do you do for a job?” He asked in a friendly enough way, this seemed to catch the attention of Harold who actually glanced in his direction, quietly accessing and judging, it felt like you were the only normal one to actually come out of this family. “I’m in the special forces.” Simon explained, keeping his answers short and sweet, not allowing too many details to slip out, it wouldn’t be professional. They all had different reactions to this little piece of information. Peter quirked a brow whilst Barney grinned and nodded. “That’s tight. Respect, man.”

“A solider…” Peter muttered. “Lieutenant, actually.” Simon corrected in a sharp tone. There wasn’t many things in life he was proud about but you and his career were among the only few.

Again, your brother seemed to stir from beside him. “So…” Looking at him, wanting to judge Simon’s reaction. “How many people you killed?” The question was so crass that it actually made Barney gasp before letting out a nervous laugh and saying. “Pete, I’m not sure you can ask questions like that, man…” Then another laugh before giving his brother-in-law a soft punch on the shoulder, followed by a pointed look, don’t push.

There was this clear power struggle that Peter was trying to win. This happened often with rich boys like your brother, they saw Simon as a threat because he was physically much more impending than them, feeling even worse when they discovered that Simon wasn’t as dumb as they thought he looked.

“Not something that I keep count of…” Simon answered keeping his face straight, remaining unbothered. It was a good answer, it was formal and dignified, not to mention filled with some honesty. It wasn’t like Simon could even keep count anymore, even if he had wanted to. Peter seemed unimpressed with that answer and simply huffed before saying. “Bet you could think of at least five different ways to kill me in here, right?” Again, this spiked the interest of Harold, glancing in their direction.

Another challenge. Another prod. Another opportunity to attempt to make Simon look unhinged. Attempting to break the tension Barney laughed awkwardly. “This joker-” “I could think at least ten.” Simon retorted, dark eyes watching Peter to see that smugness falter for just a moment as true fear sank in. From across the room for just a split second Harold smirked then it washed away as he finished his fifth drink of the night.

The room was thick with an air of tension as you stepped inside looking completely flustered. “It’s uh… it’s time for dinner.” You informed them, frowning as you tried to access the atmosphere, approaching Simon to rest a delicate hand on his forearm, wrapping yourself around the limb. The room cleared out as Barney escorted his in-laws to his dinning room. Gazing up at Simon, you asked. “You alright?”

Simon’s eyes seemed to focus on where Peter had been escorted from the room, watching that area on alert for a few moments before his gaze flittered back in your direction. “Told your brother I could think of ten ways to kill him in this room alone…”

You blinked. Slow and calculating. Attempting to understand the words that Simon had just rushed in your direction. “Excuse me?” You muttered, staring up into his eyes in confusion. “Why… why would you say-” “He was pushing me.” There was an edge of frustration to his tone. You brother had gotten under Simon’s skin a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud. Reaching up you cupped his face and looked into his eyes with such care and sincerity, it really did pain you to witness your family treating him in a way that left him so anxious and wound up. “I believe you.” You whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My fucking family… It’s my family, they make it their mission to push and prod and make your life misery. I’m sorry-”

A short huff came from Simon, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently and replying. “You don’t ever apologies for any of them.” He told you, voice firm and sure. There was no part of this that was your fault. You were born into a family of cynical fakers, wanting to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as their own. He hadn’t even been around them for an hour yet, but Simon could see that you were the only good thing to come from your family. He could force himself to survive the rest of the dinner party for you… but when this was over, he never wanted to see these people again.

“Come on, now…” Your mothers voice entered the lounge and she lingered in the doorway, big fake smile on her lips and glass of wine in hand. “You were late to the party and now you’ll be late for dinner too…” Cynthia chortled, clearly still holding that grudge. “I swear, my darling girl would be late to her own funeral too…” The comment was made as she swayed down the hallway towards the dining room, Simon simply grit his teeth and continued to bite his tongue. A few more hours, he reminded himself constantly.

The dinner that was severed was nice enough. Honestly, the only cooking that you actually enjoyed nowadays was anything that Simon served up for you and it was something he was more than happy to take care of for you. It was mundane and simple and peaceful, just for some time he could force his noisy brain to shut off, it simply wasn’t warfare.

You sat beside him, food pushing around your plate, probably each little biting comment from your mother stripped away any hunger from you. Cynthia had persuaded your siblings to list all their recent achievements to you, which they seemed all too happy to do. Maybe they knew that if all that vitriol that poured from your mother was aimed at you, then they’d continue to escape it… or maybe they enjoyed it because they were just as cruel as she was.

“Are you enjoying the food?” Cynthia quirked a soft brow at Simon, it was a strange observation but Simon noted that your mother wore a face so similar to your own, maybe more than the rest of your siblings but not even one of your expressions matched. There was so much pure and true joy and easiness in your smile, but each time your mother did the same it seemed like it might crack her face into tiny pieces. “I’m sure you aren’t used to a good homecooked meal, hmm?” Then laughing lowly. “Especially with this one’s cooking…” Pointing a fork in your direction.

“It’s fine.” Simon responded evenly, clearly not to exaggerated praise that your mother had been expecting, simply narrowing her eyes and taking back another gulp of wine. “I like to cook for us…” His hand then rests on your knee beneath the table, reminding you that you weren’t alone facing your horrid family, but that Simon had your back. “Between the two of us, I have more time to cook, anyway.” Then he shrugged, gazing in your direction and seeing your desperation to find safety and warmth within him. “With all the hours that she works and then the time she spends on her art, I like to keep her fed…” Too afraid to continue aloud, Simon thought, keep her warm, provided for her, keep her happy, keep her satisfied. Just… keep her.

A deep scoff came from Cynthia then, another big glug of wine until her glass was empty. It seemed that Simon had given Peter the opportunity to speak then, smirking from across the table. “Speaking of work…” Those dangerous eyes loomed as you sat a little straighter in your chair. “Heard from a friend that you missed that interview dad set up…” The comment was thrown out there so casually but you were left reeling as you knew the chaos that simple comment would cause. Besides, how did he even know that? There wasn’t a chance in the world that Peter had friends to be able to tell him that information, so what? Was he following you? Keeping tabs on you? Before you even had the chance to interrogate him Cynthia spoke first.

“No, no…” Placing down the wine bottle onto the table with a heavy thud, eyes fixed on you. “Please tell me that isn’t true.” Raising her brows, as if waiting for you to deny Peter’s allegations but you remained sheepishly quiet. “You lied to me.” There was a fiery rage in her eyes now and you knew that you were in for it. “You told me that you went. I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother…” Your mouth opened then, as if to defend yourself but Cynthia was much too quick to continue her tirade. “We have spoken about this again and again… I made it clear it is time to give up on this silly little fantasy that you’ve been holding onto. It is time to grow up and join the real world. You need to be more like your brother and your sister…” Gesturing wildly to them as Anna sat almost ashamed with her gaze down to her lap and Peter sat there with a smarmy smile the instigator of this.

Again, you opened your mouth, but her hand came up sharp in your direction. “Do you know the strings your father had to pull to organise that interview?” Then gesturing towards Harold who seemed completely unphased, cutting his steak into another bitesize piece whilst his wife continued to berate their daughter before the audience. “You are such an ungrateful brat and you always have been. When will you understand? You have absolutely zero desirable qualities so finding a decent job will be very difficult for you… who in their right mind is going to want to hire someone like you, hmm?”

Everyone apart from Cynthia and Peter appeared mortified, Anna looked to you with horror on her face and then Barney spoke, careful smile on his face. “She still had plenty of time to figure out what she wants to do, right? Anna took a gap year during college… Pete did the same… So, she isn’t going abroad or whatever, instead she’s trying to… to… figure out if she can follow her passion, I think it’s-” “Be quiet.” Cynthia growled at him then, teeth grit. “Don’t talk such nonsense… Peter and Anna were working hard at college and needed a break to find themselves and after returned to college and get their degrees. What does she have? Nothing. I couldn’t even convince her to apply to any colleges… She is a lazy, stubborn, silly little girl and you are chasing a hopeless dream-” “Enough.”

Every set of eyes then turned to look at Simon who sat with a furious look present on his face. At the beginning of the evening, he could maybe accept those biting little comments, he could certainly accept the way that Peter had provoked him, Simon could even accept the way that your mother had sat there bragging about your siblings but he wasn’t going to allow her to utterly humiliate you like this. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way.” Carefully from beside him, you muttered his name, a soft plead to try and calm the fight that seemed inevitable now. “No.” He told you firmly, quietly, gazing down at you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. “I won’t just sit there and let her fuckin’ talk to you like this… I wont… I can’t…”

It wasn’t like Simon had grown up in a good household. It was clearly different from your own. Simon had witnessed his father completely decimate any good in his family and he was too young and too small and too scared to stop him or do anything. This is why he is the man he is today; he wouldn’t allow that again and seeing your family ripping you to shreds, tearing apart any good and hope and light inside of you was too much for him. Not you. Never you.

“Simon, please. You simply don’t understand...” Cynthia began. “My daughter lives in this word of make believe where she thinks she is going to become and artists and be able to make money and buy big houses like her sister. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve tried getting through to her, but-” “Your daughter is a fuckin’ adult.” Simon growled then, leaning into the table slightly so he could talk across at her. “She doesn’t need you to find her a job and she doesn’t need you to approve the choices that she makes in her life.” Simon growled, feeling this need to protect you and keep you safe, that very same one that had grown for his mother in his childhood. Different, but… the same. “Your daughter… your daughter is fuckin’ amazing. There isn’t a thing about her that needs to change. She’s intelligent and she’s soft and kind and she’s really fuckin’ talented and I wonder how all of that managed to happen when she grew up around you cunts-” The entire table seemed to gasp in unison.

There seemed to be this stunned silence before everyone erupted, Peter almost fell off his chair laughing, whilst baby Hunter wailed from the commotion. Cynthia stood stark upright, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unacceptable! Disgusting! Unacceptable! He’s an animal! He’s feral!” Stalk through the house on a tirade of insults aimed in his direction with her husband trailing behind her. Anna was trying to hopelessly clean a puddle of wine from where it had teetered over onto the table. “It’s fucking vintage!” There were real tears in her eyes, much to Simon’s surprise.

Just then Barney stood up, bouncing his son in his arms and looking between you and Simon. “I think… I think it would be best if you guys left.” There was sorrow in his eyes as he suggested it, not wanting to be unkind but just not wanting anymore drama. It was probably for the best even if Simon did have a few more choice words for them.

The entire car ride home you were unusually quiet beside him. He was actually a little lost on how to handle this situation. There weren’t a part of him that was sorry for what he’d said to your family, or more specifically your mother. Simon just couldn’t handle the fact that she could talk to you in such a vile way. There was only so much that Simon was willing to take and he’d lost it. Fuck, had he scared you? Were you mad at him? Were you sad for causing a rift in your family? Had he even caused a rift? Clearly, they hadn’t thought very much of you before he’d been there…

A small sniffle from beside him caught his attention, glancing in your direction and under the glow of the streetlamps Simon saw your face wet with tears. Without hesitation Simon signalled and pulled his truck onto an empty road, clambering from the driver’s seat and around to yank open your door. A moment later his arms were around you, hand supporting the back of your head burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re alright. Shh. You’re alright, babe.”

After a few moments of allowing, you to just sob into his shoulder, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Don’t ca-care what they s-say about me-” “Well, I do.” There was a thick edge to his voice, pulling back to cup your face and looking for any sign of fight towards your family but you seemed defeated, you seemed emotionally drained. Where was that witty girl that had corned him on a night out? Where was the one that had to almost twist his arm to open up? Where was that fight for her own pretty self? “I care about what they say about you because they are dead fuckin’ wrong, babe. No one deserved to be talked to like that. I won’t allow it.”

There was something deeper simmering here behind all this. There was something that Simon didn’t want to confess or discuss. The berating. The belittling. The treatment of less than… This was something that Simon wouldn’t allow for you because he had experienced it and much worse. “You don’t deserve it.” It was like Simon was talking to all the people in his life that hadn’t deserved the fate they were given. You. Him. His mum. His brother. His friends he’d lost. The soldiers that had died in his arms. “Okay?” “Okay.”

Masterlist | Ask | 04-02-2024

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pathologicalreid · 10 months ago

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hello my new favorite tumblr writer 😇 i will b honest i have never requested anything before so!! bear with me. however the spencer reid brainrot is all too real SO would you be open to doing anything with a hotchner!fem!reader? bau or not for the reader! something something hotch is very hesitant about their relationship but maybe reader gets caught in the crossfire of something and hotch and prentiss see them together afterward and prentiss is like “that looks pretty real to me.” DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE OKAY I’M LEAVING NOW THANK YOUUUU 🫡

a father's daughter | S.R.

in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

who? spencer reid x hotchner!fem!bau!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, blood, stitches, hospitals, medical inaccuracy word count: 2.03k a/n: anon you are legendary. this is an incredible request and i am so honored to be your new favorite tumblr writer! i am an absolute sucker for anything hotchner!reader (or rossi!reader) so i absolutely ate this request up! (also if anyone wanted to drop a request in my inbox... it would be welcome)

Aaron Hotchner was the most professional person in the BAU, except when it came to you. You, like him, had gone to law school. You were a public defender for just a short time before being put into WITSEC, and when your mother died, you applied to the FBI Academy.

Plain and short, it was nepotism, but no one was going to argue with the man whose wife was murdered by a serial killer. Your dad wanted you in the BAU so he could keep an eye on you, and there was nothing Erin Strauss could do about it. What your father couldn’t control, was your relationship with Reid.

He could tell you that he didn’t approve, but so long as David Rossi, king of inter-bureau mingling, was around, he couldn’t actually do anything to stop you. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen Reid be consistent with a relationship,” your dad said, having pulled you away from the team to, once again, try to warn you off of your relationship.

“He’s been pretty consistent for the last seven months,” you responded, rifling through the victims' files that were in your arms.

You started to make your way out of the empty office when your father spoke again, “And he’s too old for you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you pivoted and faced your father, “He’s three years older than I am, I’m twenty-six. That’s hardly an age gap to bat an eye at.” The two of you had always had a rocky relationship, he missed a large portion of your childhood due to this job and you always tried to not resent him for it.

Your parents’ marriage fell apart, neither of them handled it well, and you weren’t all that surprised. They had gotten married when your mom got pregnant with you because they thought that was what they were supposed to do, and when Jack couldn’t keep them together, everything fell apart.

“You have no right to lecture me on relationships, Agent Hotchner,” you snapped, staring him down. Daring him to challenge you.

He sighed, obviously trying not to lose his patience with you. “I’d just hate for you to find out you wasted your time on something that wasn’t real.”

The door behind you swung open, you spun on your heels to face Emily. “Sorry, uh, we have a location, Morgan’s coordinating with SWAT,” she said, looking between you and your father.

“Great, let’s go,” your father said, his parental demeanor falling away as his Unit Chief mask took its place.

You walked out the door to see the rest of the team, Rossi tossed you a Kevlar vest as you walked over to where Spencer was standing with the police chief, “Where are we headed?” You asked, undoing the Velcro on the vest and pulling it over your torso. The beige precinct was buzzing as agents and officers prepared to break into the UnSub’s home base. Hopefully to find his most recent victim still alive.

Reid reached over and adjusted the strap of your vest, making sure it was evenly tightened over your shoulders. “Garcia found a warehouse on the other side of town. It’s being rented out under an anagram of the first victim’s name,” he said, gently squeezing your arm before dropping his hands back to his side.

Nodding, you followed the rest of the team out the metal doors of the precinct and into the black SUVs. “Your UnSub’s name is Jonas Watts, he used a different name to rent the space but the account he uses to pay for it is under his name,” Garcia’s voice rang through the speaker as she told you about the perpetrator. “He checks every UnSub box we have, raised by a single father after his mother left, and… oh, multiple arrests for assault.”

You looked up to the driver’s seat, your dad was white-knuckling the steering wheel, entirely focused on driving as you listened to Garcia reciting the UnSub’s rap sheet.

When you arrived at the warehouse SWAT was already there and Morgan started organizing the tactical assault. Drawing your weapon, you nodded at your teammate when he instructed you to go around the back with himself and your father. Allowing Morgan to kick the door down, the three of you held your firearms up and began clearing the warehouse.

Further away, you heard Emily and Spencer clearing the front. “Clear, moving up,” you called into your radio as you approached the stairs, stepping on them carefully so they didn’t creak. On the landing, you looked at a trail of blood on the ground. “There’s a blood trail in the upper west wing,” you whispered.

“Move up, little Hotch, I’m right behind you,” Morgan responded.

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, one that you had begged him to stop using, you moved forward, keeping your firearm aimed right in front of you. Turning into the room that the blood trail led to, you immediately ducked when you saw a knife coming for you. Keeping your gun aimed, you faced down the UnSub, “Jonas Watts, FBI!” You announced yourself, scanning the room for the girl he took last night.

Watts shook his head, “You’re not supposed to be here! You can’t be here!” He shouted in distress.

“Where’s the girl, Jonas? Where did you take Isobel?” You asked him, not seeing her in the room the two of you were in. There was another entrance on the left of him.

He stepped toward you, and you cocked your gun, “I don’t have her now. I lost her, she’s lost,” he said, there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Unnerved, you decided to take a leap of faith, “Jonas, where’s your partner?” A partner hadn’t been part of the profile, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The crimes were too complex, it didn’t match up with something as simple as using an anagram of a victim’s name for the warehouse rental.

Morgan filed in behind you, aiming his gun at Jonas, same as you. “Time’s running out, Jonas. If you tell us about your partner we can help you,” he said, slowly inching toward Watts.

“It’s too late,” Jonas wailed.

Someone knocked into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward before you were pulled to your feet. One arm was locked around your torso, and another was holding a knife to your throat. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll cut her fucking throat!” The unnamed man said from behind you, he was almost impossibly tall, easily overpowering you.

You didn’t dare move, not with that knife to your throat, one false move and you’d bleed out. Morgan shouted for him to let you go, but he just pressed the knife tighter to your neck, splitting the skin.

Shutting your eyes, you tried not to cry, fearing the damage it would do to your throat.

Your captor held you tightly to him, using your body to block Morgan from shooting. Something warm trickled down your collarbone, and you weren’t sure if it was blood or tears.

For a moment, you thought you could swing your foot back into his knee, but the fear of having your carotid cut outweighed your bravery.

Ever since you were a kid, you thought death would be quiet. Something you slipped into like sleep, but your death was loud, and it left your ears ringing.

The afterlife was the weirdest place you’ve ever been, someone was calling your name, and you heard your rights being read. Although, why you would need your Miranda Rights in the afterlife you had no idea.

“Angel, please open your eyes,” someone said.

Confused, you opened your eyes and saw familiar eyes staring down at you. Golden and bleary. Spencer, Spencer was here. You tried to sit up, but he held you down, keeping a hand on your throat.

Morgan was shouting for medical, saying there was an agent down. You turned your head to see the still unidentified UnSub on the ground, shot through the temple. Using his free hand to turn your chin, “Don’t look,” Spencer whispered. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, angel.”

If you weren’t still coming down from an adrenaline high, you might’ve smiled at the irony of the nickname. Being called ‘angel’ after having your neck cut felt like tempting fate.

Where was your dad? Of everyone here, you expected him to be here, barking orders at people.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your dad appeared, nearly hauling an EMT behind him, “Help her,” he said.

Yeah, that absolutely tracked.

The EMT’s packed your wound and assured everyone that your carotid had not been slit, against your protests, the ambulance brought you to the hospital for stitches. Emily had run to the hotel to get your go bag, allowing you to change out of your bloodied clothes.

Thankfully, the doctors said you didn’t need to stay overnight, meaning you and the team got to go home. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked while you were waiting to board the jet.

You hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes, and leaning against a car, “Tired, but I’m alright.” Tired might have been underselling it, you felt like all of the energy had been physically drained from your body. “You worry too much,” you whispered, closing your eyes for just a moment. Your throat was a little raspy, but it should go back to normal after a couple of days.

“Your throat was cut about four hours ago, some might say I’m not worrying enough,” he responded, reaching down, and picking up your bag, carrying it over to the jet once they got the okay to board. On the jet, he gestured to the seat, “Lay down, get some rest.”

You furrowed your brows, “Isn’t it kind of frowned upon to take up a whole seat?” You asked, of course, sometimes it happened, but you didn’t want to take up too much space.

Spencer cocked his head at you, “I don’t think anyone is going to fight you on it, love.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the seat, laying down and closing your eyes, falling asleep before you even left the tarmac.

Being the Unit Chief had its perks, surely, but the piles of paperwork sometimes felt never-ending. Aaron took a deep breath before he closed the file, Rossi sat across from him, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Prentiss whispered, taking the seat next to him and setting her glass of water down on the small table. “Do you see that?” She said, gesturing with her head toward where you were lying down, asleep.

Right next to you was Reid, who usually had his nose buried in a book at this point in a flight, but he was wide awake, and all of his focus seemed to be on you. Begrudgingly, Hotch watched as Spencer reached over and tucked a blanket around you as if he was afraid you’d freeze on the temperature-controlled jet. “What about it?” Hotch asked, reaching over for the next file.

His eyes flicked up again, Spencer was sitting on the floor of the jet. Everyone had elected to leave the couch seats for the two of you, but the one across the aisle from you was empty. Like Reid didn’t even want you to be any more than one foot away from him.

Leaning back in the chair, Emily shook her head, “That’s what we in the business call hypervigilance.”

Hotch didn’t respond, he just spared another glance over at the two of you. “’We in the business’?” He inquired, humoring Prentiss.

“I’m just saying… the hovering? The blanket? I don’t know about you, but that looks pretty real to me,” she said, leaning back in the leather seat.

Silently, he glared, it would seem his hopes of getting the team to stop eavesdropping on familial conversations were quashed.

“Just let the kids be, Aaron,” Rossi said, grinning into his glass.

He cleared his throat and flipped open the new file before he acquiesced, “Fine, for now.”

please reblog, like, and/or comment if you enjoyed 🩵

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #margot's asks #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds angst

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vxnuslogy · 8 months ago

Text

— lost to time ft. sae itoshi

— warnings: angst, character death, slight ooc?

— author's note: a reupload of my favorite work on sae while i finish editing the next 2 chapters of my hazbin series. enjoy!

— first recording

“hi sae! i heard from rin that you’ll be leaving for spain. i’m really sorry i couldn’t come to see you off, i’ve been busy studying, you know, for exams and stuff. but that’s beside the point! i wish you all the best sae! do your best and when you come back home, you better be the world’s best striker yeah? don’t worry, everything will pass by quickly so don’t miss me too much ok?”

sae hated planes. he hated them quite a lot. in was a constant reminder of that time when he was only 14, leaving home to go to spain to live out his dreams only for it to be crushed 4 years later. sae hated the airport, it was always so busy and so stuffy and so cramped. he hated the feeling of being surrounded by unfamiliar strangers, hated the feeling of people brushing up against him even if they didn’t really mean it. sae hated winter. it was the season he severed his bond with his precious little brother after all. it was the season he turned his back on him and it was the season he had wished to never relive again.

— second recording

“hey hey guess who’s sending you another voice message? it’s me obviously, why didn’t you tell me you were back already?! if you did i would’ve picked you up from the airport!

……

is something the matter sae? you haven’t picked up any of your parents’ calls and their really worried about you. you can always talk to me remember? i’ll always be here to listen, ok? don’t bottle everything up, it’ll do more bad than good. well, i have to go now. talk with your parents every once in a while will you? ever since you left for spain you’ve pretty much cut off all contact, even with me. that’s all, good night sae.”

sae didn’t really like flowers. he thought they were a hassle. plants that require specific needs and if not met, they’ll wilt. sae was never fond of them but here he was, standing in front of the counter of a local flower shop as the elderly shopkeeper wrapped a bouquet – filled with carnations, gardenias, lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums.

everything passes.

— college; third recordings

“i got into my dream college sae! can you believe that! honestly, i was really nervous when i took the entrance exams, but thankfully i studied real hard and managed to pass! i’ll be moving into the dorms soon. i’m gonna miss home. oh and rin! i heard he got into a soccer program recently, isn’t that nice! he’s following your footsteps in becoming the best striker in the world. i know, i know, you aren’t a striker anymore but it’s still nice to know that you’re still into soccer at least. by the way, when will you come back home? i kind of miss you, you know. i never got to see you off and when you did come back i was out of town and really busy. what about we plan a meetup or something in the near future? you know, make up for the times we lost? oh, i have to go now! my parents are helping me move in to my dorm. catch you later sae!”

sae didn’t really like coming home. the house he grew up in for the first 14 years of his life felt too foreign to be called home anymore. his parents felt like distant strangers that he just met a couple weeks ago – they felt more like acquaintances than his mother and father. the photos framed around his home felt like ancient relics from thousands of years ago, he didn’t recognize them. sae didn’t recognize himself.

maybe he spent too much time in spain to the point where it felt more like home. how ironic, he began to realize. he had flown back to japan to escape from his hell that was spain but here he was, in his home, in the bedroom he used to sleep in for endless nights, wanting to go back to the place that left his heart hollow.

“there’s nothing else i could do.” he tried to convince himself as he sat down on his childhood bed, the bouquet of flowers at his side. he could only sigh and let himself fall back into the bed of his long gone home. “everything passes.”

“hey hey hey it’s me again! how have you been sae? i’d like to think that i’ve adjusted pretty well in college. made a few new friends and met some old ones. honestly, i almost didn’t recognize them! i mean, do you remember makoto from middle school. he was a such a problem child back then and now look at him! he’s a scholar now! i guess everyone just starts to become more mature after hitting 18, who knows. thank you again, for the gift. i was definitely shocked when my roommate told me i had a package from you. i can’t believe you still remember that i wanted ‘no longer human’! thank you, i’ll be sure to treasure it. well, that’s all for today. call you some other time sae!”

everything passes.

— drunk recordings; the words i wish i could’ve told you sooner

“how do you work this again? ah got it! hehe, hi again sae! i’m at a party right now, man maybe you were right, i do have shit alcohol tolerance. but it’s fine. don’t worry, i’m already on my way home and the driver isn’t some creepy dude that might kill me.

……

you know, i like you very much but i don’t think you’ll believe me. i know i jokingly said that we should marry each other if we aren’t dating someone if we hit our 30s, but i kinda wanna marry you even if we aren’t 30 yet. is that weird? i really miss you. please come home.”

……

“hello? god that was so embarrassing… sorry, could you just forget about what i said in the last recording? um just, gosh i don’t even know. denying it won’t really help right haha… it’s in the past now so don’t mull over too much ok? please, just disregard that last recording. i’m really sorry, it was just me being drunk.”

sae did not in fact disregard that recording. in fact, sometimes in the dead of night he’d think about it and wonder, if he had replied to that specific recording would things have ended differently?

sae didn’t like deep and evoking questions about ‘what if’s’, he finds them annoying most of the time. and yet here he was now entertaining the idea. bouquet in hand as he casually walked around the neighborhood that the both of you had grew up in. the same twists and turns, same houses, same playground, same everything.

yet the silence was too loud, even for him.

everything passes.

— graduation recordings

“well, i think it’s safe to say i survived. i graduated sae, are you proud? man i still can’t believe i was a few point from getting the valedictorian spot but oh well. alls well that ends well i suppose. i heard you won your recent match congratulations mr best midfielder! kinda wish i was there to see it, but don’t worry! in your next match i’ll definitely save up enough money and buy those tickets to spain and your match one day! just you wait, i’ll be the screaming my lungs out and support you, i’m still your number one fan after all!”

sae had some feelings of dissatisfaction when you did not in fact get those tickets to spain and his match. maybe it was his wishful thinking but he really did wish you were there. but he knew it was impossible.

he remembered the feeling of anger and frustration running through his veins, cursing the heavens above because he felt the need to show the gods his emotions. sae hated thinking about you in that moment. he hated how he felt like he was in a new version of hell whenever you just happened to cross his mind. sae hated you very much.

everything passes.

— recordings from 2 years ago

“i’m sorry. i know you should’ve heard it from me but i guess my family beat me to it haha. to be perfectly honest with you sae, i had no plans of telling you. i’m sorry. its just, the thought of breaking the news to you. how could i ever do that to you? i’m sorry. god i’m so sorry sae.”

……

“hey. i received the gift you sent me. you didn’t have to , you know. now i kinda feel bad about having you go on break in the middle of soccer season because of me. but still, thank you. i appreciated you being here, with me. it was a refreshing feeling, talking to you again and just hanging out. work has been really stuffy and felt like i was being caged but you came. you suddenly appeared and suddenly everything was alright again. i know we only said goodbye a couple minutes ago but, i miss you already. sorry. this sounds really weird doesn’t it? anyways, thank you again for the gift. i’ll be sure to wear it everyday. that’s all, have a good night sae.”

……

“hey. sorry for calling at such an odd time. i just. i just felt a little lonely. i sound so stupid i’m sorry. good night sae.”

……

“makoto dropped by today. god he was as annoying as ever but he really cheered me up. he managed to confess to this girl he’s pining over since sophomore year. i’m happy for him. but it really got me thinking about us. i know i told you to forget about that one recording because i was drunk but now that i look back on it, i wasn’t really honest. to you and myself. i know this may be the worst timing to confess but yeah, i like you very much. since primary school, as cliche as it may sound i think it all started when you stood up for me from those bullies. now that i think about, i practically glued myself to your side ever since that day didn’t i? i’m glad you didn’t really mind that. i remember always using homework as an excuse to always have you hang out with me even though i completely understood the lesson. man, where did i get the confidence to do that stuff? but i guess those times are lost in the sands of the past i guess. oh right, sorry, i forgot you didn’t really like those type of stuff. getting all deep and whatnot. well that’s all, i’m getting pretty tired already so i’ll head to bed. good night sae.”

everything passes.

— present

“hi. thank you by the way. i don’t know, i just don’t think i’ve ever said that you recently. so, thank you. its a bit funny isn’t it? i would almost always talk your ear off every recording but this time, i can’t even find the words to say. my parents came over, talked to them a bit. rin visited as well. he’s gotten a lot taller than i last saw him, he’s probably taller than you now!

……

sae, thank you. for everything. i’m glad we stayed in touch. i’m glad we stayed as friends. thank you for making my days seem just a tad bit brighter, though sometimes i wonder what it would be like if we were, you know, dating. wonder what the difference would be. i mean we’d still talk to each other right? maybe holding hands and kisses but that’s pretty much it right? but thinking about it is useless right now. maybe in an alternate universe were actually married and adopted a cat like how we used to talk about.”

“you know, before this very moment. i accepted my fate already. i was content, i was doing fine but now. sae, i don’t want to die.”

“please remember me ok? and i’ll be sure to remember you. i’ll see you again, sae.”

“nii-chan..”

sae could only put his phone back in his pocket. his younger brother standing a good distance away from him. he could only imagine how rin looked like right now. was he pitying him, grieving with him? he’ll never know because he will never turn to look at him. not when your right in front of him.

how many times had he played all your recordings for the past 2 years? maybe a little over a 100 times? maybe close to 200 now?

sae removed all those thoughts as he placed the bouquet on the ground, the wind seemed to answer to his call – you seemed to answer to his call. despite all the pain, all the misery, all the bitter waves of grief that flooded his being whenever he played your recordings, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. he didn’t want to forget what you sounded like. your voice reminded him too much of home.

“happy birthday you idiot.” he said to you, keeping his hands in his pockets, watching the leaves of the flowers in the bouquet sway with the wind. two pieces of paper underneath it threatened to be blown away. “you said you wanted to come visit me and watch my match, well now you can.” two pieces of paper, one a plane ticket to spain the other a ticket to his upcoming match two weeks from now. “you better come watch me alright?” he could only bitterly smile.

“you’re 30 now,” he whispered, before getting on one knee. placing a velvet box in front of your gravestone. “you should’ve waited for me, you idiot.” sae could only mutter those words to no one in particular. it was as if the world had stopped for a moment, the wind had stopped howling, the sun was nowhere to be seen. he could only see you. “i wanted to marry you too, y’know.”

sae could remember every occurrence where he would sit at his balcony in spain every night after your passing. phone to his ear, listening to all your recordings. but you’ll never know how he replies to them, every single one of them with his own.

“i told the stars about you and what we could’ve had.” he chuckled, “you’re by far the hardest lesson i had to learn.”

standing up from his kneeling position, he gave you one last look before walking away. rin followed suit, but not before placing something at your grave. a pink book that you had loved till the very end.

sae hated planes, but he flew back to japan every year. sae didn’t really like flowers, but every year he’d get you a pretty bouquet. sae didn’t like coming home but if it meant getting to visit you, he’d come back over and over again. sae didn’t like reading or any deep and evoking questions but he always humored you whenever you asked him.

sae hated all those things but they reminded him too much of you to let them go.

and just like your favorite author, when osamu dazai asked to die, he simplu agreed; but just before his death, he suddenly felt obsession with life.

everything passes. just like how you’ll eventually get lost in the sands of time.

#itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock angst #bllk angst #sae itoshi angst #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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gojomamashouse · 1 year ago

Text

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.

Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.

A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.

3.7k words

18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!

You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.

"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"

"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”

Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.

—

Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.

A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.

“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”

Just let me take care of it.

A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.

He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.

His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.

“What’s this?” He picked it up.

“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”

There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.

You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.

“Let me help with that,” he said.

—

You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.

But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.

“Mike?”

He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”

In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.

“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”

You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.

“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”

“Why?”

You avert your gaze.

“I just do.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.

“Because this feels like home.”

The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.

You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?

“Let me take care of you. Please?”

He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.

“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.

Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.

“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.

“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.

“Then talk to me.”

“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”

“You started a fight, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”

“You don’t need to pay me.”

“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.

Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.

He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.

“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.

“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.

“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.

“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”

You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.

“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”

You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?

He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.

“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”

He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.

You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.

He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.

He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes.

“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”

Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.

He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.

“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“

Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.

“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

He hears you laugh.

“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”

“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.

—

You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.

You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.

“Abby, go away!”

“No! Let me—“

“What’s all this?” You interject.

Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.

“Abby, I can explain—“

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x you

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luvyeni · 1 year ago

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❛DONT GO INTO THE WOODS❜ ( l. felix )

p. fairy!felix x human!reader w. 1.9k+

warnings? yandere themes, oral ( f. receiving ), unprotected sex, mind control

— 𖦹 ( your mom always told you never to go into the woods) !

freaktober masterlist

the first time you were told to never go into the woods you were 5 – that was the first time you saw him. he was the same age as you , but you could tell he was different from you , you didn’t have pointy ears and iridescent wings.

he was playing around and you being the curious little kid you were , you approached him. “hi.” he stopped what he was doing standing up. “you can’t be in these woods.” you frowned. “you’re a human.” he said handing you a flower. “people get lost when they come in here.” now that should’ve scared you , but as a kid you had no fears.

he took you by the hand , guiding you out of the woods safely. “keep this flower , i’ll see you when we’re older , my name is felix.” you didn’t know what that mean , but before you could ask him , he just disappeared. you couldn’t even process what was going on because soon enough you had been pulled into a tight hug by your mother who was crying.

“listen to me , never go into those woods okay , don’t go into those woods.” she said through tears. “why are you crying mommy?” your little self was confused. “i’m just happy you’re home.” you didn’t know what that meant at the time , but when you got older your mother told something that shocked you. you weren’t in the woods for a few minutes like you thought – you had been missing in those woods for 3 days.

that was years ago , you’re now an adult , you moved away from your home , graduated school , got a good paying job , and a lovely boyfriend – life was good , but you for some reason you always felt tied back to your childhood home – to those woods , to felix.

“hi mom.” you walked into the house , your mom wrapped her arms around you , she never really got over those horrible 3 days , never really letting you out her sight , she was devastated when you moved away for college , so you tried to come and visit her whenever you could. “ah! my daughter , you’re home.” you smiled. “and you bought your wonderful boyfriend , come in and get settled , i’m gonna start cooking.”

“your mother loves you so much.” you nodded unpacking your bags. “she’s a little overprotective , but that’s just because of what happened when i was 5.” you said. “what happened?” your boyfriend asked. “see those woods outside my bedroom? i was lost for three days in those woods.” you said. “oh my god , how can you be so calm.” you shrugged. “because to me it only felt like a couple minutes.” your boyfriend look bewildered. “what?”

“yeah , people say that the woods are magic , as a kid i believed it , i even imagined a fairy boy around my age , he even gave me a flower , his name was felix.” you laughed. “you have a wild imagination.” he wrapped arms around your waist. ‘you will be mine’ you furrowed your eyebrows. “you okay baby?” you shook the thought away , smiling. “yup , i’m fine , let’s go help mom.”

the night went on , and soon it was nightfall and everyone said their good nights , going to their respective rooms. you one the other hand – you sat up in bed , you couldn’t sleep , your mind still on the woods , and that fairy boy from all those years ago. ‘come to me’

there was that voice again , you looked around and saw nothing. ‘come to me my love’ you got up , slipping on your slippers , covering yourself with your robe. “baby?” you heard your boyfriends sleepy voice. “just gonna get some water baby , go back to bed.” you smiled , he nodded muttering a i love you before opening up the bedroom door – something catching your attention on the floor , a flower , a bunch of flowers , the same one that imagined the fairy giving you. ‘follow the flowers my love.’ you picked up the flowers , that made their way all the way to the front door. ‘open the door my love.’

you don’t know why you were listening to this voice , it was like you couldn’t stop yourself – you kept walking and walking until you reached that forbidden place , the place where you first saw him. ‘let me lead you’ it was like you had no control over your body , like your feet were moving on its own , deeper into the woods – your house slowly getting smaller until you could no longer see it.

Your feet carried you further and further until you reached a house , but not just any house , a tree house , the door was slightly open , you pushed it open , walking in. “hello?” you finally felt like you had control over your body and your voice. “is anybody there?” you heard something coming from a room , following the noise , you found yourself outside a bedroom. “come in my love.” you heard a deep voice. “i’ve been waiting for you.”

“who are you?” he turned around , and you were stunned. his angel like face , freckles scattered all over his face , his blue hair adding on to his magical look. but what tied his magical look together was the iridescent wings – you remember those wings from anywhere , those wings had never left your mind. “you’re him , you’re the little fairy boy , felix!”

he smiled , making his was over to you. “i knew you’d remember me , i knew my angel would find me.” he said , his hand coming up to caress your face , you should’ve stopped him , but you couldn’t , his touch just felt normal. “did you like your gift?” you held the flowers. “they’re really beautiful , i kept the one you gave me when were kids until it died , i was so sad when it died.” you said. “i know i saw and felt how sad you were.” he said. “y-you felt it.” you stuttered , he nodded taking the flowers from you , sitting them in a empty vase , like he’s been waiting. “i’ve been tied to you since that day , no matter how far you went , i could always feel everything you were feeling , see everything you were doing.”

“e-everything?” he slowly turned to you. “yes angel , everything – i could feel when you were sad , i saw when you cried.” he slowly walked over to you , backing you into a wall. “i felt when you were angry.” his hand coming up to your robe tie , pulling at it. “i could feel when you were horny , and when you would fuck your little fingers into your dripping hole.” his deep voice soaking your panties. “i could see it all.”

your breathing was so heaving , his fingers tracing your body. “m-my boyfriend.” his eyes turned dark. “he doesn’t matter anymore , none of them do , you’ll never see them again.” he pushed the robe off your shoulders , letting it hit the floor , leaving you in your short night gown. “you even dressed so pretty for me.”

he pushed you down on his bed , hovering over your body. “the day you came into my woods i knew i had to make you mine.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “y-your woods?” you were so confused , you couldn’t understand a thing he was saying. “these woods baby , they’re mine.” he pulled your panties down your legs. “the creatures and other beings in these woods , they’re under me , and soon you too.” he kissed your pussy. “my queen.”

“felix!” you shrieked feeling his tongue dragging up and down your folds. “taste so fucking sweet baby.” he groaned against your cunt , the vibrations making you moan. “such a tasty pussy.” the fairy ate you like a starved man , his wings flapping behind him , grinding against the bed as he shoved his tongue deeper into your hole. “fuck , fuck felix i’m gonna cum.” you screamed.

he pulled away , shoving two of his fingers into your hole. “wanna stretch you out before you take my cock.” he thrusted his fingers in and out of your hole. “gonna take it like a good girl right , let me fuck your pussy open?” you nodded , moaning. “then cum for me.” he kissed your clit , taking in your all your juices as you came. “shit!”

he lifted your night gown over your body , taking his pants off , he looked ethereal his naked body hovering over yours. “gonna fuck you now.” He rubbed his cock on your folds. “you feel so warm.” you moaned , as he grabbed the base of his cock , sliding into your dripping hole. “fuck you feel like heaven angel.” he groaned , his cock stretching you out as he seethed himself inside you. “just perfect.”

he moved his hips , grabbing your jaw. “look at me princess , keep your eyes on me.” he moaned , his eyes pulling you deeper into his trance. “as of tonight , you’re mine.” he grunted. “forget about your old life , spend the rest of your days as my queen right? you nodded , basically signing your life away , but you could care less with the way he was fucking you. “y-yes.”

upon hearing the small yes they fell from your lips , he sped his movements up , rutting into much faster. “f-felix.” you felt your orgasm bubbling up. “gonna cum angel , let me feel you cum all over my cock.” he rubbed your clit , you , your cunt squeezing tightly as you came.

“fu-fuck , i wanted to wait until we were wed to fuck you full of my kids , but you’re squeezing me so tight.” he cursed. “gonna cum inside you -fuck- tonight.” he groaned. “give me a heir to the throne.” he thrust faltering , thrusting one , two , three times before cumming inside your cunt. “fuck!”

you laid in his bed while he heated up the bath , getting inside with you , washing your skin. “so pretty.” he whispered , kissing your delicate skin , he finally got you , after years of waiting for your return , he finally got you. “you can’t escape me baby , these woods they’re different , they listen to me.” he kissed your temple.

“you’re all mines and all mines , forever.”

©LUVYENI

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kochslut · 20 days ago

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𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫╰┈➤ cooper koch

playing: treat you better by shawn mendes

synopsis: after a painful betrayal, you find comfort in your best friend, cooper, who tries to show you he can treat you better than your ex ever did. torn between the fear of ruining the friendship and the growing attraction you feel for him, you both face the tension between friendship and love, with an uncertain future but full of possibilities.

paring: cooper koch x reader

warnings: cheating, emotional abuse, detailed intimate interaction, oral sex, +18

It was late at night, and you were at home, your face wet with tears you couldn’t hold back. The image of Luke, your boyfriend, with another girl kept replaying in your mind, and the pain of betrayal felt unbearable. Your chest tightened, and the emptiness inside you grew with every passing second. You knew you couldn't be alone in this moment, not now. Without thinking too much, you grabbed your phone and called Cooper, your best friend. He picked up after a few rings, his voice rough from sleep but clearly filled with concern.

"Coops…" your voice came out weak, almost a whisper choked by tears. "I… I need you."

On the other line, Cooper sighed, and you knew he was already tired of all the mess Luke had been putting you through. He always said that guy wasn’t good enough for you, and now it seemed like all his worries were coming true. "Y/N, I'm on my way. Just hang tight," he said, not even giving you a chance to argue. Before you could respond, the call had ended, and you knew he’d be at your door in just a few minutes.

Sure enough, minutes later, the doorbell rang. You opened it to find Cooper standing there, concern etched across his face, holding a paper bag in one hand. He didn’t need to ask anything; one look at your face and he knew exactly what had happened. Without a word, he stepped inside and gently pulled you into a tight hug, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“I brought your favorites,” he said softly, lifting the bag with a few of your favorite sweets, but all you could do was sob against his chest.

He led you to the couch, never letting go of your hand, and sat down beside you, opening the little treats and offering one to you. "Try to eat a little, it'll help," he suggested, but you shook your head, unable to even think about food in that moment. Cooper sighed softly and rubbed his hand gently along your arm. “Y/N, I know it hurts right now, but you deserve so much better than this, you know that? He… he wasn’t the right guy for you.” His voice was calm, but there was a quiet intensity in his words, as if he’d said it a thousand times in his head already.

You lifted your tear-streaked face to look at him, wiping the wetness away with the back of your hand. He looked at you deeply, his eyes full of understanding, but there was something else there, something you couldn’t quite figure out. "I know it’s hard to accept now, but I know he's just not right for you, and you can tell me if I'm off. But I see it on your face. He hurts you, Y/N, and I can’t stand by watching you get torn apart by someone who doesn’t see your worth." Cooper’s words hit you hard, but they also felt like a balm to the pain. There was something about him that always soothed you, and even in the middle of the emotional chaos you were in, his presence made everything feel just a little more bearable.

Minutes turned into hours as you talked—or rather, as Cooper spoke and you just listened, enjoying the comfort of having someone by your side who truly cared. He shared funny stories, embarrassing childhood moments, and even some memories from school that made you smile through the tears. The soft light of the room seemed to dance, creating a cozy atmosphere, and slowly, the pain of betrayal began to fade just a little. As the night went on, you realized that even with a heavy heart, Cooper's presence beside you brought unexpected comfort. He had always been there for you.

When the conversation shifted towards your insecurities and the confused feelings that consumed you, Cooper leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "You have so much to offer, Y/N. Don’t let someone who can’t see that make you forget it. You deserve someone who recognizes how incredible you are," he said, his voice full of sincerity that made your stomach flutter.

A warmth started to spread through you. It was admirable how Cooper looked at you with respect, and a wave of gratitude washed over you. You smiled, trying to hide the mix of emotions stirring inside. "Thank you, Coops. That really means a lot," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. You noticed something different in the way Cooper spoke—maybe it was the vulnerability of the moment, but for a second, you wished he was the one for you.

He smiled back, and in that instant, something sparked. You realized that even in the midst of the pain and confusion you felt for your boyfriend, Cooper was there, ready to support you. The tension between you grew, and for a moment, silence filled the room. You thought about how his presence brightened the darkness surrounding you.

"You really are an amazing friend, you know?" you said, a slight smile on your lips. His friendship was something you treasured, and you couldn’t forgive yourself if you crossed that line with him.

"I just want the best for you, Y/N. Always," he replied, the sincerity in his voice resonating deeply in your heart.

It was like his words echoed a truth you didn’t want to ignore. As the night wore on, the idea that Cooper could be more than just a friend began to take shape in your mind, and you felt a mix of hope and nervousness for what might come next.

The clock on the wall showed it was much later than you thought. The house was quiet, and you could feel the fatigue setting in. The warmth and safety of Cooper’s company surrounded you, and the idea of being alone that night felt unsettling.

With hesitation, you looked into his eyes, searching for the courage you needed. "Cooper..." your voice came out soft, almost a whisper. "Would you… would you mind staying with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone."

He paused from fiddling with the sweets, his gaze soft and understanding. "Are you sure, Y/N?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I really want you to stay," you insisted, vulnerability lacing your tone. "Your presence… it helps."

A smile spread across Cooper's face, and he nodded, "Of course, I’ll stay."

"I’m going to run a bath," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. You didn’t want to show any signs of nervousness. "After, if you want to take one too, feel free."

Cooper nodded again, his eyes following your movements as if he wanted to make sure you were okay. He stayed in the living room while you headed upstairs to your room, the soft sound of your footsteps fading down the hallway. In the bathroom, the hot water felt soothing, easing some of the tension, but it didn’t calm the confusion swirling in your mind.

After getting dressed, you went back downstairs to find Cooper sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. When he saw you, he stood up, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken words. "If you want, the bathroom is free now," you said, trying to sound casual, but there was something in the air that made it hard to act natural.

He just nodded, silent as always, and went up to freshen up while you tried to gather your thoughts. Minutes later, he came down, the fresh scent of soap filling the space, bringing an unexpected sense of comfort. You both headed up to your room, where the soft light of the lamp was still on. The bed looked huge but somehow inviting. When you lay down, Cooper hesitated for a moment before joining you, lying beside you. The space between you felt too small, and even in silence, there was an invisible current connecting you two.

For a moment, you just stared at the ceiling, as if the words were stuck, waiting for the right moment to be said. He slowly turned to you, the mattress sinking slightly beside him. His hand slid to yours, fingers intertwining in a calm, almost hesitant way. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully.

"I never understood, you know? How you could settle for so little… when you’re so much." His voice was rough, full of honesty that made your chest tighten. "You don’t deserve someone who makes you doubt who you are. You never did." He squeezed your hand gently, and you finally looked at him. The look in Cooper's eyes was intense but not angry. It was filled with concern, with care. There was something there you had never noticed before, as if he was trying to show you something you had always refused to see.

"I know I can treat you better than he can, Y/N," he continued, his voice heavy. "And I know you’re still hurting now, but look at me…" He hesitated, searching for your gaze. "Any person like you deserves a gentleman. I always said that."

Those words made you lose yourself for a moment. Cooper had always been there, always taking care of you, but there was something in the way he said it now that felt deeper.

"I’m not here to say I’m perfect, or that I can fix all your problems." Cooper swallowed hard, the tension in the air growing as the truth came out. "But I know I can treat you better. Because seeing you like this, broken, hurts. And I’d do anything to keep you from suffering like that again."

Was that a confession? There was a raw sincerity in each word, no grand promises, no games— just the truth. He looked at you so intensely that you felt exposed, as if all the walls you had built were coming down.

"Cooper, I…" The words wouldn’t come. Your heart raced too fast, and you felt your face heat up. "I don’t know what to say."

He didn’t let go of your hand; he just held it tighter, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen before. His touch, the way his thumb brushed against the back of your hand, stirred something within you. It felt familiar yet completely new.

"You don’t have to say anything right now," he whispered, his voice low but filled with meaning. "I just want you to know that I’m always here. I always have been."

The silence between you thickened, charged with emotions that felt electric in the air. Your heart raced, and suddenly, you realized that his body was closer than before. His warmth was almost tangible, and you could feel his breath—slow and steady—while yours was uneven.

You tried to look away, to fight against the thoughts flooding your mind, but it was useless. Cooper’s fingers intertwined with yours felt like an anchor, and every delicate gesture he made seemed to spark sensations you had never felt so vividly. Your best friend, always so steady, so constant. But now, in that room with the soft light illuminating your faces, everything felt different. And you didn’t know if you were ready to face what that meant.

"I just… don’t understand how things got so complicated," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

He let out a low, almost bitter yet soft laugh. "Love doesn’t have to be complicated, Y/N."

That phrase shattered something inside you, as if finally, something had been revealed. The weight of his closeness, his touch, his warmth… it all made you question what else you had overlooked. You could smell him, feel his strong presence, and the tension in the air was palpable for both of you. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes drifted to his lips, and you mentally reprimanded yourself for it. What was happening to you? It was as if an invisible force was pulling you closer, and every second beside him heightened that feeling.

Cooper noticed your gaze fixated on his lips, and a playful smile formed on his face. "I don’t bite, if you want to get closer… I wouldn’t mind," he said, laughter escaping his lips, light and teasing. Instantly, you felt embarrassed, your cheeks burning a deep red. That feeling of awkwardness only intensified the tension between you. The atmosphere grew charged, and his laughter echoed in the room as his eyes remained locked on yours. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the idea of moving closer made you both nervous and excited.

"Cooper, this isn’t…" you began, but the words faltered. You didn’t know how to explain what was happening, how he made you feel confused and exhilarated.

"It’s just a joke," he replied, but there was a spark in his eyes that made it clear he felt the same electricity. "If you want to, of course." The teasing in his tone made you bite your lower lip, trying to suppress a smile that threatened to appear. The tension grew, and you felt a wave of courage wash over you. It was as if the line between friendship and something more was blurring, and you wanted to explore this new territory.

Without a second thought, you moved a little closer, the distance between you shrinking. Cooper’s expression changed, and you saw surprise flicker in his eyes, as if he were questioning whether you would actually do this. But he didn’t pull back; instead, he leaned slightly in your direction, as if inviting you to take the lead. The pounding of both your hearts was almost deafening. Expectation hung in the air, and you found yourself holding your breath. Your gazes locked once more, and it felt like the world around you faded away. All that existed were the two of you, suspended in a bubble of possibilities.

"Are you sure about this?" Cooper asked, you could feel his breath growing closer to yours, his voice soft yet heavy with desire. The question felt more like an invitation than a doubt.

"I… I think so," you replied, feeling the vulnerability in your words, but there was something more there, a rising determination. Without another word, you decided to let yourself go. With an almost involuntary movement, your lips met his. The kiss started softly, hesitantly, as if you were both trying to understand what it meant. But soon the hesitation gave way to urgency, to the need to draw even closer.

Cooper pulled you nearer, his hands firm on your waist as you got lost in him. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, and you didn’t want to pull away. Your bodies molded against each other, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, the tension that had once been almost invisible now transforming into a fiery connection. It was as if all the confusion and pain you had felt before evaporated, leaving only pure, true desire.

When you finally broke apart, both of your breaths were ragged, your eyes meeting with a mix of surprise and joy. Cooper smiled, that smile that made your heart race. "I… wow," you murmured, still dazed.

"See? I didn’t bite," he joked, the lightness returning to his tone, but the intensity in his gaze remained. It wasn’t long before you found yourself enveloped in his kisses again, and he seemed surprised. So much time waiting for you, for your touch, and now it felt magical.

The intensity of the kiss wrapped around you like a warm cloak, and Cooper seemed to absorb every moment with careful calmness. He gently pulled you even closer, now there was no distance between you both. His fingers glided softly over your waist, while his other hand caressed your face, as if he were trying to imprint every detail into his memory. His touch was gentle, but there was a strong connection pulsing between you, a growing desire that was barely contained. As your lips moved together in a smooth, deep rhythm, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He pressed your body against his, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

He explored your neck with gentle kisses, his lips gliding over your exposed skin, and the sensation was exquisite. Every touch made your mind spin, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations you had never experienced before. He was being careful and attentive, always paying attention to your reactions, as if he was making sure you were comfortable even while the passion was already stronger than you could handle.

With a smooth movement, he pulled you on top of him, you had your crotch very close to his, and he had his hands sliding down your back as the intensity between you grew. The way he held you was protective, but at the same time full of desire. Your bodies moved in harmony, each movement resonating with an echo of a repressed passion that had finally found freedom. You could feel Cooper’s dick rubbing against your thigh. You still couldn't believe it was real.

The best friend? what a cliché.

The kisses became more urgent, deeper, as if you wanted to merge into one being. The man explored every curve, every contour, and you let yourself be carried away, surrendering to the moment. The mix of affection and passion was electrifying, and each touch seemed to ignite a flame inside you.

When he pulled away for a moment, his gaze was intense. Cooper leaned in, sealing your lips again in a kiss that said more than words could express. You knew that moment was just the beginning of something much bigger.

"Can I take off your clothes?" The request was barely a whisper, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race. You felt a shiver run through your skin, a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Unable to find words, you just nodded. It was as if, from that moment on, all his fears and insecurities disappeared.

Gently, Cooper raised his hands and began to pull at his clothes. He did it slowly, as if he wanted to appreciate every second, every little detail. The touch of his fingers on your skin was soft, and a wave of heat ran through your body as you felt the cold air touch your exposed skin. His gaze was fixed on you, full of admiration and desire, and in that moment, you felt more alive than ever. Cooper seemed to respect every part of your being, every nuance of your vulnerability. He moved even closer, his hands caressing your torso, exploring every curve with a delicacy that was both electrifying and calming.

As his hands slid across your skin, you gave yourself over completely, feeling the connection between you grow stronger. Cooper moved slowly, his actions full of intention, each touch an invitation to explore the depths of it. His breathing was labored as he watched you, as if he was trying to burn that moment into his memory. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, and the way he touched you awakened a desire in you that seemed to have been dormant for so long.

His gaze intensified, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both soft and fiery. There was a seething passion, but also a tenderness that made it even more special. You felt completely enveloped by him, and the anxiety that once dominated you now turned into something delicious. Cooper's hands were all over your body, he caressed you while lightly squeezing your skin.

In some moment of courage, you started to move your hips towards him and were satisfied when you heard him make light moans during the kiss. That man was driving you insane, you no longer had any doubts that you wanted more from him; of that moment. As if in fright, you moved a little, putting your hand inside his shorts and stroking his erect member through his underwear.

He looked at you with wide eyes and you gave him a friendly look, as if to say everything was okay. It seems that this was confirmation for what you would do from now on, because you got off of him and tried to remove his clothes, who soon helped you. There was a half-naked Cooper on top of your bed, his penis looks like it would tear his underwear at any moment and you were the only one who could help him at that moment. And without any shame, that's what you did.

"Stand up." his ordination sent a shiver down the back of Cooper's neck and he did so without dissent. With the man standing, you began a difficult kiss, perhaps due to the difference in height, but it didn't last long; You soon started distributing kisses even close to his genitals. His underwear was quickly removed and you couldn't help but swallow hard at the sight of his member without anything covering it.

Cooper gave a perverted smile "Don't choke, y/n", he said in a teasing tone. Well, you weren't a loser, you weren't going to leave your best friend there with that victorious smile on your face. You gave him a wink and squatted down, coming face to face with that man's genitals. You couldn't help but wonder if you could really handle it, was it too big or were you just unaccustomed to your ex-boyfriend's small dick?

So, amidst not at all favorable thoughts, you placed your mouth on his member, who quickly entered a greater state of excitement upon feeling you. He can't help but grab your hair, helping you move back and forth. While keeping your mouth around the entire head of his cock, you ran your tongue over his glans, which made Cooper let out a hoarse moan.

He rocked back and forth as his mouth did all the work down there. You ran your tongue up and down, now using your hand to help with masturbation, trying to feel every part of that man who was there just for you and for you.

His breathing oscillated with each contact your tongue had with his penis, you noticed this and felt increasingly confident in continuing with the sliding movements. You could already feel him inside your throat, pressing so hard that you would probably not speak for some time.

It was hard to tell if Cooper was aware of how big he was, because he was forcing your head forward, making you gag a few times. He was already throbbing in your mouth and you tried to keep control of the situation, taking his hand carefully and removing it from your head. You wrap his penis in your hand and slowly slip your lips around and over it. Your tongue moves slowly under the ridge and around the tip in a figure 8. With Cooper standing, you run the outside of your teeth up and down the underside of his penis, moaning with his penis in your throat, lightly caressing his thighs.

He tried to say something between moans and trembles. "Y/N…" his voice came out shaky and you felt a shiver when you heard him say your name at that moment. "I want to cum with you." He moved back, interrupting the continuation of the blowjob.

You stared at him with watery eyes after a few sessions of gagging. "You're the boss, today." And you smiled at him, and he couldn't help but laugh and think about those words, perhaps the best choice of words you can give a man at that moment.

He took your hands and pulled you back up, the difference in size between you was striking. He felt like your protector, you were so fragile today. All he wanted was to take care of you and… well, he was doing it masterfully. He bent down a little and placed a long kiss on your lips, placing his hands on your back and feeling the soft skin that covered you. He didn't want to be rough with you, not today. Not with such a delicate moment, today he wanted to be a gentleman, kind… He couldn't see himself treating you roughly - even though that man wanted to throw you on the bed with all his strength and fuck you until you begged him to stop.

Now, he lightly lowered his lips to your collarbone, leaving wet kisses there. Your neck had now become his domain, he kissed every part and in some he gave light bites. You were breathing roughly, you were embarrassed to moan at that moment. You didn't want to seem like a poor and desperate bitch, even though you knew that Cooper would never think that of his best friend. The connection between you was unbreakable, and, as those kisses on your neck intensified, you knew that desire and vulnerability were intertwined, and you were ready to explore all the nuances of that new reality.

He ran his warm tongue over your collarbone for the last time, causing a strong shiver to run through your body. Now, he had picked you up effortlessly and laid you down on the bed, the way he looked at you made you blush. It was all unbelievable. He was sitting on a corner of the bed, giving him complete freedom of your body. He started another kiss that ended near your underwear. He stared at you as if asking if he could.

"Today I'm yours." You said in a pleasant tone, making him even more excited than he already was. Today you were his.

He removed the piece of clothing that prevented you from being completely naked and threw it somewhere in the room. Nothing mattered at that moment. You wanted him inside you. You wanted to feel him, have him. And as if he were reading your mind, Cooper put his mouth on your genitals; his warm tongue ran all over your intimate area, making you arch your back more and more. His mouth was all over you, as if he was devouring you. He wanted to taste more and more of you. He felt like a hunter with prey in his hands. Today he had you and he wanted to make the most of it.

Cooper's hands were holding your thighs, as if he were stopping you from leaving. He was squeezing you, but not tightly, it was more like a way of showing that he still had a certain dominance while being so tied to you. His fingers dragged along your walls, eliciting increasingly loud moans from you.

"You're already dripping," he said, caressing the entire length of your arousal. Now, his fingers were helping him with the work while his tongue continued to play over your genitals. The touches were almost hesitant, as if they were both exploring the limits of their shared desire. Their ragged breathing filled the air. His fingers followed a slow path, gradually discovering the areas of greatest sensitivity and a shiver ran through your body, each movement increasing the heat that spread through both of you.

His hands carried a firmness that made each second seem eternal. There was a care in his gestures, but also an urgent need to surrender completely to that moment. Your parted lips let out a sigh, as your hips moved along with Cooper's fingers you could feel a different sensation. It was almost certain that you wouldn't last long there, not with that man touching you like that. And he knew it because he started to increase his speed, staring at you from below. And when you exploded in his mouth, he knew he had done a good job.

You were panting, he enjoyed having you completely surrendered, now he knew your weak and sensitive points even more. Now he knew you better than anyone, and he hoped that you could truly surrender yourself only to him. That was what he wanted most.

"Do you have lube and a condom?" he said when he realized that you had already relaxed. In fact, now he wanted more than anything to feel you inside. He didn't usually use lube, but since he had already decided that he would treat you docilely today, he preferred to ask before trying anything else.

"I think there must be some in the drawer, I'll get it" you got up from the bed and went towards your wardrobe. He watched you open some drawers until you found a purple tube and some small packages, which he soon identified as what he had asked for. You approached and handed everything to him, who graced you with a smile.

"Lie down." He asked and you obeyed, lying down on the bed and watching him put the condom on his penis without difficulty. He soon approached you and placed the contents of the bottle at your entrance. The liquid was cold, making you let out a soft sigh. He was careful as he penetrated you, entering you slowly and asking a few times if he was hurting you, which you denied. In a fright, you could already feel the sensation of being filled by Cooper, he moved back and forth while leaning on the bed.

His cock slid inside you with shocking ease, it was as if your bodies belonged to each other. With each thrust you moaned in unison, transforming the room into your private world. Your breathing quickened as he entered you more deeply. The movements were slow and rhythmic, but the pressure increased, the desire intensified. The caresses explored your skin and the most sensitive areas, provoking visceral reactions that echoed through your mind and body. The emotional connection was as strong as the physical one, creating a fusion of pleasure and surrender.

Muffled moans filled the room, desire taking over both of you. As the temperature increased, the rhythm also intensified, your bodies giving in completely to the mutual pleasure, feeling each wave of ecstasy grow and spread like an invisible current. He let out a few inaudible curses and you scratched his back, it was already impossible to measure the strength at that moment. All you were focused on was giving that man what he wanted.

Without warning, Cooper pulled out of you and managed to turn you around so that your back was facing him. Now you were face down and he started to penetrate you again. One hand was holding onto the bed and the other was running down your back, exploring with more confidence, sliding gently over your skin, knowing every inch with instinctive precision. Your body responded to his touch almost immediately. The pressure of his fingers intensified on the back of your neck, causing deep sighs and muffled moans that escaped without control.

The heat between you grew rapidly, and desire took over every movement, your body reacting in an impulse of pure need. Your skin seemed to pulse under his touch, and the rhythm that formed between you was as much a dance as a battle between self-control and surrender. Cooper moved with a mixture of firmness and gentleness, provoking sensations that ran like sparks through your body. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, closer and closer, more and more connected.

Each movement was more intense than the last, and the touch on the most intimate parts made your body react with spasms of pure ecstasy. The caresses were deep, exploring every nuance, every inch of skin and every area of sensitivity. Your entire body was on alert, responding to each new touch, each new movement. The heat rose unbearably, and the proximity of your bodies made it clear that neither of you wanted to stop. The rhythm increased, the touches became more intense, bolder, as if they both knew exactly where and how to provoke the strongest reaction.

The intensity of the touch between the two of them kept growing, their bodies adjusting in search of greater proximity. With a firm movement, he guided you so that they changed positions. He sat on the bed and pulled you so that you sat on top of him, positioning yourself on his penis. Now, his hands explored your back, slowly moving down, making your breath hitch. He slid his hands around your waist, moving up your torso, while you tilted your head back, giving in to his touch.

He pulled you closer, the direct contact with his body increasing the tension. Your movements were now instinctive, natural. Cooper's hands continued to explore, his touches firmer and more precise, while you felt your desire grow with each second. Your mouths met again, with more urgency, the kiss deepening the heat that already dominated both of you. Your hands, which had been hesitant before, now moved confidently over his body, exploring every muscle, feeling his warm skin against your fingers. Your breaths mingled, the air between them filled with desire and expectation. Cooper held you firmly, controlling the rhythm, but still giving her space to lead what came next.

The change of position left them completely surrendered to the moment, each touch, each sigh making the desire rise even more. Her body moved deliberately, seeking pleasure with precision. The bed creaked under their weight. The sound of heavy breathing and moans of pleasure echoed as your bodies moved together, growing in intensity. Each touch, each movement, was a path of no return; both were in a state of ecstasy, that sensation was completely different from anything they had ever experienced.

The movements intensified, each brush of skin raised the desire to an almost unbearable level. Your body, still in his lap, moved with precision, and Cooper responded with firm hands on your waist, guiding you, the two of you completely in tune. The heat between you seemed to dominate everything around you, overshadowing any thought beyond that moment. You could feel Cooper's breath against your skin, panting, as he leaned in, gently biting your shoulder, each gesture increasing the electricity that ran between you. Your body reacted to each touch, and he could no longer control the moans that escaped, filling the silence of the room.

Cooper tilted his head back, his eyes closed for a brief moment, focused on the pleasure that was rapidly building. The tension between them was reaching its peak, and he could feel his body throbbing against his, both completely surrendered to the moment. The rhythm was accelerating, each movement bringing them closer to climax, the accumulated pleasure ready to explode. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, accelerating until the final moment. When the climax came, it was like an uncontrollable wave that took over both of them. You contracted in a spasm of pleasure, followed by his, who held your waist tightly, the two of you completely losing yourself in each other.

For a moment, time seemed to stop, your bodies still shuddering with the last waves of pleasure. Silence returned to the room, broken only by the heavy breathing of both of them. Cooper held you firmly, but tenderly, as if he was still processing what had just happened. You lay down with your head on his shoulder, exhausted, but with your heart racing, your body still warm, feeling the last remnants of that moment. The two of you stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the newfound intimacy, the silence filled with everything you had experienced.

Memories of what had just happened swirled in your mind, and shame began to set in. Awkwardly, you rolled to the side, lying next to him on the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover part of your body. Cooper chuckled softly at your expression, clearly embarrassed, and turned to the side, resting his arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

"You look adorable when you're blushing, you know?" he commented, his voice low and still a little hoarse, with a relaxed smile on his face.

You huffed, looking up at the ceiling. "Cooper, please, no… That was… I don't know…" Your voice was hesitant, as if you were trying to find the right words, but failing miserably.

He chuckled again, clearly more at ease with the situation. "I know that was… unexpected. But it was good. Really good." He made sure to emphasize the last part, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "There's no need to be like this. We're fine."

Your heart was racing, but you didn't know if it was because of the intimacy you had just shared or the uncertainty of what was to come. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to process everything. Cooper was so relaxed, almost happy, while you were still trying to sort out your own feelings.

"I just… need some time to think," you said finally, glancing at him sideways. "It… changed some things, you know?"

Cooper nodded, not pushing you, his smile softening. "I get it. And I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to decide anything right now." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, making it clear he was there for you, no pressure.

You looked into his eyes, feeling torn between the comfort he brought and the fear of messing everything up with your feelings. "Thanks, Coops. For everything." Your voice came out almost like a whisper, sincere.

"You know I’d do anything for you." He replied, his voice low but full of certainty. You smiled, turning on your side to face him, your faces close together. Even though you had no idea what the future held for you two, you felt at peace. For now, that was enough. Cooper just smiled back, pulling you closer as you both settled under the blanket. He wrapped his arm around you, snuggling you against his chest, and without another word, you both found your comfort in each other’s warmth.

You closed your eyes, trying not to overthink things. There was still a lot to sort out, but for now, you were together, cozy, and that was all that mattered. With your heart calm and your body relaxed in Cooper's arms, you finally drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in the feeling of safety and the mix of emotions he brought.

hey loves, it's me again! this time i tried to write a more chill smut because i was listening to the old shawn mendes songs and this story popped into my head. hope you guys enjoy it, and thanks for all the love and support on my first smut. by the way, after some comments, i decided to make this one with an implied reader gender; hope i pulled it off. love you all! just a reminder: english isn't my first language, so please be kind.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ reblogs, likes, and kind comments are totally welcome! my inbox is open if anyone wants to request a specific fanfic. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

#cooper koch #monstersnetflix #erik menendez #fanfic #fanfiction #cooper koch smut #smut #cooper koch fanfiction #cooper koch fanfic #cooper koch x reader #monsters netflix #cooper koch imagine #cooper koch x y/n

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redvdress · 1 month ago

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USEFUL

A/N i should get up and get ready for uni but all i can think about right now is the feeling of my lovely, warm, comfy bed and who reminds me of who? touya. touya x childhood friend, can be platonic as well!

just imagine having him around (this would already solve 99% of my problems) especially in these cold and rainy day, and when you get home and it’s freezing-or worse, raining- there he is.

It was one of those chilly autumn afternoons at the Todoroki household when you, as usual, found herself lounging around in Touya’s room.

You were sprawled out on his bed, a book in your hands, while Touya sat on the floor, back against his bedframe, playing with his phone.

It looked like you kicked him out of his own bed right? Well it was the truth.

You let out a long, dramatic sigh, closing your book and tossing it beside you.

“Touya, I’m freezing in here. You mind doing something useful for once?”

Touya didn’t look up from his phone. “Useful? You’ve got the wrong guy, yn. I’m more of a make your life harder kinda dude.”

You smirked, rolling over onto your stomach and propping yourself up on your elbows. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Seriously though, I’m cold. My coffee’s gone cold too.”

You lifted your mug from the floor by his bed, making a face as you swirled the lukewarm liquid. “This sucks.”

Touya, still not looking up, snorted. “And this concerns me how?”

“Because you’ve got fire quirk. So…”

You held the mug out toward him, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Make yourself useful and warm it up.”

Finally, Touya glanced up from his phone, giving you an incredulous look. “What do I look like, your personal heater?”

Your lips curled into a teasing smile. “Yeah, actually. That’s exactly what you look like. Come on, hotshot. Warm my coffee.”

Touya huffed, clearly annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye that betrayed his amusement. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your request, but the truth was, he liked the way you pushed his buttons. You were probably the only person who could get away with talking to him like that. Anyone else would’ve gotten a face full of flames by now.

“Fine,” he muttered, pushing himself up from the floor and standing over you.

“But don’t go getting used to this, alright? I’m not your goddamn maid.”

You grinned, sitting up and holding the mug out with both hands like you were offering him some grand responsibility. “Oh, I would never take advantage of you like that.”

Touya gave you a deadpan look. “Liar.”

He reached for the mug, and as soon as his fingers wrapped around it, a small flicker of blue flames ignited in his palm, gently heating the coffee. You watched as the steam began to rise, your eyes glinting with amusement.

“See?” you said, leaning back against the headboard with a satisfied smirk. “This is why I keep you around.”

Touya scoffed, handing the now-steaming mug back to you. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Next time, I’m letting you freeze.”

You took a sip of the coffee, your smile widening as the warmth spread through you.

“There. Happy?” he muttered, pulling his hands back once the coffee was more than adequately warmed.

He snorted, plopping down on the bed beside you. “You’re lucky you’re tolerable. Anyone else and I’d have told them to piss off.”

Before you could respond, Shoto shuffled into the room, his heterochromatic eyes lighting up when he saw you sitting next to Touya.

“You’re back,” he said with a soft smile, his tone lighter than usual.

“Of course, I’m back. I practically live here,” You joked, making space on the bed for him to sit. He still hadn’t quite outgrown the awkwardness around his older brother, but you always tried to smooth things over when you could.

Touya, for his part, scoffed. “What, you got a problem with it?”

Shoto shot him a look, but you waved it off. “Ignore him, Shoto. He’s just grumpy because I made him heat up my coffee.”

Shoto’s lips twitched in amusement. “Why didn’t you just use the microwave?”

“Thank you!” Touya said, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “At least someone here has common sense.”

You smirked, taking a slow sip of the coffee. “Because this way, it’s better. And besides, it’s fun watching you get all worked up over something so small.”

Before Touya could respond, Fuyumi called from the kitchen, “Dinner’s almost ready! Will you all come help set the table?”

“I’ll go!” Shoto said quickly, almost as if he was happy for the excuse to escape the tension between his brothers. He shot you a grateful smile before heading toward the kitchen.

Eventually, Touya spoke again, his voice softer than before. “You really are a pain, you know that?”

You grinned, raising your coffee mug in a mock toast. “And yet, you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He huffed, but this time, there was no denying the tiny smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

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afewfantasies · 3 months ago

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Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - HISTORY- II

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: Benny deals with the personal ramifications of his joyride & learns about the precincts unexpected guest after a night of being in the doghouse with Kathy.

Warning: Mentions of DV and substance abuse. Neither are descriptive or in the current timeline of the story they are reflections of the past.

Word count: 1.3K

Getting to the house felt like it took twice as long while Johnny drive Benny home with Kathy in the back seat and Bruce following behind with Benny’s bike. The tension was getting to be too much for Benny and half of the reason he’d been going on a joyride. He’d grown up in a household that argued and it was why he shut down most times instead of going at it with Kathy. Johnny bids him a farewell with an apologetic look having not time to talk as Brucie puts the keys to his bike in Benny’s hands.

“Come by tomorrow we’ll talk” Johnny says with a serious tone.

“Ok, thanks guys” he nods before heading in with Kathy. He closes the door behind him and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat before Kathy really starts fussing. When it does start Kathy really does lean into it. Her points are valid but it wasn’t like Benny had become a bike rider after he’d met her. If that were the case she’d be on a solid foundation. But she’d fallen in love with an outlaw and then tried to change him.

“And who was that woman there with Johnny? Never see you fellas with them kinda real fancy women” Kathy snaps. Benny hadn’t returned home to peace but all out war for the stupidity of his deeds and disregard for his lady and the family they were building. Kathy’s words not his.

“I was locked up how should I know?” Benny asks thinking of heading to stay with his father tonight as a means of stilling the argument.

“Fancy broad, all done up” Kathy explains as he gets a cigarette. “No smoking in my house!” She snaps.

“What am I locked up in here too!?” Benny snaps finally.

“You comparing my place to a jail after I just put all I had towards your bail? I’ll be eating from cans for the next two weeks” Kathy snaps.

“I didn’t ask you to do that Kathy and you should’t of if you’d resent me for it” he snaps lighting up as he exits the house. He sees her in the doorway as he revs his engine heading back to his father’s house. The drive is long and allows him to clear his head. When he gets out he sees people up playing cards in the middle of the night and nods a greeting before getting his keys. A foul smell hits him as he enters to find his father in a worse state than last time.

“Hi son” Mr. Cross says to his son.

“Pops” Benny nods heading into his bedroom. Sitting in his room be breathless fresh air opening the window and lighting another cigarette. His eyes hold your old window. No one hand heard anything about you since you’d left with the exception of one letter from your mother to Benny’s with a check for the money she’d borrowed and a note telling her that you and your mom were safe and doing well. There was no return address. Teaching over to his nightstand Benny opens his book of children’s stories to your favourite, a photo falls out. Looking at the old photo Benny smiles at your toothless grin. It was one of very few keepsakes he kept from childhood. The two of you had walked for miles on tiny legs to the fair. One of the carnies took pity on the two of you, fed you and gave you enough cash to do one thing. After an hour of contemplation you both decided on the photograph. It was a miracle you’d survived at all. He couldn’t think of things being any worse for children.

He didn’t know why his mind was on you that night but people say when you dream of someone they’re thinking about you. Benny was the main character in tonights dream of yours as you reimagined a colourful life for him. Based on the news reports and his new friends. He was so handsome from the picture he gave James Dean a run for his money. Wherever you were he hoped you were happy, hoped things were going well and that one day he could see you again. Tomorrow he would to to see the guys and straighten out everything to do with his bail, then he’d find a way to repay Kathy. Maybe even leave her alone for awhile.

…

Benny feels more eyes on him than usual. Tensing he prays Kathy didn’t carry on too badly about his jail time. He finds Johnny across the room and heads over. Brucie gets up and Benny sits down unnerved, looking at Johnny.

“How fast were you going kid?” Johnny smiles. His demeanour is a shift from Benny’s expectation.

“I don’t know but I’ll pay the club back” Benny says ready to stand up.

“No need kid, it was taken care of here, have a beer” Johnny says putting one in front of Benny. It’s surprising he’d seen what a bailout could do to the clubs treasury and with so many lately he knew the coffers were probably nearing empty.

“How? Kathy says you called up a woman?” Benny says describing you from Kathy’s recollection.

“Handle your old lady Benny, I don’t need the headache at home.” Johnny snaps. Not wanting the untrue tale to get back to his wife. Johnny hadn’t called you, he didn’t know you.

“Alright” Benny nods sharply.

“Besides, she wasn’t there for me, she was there for you.” Johnny tells Benny.

“I don’t know any women who dress that well” Benny mumbles lighting a cigarette. He’d been underprivileged before he’d become an outlaw.

“Yeah? Well she knows you.” Johnny responds taking out the two day old paper, handing it to Benny he points to the death announcements. Skeptical at first Benny goes line by line stopping at a familiar name. A man whose death he’d prayed for often as a kid. Emotions overtake him and suddenly he feels like the chair he’s sitting in is unsteady and the clubhouse is spinning around him.

Sitting back Benny recalls the last time he cried. It had been a tearful goodbye because of the very name he was looking at. The two of you were holding onto each others hands for dear life, with fear for the unknown as your mothers pulled you apart. Your mother trying to get you to the car before your dad returned home from 60 days in jail, while Benny’s mother tried to get him back inside. You were only kids and you were both wailing. Your father had gone on a tear and really did damage to your mother before nearly turning on you. It had been Benny screaming into the phone like a void that made the police rush over to avert a homicide. It was the first and last time he called them. He’d been trying to save your life and had lost you anyway. Once separated you both watched each other tearfully until you were no longer in each other’s sights as the taxi cab drove away. The memories flow in and he remembers how powerless the two of you had been. Remembers that you were the only person that ever really fought for him. Swallowing he gets goosebumps, he’d just been thinking of you last night.

“Y/N?” Benny asks, your name carrying with it a ghost of hope.

“Y/N, where’d you meet a dame like that?” Johnny asks making Benny smile.

“You sure?” He can’t hide his excitement.

“I’m sure Benny, she came in all done up” Benny smirks recalling the somewhat wild and unkept child from his memory. “The guys were nearly drooling, she’s a looker with good instincts.” Johnny says. Leaving Benny to ponder those thoughts.

“She married?” Benny asks.

“I didn’t look at her hands” Johnny admits as Benny tries to visualize the new image of you in his mind. He was relieved that you seemed to be alright, thriving and beautiful but his heart hoped against hope that you’d found forgiveness for such a sorry excuse of a man.

“How do you know her?” Johnny repeats drawing Benny from his thoughts.

“Neighbours, as kids” Benny mumbles getting up. “Gotta run” he says getting back on his bike suspended license and all.

________

NEXT CHAPTER

Authors note:

Thanks so much for reading🩵 🎆 ! Don't forget to comment, like and reblog.

FOR FUN i'm curious to see what you think. Respond without reading the other comments:

Where's Benny headed next do you think?

Who's death announcement was in the paper?

Would you bail Benny out no questions asked, no resentment?

Tags: @mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring @astrogrande

#austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler x reader #feyd rautha #austin butler x you #benny cross bike riders #benny cross imagine #benny the bikeriders #benny cross x reader #benny cross #the bikeriders x reader #the bikeriders

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sidekick-hero · 3 months ago

Text

I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 2, prompt: ghosts. Title from Euclid by Sleep Token.

Tags: Ghost!Eddie, Angst with a happy ending (!), childhood friends, canon divergence

words: 1.7k | AO3 | teen

"You are such a charmer, big boy. Oh, wow, your eyes are so blue; it's like looking at the ocean. I can't believe she let you get to second base after that line."

"Oh, please, what do you know? How many second bases have you been to?"

Eddie recoiled at Steve's words, and Steve immediately wanted to kick himself. That was a low blow, even for him. Eddie's constant teasing about his dates always got under his skin. It’s why he mostly stopped bringing girls over, but Megan had insisted they couldn’t go to her place because her mom was always home. She didn't want to risk getting caught in his car.

So he brought her home to let his house ghost judge his moves.

What was his life, anyway?

Despite his irritation, Eddie was his best friend, alive or not, and Steve didn’t want to hurt him.

"Shit, Eddie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"But you did, Steve. And you're right. I haven't even kissed anyone. All I know is from those cheesy movies you secretly watch."

Steve gave Eddie a faint smile. "Oh my God, that was once. Maybe twice. And no one was supposed to know."

Eddie looked up at him, his big brown eyes still sad. "Who would I even tell? You're the only one who can see me. Don't worry your pretty head, Stevie, I'll take all your secrets to my grave."

Now it was Steve's turn to look sad, all his earlier giddiness from making out with Megan gone.

"This isn't funny, man." Steve's voice broke, and that finally snapped Eddie out of his strange mood.

Eddie approached, hand hovering over Steve’s arm, like he wanted to touch but couldn’t. Steve knew he couldn’t.

Eddie couldn’t touch him because Eddie was a ghost. He was dead, with no body to touch Steve with. They had tried, when they first met, and several times since. It never worked, just a cold whisper against his skin, but nothing substantial.

"Sorry," Eddie mumbled, looking contrite.

"It's fine. I just want to be alone for a bit, though. Please."

"Sure, Stevie. I’ll just… go, I guess. See you later?"

Steve forced himself to smile at Eddie to show him everything was okay between them. "Yeah, definitely. We still have to watch the new Star Wars movie, right?"

"Right. Just call when you're ready, and I'll see if I can fit you in."

With that, Eddie disappeared to wherever ghosts go when they’re not here. Steve still had no idea how it all worked, just that Eddie always came when he called.

The one time he didn’t, after a particularly bad fight—the worst they’d ever had—Steve had a panic attack. He had been alone at the time, as had become more and more usual for him. It was the only time Steve swears he felt Eddie, who had hugged him as tight as he could, begging him to ‘breathe, Stevie, please, just breathe, pleasepleaseplease.’

After that, Eddie had always been there as soon as Steve said his name, even when they were fighting.

Steve lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

He wondered what had changed between him and Eddie, when it stopped being so easy. He had known Eddie since he was six years old, when his parents and he moved into this house.

It was a hot summer day, and Steve had been hiding in his room, playing with his toy cars, when a voice behind him startled him. “What’re you doing there?” the voice had asked, and when Steve turned around, a little boy around his age was standing behind him.

They both had been lonely up until they met. Steve, a shy boy in a new neighborhood, found it hard to make friends. Eddie, a ghost with no memory of how he died, had been wandering the house for what felt like an eternity. They became best friends quickly, finding solace in each other's company. Strangely, Eddie seemed to grow up alongside Steve, his ghostly form aging in tandem with Steve’s living body.

They played together, laughed together, and shared secrets no one else would understand. Eddie was there for Steve’s first day of school, his first crush, and his first heartbreak. They spent countless nights talking about their dreams and fears, their bond growing stronger with each passing year. Despite the oddity of their friendship, it felt natural to them—an unbreakable connection that transcended the boundaries of life and death.

But lately, something had shifted. The effortless camaraderie they once shared now felt strained. Steve couldn’t pinpoint when it started, but he missed the easy days of their childhood when everything made sense and nothing seemed impossible.

Steve knew that it wasn’t just Eddie who was responsible for the new tension between them. It was Steve who had fallen in love with his dead friend.

It all started when he was thirteen. He had woken up to the strange feeling of being watched, and when he opened his eyes, he caught Eddie leaning over him, his translucent lips pressed against Steve’s. Before he could try to kiss back, Eddie had jumped away.

Eddie had apologized profusely, telling Steve he’d just been curious. He said it always looked so magical in the movies when people kissed, and he wanted to know what it was all about. Nothing more—it didn’t mean anything.

Too bad it meant a great deal to Steve. It had been his first kiss, and he didn’t even feel it.

A week later, when he kissed Tina to see if it would cause the same flutter of butterflies in his stomach, Eddie had caught them. Steve would never forget the look on his face.

Steve had apologized, even though he didn’t know what he’d done wrong—just that Eddie was hurting, and it was somehow his fault.

Eddie had been cold and distant, acting aloof and laughing in Steve’s face. He mocked him, saying he was already training to become a man-whore, asking if he’d kiss anything with a pulse and without.

That had been their first fight, and even though they made up afterward, things started to change.

The room was dimly lit, the glow from the TV screen casting flickering shadows on the walls. Steve and Eddie were sprawled on the couch, watching the latest Star Wars movie. Despite the tension between them, movie nights had remained a cherished ritual.

Steve’s dating life had become the elephant in the room, a sore topic between them that neither he nor Eddie wanted to address.

As the film progressed, a romantic scene between Leia and Han Solo unfolded. The characters on screen leaned in for a kiss, and Steve felt a familiar pang in his chest. He glanced at Eddie, who was watching intently, his expression unreadable.

The scene ended, and Steve felt the words bubbling up before he could stop them. "You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could have felt it when you kissed me."

Eddie turned to him, his translucent form shimmering slightly. "Steve, I—"

"I know you were just curious," Steve interrupted, his eyes fixed on the screen. "But it meant something to me. It was my first kiss, and I wanted it to be you, but I also wanted to feel it."

Eddie’s expression softened, a mixture of regret and sorrow in his eyes. "I’m sorry, Stevie. I didn’t know it would mean so much to you. I never wanted to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted."

Steve sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I know. It’s just… I’ve thought about it a lot. Wondered what it would have been like if you were—if you weren’t—"

"If I weren’t dead," Eddie finished for him, a bitter smile on his lips.

"Yeah," Steve admitted, feeling a lump form in his throat. "If you were alive, things might have been different."

Eddie moved closer, his ghostly presence sending a chill down Steve’s spine. "I wish things were different too," he said softly. "But I’m still here, Stevie. Maybe not in the way you want, but I’m here."

Steve turned to face Eddie, their eyes locking. "I know. And I’m grateful for that. It’s just hard sometimes, knowing what we could have had."

When Steve meets Eleven, he's trying to protect the kids—his kids, in a weird way—from monsters that came from another dimension. A ghost he’s in love with living in his house is no longer the strangest thing happening in his life.

They sat in silence for a moment, the movie playing on in the background, both lost in their thoughts.

When El and Chief Hopper disappear inside the lab to close the portal, they all listen in through the walkie Dustin insisted El take with them.

They hear her scream, they listen to her win, and then the tearful cheering from her and Hopper.

"You did it, Kiddo. I knew you could do it. Come on, let’s get outta here," Chief Hopper says, sounding prouder than Steve's dad ever did. But then again, Steve never saved the world, so maybe that’s fair.

His heart stops at El’s next words.

"Wait, Dad. We need to save Eddie first."

Eddie.

We need to save Eddie first.

"Who’s Eddie?" Hopper asks, and Steve snatches the walkie from Dustin, not wanting to miss a single word.

"He's another boy like me, but he's asleep. Always asleep. They somehow take his energy from him to power their weird experiments. I don’t know how it works, just that he’s lying in this room all alone. We can’t leave him here, Dad. We can’t."

Steve’s mind races, trying to process what he’s hearing. Could it be the same Eddie? His Eddie?

"Eddie," Steve murmurs, gripping the walkie tighter. "Eddie, if you can hear me, we're coming for you. Hold on."

The group falls silent, the gravity of El's revelation sinking in. Steve's heart pounds in his chest, hope and fear swirling inside him. The ghost he loves might not be a ghost at all, but a boy trapped in a nightmare, waiting to be saved.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddieangstyaugust #my writing

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itsthewritergal · 10 months ago

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Please can I hold you? - Bucky.Barnes x Reader

Hello my loves,

I'm trying to be better this year at writing.

Summary: Y/N leaves, and Bucky tries his hardest to fix it.

TW: Kissing, trauma, family trauma, shouting, swearing, (let me know if I've missed some)

January 1st, it was supposed to be their year. They had promised each other that this was it, Bucky and Y/N. Bucky had promised no more long missions away from Y/N, Y/N had promised that she would move in with Bucky so they could finally spend more time together. A good year was what they wanted, what they deserved, what they needed. But here they were screaming at each other over Bucky not kissing Y/N at midnight. Y/N had explained to Bucky multiple times that she was at the edge, she couldn’t cope anymore with arguing, and whilst Bucky never admitted it, he hated it just as much, if not more than Y/N. Yet here they were.

“And another thing, I didn’t even want to go to Nat’s stupid New Year’s eve party” Bucky screamed ‘I wanted to be at home with you’ was the bit he failed to include in his insult.

“You told me you wanted to be with people you loved on New Year’s Eve, I thought it would be fun” She shouted back “You think it was fun for me? Because it fucking wasn’t. All I wanted to do was come home, the whole night, but you wanted to keep drinking” She seethed, Bucky wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He didn’t want to drink, but he stupidly got caught up in the party.

“Now you’re going to get at me for drinking? Like you don’t do it every single weekend” He shouted, “Thor never brings that fucking mead, I deserved to have a nice night” He was being mean intentionally, but he couldn’t stop.

“I never said you didn’t Buck” She said her voice suddenly quieter, Bucky should have noticed it was because she was getting upset but he didn’t.

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been working? I just wanted one nice night” Bucky should have stopped himself, he knows he should stop but he couldn’t. He was angry at himself for not putting his foot down and saying he wanted to spend time with just Y/N.

“One nice night?” Y/N parroted “The nights we have aren’t nice? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No! You’re twisting my words” Bucky snapped, he spoke with insecurity but it came across as anger and Y/N didn’t like that

“Because I’m the bad guy right? James Bucky Barnes can’t put a foot wrong, but I can. That’s all I do right?” Y/N said, her fears coming to the surface. The insecurity was all from her messed up childhood, Bucky knew that from their late night chats, when they’d lay next to each other and confess everything, but he didn’t realise that the fear was seeping into their relationship.

“That’s not what this is about” Bucky said realising suddenly how far he had taken the fight, and how distraught Y/N was becoming

“Isn’t it?” Y/N snapped, her eyes locked onto Bucky as a target.

“You’re making this worse than it needs to be” Bucky said, unknowingly adding more fuel to the fire

“Yeah that’s me isn’t it? Making everything worse. Don’t worry Buck, I get it” She snapped turning away from Bucky

“Where the hell are you going?” He called after her

“Downstairs Buck, I need some space away from you right now” She stormed out of their bedroom and down the stairs. Bucky sat down on their bed with his head in his hands, he had just fucked everything up.

Taking a deep breath Bucky decided to set an alarm for 10 minutes, and once it had gone off he would go and speak to Y/N calmly about his feelings. That was how they were going to fix it. He knew he had messed up but he would fix it.

Y/N stood in their hallway, and listened to Bucky close their bedroom door. She knew she had blown things out of proportion, she had made things worse. The little voice in her head told her she had messed things up seriously this time. There was no coming back from this. Bucky hated her, she knew that much. The thought along was enough to almost break her, pulling on her trainers she left the house silently, following the little voice down the streets. She twisted and turned around the streets she used to love walking with Bucky, but now they just felt like they were taunting her as she remembered the kisses they had shared at the bus stop, and the stray cat they had wanted to adopt by the street corner. She couldn’t cope with it, so she began to run.

The wind blew in her ears, the kind of fierce that stopped her from having to think, it was dark and the street lamps did little to ease her discomfort. She was on her way home, in the desperate hope that Bucky was asleep, or at Steve’s or Sam’s. She had no idea of the time, having left her phone at home in Bucky’s jacket pocket most likely, but she sent a silent prayer to the sky that it was late enough that Bucky wouldn’t still be around. She couldn’t face him, not after everything she had done. Her mother was right, she wasn’t made for relationships, she would always mess them up, and now she had screwed up the only good thing she had going for her. This was it. She was done. Y/N didn’t notice the way her hands shivered a little with the cold biting wind, with her furious mood and growing insecurity she had forgotten a coat. As she turned onto her and Bucky’s street the tears started again, this really was the end. Her and Bucky were about to be done, finished, ended.

So much for their year. She mused to herself silently, revelling in the cruel twist of fate, her mother was right.

Pushing the handle of the door down quietly, in the hope to not wake Bucky if he was in, Y/N creaked the door open. She took a shaky step into the house, listening out for Bucky. When she was satisfied that there was no sound of him she closed the door behind her and took off her shoes.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s shaky voice called out, she froze. “Baby?” He said coming into the hall, Y/N put her hand back on the door handle, she was ready to run again, this was not a conversation she was ready to have.

“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again” He said wrapping his arms around her tensed body, Y/N kept herself tensed, she was ready to run if she needed.

“I know you’re scared, I know you think you’ve messed this all up but I swear to you this whole argument is on me” he said refusing to let her out of his embrace,

“Bucky stop” she said quietly

“I’m sorry” He said dropping his arms, she looked up at him with red eyes “Could you come and sit down in the lounge for me?” He asked

“I should go”

“No” Bucky said “You’re going to come and sit down and we are going to talk about this, because we are bigger than your insecurities and we are going to fix this” he said,

“Oh,” Y/N said “oh” She repeated once the words had settled into her head “You aren’t breaking up with me?”

“Come on doll, come sit down for me?” He said

“Ok” She said, following Bucky through their house.

Y/N settled herself into an armchair, where she could curl her legs up underneath herself. Bucky opted for the sofa opposite her, picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to touch him just yet.

“Before we start, the next time you need to get away you tell me where you’re going. I was terrified doll, I know the kind of people that are out there and if you need space, please let me come with you. I promise I won’t walk beside you or speak to you but I need to know you are safe.” Bucky said “Please?”

“I’m sorry Buck” She said,

“No apologies. We have to make mistakes to fix them for the future yeah?” He said

“I don think I can do this Bucky. All your friends hate me, I invited you to a party you didn’t want to be at, I asked you to cut down your missions. Everything I do, makes me the issue in this relationship” She said,

“That’s not true, everyone loves you—”

“No they don’t, they put up with me”

“No, no, Y/N. Please don’t do this. I know you’re spiralling, I know that you’ve always been made to believe that its your fault. But I swear to you this one is on me. I wanted to spend New Years Eve with just you. I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I fucked up. I got drunk and neglected you. You should have been my priority at midnight, not that stupid drink”

“I should’ve let you have fun” Y/N said

“No, I should have kissed you” Bucky said, his tone was final and Y/N didn’t want to argue anymore.

“I didn’t deserve it”

“You don’t have to earn love” Bucky said, moving to the carpeted space in front of Y/N’s armchair, taking Y/N’s hands in his he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles “I love you, I want to spend my life with you and I will spend every single moment apologising to you for the way I acted”

“I’m sorry for saying all those mean things Buck” Y/N said “I didn’t mean them I just wanted to make myself the bad person so you could hate me. I wanted you to hate me”

“Why did you want that?” Bucky asked after pressing another kiss to her hand

“So you’d end things, so my fears could come true. It’s sadistic, but I guess I’m always just waiting for the end so I just wanted it to happen. Like ripping a bandage off”

“Oh Y/N” Bucky said gently “You never have to be scared of me leaving. We will always work through our issues, you’re my life. You’re my world, this is it for me.”

“So you’re not waiting for me to fuck up so you can leave?”

“No, I’m not” Bucky said

“I’m sorry” she whispered

“No more apologies” Bucky whispered “Please let me hold you baby? We can talk more in the morning I promise. But right now I just need to hold you”

“You never need to ask”

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky x you

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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months ago

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Wildest Dream

(A/N): This is the crackies of crack fics. Enjoy.

Summary: Oscar's girlfriend draws the line when it comes to his bunny teeth. Even in her dreams.

Warnings: None. Just pure crack.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ______________________________

(Y/N) admits that her dreams are wild. Not weird. Wild is the only word that really fits. For her it has been like that since her early childhood days. It seems like every tiny impression she collects during the day gets sorted and thought about during her sleeping time.

Sometimes upon waking up, she immediately tells Oscar what happened in her vivid dreams, always giving him a good laugh and earning herself another warm hug in bed. It’s a good trade off in their opinion.

Although, other times (Y/N) is not able to differentiate between dreams and the reality, too caught up in the emotions that have been brought up to actually wake up and take her surroundings in. Which is a thing that Oscar has yet to see actually happen.

Another night of falling asleep cuddling her Australian koala close to her after he finally came home from the latest race weekend and him yapping about how one of his engineers got a teeth transplant and couldn’t be present this time around. During his in depth description of the procedure, (Y/N) only thought about how adorable Oscar’s front bunny teeth are. His soothing voice brings her into a land of dreams, even if he is talking about cutting out teeth.

Instead of listening to Oscar, she finds herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by white walls. The cream colored sheets are scratchy against her skin, making her want to claw them away the moment she realizes this sensation. But another man’s voice momentarily distracts her.

“The procedure was a success in all departments. We couldn’t be happier with the results,” A man in a white coat and glasses congratulates (Y/N), his eyes glued to a clipboard before smiling at her enthusiastically. But the young woman is even more confused now. “What procedure?” This question brings out a frown out of the middle aged man. He takes a small light out of his pocket and shines it into her eyes, blinding (Y/N) for a second. “It looks like the anesthesia hasn’t worn off completely yet. Miss, you got a new set of front teeth transplants. You knocked them out during a racing incident, don’t you remember?”

The young woman tries really hard to remember, but nothing the doctor says seems to ring a bell or shake a tambourine. It starts to concern herself, but she trusts the medical professional more than her own anxious feelings. After all, it does make sense that she somehow knocked her own teeth out by getting into an accident. She probably doesn’t remember it because of the traumatic experience. Good to know she has her teeth repaired, something she does not have to worry about anymore.

“Oscar. I want to see Oscar. Can you please bring me to my Oscar? He is easy to spot. A lanky, really awkward guy with brown hair. Cute eyes, don’t ask me the eye color. Whenever I try to actually look into them to find it out, I get lost. But it’s not a bad thing, his eyes are my favorite labyrinth. Oh, OH! Don’t forget about his adorable smile. It’s my favorite thing about Oscar, because it shows his cute bunny teeth. Ugh, I love them so so much. Have you seen that guy?” Shamelessly gushing about her boyfriend is something (Y/N) would have still done without being under the influence of anesthesia, but it still makes her tongue lighter.

The doctor nods a bit awkwardly. “He is in the waiting room. The poor boy wasn’t able to settle down at all during the operation. I’m going to get you some water and let him know you are expecting him.”

Now (Y/N) is kind of panicking. She wants nothing more than to see her boyfriend. But she apparently just came out of a procedure. Is she looking presentable? Will he be disgusted by her current appearance? Is there any blood left?

Maybe being worried about this is dumb, but this whole situation is so bizarre to (Y/N), she does not want any more problems, especially none regarding the love of her life.

There is a short knock on the door, to which the young woman quickly calls for the person to enter the room. Her breathtakingly cute Oscar pops in. “Osc! Look! I got a new tooth implant!”

Her excitement makes him smile his polite cat smile. He steps closer to the bed and strokes her cheek. “I knof. Who do you fink gave you hif teef?” Suddenly (Y/N) sees his front teeth missing. The cute bunny teeth that made her lighten up in any situation.

She can’t comprehend it. How can Oscar even dare to get rid of them. She surely could have gotten some new teeth elsewhere. But his audacity to just take his own out? Unbelievable. A big burst of anger makes its way into her chest.

(Y/N) sits up in her bed. The hospital room is gone, she is back in her shared bedroom with Oscar moving up next to her. He must have taken her home after she fell asleep because of the anesthesia again.

“Oh, good morning, Darling”, he greets her in his raspy morning voice. But she just ignores him and gets up swiftly to get dressed for the day. (Y/N) is still mad in a way she can’t put into words.

Which leaves the Australian in a confused state. What did he do to her? Did he kick her in his sleep again? Steal the blanket?

He tries to approach her again in the kitchen, seeing her prepare breakfast. He hugs her from behind, trying to swing them both from side to side. But (Y/N) is having none of it. She shakes him off and takes a step aside, earning a puzzled glance from him. “Hey, Baby. Why are you mad at me?”

She continues to ignore him, taking her plate and already prepared drink out onto the balcony. Oscar looks at the counter, missing his own plate. Usually, when he is home from racing, (Y/N) makes breakfast for the two of them. Apparently not today.

Sighing, he makes himself a plate of food and cleans up the kitchen before following his girlfriend. The young woman is already scrolling on her phone while slowly eating without waiting for him.

“(Y/N), please talk to me. What did I do wrong to make you this angry? How can I make it better?” Oscar is borderline pleading with her, just wanting to know what happened. He already misses his affectionate girlfriend.

“Take your teeth back and I will stop being mad at you. How can you even get to the dumb idea, giving me your teeth for a transplant.”

Her outburst takes him aback for a quick second. “Which teeth? I got all of mine and you got all of yours.” This makes (Y/N) halt in her own track. She looks at his mouth, which he opens up just for her to check his claim. Then she checks her own mouth.

“But, but you gave me your cute bunny teeth for a transplant, because I lost mine in a car accident or crash or so. How-” Her question is cut off by Oscar’s hearty laugh. This gets an immediate pout from her, which makes him want nothing more than to just kiss it away immediately.

“Darling, you dreamt that. You didn’t get a transplant and I didn’t give you anything. Even though I’m willing to give you all of me John Legend style, I know you wouldn’t appreciate me getting them taken out for you.” He pulls her into a tight embrace, which she finally succumbs to and even returns, straddling his hips to get even closer to him, becoming the koala in the relationship for once.

(Y/N) hides her face in his chest. “Oh no. I am so so sorry. It just somehow made sense to me. How can I make it up to you?” She whines, looking up with doe eyes at him.

Oscar is capable of many things. But being mad at his girlfriend is not one of them. “Mhhh, how about a kiss?” Quickly (Y/N) follows his request, pressing her lips to his, a mile erupting on Oscar’s face at her eagerness. They get lost in the moment, pressing gentle kisses to each other’s lips.

“Did you just lick over my teeth?” “I needed to make sure!”

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #x reader #x fem!reader

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catherinetheprincessofwales · 2 months ago

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James Middleton: Kate, William and the dog that saved my life. The younger brother of the Princess of Wales was so depressed he came close to killing himself. Then Ella, his faithful cocker spaniel, stepped in — and even found him a wife. He tells Matt Rudd about his ‘waste of money’ education, family therapy and the help Prince William gave him. The Sunday Times, 22 Sep 2024.

I’m in a cottage on a farm with the brother of the Princess of Wales and his eyes are filling with tears. He has a cocker spaniel called Luna on his lap and I have a cocker spaniel called Inka on my lap. Both dogs are looking anxiously at their owner as he tries to tell me about the death of their mother, Ella. It could be a bit awkward when a man you’ve only just met starts getting very emotional about a dog that died nearly two years ago. Instead it’s the moment I realise James Middleton isn’t exaggerating. A dog really did save his life.

On a winter’s night in late 2017, Middleton climbed a ladder to the roof above his parents’ flat in Chelsea and contemplated suicide. Overwhelmed by feelings of failure, he had decided that the labour of living was no longer worth the effort. As his thoughts spiralled, it was only the sight of Ella, watching him carefully through the skylight, that gave him pause. How could he leave her, he wondered.

Over weeks and months Middleton had isolated himself from family and friends, ignoring increasingly desperate phone calls and texts. When his sister Pippa came to the door, he would hide in his room. When he tried to go to work, he got as far as the car park and then drove home again.

“I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t sleep, I was constantly agitated,” he says. “If I sat down I had to stand up again immediately. I couldn’t eat because I felt constantly as if I were about to throw up. What was most challenging was that I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. It wasn’t living, it was just existing in this awful state of anxiety.”

As his mental health crisis deepened, it was only Ella and the routine of looking after her that kept him going. “I was never alone in a time when I felt very lonely,” he says, stroking Inka’s ears. “I’m surprised there weren’t marks on the carpet from the laps I was doing, but she would sort of get in the way. It was a silent interruption, but for a fraction of a second it would stop the spiralling. “Something was taking over my mind, but not knowing what it was made it very difficult to talk about. And I didn’t feel as though I had a right to be depressed because I’ve had everything, because I am privileged.”

We are meeting today, I should mention, at Bucklebury Farm Park, a genteel sheep-petting outfit plus farm shop (excellent organic pesto) at the more desirable end of Berkshire. It is owned by his sister Pippa Matthews née Middleton and her hedgie husband, James, who is, among other things, the next laird of Glen Affric. Carole and Michael Middleton, parents to James, Pippa and Catherine, live in a manor house a stone’s throw away and Middleton’s own farm, which he bought from the parents of a prep school friend mid-pandemic, is a mile over there. It’s quite the empire.

Now married to the French financier Alizée Thevenet and father to 11-month-old Inigo, Middleton is happy to talk about his annus horribilis and his dog-assisted recovery. He does so at book-length in Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life. But it’s a good question: what does someone born into such wealth and privilege have to be depressed about?

The roots of his 2017 crisis can be found, like most roots of crises, in childhood. Born in 1987, the same year his mother set up the mail-order company Party Pieces, he followed his two older sisters to Marlborough. If the prestigious boarding school demanded academic excellence and his parents expected it, both were to be disappointed. Diagnosed with dyslexia then, and with attention deficit disorder when he finally sought help in 2017, he struggled where his sisters had excelled.

“School is about comparing yourself to others,” he says, recalling how he would avoid friends phoning to compare exam results in the summer holidays. “I didn’t feel despair when I failed because it happened so often, but I was embarrassed. I felt let down because I didn’t think that those results properly represented me.”

In the early chapters of the book he charts his struggles with expectation — his mother is frequently in tears, his father just as frequently exasperated. Even without VAT, it must have taken a large chunk of the trust fund established by Michael’s grandmother, the heiress Olive Middleton, to put his son through Marlborough. When that son had to spend a gap year retaking his A-level chemistry four times, a “humiliating record” for the school, he tells him his education was “a waste of money”.

Although today Middleton studiously avoids criticising his school or his beloved parents — he learnt valuable survival skills at Marlborough, he tells me, and “Mum and Dad just wanted the best for me” — the pressure was clearly intense. He sought escape from that pressure in nature and in dogs. “I was an outcast … alienated from my classmates,” he writes. “But dogs never judged me. Mum asked repeatedly if I wanted to bring friends home to stay at weekends. But truthfully all I wanted to do was to see Tilly.”

Tilly was the family’s golden retriever, but from an early age Middleton was desperate for his own dog. His parents, on the other hand, continued to be desperate for him to succeed. And so, after that long summer of resits, he squeaked into Edinburgh University, choosing criminology, environmental studies and geography modules because he was “pretty certain they would all be multiple choice”. They weren’t, of course, and he failed his first-year exams. More crying from Mum, more exasperation from Dad, more solace from a dog, this time his own.

“For all my reservations, I shall be eternally grateful for the time I spent in Edinburgh because it is thanks to Ben, a university friend, that I find my adored dog Ella,” he writes, introducing us to the dog that saved his life. Despite his best efforts, puppies and student life are not compatible, and when he was banned from bringing Ella to lectures he finally abandoned his studies. “I knew that if I left university I’d be responsible for that decision,” he says. “It was a big step, but I had Ella with me, as my companion and my responsibility.”

Middleton’s story is not exactly Angela’s Ashes. When he announces that he is ditching his degree to become an entrepreneur in London, he is cut off, he tells us, from the Bank of Mum and Dad, but he can still move in with his sisters at the family’s flat in Chelsea. His uncle Gary Goldsmith, he of Celebrity Big Brother 2024 notoriety, is also on hand to invest in his cake kit start-up. Nobody in this story is going to find themselves on the street.

But cynics desist! Don’t underestimate the impact of parental expectation, nor of not conforming to the traditional model of success. Middleton, anxious and increasingly socially uncomfortable, had left his friends in Edinburgh and washed up in London with his dog.

“She was my shield,” he says. “Through her I could enjoy things. I could take her for a walk and see what she was seeing. I process a lot of things in my mind and that can be overwhelming, but she helped me open my eyes and realise everything was OK.”

There are, I’m sure, many advantages to being royal adjacent, but when his sister Catherine started dating Prince William in 2004, Middleton found the level of media interest “shocking”. A young man who used his dog as an excuse to leave parties early was not equipped for the spotlight, for stepping out of the flat into a sea of flashing cameras.

“I’d never seen a royal wedding,” he says, rather sweetly. “There hadn’t been one in my lifetime. Not a big one anyway. I wasn’t aware of the scale or the global interest. I just felt privileged that my sister was asking me to do it, and it meant something to her. I wanted to make sure I did it.”

His description of the intense amount of practice he put in to the reading is like a potted version of The King’s Speech — he stutters, he stumbles, he takes lessons with the voice coach Anthony Gordon Lennox, he reads nervously and then more confidently to an audience of one dog — Ella, of course — in Chelsea Old Church. And then it’s the big day. “Really, the build-up to Catherine’s wedding was no different to Pippa’s or other friends’ weddings,” he says, unbelievably. Just the family, 1,900 guests, Her Majesty, an archbishop and a few world leaders. Watching the recording back today, there’s no hint of nerves — Middleton, 24 at the time, gives a bravura performance. Afterwards an American production company wrote to ask if he’d like to star in his own film — their opening offer was $1 million.

“They even ventured,” he writes wryly, “that members of my wider family might like to take part.” Middleton is not unaware of how everything is distorted by his proximity to royalty.

On the surface the next few years of Middleton’s life read like a Hello! magazine special — parties, holidays on Mustique, holidays in the Alps, a blossoming relationship with a glamorous older woman (the actress Donna Air, about whom his parents were hesitant because of the eight-year age gap), weekends at Sandringham (“Did you get my message, James?” the Queen asked the first time he visited. “Ella is welcome to stay in your room.”) But then came the night of despair in pyjamas on a Chelsea rooftop. Long sessions of cognitive behavioural therapy followed with a psychiatrist who was happy for Ella to attend too. She was, Middleton says, the only reason he kept going.

In December 2017, his mental health still fragile, he left London without telling anyone and holed up in a remote cottage in the Lake District. While his family grew frantic with worry, much to his irritation (“I’m a grown man”), he describes three days of elemental existence — fetching firewood and water, heating soup, walking Ella and her two pups. For the first time in a year he enjoyed a deep sleep and, in front of the fire after a wild swim with his dogs, he felt fleetingly happy.

“Dogs are amazing,” he says and all five of the dogs in the cottage with us — three spaniels and two beautiful golden retrievers — look delighted. “They do just sense things. Ella had been with me in every therapy session, she was always with me. I think we can learn from dogs. They’re not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. They’re not even thinking about the next couple of hours. They’re thinking about right now. I’m here, they’re here, in the moment.”

As Middleton’s recovery continued, he says his sisters understood — they both had friends who had depression — but his parents struggled. “They were uncomfortable with the fact that I’d been labelled ‘clinically depressed’,” he writes. “To people of their generation, I can understand why it was concerning. Society was only just starting to break through the stigma.”

The solution, in the end, was to invite the family to the therapy sessions. “I felt guilty because I knew they were worried,” he says. “They felt guilty because it’s really hard if you’re not able to help the people you love the most. I was finally understanding how I felt but I got nervous trying to translate that to my family without the help of an interpreter. When they came into the sessions they had the opportunity to ask questions that I couldn’t necessarily answer.”

In the 13 years since Catherine’s wedding Middleton’s hair has receded a little, but he now has a beard for balance — a little twirl of his moustaches and he could be a not-too-distant cousin of Tsar Nicholas II. He probably is — this generation of Middletons is not the first to hang out with royalty. He looks less bright and bushy-tailed than he did in 2011, but that might be fatherhood or the weekend with friends he has just returned from in Norfolk. Or it might simply be the passing of enough eventful years.

Whatever it is, he tells me he is now happy, which, given the depths of his depression, he still finds extraordinary. His idea of what constitutes success has changed — he is no longer motivated by money but by the things in life about which he is passionate. He doesn’t even like the word entrepreneur any more.

Having stepped away from Boomf, a marshmallow delivery company (Boomf is the sound a marshmallow makes falling from a letterbox), he started James & Ella, a “premium freeze-dried raw dog food” company in 2020. He clearly finds it easier to be passionate about dogs than marshmallows. But it’s in his personal life that the change has been most dramatic.

“I remember sitting in the therapist’s chair with Ella’s head on my lap, wondering how long it was going to take to get better,” he says. “But within a year I had met my future wife. And we’re now here with an 11-month-old son, living on a farm with six dogs. If someone had told me that would happen, I’d have been annoyed. It would have just seemed so ridiculous.”

He met Thevenet, 34, at a members club in South Kensington, west London, in 2018. Ella, having actively disapproved of several previous girlfriends, broke the ice by going over to her table. They married in the south of France in 2021 (a Hello! magazine world exclusive, naturally) and Ella was a flower girl. And everyone lived happily ever after.

Except, alas, the dog. It is one of life’s cruelties that man’s best friend has a much shorter life expectancy than man. Just asking Middleton about the death of Ella, early one Saturday in January 2023, makes him emotional. Despite being given two weeks to live the previous September, she had made it through Christmas, perhaps buoyed by the thought of one final week in the Alps. Of course Middleton was with her when she took her last breath at 3am. The whole family, including William and Catherine, gathered in his parents’ garden for what sounds like an extensive memorial on the Sunday.

“Saying goodbye to Ella was not just saying goodbye to her as a dog,” Middleton says. “It was everything I’d been through with her. She had arrived just as I was starting out in my twenties and she was leaving as I’d finally figured things out in my mid-thirties. She put me on the right path and I didn’t want another day from her. I didn’t want another hour. I would have loved it but I didn’t need it. “She was sent to me before I even knew I needed her, but she chose me. She was able to transform my life better than any human could have done and then she put me in the capable hands of someone and together we’re now raising our own family.”

Eight days after Ella was buried in her favourite sheepskin, Alizée interrupted Middleton’s mourning to announce that she was pregnant. He is convinced Ella knew and that her death was a kind of passing of the torch. His son, Inigo, was born last autumn. “I hope there’s an Ella who will find Inigo, if there’s a time in his life when he needs it,” he says, as one of the golden retrievers has a long stretch.

If you’re not a dog person, you might find this cosmic canine intervention a bit much. Whether Ella was the ultimate therapist or a very effective placebo, it worked for Middleton. His sisters’ families are also fully invested in the joys of cocker spaniels — Pippa has one of Ella’s sons and Catherine, whose announcement of the end of her chemotherapy treatment comes a few days after this interview, now has one of Ella’s granddaughters — no corgis to date. Middleton himself now regards his mental health crisis as a blessing. “Although I would never wish it on anybody and I would never want to go through it again, I’m pleased it happened. It was an opportunity to recalibrate and to re-evaluate what matters.” Happiness, he says, is what matters. Happiness and lots of dogs. Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life by James Middleton (Radar £22).

#ktd #middleton family #James middleton #meet ella #mental health #mental heath support #mental heath awareness #Sunday times #Dogs #dog #doggo #dogs of tumblr #dogblr #puppy

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snowysosturn · 3 months ago

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Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, unhappy relationship, mentions of hangover, angst

The start of the new semester at UCLA brought a sense of urgency and routine that clashed with my internal chaos. Alex was excited, his schedule packed with classes and Bruins practice. Meanwhile, I struggled to shake off the lingering thoughts about Matt and Emily from the party, the Instagram follow, and my relationship dying out. I couldn’t tell anymore if my embarrassment was first or second hand. But today was a new day, and I had to focus.

I made Alex a protein-packed breakfast this morning, I had the day off so I had the time. “Thanks y/n” Alex said as he gave me a pat on the back. A pat on the back. He took the last few bites of his meal and grabbed the keys to the car. “I’m not too sure what time I’ll be back tonight, I’ll text to let you know” Alex said as I walked behind him to the front door. I saw him off as he walked down the steps to the driveway. “Aw shit” I hear him exclaim, realizing one of his tyres had burst. "Great, just what I needed," he muttered. Alex and I shared a car, it was originally mine, but I let Alex put it in his name as he needs to get around more than I do. So in simpler terms, Alex has a car that I’m able to drive once a month at least.

"Take my phone and book an Uber," I offered, handing it to him. "I'll figure out the tyre later."

He accepted my phone with a grateful nod and quickly booked the ride. As he waited, I heard my phone ping. A familiar sound, from Instagram.

“Matthew Sturniolo (@matthew.sturniolo) has requested to follow you”

"Hey, looks like Matt wants to follow you," Alex said, showing me the screen with a chuckle. "Guess he enjoyed your company at the party."

My heart jumped, a burning sensation flushed through my body. Why did this have to happen when Alex has my phone.

I tried to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, probably. We did talk quite a bit. I got along well with Nick too”

Alex shrugged, accepting the request before handing the phone back. "Alright, my ride's here. See you tonight."

"See you" I replied, watching him head out the door. Not a kiss to say goodbye or anything.

The day passed slowly, my thoughts constantly drifting to Matt's follow request. It felt like a lifeline, a connection I desperately wanted but also feared.

—————————————————————————

As the evening approached, I texted Alex to let him know the tyre was fixed if he wanted me to pick him up whenever he was ready. He replied saying he had an evening free and he we was going to Uber home with Emily to hang out. They had figured out they were taking the same classes and were coming back to organize a few things for the current semester.

Alex and Emily arrived at our apartment. Alex seemed in good spirits despite the tire mishap. “We have a school trip to Barcelona in 4 weeks, Europe! How exciting!” Emily said with joy. “We decided it would be easier to come back here and look at flights together if you don’t mind helping us y/n, I know you’re good with all of that.” Alex suggested. For some weird reason this lit a fire in my stomach. I knew I was being stupid since it was for a school trip, but it bothered me how eager he was to organize everything. It was almost like pulling teeth anytime I tried to organize a trip with him. After an hour of searching, I found the cheapest flights for them and everything was booked.

"I'm going to hit the sack early," he said after a while. "Practice starts tomorrow."

"Alright, good night," I said, trying to sound casual.

Emily and I were left alone in the living room. An awkward silence settled between us, punctuated by the occasional sound of Alex moving around in the bedroom. I knew I needed to break the ice, and I also had an opportunity to see where her and Matt stood with each other after Saturday night's events.

"So, how are things with you and Matt?" I asked

Emily smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Matt's great. I mean, he’s really sweet and all, but sometimes I feel like he’s too good, you know? I also want to apologize to you for how I acted at the party, it was out of line. We’re only newly friends and I don’t want to embarrass myself or make a bad impression. I honestly still have a hangover from it all”

“Friends?” I thought to myself.

“Oh you don’t need to apologize to me at all Emily, it happens” I respond, trying to make her feel better.

“I feel like I get carried away sometimes. I like the attention I get from Matt, but I also love the attention I get from others."

I frowned slightly. "Others?"

She shrugged, taking a sip from her Stanley cup. "Yeah, I mean, Matt has a big following, and being with him means I get noticed too. I love him, but I can’t help enjoying the attention. It's kind of addicting. Did you not notice all of the influencers at the party?”

Her words struck a nerve. How could she be so nonchalant about treating Matt that way? He deserved someone who appreciated him fully, not someone who saw him as a means to boost their own ego.

"Oh, no I didn’t notice" I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Emily glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "It just comes hand in hand with his job. I love him, but I also love being in the spotlight. Is that so wrong?"

I didn't know how to respond. It felt wrong, deeply wrong. Matt deserved someone who loved him for who he was, not for the attention he brought. The more Emily talked, the more I realized she didn’t deserve him. My feelings for Matt, already complicated, grew stronger. He deserved better, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I could be that for him.

As time passed the conversation changed, I found myself genuinely getting along with Emily despite the lingering irritation from her comments about Matt. We chatted about various things like classes, mutual friends, upcoming campus events and even her life in Austin. I can’t lie, she was easy to talk to, and I could see why she was popular. But underneath her charming exterior, her earlier remarks about enjoying attention grated on me.

I knew I had to keep things friendly. Not just for Alex's sake, but for my own. Staying close to Emily meant staying close to Matt. It was a delicate balance, and I was determined to maintain it.

Later that night, Emily glanced at her phone and sighed. "I should probably get going. It's getting late."

"Do you need a ride?" I asked, half hoping she would say yes so I could see Matt again.

"Yeah, I'll ask Matt to come pick me up," she said, typing out a quick message..

Matt’s POV

I rotted away in my room all day Sunday. I needed some time to myself. Emily went back to college early this morning and I hadn’t heard from her since. After nearly 40 hours of sitting in my room, I decided it was time to try to be social again. I left my room and walked straight into the kitchen to find Nick and Chris sat at the kitchen table.

"Rough night Saturday" Nick asked, eyeing me with concern.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "You could say that."

Chris obliviously laughed. "Come on, it couldn't have been that bad."

Nick shot him a look. "Matt, we need to talk about Emily. Her behavior at the party... it wasn't okay."

I nodded, feeling a weight settle on my shoulders. "I know. She's been like this more and more lately."

Nick leaned forward, his expression serious. "You don't deserve to be treated like that. You do so much for her, and it seems like she doesn't appreciate any of it."

Chris, still not fully grasping the gravity of the situation, shrugged. "Girls can be complicated, man."

Nick ignored him, focusing on me. "Look, I know you care about her, but you have to think about yourself too. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and values you."

I sighed, the truth of his words hitting hard. "I keep hoping she'll change, that she'll realize how much I care about her and start treating me better."

Nick frowned. "People don't change unless they want to. And from what I've seen, Emily isn't interested in changing."

There was a moment of silence as we all absorbed the reality of the situation. Nick then changed the topic slightly, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I noticed you got along pretty well with y/n, Alex's girlfriend.."

My mind flashed back to our conversations. There had been an easy connection, a sense of understanding that I hadn't felt with Emily in a long time. "Yeah, she's great. We had some good talks."

Chris, always one to break the tension in the worst possible way, grinned. "And she’s got a fat ass, right?"

Nick groaned, and I shot Chris a look. "Dude, not the time."

Chris held up his hands in surrender. "Just saying."

The mood soured, I stood up, needing to clear my head. "I'm going to bed. Thanks for the talk, guys."

As I made my way back to my room, my phone buzzed. Emily had texted me: "Hey, can you pick me up? I'm at Alex's place."

I sighed, knowing I'd go pick her up despite everything. I couldn't shake the feeling that something had to change, but I wasn’t sure if it would be her or me.

—————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV

"He'll be here in about ten minutes." Emily said, reading out the message from Matt.

My heart danced but I had to maintain my composure.

We continued chatting until Matt's car pulled up outside. Emily grabbed her things, and I walked her to the door.

"Thanks for having me over," she said with a smile. "We should do this more often."

"We should" I replied, forcing a smile. "It was nice."

We stepped outside, and I spotted Matt waiting in his car. As we approached, he got out and walked over, his expression warm but tired.

"Hey, thanks for picking me up," Emily said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"No problem," Matt replied, his eyes briefly meeting mine. "Hi," he added, his smile softening as he looked at me.

"Hi," I responded, feeling a flutter in my chest.

"How was your evening?" Matt questioned.

"It was good," I replied, choosing my words carefully. "Emily and I had a nice time."

"Good to hear," he said, glancing at Emily. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," she replied, but then she turned to me. "We should all hang out together again, the four of us. Maybe we can plan another double date or something."

"Sounds good," I said, knowing that staying close to her meant more opportunities to see Matt.

As Emily climbed into the car, I took a moment to speak to Matt. "Hey, I just wanted to say... if you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here."

Matt looked at me, his eyes searching mine. "Thanks, I appreciate that. And same to you."

Just then, Emily reached over and playfully tugged Matt's arm. "Come on, let's go. I've missed you."

Matt turned to her, his expression softening. "I've missed you too," he said, leaning in to kiss her. Their interaction was sweet and intimate, a stark contrast to the tension I had sensed earlier.

Watching them together, my heart sank. The way Matt looked at her, the way he held her, it made me question everything. Had I misread his kindness? Was I seeing what I wanted to see rather than what was really there?

As they drove away, I stood there for a moment, feeling a mix of confusion and heartache. The connection I thought I had with Matt now felt uncertain, overshadowed by his obvious affection for Emily.

Matts’ POV

The drive to Alex's was quiet, my thoughts a jumble of emotions. When I arrived, Emily was waiting outside, looking a bit worse for wear from her two day hangover but smiling when she saw me.

"Hey, thanks for coming to get me," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"No problem," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. Still wanting to keep my stance that how she acted on Saturday was out of line.

As Emily climbed into the car, y/n turned to me.

“Hey, I just wanted to say... if you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here." I knew fully what she was referring to. Could she relate to me? Or was it just out of pity from the events she witnessed at the party.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. And same to you." We locked eyes for a moment, until Emily tugged at me and instantly broke the contact.

We got into the car and drove off as y/n waved us off. On the ride back home I couldn't help but think about Nick's words and the confusion I felt brewing in me surrounding y/n. Maybe it was time to seriously consider what I wanted and needed in a relationship. Emily had her good moments, but were they enough to outweigh the bad?

Only time would tell..

a/n : i’m rushing out for dinner rn so i will proof read and do tags properly when i’m back i just wanted to get this out asaaaaap. we do go back and forth with the povs here soz. part 6 hopefully tomorrow or sunday!!!!

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @sleepyysavv @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @immattsslut @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69

#snowy speaks #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

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