#it’s black and the only thing he wears anymore

[crowsofdarkness]

You've been braty all evening and suggest a fun game to play with Bucky: Hide and fuck.

18+ CW's below the cut( mask kink, protected pinv since she's on the implant, oral with both male and female receiving, fingering, masturbation, choking, degradation, rope play/bondage, making of a sex tape, rough/possessive sex, and slight voyeurism)

a/n: ok I fully understand that Bucky wearing the mask post winter solider is somewhat traumatic but in this little universe/fic, Bucky is trying to get over the trauma by replacing that feeling of fear with something different.

My breath was unsteady and echoed loud in the confined space I found myself in. Surely Bucky had to be returning to our room soon, it had been hours since I left him at the bar with Steve, now almost ten in the evening. As soon as I came back to our room, I went about showering off the long days filth and slipped into a new piece of lingerie I’d bought a while ago just never found the perfect time to wear it. 

Until now. 

All night, I’d been teasing Bucky by whispering all of the filthy things I wanted him to do to me. More so, I wanted him to chase me and fuck me. Unfortunately even with the size of our room, there still wasn’t enough space for Bucky to hunt me down so I had to settle with a simple game of hide and seek. 

Or as I called it in the text I sent him: hide and fuck. 

I managed to fit myself in the large wardrobe dresser that we had in our room, the ones that were tall enough where I could sit inside of it somewhat comfortably. The scent of my peach perfume, Bucky’s favorite,  clouded around me as I sat with my knees pulled to my chest. Just when I was about to give up, tired of waiting, I heard the insert of a key card into the slot and the door clicking open. I had left the light on in the main area of the hotel room so some of it could cast a light into where I was hiding but with a soft click, everything was blanketed in black. 

Bucky’s back. 

Holding a hand over my mouth, I tried so hard to remain quiet even though I was beyond giddy with excitement that he had agreed to this. I knew that this was also supposed to be a therapeutic exercise for him. A way for him to see himself in his old Hydra mask and come to terms he’s not that person anymore. 

Although he was afraid, we both knew that those words that controlled him were long gone. No longer programmed. Even if he wore the mask tonight, Bucky wouldn’t become the soldier. 

His footsteps were so light, almost nonexistent, as he moved around the room. I could feel his presence as it halted in front of the wardrobe and before I could register what was happening, Bucky ripped open the doors and yanked me from it. 

My body fell to the floor with little damage and I quickly scurried away from Bucky only for his fingers to wrap around my ankle, dragging me back to him. His large body loomed over me, lust filled eyes and his lower half of his face was covered by the mask.  His breathing was all I heard as I stared up at him. He wore nothing but the mask and black briefs, hanging low on his hips. The light colored hairs of his happy trail brought a tender smile to my face. 

“Found you,” Bucky growled as his palms traced over the thin white lace of my lingerie, his eyes growing even darker. 

“I-I guess you did,” I stammered while he climbed on top of me. 

WIth his hips locking me in place, Bucky reached over my head towards a bag I hadn’t noticed before and riffled through it. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the rope between his hands, him threading it between his fingers. 

Bounding my hands to my ankles, Bucky went about tying them together with the rope, checking how tight it was before letting the game slip away for a moment. 

“Too tight?” 

I shook my head. “I promise, it’s fine.” 

He took off the hair tie around his wrist and gathered my hair away from my face and into a ponytail. His vibranium finger grazed over my cheek, forcing my eyes to meet his. 

“If you ever want to stop, say red,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” I breathed, understanding the usage of our new safe word. 

With my hands and feet bound together, I let out a squeal of laughter mixed with shock as Bucky lifted me from the ground, carrying me like a tied animal over towards our bed and roughly tossed me onto it. My ass was up towards the ceiling, barely covered by the lace I wore, and his nostrils flared when he leaned over my lower half, still donning the mask. 

“You smell so good,” he praised while kneeling on the bed. 

“Peaches,” I informed, reminding him of my perfume. 

Bucky hooked a finger into my panties, shifting it to the side so he could brush his nose along my wet folds. 

“Oh,” I murmured when I realized what kind of smell he was referring to. 

Due to how I was tied up, I wasn’t able to look down and see Bucky between my legs, but I could feel the faint brush of his tongue over my clit and I pulled on my bindings. 

“One more thing,” Bucky said before slipping away from me to rummage around in my suitcase. 

I turned my head towards him. “We don’t need a condom. I’m on the implant, remember?” 

He ignored me, still rummaging around in my bag until he spun quickly on his heels towards me holding onto one of my camcorders. 

“Sex tape?” I asked with a teasing edge to my voice. 

Bucky’s lips curled up after he ripped off the mask. “A fucking sex tape.” 

After making sure it was fully charged and set up on the dresser across the bed with the perfect angle, he was quick to be back at the foot of the bed, kneeling on the floor. 

“I want to taste you so fucking bad, doll. Will you let me?” 

My head fell back to the mattress with fluttering eyes. “Please.”

Yanking my panties to the side again, Bucky was quick to devour me, teeth and tongue all over my core. My body writhed against the bed as he took turns between my clit and folds with his tongue before ultimately wrapping his lips around my sensitive bud and forced two vibranium fingers inside of me. 

“Shit,” I panted as the orgasm was quick to build. 

I’d been on edge all night waiting for him and I knew it wouldn’t take me long to reach there. Bucky momentarily removed his fingers from me to press the fullness of his tongue against my folds, licking me up from the bottom to the top.

"Fuck," I moaned when his tongue speared inside of me for a few strokes, before replacing it with his fingers again. 

Bucky’s lips wrapped around my clit to bite and suck at the bundle of nerves. He ate me like a man starved as was offered his final meal before death. The familiar burn at the base of my spine made me call out his name; in a praise and a warning. 

“So close,” I keened. 

Bucky’s arm held up my legs that were still bound and since his mouth was a little preoccupied, he smacked my ass with the hand that was holding my panties to the side. 

Let go, doll. 

I came with a shout, grinding myself against Bucky’s face as he licked and finger fucked me through the aftershocks. 

“Shit,” I choked on a breath when he pulled away only to rise to his feet, yanking down his brieds, now standing in front of me in nothing but the mask. 

I pulled on my bindings, yearning to touch him, but let out an aggravated cry when I realized how tight he tied them. 

“I need to be inside you, doll,” Bucky admitted while grabbing a hold of my ankles with one hand and guiding himself inside of me with the other. 

Both of our groans of pleasure tangled sweetly together and Bucky, who stood at the edge of the bed now, slammed into me with such force, it shook the headboard against the wall. The sound of skin on skin was heaven sent, along with the image of Bucky’s head rolled back, mouth open as he let out pants of air in tangent with each of his thrust. They were brutal, nearly bruising, but I reveled in it. It awoken a fire deep inside of me that from now on needed to be set ablaze. 

“So.” 

Thrust.

“Fucking.” 

Thrust. 

“Tight,” Bucky groaned as his hips stalled for a moment and I watched as the muscles in his stomach constricted. 

He was close but was trying not to tumble over the edge so he slipped out from me. Before I could protest, he was climbing onto the bed towards me. He lifted my head up, wrapping my hair around his hand to force my mouth towards his cock slick with my arousal. 

“Open that pretty little mouth,” he demanded, yanking on my scalp. 

With glittering eyes gazing up at him, I parted my lips so he could force himself inside. He ignored my gagging as he hate fucked my throat with such a bruising grip on my hair, I was sure it would be sore for days. Drool pooled from my mouth and around his cock, dripping down to my chest. 

“Such a good little slut,” Bucky smacked my cheek with the hand that wasn't tangled in my hair. “You love the way you taste, huh?”

My yelp of shock was drowned out by his cock as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. I could taste myself on it, the tangy arousal lingering on my tongue. But soon I was gasping for breath when Bucky pulled himself from my mouth to grab a hold of my chin, bringing his face mere meters from mine. 

“I asked you a question, doll. I expect you to answer it.”

I did the best I could to nod with his tight grip but it wasn’t enough for him so he tapped my cheek again. 

“Words. You need to use your words.” 

“Yes,” I blurted. “Yes, I love the way I taste on your cock.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praised before forcing his cock deep inside my throat again. 

This time, he didn’t hold himself back as he spilled himself inside of my mouth. 

“Don’t you dare swallow,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held the back of my head, letting my tongue glide him through the aftershocks. 

I held his seed in my mouth, long after he fell to the bed next to me, only to reach into the bag he brough, pulling out a knife. My eyes widened but unable to speak, I held my breath. 

Bucky brushed his lips over mine. “You can swallow now, pretty girl.” 

Obeying him, I let out a breath and motioned towards the shiny blade. “I think this is a step too far.”

He let out a low chuckle before reaching for my bound legs and hands. “Relax, doll. I’m just cutting you free.”

Tattered rope fell to the bed and Bucky quickly brought the red, irritated skin to his lips, peppering it with kisses. 

All I did was hum and as we laid there, Bucky’s fingers grazed up and down the inside of my thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“I hope you know I’m not finished with you yet,” was all he said before he yanked me off of the bed. 

As we passed by the camcorder, Bucky turned it so it could face out towards the balcony of the hotel room. 

“Bucky!” I nearly screeched when I noticed the somewhat busy street just a few floors beneath us. 

He spun me around so my back was against the railing, the city lights painting us in a luminescent glow, and traced a finger down the front of my lingerie. 

“This is new,” he noted. 

I shivered with not only his touch, but the cool breeze that passed over us. 

“Do-do you like it?” I asked, nervous. 

“I love it so much, doll, that I’m going to fuck you with it on,” Bucky husked before holding out his hand, spitting on it. 

He pumped his already hard cock a few times, dragging the extra skin over the head and let out a spew of curses. Gathering some of my arousal between my legs, he worked me open again with two fingers before replacing them with his cock. The rough metal of the balcony dug into my back as Bucky dragged himself nearly all the way out, slowly fucking me with the head before thrusting all of him inside of me again. It went like this for a few moments, my bottom lip caught between my teeth because the feeling caused my skin to prick. I squeezed against him, swallowing his length in warmth and our hips began to move in sync.

“Shit,” Bucky rasped while leaving dark, bruising teeth marks along my neck and shoulder. “You feel so good, doll.”

His fingers wrapped around my neck while his thumb forced my jaw up towards him. I went to slip a finger between us but Bucky slapped my hand away, a growl of arousal slipped through his lips.

“Mine,” he whispered.

The pad of his thumb pressed against my bundle of nerves and with the fast and relentless pace he had chosen now, I felt the coil deep in my stomach begin to tense, my second orgasm so close.

“Yours,” I breathed. 

Our bodies slammed against each other, skin slapping against skin, and the wet noises that came from the place we were connected were so filthy that I was ready to let my body go, walls tensing around Bucky’s cock. He lifted his forehead from my chest and forced our gazes to lock again, my arm wrapped around his shoulder to bring him closer, thumb rubbing circles on his bicep. His eyes took in every inch of my face, burning with the way I gasped silently when I felt the tip of his cock hit that spot. 

“Bucky,” I pured. “I’m going to-.” 

My orgasm ripped through me, causing the words to falter, and I shook in his tight embrace. The night air did nothing to cool my heated skin. 

Bucky removed his bottom lip from the tight grip between his teeth as he let out a deep but quiet moan as he painted my walls with his cum. Lifting me into his arms, I wrapped my tired legs around him as he carried me back into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed yet again fixing the camera in a different position. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head when he reached for the buttons of my lingerie. 

Bucky kissed a tender kiss on my shoulder. “I know you’ve got one more in you, doll. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” 

More than anything. 

I was exhausted from my two orgasms, how was he not? Peering down to his cock, I noticed it was nearly hard yet again, the sight of it alone causing my gut to twinge with anticipation and I licked my lips. 

Damn super soldier serum.

“I thought you can't,” Bucky mocked my voice from earlier, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. 

“Shut up!”

The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room, my lingerie falling away from my body and I screeched while smacking his chest. 

“This was new, asshole!” 

Bucky shrugged, throwing me down to my stomach and lifting my ass in the air to lay a swift smack against it with his vibranium hand. I scrambled to get away from him which prompted him to force the top half of my body against the mattress with one of his hands while the other smacked my ass yet again. 

“Fuck! Bucky!” I bit back the tears as he laid a third smack. “Pl-please.”

“I’ll stop when you apologize for what you called me,” Bucky’s voice was dark, gone with the lust that consumed him. 

For the briefest of moments, part of me feared the monster I had awoken in him but when the pain soon turned to pleaser, I let out a quiet moan afraid he would hear. His large hand rubbed at the red skin before pressing a kiss. 

“Does the pain turn you on, doll? Hm?” Bucky spoke into the skin of my lower back. 

I grasped at the pillow, pulling it close to my chest so I could muffle my answer into it. Which only seemed to displease him because he sunk his teeth into the extra flesh of my hip, making me cry out my answer. 

“Yes! I need it to hurt!”

Wrapping an arm around my stomach, Bucky lifted me up onto my knees and to face the large mirror in the room that was hung across the bed, right next to the camera; still blinking red. I gasped at my reflection of tattered pieces of lingerie hanging on to me still by a thread, mascara running down my face, purple bite marks littered all over my neck and shoulder, and lips faintly bruised from how hard Bucky fucked my throat earlier. 

He knelt behind me and brushed his nose along the shell of my ear while trailing the pad of his thumb over the pulse point of my throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, doll. Marked up as mine so everyone knows who you belong to,” he dragged his teeth along the crook of my neck, breathing me in. 

“God, I fucking love the way you smell.”

His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples, making my head falter back onto his shoulder.

“What do you want, baby?” Bucky palmed both of my breasts now before trailing a hand down my stomach to spread my legs wide for the reflection and mostly the camera. 

“You,” I breathed. 

Bucky said nothing, instead he slipped two fingers past my slick folds where the head of his cock was slowly gliding up and down. Gathering up not only my arousal but the little bit of precum that beaded at the slit, he brought those fingers to my lips with one simple order. 

“Lick.”

I took both vibranium fingers into my mouth without objection to lap up the tangy mixture of us and hummed greedily. I took them as far as I could without gagging and Bucky showed me how proud he was of me by sinking himself deep inside my pussy. His strokes this time were languid, taking his time with me as he worked me up with his fingers down my throat and the others spreading me wide. 

“That’s it. Take all of me. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, you’re so wet,” Bucky’s pace began to intensify as his words were urging him on. 

One hand wrapped around my throat while the other strumbed against my swollen nub, bringing me closer and close to the edge of destruction. 

My own words were gone, forever lost in the bliss that overtook my body. My soul succumbed to Bucky, allowing him to drag every part of my essence down with him to the darkness. This was a side of Bucky I’d never expected to see and now that I had a taste of him, I wasn’t letting him go. 

“I love you,” I moaned as I allowed the waves of pleasure to drown me as I soaked Bucky’s cock with my orgasm. 

He stilled his movements and sucked in a breath before forcing my face to look into our reflection of the mirror. 

“What did you just say?” 

I blinked a few times, trying to regain myself after the intensity of each after shock, and when Bucky’s grip on my chin tightened, I winced. 

Oh shit. 

I had just blurted out that I loved Bucky.

For the first time. 

Shit. Fuck. God damn it. 

We’d only been dating for a few months and I was suddenly very afraid of how Bucky would react. It was clearly way too soon to be dropping the I love you bomb. 

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was firm as he shook my face. 

Staring at his reflection, I let the words fall from my lips again. 

“I love you.”

The hard lines on his face softened as he let the proclamation settle for a few quiet beats and just before I could find myself questioning everything, Bucky let out a guttural groan, wrapping an arm around my stomach to pull my back closer to his chest. We were pulled flush against each other as now Bucky used the new angle to buck up into me, hitting the spot each and every time. 

My body was drained and I could barely keep myself afloat in his embrace as the bed shook beneath us, creaking with every snap of his hips. Skin on skin bounced off the walls, overpowering the sounds of my quiet cries, and Bucky bit down hard on my shoulder. 

“Fuck, doll. I love you too, so fucking much. You’re mine, you hear me? Your heart, your soul, this fucking pussy? All mine,” he snarled as he filled my cunt. 

“Ah! Shit!” I cried out louder this time when I felt the teeniest prick of blood from Bucky’s bite into my neck trail down between my breasts. 

We both fell onto the bed, a heap of sweat and cum, and Bucky immediately wrapped me in his arms. He continued to proclaim his love for me while dragging those vibranium fingers up and down my spine, lulling me to sleep; all while the red light from the camera continued to blink. 

[softtdaisy]

in the meantime / Aaron Hotchner

summary. when hotch gets hurt, you're called as his emergency contact. thing is, nobody knows you're not together anymore.

words count. 2 336

what to expect. a little angst I guess but fluff too, Jack is mentioned but he's a teen

a/n. I first imagined this very funny and light and I ended up adding more angst??? but it's still sweet and cute and hotch is a lover boy

F1 masterlist | general masterlist| request

When you got called at school, at first, you didn’t think it could be that moment you’ve been scared of for months finally happening.

Being a kindergarten teacher, it was easy to leave your class and ask for a colleague to take care of your children. They were all occupied with creating a new poster with their names and wouldn't even notice your absence. Well, you imagine they wouldn’t because you weren’t supposed to leave for too long.

“Do you know who’s asking for me?” you asked the principal’s assistant who came for you. He was one of your friends here, so you knew how to analyze his gesture. And from how fast he was walking right now, you could tell this was more serious than you first thought.

“Well, she’s a brunette, dressed in black.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway to think for a second. Trying hard to remember what her name could be. Thing was, you didn’t know that many brunettes, dressed in black that could authorize herself to come here. “I think her name is Emily or something like that.”

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, freezing. 

You appreciated Emily. You would even call her a friend, even if you only knew her through Hotch. But you barely talked outside of the moment you spent together. 

Getting a call from her would have been weird. Having her come to your school wasn’t normal at all.

Yet, here she was. Waiting in the principal’s office. Indeed, she was wearing an all-black outfit but mostly wearing a concerned expression on her face.

When you opened the door, she rushed to you, interrupting her conversation. Her hand was soon on your shoulder and her eyes were locked on yours. You found some comfort in it. The problem was, you had no idea why you needed it.

“What are you doing here, Emily?” you asked, whispering like it was some secret the rest of your colleagues or your superior didn’t need to know. Which was true, somehow. “Is everything alright?” 

But you knew it wasn’t. And the three words that followed were the proof. “It’s Hotch.”

Your heart dropped, and the whole world went silent. 

You’ve spent months afraid of hearing these words one day. Checking your phone multiple times a day, waiting for his text to make sure he was doing fine. There were moments when you would have the same nightmares of coming home to an empty house, sometimes with more graphic images you wished you could forget.

When Emily noticed you seemed to disconnect from reality, she put her other hand on your shoulder. “He’s ok,” she added. 

“I don’t know how, but the unsub managed to stab him in the stomach. He lost a lot of blood and went to surgery, but he should be fine. Spencer told me he was waking up when he arrived here, you heard Emily explain, but her voice seemed like a distant melody.

You tried to focus on the good news, that Hotch was fine. As fine as he can be after an attack that probably woke up some trauma, but fine. Not dead. Not in danger. Fine. 

You took a breath and nodded to accept the information you just got. And showing Emily that you listened, that you understood what she said. 

It wasn’t until you managed to keep your stress as low as possible that the question popped up in your head. “You came all the way here to tell me?”

Emily looked at you with confusion. 

“Well, you’re his girlfriend and his emergency contact. And you weren’t answering your phone. I thought it would be better to bring you to the hospital myself than let you learn about that later by yourself.”

That was the moment you understood why Emily chose to drive all the way here.

Hotch didn’t tell anyone you weren’t together anymore.

Dating Hotch was easy, more than people thought it was.

He was a great listener. He loved to hear you speak about everything in your life just as much as he loved paying attention to small details. Offering your favorite flowers, having your favorite artist in his car, and sending a text about important events at your job even when he was miles and miles away. 

You could tell Hotch was working on the experience he got from his past relationship and all that he still had to learn to be a good partner for you. And he was doing a wonderful job on it.

This relationship did a lot of good for him too. With Jack being a teen and less with his dad, he finally felt like he had a new purpose to come back home. Hotch learned to love opening his door again. This time not being met by the silence. But by you, with some kind of reality TV on, reading a book on a sofa he almost forgot about before seeing you on it—not to mention the memories the both of you created on it. You made him feel loved. At his place but at every place in his life too.

For a year, you two have been the happiest and did everything to make this relationship work. Even the team noticed the change in Hotch’s personality. And after multiple drinks together, you started to call them friends too. You both loved the routine you created together. 

But even with the brightest sun shining on your relationship, the truth was the stress was still there. His job was anxious, to you, but to him too. Having someone to care about in his life once again made Hotch concerned about losing you. He tended to be more protective after rough cases, sometimes leaning to some controlling behavior he hated as much as you did.

The disputes became more and more recurrent. And after another fight, you both decided that maybe you needed a moment away from each other to wonder if this was really worth it. You wanted Aaron Hotchner to be the love of your life; you really did. Just as he wanted to. But was it really the life you both wanted?

It was a hard month away from him; you won’t lie.

And knowing you almost lost him was even hard.

“Let’s go,” you finally replied. And the ride to the hospital was surprisingly calm.

The few times you saw Emily, you both kept chatting for hours to the point Hotch even laughed one day about fearing she might steal you from him. But this time, there were no words. Not only because of the stress, but also because you realized you were lying to your friend because of Hotch. You haven’t seen him in a month, having no idea about what his life might have been these past thirty days. And she was great at worming information out of you. So you would rather not say a thing instead of spilling a secret.

The whole drive to the hospital felt like a fever dream. And nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling you got when you opened the door. A mix of relief and stress.

Hotch was there, indeed. Underneath a white sheet that made his skin look even paler, with dark circles bigger than the last time you saw him and a tired expression that made you wish you could do anything to let him relax and rest for at least a month.

He was facing the window and only turned his head when he heard you coming in. And the confusion replaced the tiredness on his face. Yet, you still noticed the short smile that drew on his lips when he saw you. “What are you doing here?”

His tone was sweet. Sweeter than usual. No matter how down he was, Hotch took everything in him to make you feel welcome. He didn’t want you to question your presence here or to think he was questioning it. He was glad to see your face after the awful day he had. Yet, he was still wondering why you came. After a month apart, he thought you put him aside. 

Deep down, Hotch had the feeling he was easy to forget. But you weren’t. You never felt his head or his heart.

You didn’t answer his question. You couldn’t even talk. You were just focused on the silhouette of the man that shared your life these past months, lying on this hospital bed, looking so fragile.

You walked to him, as close as you could. So close that your knees bumped in the bed without you realizing it. You couldn’t resist the need to brush his hair, putting away some strands that were on his forehead. His confused and drained eyes follow each one of your moves.

“Honey?” he asked again, reaching for your hand. 

When you were together, not a day went by—except for those when he was away—where you wouldn’t hold hands. In the morning, when he was getting up, you tried to keep him with you a little longer. During breakfast, while he was drinking his coffee. When he said goodbye, kissing you before putting a kiss on your entangled hands. Or when you went to sleep, cuddling, with your hands on your stomach—or his, when he needed it after a rough day.

“You didn’t tell them we broke up,” you said in a low voice. It was the first time you said it out loud but also realized what it meant. And having Hotch in front of you, calling you by the nickname that followed you your whole relationship and caressing your hand with his thumb softly, helped see the truth behind that. “Emily came and picked me up because I’m your emergency contact, and I wasn’t answering my phone, and as your girlfriend, she assumed I needed to know. Because you didn’t tell anyone we weren’t together anymore.”

You finally landed your eyes on his, losing yourself in his baffled puppy look. “You’re right, I didn’t.” Hotch said. It was the first time since you came in that you noticed his voice was a little raspy. “And I’m glad it led you here.” 

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, not that you doubted he meant it. Over a year, you’ve learned to recognize Hotch’s expression. Especially the way his face was always softer when he was with you. Or how his very stoic and linear mouth always curled up in a smile around you.

Still, you had one question on your tongue. “Why?”

“Why am I glad?” he replied with a giggle. One that was sadly followed by a grimace. You watched as Hotch brought his other hand to his stomach to ease the pain. The doctor told him that even with the medicine, it would take him multiple days to get better. And until the stitches were gone, he wasn’t allowed to go back on the field.

But suddenly, the idea of being stuck at his office or at home wasn’t as awful as it was when he first thought about it. 

You sighed, focusing on his face rather than the wound he was clearly keeping hidden from you. “Why haven’t you told them?” 

Hotch took a second to look at you. The answer was obvious to him, to the point that there wasn’t a question to begin with. Over this past month, there was not a moment where he thought he had to make things clearer about your situation. Sure, he was a very private man, yet he never lied about you. He just kept things as they were. “Because I didn’t want it to be over.”

Hotch sat up against the headboard and motioned to you to sit on the bed with him. He moved his legs to give you space. And the heat you felt when he held your hand tighter to help you reminded you of the obvious attraction you had for him. Even after he had a terrible day. 

“Listen,” he started again with a tone that imposed on listening to him. That's not to say you weren't paying attention in the first place. “I know we made this decision together, and I respect it. And this month apart gave me the time to think about us.”

The first night coming home to an empty and silent house wasn’t easy for Hotch. He felt like he had failed again at keeping someone in his life. He hated that he lied to Jack, saying you had family obligations to explain your absence. He didn’t want his son to be disappointed about his dad's inability to maintain a great relationship.

And one day, Jack told him about a girl at school he had a crush on and everything he did to prove to her it was worth trying rather than giving up.

“I want to make things right with you.” Hotch pursued, bringing your hands to his chest. “Maybe I need to work on my perception of danger when it comes to you. And if so, I will do it. Because I want you.”

You always found it fascinating how his eyes often spoke louder than his words. And the look he was giving you right now was the best argument he could have found to prove you he meant it. Hotch loved you. And so did you. 

When a smile started to grow on your lips, also a silent answer to his silent confession, you noticed his lips curved too. Hotch let go of your hand to bring his own to your neck and move your face closer to him. But you stopped right before your lips touched.

“Maybe you should just consider not getting hurt the next time we argue.” You whispered, which made him laugh.

“Right, I’ll think about that.” He replied before finally guiding you to his lips.

Hotch never stopped believing he would get you back. So maybe he was right about not telling anyone about the breakup. 

[goatgoesmbe]

angst, no comfort, everyone involved in this fic got hurt including the author

inspired from: this song, (english) + this old indonesian song (from reader's perspective) (english)

tw : Dead dove: do not eat, infidelity, depression, mention of abuse, mention of PTSD, implied suicidal thoughts, self-harm, dark theme, heavy ass shit, toxic relationship, one-sided hatred, one-sided love, self-loathing, major character death, violence, mention of blood, probably inaccurate medical scene, implied past-Ghoap, post-Soap's death

last warning : it started bad and it got worse before everything burned in flames

Thanks to @ahobaka-trash & @herdarkangel for beta-reading :3

word count : 9187

rated : E

You can't fix him

Ghost x f!Reader

AO3

The sun was shining brightly in the sky, specks of white decorated light blue. Everything was too bright, too colorful, that he needed to squint his eyes and pull his hoodie to cover his face more. He hadn’t worn his mask for a while now, not since he was discharged. He just couldn’t be bothered to anymore, not finding any use for it when he didn’t need to separate himself between two lives.

But he regretted not wearing any now.

Despite the warm temperature, he was dressed in all black, with his jacket zipped up all the way. His appearance was a contrast to the pretty thing holding onto his forearm. You were skipping beside him, smiling cheerfully as you cooed at babies and greeted every dog passing by.

He made a mistake by glancing at you, to which you responded with a bright smile that made him grit his teeth.

“Don’t be so grumpy, Simon. We’re almost there” You said to him in such a sweet voice that sent a shiver down his spine- not the pleasant kind.

This was not a scenario Simon thought he would ever be in.

It all started when he first met you. His neighbor who wouldn’t leave him alone ever since he moved into the flat beside yours. He didn’t know how you even had the courage to approach him, he knew he was huge and imposing, intimidating everyone in and out of field. He was not charming in any way like you were, he was broody, even more so now that he was medically discharged from the military.

He got his heart punctured in a fight—a near-fatal wound. He was rushed to a field hospital, then airlifted back home, where surgeons fought to keep him alive. Hours of open-heart surgery. Internal bleeding. A cardiac patch to repair the damage. But somehow, he survived.

“Your heart took too much damage. Even with the surgical repairs, any extreme exertion could worsen the scar tissue, cause arrhythmia, or lead to heart failure. If you push too hard… you’ll need a transplant.” He remembered a doctor explaining  it to him.

The very last thing he liked about himself, his strength, was now useless since he couldn’t get his hands dirty. He was angry, but he knew there was nothing he could do, couldn’t argue with Price to at least get him to have Johnny’s revenge and kill Makarov.

You kept pestering him. Starting with knocking on his door to offer him some baked goods, approaching him for small talk even though the most he would respond with was  an annoyed grunt.

It was very obvious that you had a not-so-little crush on him. And he tried to make it obvious that he wasn’t interested, that you were better off trying to charm some better bloke out there that wasn’t full of emotional baggage.

But he was starting to learn that you were a stubborn little thing, and it started to get on his nerves.

And so, that’s how he got here. Letting you drag him to some cozy cafe in the city, you looked so pretty in your flowy sundress and white wedges. He hated it.

You clearly made an extra effort to look pretty for this date. For him.

While he couldn’t even be bothered to shower.

He only agreed to this date so you would see how uninteresting he was, so you would finally leave him alone for the better. 

“So.. we talked a lot before.. but you rarely talked about yourself” You said to him after you both were sat at a table by the window. He had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes at that, because no- we didn’t talk a lot, you did, while he just endured listening to you.

“Why should I talk about myself..” He responded while looking down at his tea, stirring it so he had something to do with his hands to make this whole thing less awkward.

You giggled at that, and while he was used to you being such a sweetheart all the time, it still irked him. “Well.. this is a date.. so, that’s kind of the thing you have to do..” You replied.

“Only if you’re comfortable of course..!” You quickly added when he looked at you with his soulless eyes.

He grunted in response. Like he always did in every interaction with you.

“Well.. let me go first then” You uttered before rambling about yourself like he hadn't  heard it  all before already. You worked as a vet and often volunteered at various local shelters, you liked baking and always shared some with the others, especially him even though he still had quite a few stuffed at the back of his cupboard, uneaten.

Now, Simon knew he had been really cruel with you, especially with how you’ve been nothing but nice. But he couldn’t help it, he didn’t know why but the way you looked at him like he mattered,when he thought the total opposite, just rubbed him the wrong way. 

You clearly fell hard for him for some reason, but he didn’t feel the same way. And he was not a total asshole, he made it very clear with his words and action toward you. “I’m not interested,” He said curtly when you asked him for a coffee yesterday. “..Please? Just this once, then I’ll leave you alone..” You responded. So he only agreed because he hoped you’d keep your word and leave him alone after.

But he couldn’t say that he hated you either. It’s what you do that pissed him off. He was not used to being treated this way, receiving this much affection, when he didn’t deserve it. He felt like a feral animal being forced to wear some cozy sweater. Made his skin itch, Irritating, left him wanting to tear it all at the seams.

It was him that he hated, not you. He shouldn’t be receiving this kind of attention for being the person he was.

“So.. that was all about me, your turn,” your voice snapped him out of his head.

“..Fine, what do you want to know?” He responded,  then took a sip of his tea that tasted horrible on his tongue. But he gulped it down anyway.

“Um.. what do you do for work? I don’t think I’ve seen you out much..” You asked with a tilt of your head.

“Was in the military.” Simon’s answer left out as many details as possible, telling you it’s classified when you asked questions about it. 

He still had a lot of savings to survive living without working for a while. Until he got himself sorted out at least.

A soft giggle left  your lips at his secrecy. “Well.. alright, how about things you do in your free time?” you asked in a gentle tone, being so patient with him as always.

“Nothing much” He answered as he looked anywhere but at you who tried to blind him with your sunshine. He wasn’t lying, he spent most days distracting himself from his thoughts by working out, and when he wasn’t, he was content staying in his flat to zone out at anything playing on tv, at full volume to drown out the voices in his fucked up head. He was sure you could hear him from your place whenever he did that, but you never complained so he wasn’t really sure.

You didn’t respond for a few seconds, which was odd because you were usually so quick to fill the silence with anything you could think of. It was as if you were being more careful with him now in hopes that he would open up to you more eventually.

Stupid thought.

“I noticed you work out a lot, ” you then said with a cheeky smile as you eyed his biceps that were still obvious under his thick hoodie. “Once I saw you went on a run at 2 am,” you added.

He grunted again.

Yeah, he did that sometimes.. woke up in the early hours from nightmares, then tried to tire himself out by running. At least until his body deemed it enough, he didn't want  to put a strain on his heart like the doctor had said.

And when he couldn’t bring himself to go outside, he’d just stare at the wall while unconsciously picking on the stitches from some of the wounds he got from the last deployment. Finding comfort in the sting that distracted him from the heavy weight in his chest. Sometimes it caused him to bleed slightly, but it’s not like he couldn’t stitch it up again  himself. If anything, the pain he felt when doing so  grounded him.

But he couldn’t say that.

“Last time I did so much of a workout was when I got chased by a dog, ” you joked and laughed at yourself. Simon gave no reaction, he was staring at you in the eyes but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

You fidgeted in your seat at his lack of response and put on a smile. “So.. if you need a workout buddy, I don’t mind being one.. been wanting to start exercising regularly anyway” You then said shyly, looking up at him with those damn doe eyes.

Simon shrugged. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up”.

Wrong answer.

Because instead of taking it as a rejection, you took it as a challenge.

And you totally broke your promise to leave him alone after this date.

His time of solitude was filled with your sweet voice and giggles.

“Hey, why don’t we rest a bit..” You suggested the first time you invited yourself to his early morning run, panting and sweating already even though it had only been a short while.

He rolled his eyes and kept running at his pace. “Told you, you wouldn’t be able to keep up, ” he responded without looking at you, keeping his gaze forward.

Expecting you to give up and leave him alone, he was surprised when you instead started sprinting, laughing at the way his eyes widened. “Race you..!” you yelled over your shoulder.

Your footsteps kept getting farther and farther, and he could feel himself relaxing again. Finally some peace and quiet.

Simon didn’t bother to race you, content with being with himself along with the feeling weighing him down in his chest. From the damage he got on his heart, or something else, he wasn’t sure.

And as he continued with his run, he caught up with you eventually,  sitting on a bench.

“I won! ” You teased  him with a grin.

Simon didn’t respond, didn’t say that he wasn’t even interested in participating in the stupid race.

You didn’t take the hint of him wanting to be left alone, like  usual . And so, Simon had to endure with your yapping the whole way back to the flat.

“That was fun, Simon. I’ll join you again sometime, yeah?” You headed inside your own flat without waiting for his response since you were used to it by now. And for the first time, Simon appreciated your act of kindness.

It was not surprising when you kept tagging along with his morning run despite him being obviously bothered by it. He was pissed at first, but then your presence became familiar to him, so much so that he found himself looking for you when you didn’t show up.

He quickly shook his head. Damn, you were starting to invade his mind.

Grumbling under his breath, he dumped the thought of you before resuming his run.

Without your cavity-inducing voice to accompany him, he found himself lost in thoughts. Drowning in the cacophony of noises in his head: his dad’s yelling, his mum’s cries, the sound of gunshot to Johnny’s head.

“I said, I already have a boyfriend!” Out of nowhere, your voice snapped him out of his head. Just then, his eyes locked with yours.

“See?  That's him!” You looked relieved and immediately left the guy who had been bothering you to stand by Simon’s side. With a simple stare from him, the guy immediately tensed before hurriedly walking  away. He didn’t mean to intimidate him or help you, but you thanked him anyway.

Boyfriend. Him.

He didn’t think much of it, no. It was obvious that you only said it at the time so the guy would leave you alone.

That was until he heard you telling everyone else that. He overheard you talking to some neighbors who were curious about him, the brooding loner who lived beside you. He didn’t know why he stood back  and refused to  say anything when you told them you’ve been dating him. Maybe it didn’t matter to him what you or everyone else thought , or maybe he didn’t mind the thought of it. The former was more likely.

He thought about it  when he was back at his flat. Since when did you start thinking that?  Was it since  that so-called first date? He probably should say something about it. Not probably — definitely.

But then he remembered how fucking stubborn you were. How you kept pestering him even though he clearly ignored you, how you managed to convince him to go on a date with you, your uninvited presence during his morning run, the insistent knocking on his door whenever you wanted to share your baking with him.

He could already feel his head pounding at the thought of your reaction if he were to make it  clear to  you. Initiating a break-up already felt like a chore, especially with someone like you. His life already felt like hell ever since he was discharged, he really didn’t need another shit on his plate, and didn’t want to start any drama.

Alright, he’d play along for now. Your silly little fantasy would eventually pop after you saw what a burden he truly was.

…

“I can tell you never had anyone over, huh? Well, I feel honored..” You beamed when he invited you over. Big eyes sparkling as you took in the mess that is his apartment, piles of laundry he didn’t bother to fold after getting them out of the dryer, some leftover takeout on the coffee table swarmed by a trail of ants, dust particles in the air, the stench of it all.

“Go sit wherever.” His voice rumbled before he went to the kitchen and prepared the only thing he could even be bothered with: instant noodles.

When he got back from the kitchen, he found that you had tidied up a bit, windows opened for some fresh air, and you somehow found some trash bag  to put some of the mess in, which was now gathered in the corner. “I hope you don’t mind me touching your stuff..” You said with an apologetic smile.

“‘S fine” He responded. It was not fine, he didn’t like having other people in his private space, and now you had made it worse by messing up his familiar surroundings. But he didn’t feel like arguing.

He sat on the couch and ate in silence, didn’t even bother to hand you your plate, instead  letting you get to it yourself.

“Is this what you eat every day?” You asked when he felt your presence beside him. The tone indicated that you were genuinely curious and not judging. You probably noticed the trash in the kitchen was filled with instant noodles packages when you were retrieving your food.

He answered with a hum.

“Well.. you know, I like to cook so I don’t mind doing it for you too..” He heard you say and grunted in response.

But of course, you took it as an invitation to invade his personal space even more.

Simon’s previous plan of getting you to turn your nose up at him backfired. Now you didn’t only come over from time to time to give him cookies, but twice a day to feed him proper food.

And you didn’t stop there, no. Because when he opened the door to receive whatever it was that you  were giving him,as always, you had now begun inviting  yourself inside to eat with him, telling him about your day without him having to ask as he tried to not show how much he enjoyed the food. But you seemed to pick it up with how you started bringing larger portions, packing up the leftovers to fill his empty fridge.

You also turned his dump of an apartment livable. No more trash scattered around, his clothes are contained in his wardrobe, smelling of flowery laundry conditioner rather than the musty smell he was used to, the layer of dust on his furniture is  gone, and the nasty stench that used to linger in his apartment has been replaced with sweet lavender.

He didn’t like it at first, not a fan of his world being flipped upside down. To some people, the state he was in was miserable, sure. But it was comforting in a way because that was his personal sanctuary isolated from everyone, he was used to the darkness consuming him that he recoiled at the blinding light that was you.

Now however, he had just accepted his fate. His previous expectation of finally having you leave him alone once you see how miserable he was had  failed. Does it frustrate him? It probably should, but he was used to how stubborn you were by now.

You took his lack of response as acceptance. But is it? Not  really.

Being around you still made him feel on edge since everyone would see how much of a sweetheart you are, which automatically meant he was an  asshole. He pushed your hand away every time you tried to touch him because even just the thought of it made him want to flay himself alive.

Why do you even like him? Do you really like him? Or do you have this hero complex and saw him like one of those poor animals you rescued at work?

Well, he doesn’t know, but if he paid attention to the way you looked at him, he’d notice how you never looked at him with pity, just pure adoration like how despite everything he was worthy of love.

He eventually found the answer when he slept with you for the first time. It was something that he did just to get his needs filled.  He was only a man after all, and you were there, pretty and willing. He saw faint marks on your thighs, some neat lines from cuts that told him you did it yourself.

Leaving your sleeping form on the bed, he went to the bathroom and saw more confirmation of what he suspected. At one of the cabinets, he found some pills, anti-depressants. A few of them were left in a cylinder container with a label that was fading like it’s been left untouched for a while. Did you give up trying? Or maybe did it not help you  the way that you thought  it would?

You two weren’t as different as he thought after all.

So perhaps you saw yourself in him in a way that he couldn’t. That you were so kind to everyone,even to an asshole like him, to make you hate yourself less. How you were so nice and patient with him to make up for how you couldn’t treat yourself that way.

You thought his life was worth more, so you didn’t care if loving him took pieces of your own.

He didn’t say anything about it, but he found himself  being less  hostile towards you.

…

“-They’ve been ganging up to bully me, acting so tough until I stand for myself?” You vented to him about your day at work one night, lounging on his bed as he scrolled on his phone. 

“Can’t believe people like them exist. Adults —some of them married with children — but act so childish. ” You continued despite his lack of response.

“I know I should tell HR about it.. but doesn’t it just make it worse? Basically everyone at work is in on it.. plus I don’t know if HR would actually do something about it anyway-” 

“Why don’t you just quit your job?” He mumbled, cutting off your sentence which made you look up at him, surprised at his response. And then you smiled with a faint blush on the high of your cheeks, like you were happy that he was actually listening.

Wow, you really need to raise your standard if having your partner doing the bare minimum made you gleam.

He didn’t push you away when you snuggled to his side.

“Well.. the thing is, I’m really stubborn. So resigning feels like I’m quitting the battlefield, losing. And I don’t lose.” You answered with a cheeky smile that actually made him snort. What a ridiculous mindset, but it was not odd for you.

Your smile widened at his amusement.

“What are you gonna do then?” He asked when you didn’t say anything and just stared at him with those loving eyes. Ugh, he was still not used to being looked at that way.

“Well.. I’m gonna act like an adult unlike them, be professional and show that their words don’t affect me.. kill them with kindness and all. Maybe it won't stop them, maybe I’ll get fired eventually.. but that’s the only realistic thing I could think of..” You rambled again.

“Am I pathetic?” You then added in a more somber tone, like you already thought that about yourself. That usual shine in your eyes dimmed and for a second he thought he saw the you that was hidden from the world.

“Yeah,” He thought to himself out loud without meaning to. And seemed like it was an incorrect response from the flicker of disappointment seen in your eyes before you hid by nuzzling your face to a pillow. Were you expecting him to comfort you? Did he raise your expectations of him just because he listened?

Simon looked away, he was never good at comforting people so he didn’t know what to say. After a moment of silence, he heard you snoring softly.

As he too closed his eyes, he thought to himself about what he had been feeling. While he still found himself disappointed  waking up another day, the thought of you feeling the same void in your chest made him feel better because he knew he wasn’t alone. He didn’t know how you could live everyday with a smile,everyday which made him respect you a bit.

He was used to your company by now, you cleaned his place, fed him, and fulfilled his sexual needs, and he was content with that.

But did he start feeling the same way as you?

Receiving your affection still gave him goosebumps, he never touched you tenderly like a boyfriend should, he was still as grumpy as ever around you. Though he didn’t push you away like he used to, he let you touch him, let you talk his ear off. But did it really mean anything? He  merely tolerated you. No more loathing, but he couldn’t say that he liked you. He just didn’t care to feel for you, positively or negatively, indifferent. So perhaps not.

He can’t love you anyway. It was one thing to be loved, it was another to love. The latter would give you power over him.

He can’t let himself be vulnerable again. He remembered how it was with Johnny, the hurt he felt when he got taken away in front of his eyes, dying in his arms.

He didn’t want to feel that loss again, so he settled with not having.

But then he let you kiss him. 

It wasn’t like you two never kissed before but this was different, it was not something that would end up with the  two of you having sex. 

He was smoking outside late at night, watching the flickering stars, and thought of the time he did the same thing a long time ago.  He was on  deployment, . taking a break at a hideout after a long day of fighting and running.

He had felt more alive then , despite the horrors he’d seen everyday, compared  to the peaceful yet boring life he had now.

Johnny was with him that night, yapping his ear off like he always did, exchanging shitty jokes. He kissed him that night.

So maybe that’s why it happened. When you somehow found him and invaded his solitude- like you always did, filling the silence with whatever rant you had  in store from the day.

Then the conversation slowed down, and he noticed you kept glancing at his lips. And when you stopped talking, you leaned in.

And he didn’t move, didn’t turn his head away.

Didn’t reciprocate the kiss and just stood still as you kissed him.

But it still made you smile. And you told him how life had never been great to you for a long while. How the universe has been  testing you harder lately.

And then you said that he was the best thing you had at the moment. You thanked him for whatever reason.

And he felt his heart stop .

He was half-listening to all that, was lost in thought about why he let you kiss him so softly, why hadn’t he pushed you away. But this? It made it all clear.

He had , in a way, developed  feelings for you. He didn’t want to call it love, but he cared at least.

If not, he wouldn’t have reacted so negatively to that remark. Would’ve stayed nonchalant and stayed there, continued to smoke, and acted indifferent.

Instead, he left. Leaving you who only stared at his retreating figure.

Because you were wrong, he wasn’t the best thing you had in your life. But for some reason, you saw him as your savior. He gave you a purpose, loving him was giving you some kind of fucked up hope. A reminder to yourself that your heart wasn’t broken because it was still beating.

He had to stop you there because he was the last person on earth who was able to give anyone salvation. He couldn’t save you, you couldn’t save him. He needed to get away from you.

You would be better off without him. That was proof that he cared about you, not wanting you to  chase  after some false hope. You deserve better.

But he could just leave, move out, and go far away. It would give him a nasty itch that would bother him wherever he goes. And he had a lot of shit haunting him already.

No, he needed to get it to your thick skull that whatever this was, was not happening.

He still didn’t like the thought of initiating a break-up because it was such a fucking chore. But he had to do this, for your sake.

…

And so the next day, he knocked on your door.

When you opened it, you looked up with those big eyes sparkling and beamed like you didn’t just spill  your heart out last night.

“I want to talk,” He said as he looked you in the eyes.

He was hoping you’d get the message with how intense his stare was but you just smiled and nodded. “Sure, come in-”

“No,” He cut you off immediately. It was better this way, so he could leave immediately after.

“I want to break up,” he continued.

He watched you stay silent, not showing any emotion, and then blinked before smiling again.

No hint of surprise, anger, or sadness. Like you had been expecting this conversation for a long time. Perhaps you’ve been hurt too much and more, and now you just felt numb.

“No,” you said with a giggle like he was just telling a joke.

“What do you mean, no?” He asked incredulously.

“I meant no, Simon.” You responded a bit more firmly.

“Why? I’ve never even loved you,” He said harshly. Cold and sharp, masking the feeling that was starting to bloom poorly in the cold vessel that was his heart.

“I don’t care..” You said in a softer tone, locking your eyes with him for a few seconds before looking down. “I don’t care if you  don’t feel the same way, Simon. Being with you makes me happy”.

“I’m being selfish, I know, I’m sorry..” You added, looking up at him again.

“How?” He couldn’t help but ask, feeling bewildered.

“It just is.. I can’t explain it, can’t really explain love..” You answered with an empty chuckle.

“No, why do you even love me? ” He asked again.

You smiled and tilted your head, the smile reached your  eyes as you looked at him with adoration. “You didn’t need to do anything to deserve love, Simon, ” you answered.

And he wondered if you could say that to yourself.

Simon let out a long sigh, letting out all the frustration he felt ever since he first met you. “I’m not really in a state for a relationship right now..” He didn’t mean to say anything about himself, it left his lips before he could stop it. But he hoped it would do something.

“Just give it some time..” You responded.

He frowned.

“I’m not giving up on this relationship, Simon.. or you,” You then continued and looked him dead in the eye.

Stubborn little thing.

He shouldn’t be surprised, should be used to how stubborn you could be, but he was.

He wondered if there was a limit to your stubbornness.

He really regretted agreeing to that first date, he was stuck with you now.

And if he was hurting you before by simply being himself. Now he would actually put in an effort.

Being back to square one where everything you do irritated  him. He did his best to avoid you, shut you down with a look whenever you tried to talk to him, not leaving a gap for you to have any hope of things changing. 

But despite all that, you still loved him.

Still looked at him like he hung the moon, somehow always managed to find him when he was out for some fresh air. And so he tried leaving his flat less often, but you still knocked on his door every day. He didn’t answer, but when he eventually opened the door, he saw your homemade food packed nicely with a little note.

Like you thought this was just a little fight that would eventually pass if you kept treating him nicely,as you usually did, and kept apologizing.

Always so fucking stubborn.

You were too kind, never cried, didn’t know when to quit, and never run away.

That's why you’d just hurt each other. That's just the way you two lived.

And It really pissed him off.

If being loved made his skin crawl before because he didn’t think he was deserving, wasn’t used to receiving any, like a feral snarling and hissing at some innocent girl that tried to pet it. Now he felt even worse because you made him  treat you like this, made him an even more horrible man than he already was . For him to be so cruel to such a sweet little thing, he hated himself even more.

There were worse things he could do. He could make it very clear if he put a hand on you, slapped you across the face just once. But he couldn’t, no matter how horrible he thought he was, how irredeemable his soul was, there was always a voice at the back of his head saying "Don't be like your father" eerily similar to his mum's.

He doubted it would work anyway, seeing his mum still stayed with that piece of shit.

So he did the next worst thing he could think of.

…

Heavy boots stepped into the dimly lit bar, and with a slow, deliberate motion as  he settled onto a stool and ordered a glass of whiskey. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the low hum of conversation. His eyes flickered sideways, scanning his surroundings with a sharp unreadable look. The bar was filled with a mix of tired regulars and weekend wanderers. He made no move, but there was something in his posture, in the way his fingers drummed lightly against the bar, that suggests he was waiting for something. Or someone.

His presence attracted attention immediately when he stepped in. Curious glances strayed to him before trailing away at the sight of his intimidating demeanor. He was used to that, he was not new to this game. And as expected, soon enough a pair of eyes lingered. A woman, confident and clearly interested, slid into the seat beside him, nursing a cocktail. She glanced his way, smirking slightly. 

“You look like you got a lot on your mind..” She purred with a tilt of her head.

“Maybe.” He lifted his glass, voice still quiet.

The woman took a long sip of her cocktail, humming with intrigue.

“You waiting on someone?” She asked.

“No,” He responded.

And then there was silence, not uncomfortable but thick with something unspoken. He let her watch him, feeling her gaze trailing from head to toe, admiring his physique, and seemed to like what she saw. 

But he didn’t meet her gaze directly. Taking another sip of whiskey, he then set the glass down.

“Just.. seeing who’s around.” He mumbled before he finally looked at her.

The woman raised a brow, interest sparking. She then smirked, stirring the ice in her glass with a lazy flick of her wrist. And then leaned in slightly, testing the waters.

“So, just looking? Or hoping to find something?” She asked as she fluttered her eyelashes.

His eyes settled on her like a slow burn which made her blush. Even though his mind was somewhere else, she didn’t seem to notice though.

He lifted his whiskey, taking a slow sip. “Haven't decided yet.” He spoke, not quite answering, not quite denying.

She exhaled a soft laugh. “Mysterious. That your thing?”

He responded with a shrug. “Just don’t waste words”

She watched him for a moment, like she was trying to figure out if he was a challenge worth pursuing. “And if I wanted to waste a few?”.

He didn’t smile, but he set his glass down, turning his body just a fraction more toward her. She was pretty enough, and clearly interested in him. He wasn’t picky anyway, just needed anyone to get this done with.

“Guess that depends on how you’d do it.” He responded.

“Well... I could start with a name..” She said before telling hers and asking  for his. But he couldn’t care less. His mind was a mess, making it a struggle to pay attention.

Without hesitation, he gave her an old name he hadn’t used in a while. A name that separated who he was and what he did. And what he was doing right now, was almost as horrible as what he had done in the military.

“Ghost?” She asked playfully like she thought he was joking.

He took another sip of his whiskey and said nothing. 

“Alright.. Ghost,” She purred and leaned in even closer, being bolder. “What’s a man like you doing here alone?”

“Maybe I was waiting for someone worth wasting time on,” He answered bluntly.

That seemed to intrigue her even more rather than discourage her. She tilted her head, grinning. He was quiet, but not passive. He was waiting, watching, letting her step into his space but not too close. It was a different kind of confidence. The kind that makes people lean in without even realizing it.

“Lucky me, then,” She said before taking another sip of her cocktail.

The conversation stayed slow, measured. He didn’t flirt the way most men do, didn’t try to impress. He just listened. Let the silence stretch when it needed to. And somehow, that made her want to fill the spaces with more.

Another drink. Another shift closer.

“You gonna make me do all the work here?” She said after a lull in the conversation, tilting her head playfully, teasing.

He blinked at her, slowly. “Thought you were enjoying yourself.” He mumbled, keeping his eyes on her.

She laughed, shaking her head. “You gonna take me somewhere quieter, or are you just going to keep watching me like that?”

Finally. He didn’t know if he could take another back and forth. He just wanted to get to the point.

He didn’t answer immediately. Just finished his whiskey, set the glass down, and stood up.

“Let’s go,” He said. She followed.

The rest of the night was a blur. Lips locking with each other as soon as he opened the door to his flat, his feet moved on their own, stumbling in a dance that led them to his bed. Her hands pulled on his clothes, and soft giggles escaped her lips when he went down on her.

Came to think of it, it was the first time he had  brought  a stranger over to this flat he now called home. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to one-night stands , but he never could be bothered to ever since he moved here. There had been too much going on in his head, even more so when you started invading his mind.

He regretted it.

Regretted not doing this sooner.

It felt good, to be able to release some steam without feelings attached. To be lusted at without being loved, engaging in pleasure with some faceless stranger he wouldn't meet again. He didn’t need to endure a loving whisper of ‘i love you’. It didn't make him feel vulnerable like when he did it with you, he was fully in charge.

…

The morning light slipped through half-closed blinds, casting long streaks across the room. The air was  thick with the remnants of last night—alcohol, perfume, the quiet warmth of tangled sheets. The woman stirred, stretching languidly before she turned towards him, only to find his back facing her as he stood by the balcony, tending to a cigarette.

“Morning,” She said softly, still drowsy.

“You should go,” Simon uttered flatly.

While he couldn’t see her face, he could hear the frown in her voice. “..What?”

He ran a hand through his already messy hair before finally meeting her gaze, his expression unreadable —cold. “Time to go” The words are clipped, no room for argument.

She sat up, gripping the sheet around her, studying him. “Wow. Straight to that, huh? No coffee, no small talk?”

He exhaled  sharply through his nose, but it’s not quite a laugh. More like an acknowledgment of how predictable this must look. “This wasn’t that.”

He kind of forgot how the morning after was. How some people expected something more and didn’t get the hint from the get-go. He was used to you who tolerated his behavior, never expecting  him to be soft or tend to you  after. You’d get up and prepare  some breakfast , while he laid there and stared at the ceiling.

He turned his head and watched as this stranger’s face contorted in irritation. She was searching for any trace of the man from last night, the one who let her in just enough to make her think there was something worth chasing. But now he’s a wall, solid and immovable. 

“Guess I should’ve seen this coming,” She said harshly, a pity to herself.

“Probably,” He responded just as blunt.

That probably stung more than it should. She exhaled, shook her head, then threw back the covers and stood up, grabbing her clothes from where they were carelessly discarded the night before. He didn’t turn away, didn’t offer to help— because why should he?

She pulled on her dress, shoving her heels onto her feet before facing him one last time. “Are you  always this charming in the morning?”.

“Just honest,” he said flatly, flicking his cigarette.

“Honest? Please. You act like you don’t want anyone close.” She sneered.

Then, he finally turned around to face her. “Now you get it” he said as his soulless eyes met her fiery ones.

Just like that, it’s over. She didn’t say another word, just grabbed her things and walked out, he followed her behind to lock the door.

And then he saw you.

What happened last night was obvious from his appearance alone, looking disheveled, shirtless, with some lovemarks across his chest. And he let you take it all in, he waited for the pang of regret to appear in his chest, for you to react, cry, yell, run. But instead, you just sighed and smiled at that woman when she passed you by.

“I have to go to work earlier today, but I  already made you some breakfast,” You said and handed him a Tupperware, kissed his cheek before walking away. Like he didn’t just cheat on you, like you were used to pretending  everything was okay.

There was a lump in his throat and he swallowed it down immediately. Regret.

He shouldn’t feel any regret, didn’t allow himself to feel it.

It was cruel to pull the knife out after he’d stabbed you deep. It was better to leave the knife in so you wouldn’t bleed out.

So he didn’t call out to you to apologize or explain himself. He simply turned around and got back inside, closing the door behind him.

Because he knew if he were to change for the better you would just forgive him, and that would be horrible. He didn’t deserve to be loved by you then and even more now after what he just did.

Best thing he could do right now is to continue what he’s doing. To hurt you so you’d eventually hate him and leave. 

This is for your own sake.

And so, he continued. Bringing strangers home each night and fucking  them without making an effort to be subtle. One time, he did it when you were home, when you could surely hear every noise  through the wall. However, it didn’t affect you in the slightest bit. You still brought him food, still greeted  him with that fucking smile, still talked to him with endearment. Like nothing happened, or that you refused to acknowledge anything had happened.

His only hope is the almost unnoticeable flicker in your eyes as you tried to hide how this had  started to affect you, how you approached  him less and less.

But you never left him.

So he’d keep doing what he could do best, to hurt. And maybe, eventually you’ll get it. Hopefully.

…

The night was calm, draped in a velvety darkness that stretched endlessly above, safe for the moon shining brightly. Its light poured through the window, stretching long, pale streaks across the floor, illuminating dust motes drifting in the still air. A distant murmur beneath the hush of the wind. The air was cool, slipping through the open window, carrying with it the faint scent of rain on the pavement.

Outside, the world was at peace, yet his room was steeped in shadow. The  air was thick, heavy, pressing down like an unseen weight. The curtains swayed slightly from the draft, their slow movement the only sign of life in the dimly lit room. 

He laid on his bed, zoning out as he stared at his ceiling. The stillness around him wasn’t peaceful—it was hollow. The kind that settled deep, coiling in the spaces between breaths. It was one of those days when he didn’t feel like doing anything, content to stay in one place all day.

So he didn’t go out for another conquest tonight. But he did need to eat, so when he heard a knock at his door, he let you in.

Now, the silence was filled with a sizzle of oil, the quiet clatter of a pan being shifted. The warmth of it seeped into the air, cutting through the lifeless stillness that had settled over him like a second skin. He stayed on the bed, while you were there, just beyond the doorway, tending to whatever was on the stove. The soft scrape of a spoon against a bowl, the rhythmic chop of a knife against the cutting board—it was all steady, unhurried, you’ve done it a hundred times before after all. Made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

His breath came a little slower now, his mind drifting between the weight of exhaustion and the quiet pull of that warmth beyond the door. He didn’t get up, not yet. But with you around the corner, the dark didn’t feel so endless.

Whatever bit of calmness he felt then was taken away when he heard another sound coming from the door.

Not a knock, but an insistent banging.

There was a feeling of unease at the back of his head, but he ignored it.

Which he soon realized to be a mistake.

“Coming..!” He heard you yell and approach the door. Being so understanding since you knew he didn’t want to meet anyone at the moment.

He closed his eyes and couldn’t help but listen to the conversation.

When you opened the door, you saw some men dressed in all black towering over you. Their expressions were hard, sharp eyes pinning you in place, giving  you goosebumps.

“Is Simon Riley around?” The one at the front asked.

Your hand gripped the handle of the door, wanting to slam it shut but you knew it would make it worse, might get them agitated, and would try to break in anyway.

“Who..? I think you got the wrong place- sorry..” You said as calmly as you could, but it seemed like you failed with how they didn’t seem to buy it.

“Don’t think we do, sweetheart.” The other said and pushed the door open with his feet when you tried to close it. His eyes caught a pair of large boots, Simon’s boots, and then glanced at the other.

Despite your best efforts, the men made their way in and immediately scattered around to search the place. Furniture  pushed around, drawers were pulled out to spill  all of its content onto the floor.

Eventually, they headed to the other rooms in the flat. And you made a mistake by trying to prevent one of them who approached the bedroom.

You sighed in relief when you saw the bed was empty. But it was too late, they noticed your reaction and knew you were hiding something.

They were now gathered around you, talking in a language you don’t understand. And then, your arm was yanked, you were being pushed around, forced to follow them as they exited the apartment.

“W-wait, where are you taking me..!? let go..!” You screamed in panic which made one of them clasp his hand to your mouth. 

“Don’t worry about it, if you’re important enough to him he’ll come to us immediately to save you..” He said, before clicking his teeth when you kept struggling.

“If not- well..” The other one behind you chuckled and reached out to grope your curves. “We could have a little fun before getting rid of you.. you’ve seen too much anyway”.

You froze at the way they leered at you. Tears welling up in your eyes before you fought back like your life depended on it– because your life depends on it.

You bit the hand on your mouth hard, kicking around, pulling, and hitting anyone at arm length.

Didn’t need to win the fight, just needed to keep struggling, make some noise until hopefully someone– anyone noticed and called for help.

They overpowered you easily, and you were starting to give up hope when a damp cloth was pressed to your nose and mouth. But of course, you were stubborn and made them struggle as much as you were.

Everything went in a blur. Suddenly, you were tossed aside when something huge rammed the one holding you to the wall. You laid on the floor, holding your head which was pounding as you tried to focus on the scene in front of you while  the world spun. Black dots danced in your vision.

Bloodshed.

A masked figure moved with lethal precision. You couldn’t see his face fully but you were certain of who he was. A knife gleamed in his grip, flashing under the dim light as he drove it into the first man’s throat. Blood sprayed, and before the others could react, he turned, slashing across another’s chest. The man screamed, stumbling backward, clutching at the gaping wound.

He moved like his old name, slipping between them, dodging fists and blades, his knife finding a home in the flesh over and over again. His body still remembered who he was before everything. The Ghost.

One man lunged at him, but he ducked, driving his knife up into the attacker’s ribs. Another came from behind—too late. The stranger spun, slashing his throat in a single, fluid motion. Bodies fell around him, the floor slick with crimson.

It was a massacre.

Simon was hiding outside all this time. He climbed out the window and kept himself flat to the wall as he waited. And he should have just stayed hidden, should have just waited until the help he called would come. That would be smarter, safer.

But he couldn’t bring himself to. Hearing your screams, your cries. He just couldn’t bring himself to do nothing. Perhaps, it was because it was the first time he saw you truly break. And he didn’t like that, even though all this time he tried to break you. Hypocrite.

For the first time ever he wanted to see that damn smile on your face.

It was as if his body moved on its own, slipping inside and going on a rampage.

You didn’t run nor hide, looking around for something to do, to be useful yourself despite how  you lacked any knowledge in combat.

A click.

The last man standing, who was trembling, raised a gun. Aimed it at him.

And you didn’t think—you just moved.

He watched you throw yourself between them. A deafening gunshot rang through the air. And  white-hot pain exploded at the side of your head.

His eyes widened at the familiar scene flashing in front of his eyes, from when the one he loved died the same way.

Your knees buckled and you fell.

Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed. His own voice that he didn’t recognize, low and furious, filled the air.

He could feel his heart thumping in his ears as he froze.

Another mistake.

Simon was too shocked, too focused on you to pay attention to the last man. 

A blinding pain exploded in his chest. His breath hitched as he stumbled, the world tilting. The force of the impact sent him to his knees. He pressed a shaking hand to his shirt, feeling warmth bloom beneath his palm.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. His body protested, his heart hammering wildly—too wildly. His pulse was erratic, his vision blurred, but he wasn’t done yet.

The gunman aimed again.

With the last of his strength, Ghost lunged, knocking the weapon aside just as it fired. The shot went wide. Knife lodged deep into the man’s throat, sending him gasping to the ground.

Then—silence.

His legs gave out, his body slumping against the bloodied carpet. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, blowing warm air beneath his mask. The wound was bad but worse than that—his heart was failing. He could feel it, every skipped beat, every strangled attempt to keep going.

The last thing he heard before slipping into unconsciousness was the distant wail of sirens.

…

When he woke, everything hurt. The sterile scent of the hospital filled his lungs, monitors beeping steadily beside him. He found himself disappointed for waking up once again, for surviving everything, to live another day. Just when he thought it was all over.

His former captain and sergeant,who had been waiting outside, were allowed in after the medical staff checked on his condition.

“How are you feeling Simon? ” John asked as he pushed his former lieutenant back down when he tried to sit up.

“Horrible,” He responded curtly.

John then explained everything that happened. Some old enemies he made in the past seeking revenge. How everything was taken care of during the time he was unconscious.

Simon just stayed silent the whole time. Not relaxing a bit at the news.

Then, John’s voice softened, as if to speak more carefully as he told him about your condition.

Brain death.

Just then, he finally relaxed. His shoulders sagged and he had to hold himself back from sighing in relief

Finally, you were gone.

A cruel thought. But really, it was better for you to not be around him anymore. You would only get hurt more whether he tried to be better or worse, it didn't  matter. And if death was the only thing that could save you from him, then so be it. Your life was torture anyway from what he’d seen, as much as his life was. If anything, he was envious.

But then John didn't stop talking.

Simon felt his heart stop as he processed every word, his limbs went cold, and his throat felt constricting.

“The gunshot had torn through scar tissue from your previous injury, weakening your heart even more. The doctors had stabilized you, but your heart wouldn’t last much longer. Without a transplant, you were living on borrowed time.” John explained his injury to him, which made Simon turn his head to look his former captain in the eyes.

No.

John smiled, not  noticing  how Simon looked at him with horror. “You would’ve died if it wasn’t for her, Simon”.

You were an organ donor.

Of course you fucking are.

He was in need of an immediate transplant and you were there, compatible with him  in a way that you two weren’t before.

His ears drowned every word  after that. He caught fragments—something about them trying to reach your family, but no one responded, and the consent form you’d filled years ago from when you signed up for the program, became a greenlight to save his life. To give up yours entirely.

"You're a lucky bastard Simon, a rare bird she was." Kyle finally spoke up beside him, and Simon looked at him who sported an apologetic smile. He wanted to punch that smile, because no- he didn’t feel lucky at all.

His heart- your heart, thumped in his chest. Climbed up his throat, to his skull, defeaning.

Simon Riley considered himself to be  a level-headed man, all the way from his childhood to his days in the military and after. He wasn’t one to make a scene.

So he didn’t recognize who was being held down to the bed by the men beside him as he started screaming and trashing  the bed, almost pulling the tubes that were  attached to him.

You were a part of him now.

He could never get you away from him, huh?

taglist : @niazrzl, @iiriam, @defronix

[carnalcrows]

YANDERE GANGSTER

☆ name: Felix Marino (Феликс Марино | Félix Marino) → "Fortunate and Of the Sea"

☆ ethnicity : Italian-American

☆ age : 34

☆ gender : Male

☆ mbti : INTJ

☆ his story : [click to proceed]

Once just a regular blue-collar worker with a simple dream—build a good life for his wife and their unborn daughter. But fate had other plans. A tragic misunderstanding led to his wife's brutal murder at the hands of a gang seeking revenge for a crime he never committed. Grief turned into vengeance, and vengeance turned into power. One by one, he eliminated those responsible, leaving no stone unturned, no soul spared. But revenge wasn’t enough—it never is. By the time the dust settled, he had built an empire from the ashes of his pain. Now, he rules one of the most feared mafia syndicates in the world, his name whispered in both reverence and terror.

He’s a ghost of the man he used to be, his heart long buried with his wife. He tells himself love is no longer for him—his wife would have hated the monster he’s become. But in a world of blood and betrayal, the past has a way of creeping back in when least expected.

☆ appearance:

Dark brown hair, always neatly styled but never too perfect—like he doesn’t care, but somehow, it still looks effortless.

Dark green eyes with brown flecks, almost black in the shadows, but strikingly green in the sunlight—if he ever lets himself stand in it.

6'2" with a lean but powerful build—every move he makes is calculated, every step, deliberate.

A face that looks carved from stone—strong jawline, sharp cheekbones, an expression that rarely changes.

Wears expensive but understated suits, always in dark colors—nothing flashy, just powerful.

Tattoos: His wife's name on one wrist, their unborn daughter’s name on the other, the only softness left in him. He has various other tattoos of flowers and snakes running down his arms and his back.

☆ personality:

Cold, calculating, and terrifyingly efficient—he doesn’t waste words or emotions.

A master of control—of himself, of his enemies, of the entire underworld.

Speaks in a quiet, measured tone, but when he gives an order, it’s absolute.

Loyalty is sacred to him—betrayal is met with ruthless consequences.

His patience is legendary, but once it runs out, there’s no going back.

Haunted by his past but refuses to show it—his grief is a private wound, one that never truly heals.

Believes emotions are a liability, yet can't fully extinguish the ghost of the man he used to be.

☆ with a lover:

He doesn’t do casual—if he lets someone in, it’s serious, but that’s a rare occurrence.

Overprotective to a dangerous degree—if you’re his, no one touches you. Period.

Doesn’t believe he’s capable of love anymore, but if it happens, it’ll be deep, intense, and consuming.

Shows love in subtle ways—protecting, providing, making sure you’re safe before you even realize you’re in danger.

Will never say "I love you" easily, but his actions will speak louder than any words ever could.

Doesn't do jealousy—he does ownership. If you're his, he makes sure you know it.

☆ strengths:

Unmatched strategic mind—he sees five moves ahead at all times.

Ice-cold under pressure—he never panics, never loses control.

Deadly with both words and weapons—he can end someone with either.

Inspires fear and loyalty in equal measure—his presence alone is enough to command a room.

Never forgets a debt—whether he owes one or is collecting one.

☆ weaknesses:

His past—no matter how much he buries it, it never truly stays dead.

Love—he tells himself he’s incapable, but if he ever lets someone in, they’d become his greatest weakness.

His wife's memory—she is both his strength and his curse, the one thing that can still make him hesitate.

He doesn't know when to stop—revenge, power, control—he always wants more.

Has built his empire alone and trusts almost no one—loneliness is his own prison.

☆ relationships:

Wife (deceased): The only woman he ever loved, the only person who ever made him truly happy. Her memory haunts him, and he wonders if she’d still recognize him now.

Unborn Daughter (deceased): A life that never got to begin, but one he still mourns every single day.

Right-Hand Man: The only person he trusts, the only one who dares to speak freely in his presence.

Enemies: Too many to count, but they all share the same fear—crossing him means death.

Potential Love Interest: If someone ever manages to break through his walls, they’ll find a man who is both terrifying and deeply, painfully human.

☆ extra:

Speaks fluent Italian, English, Russian and a handful of other languages (for business reasons).

Has a soft spot for old jazz and classical music—not that anyone would dare comment on it.

Never lets anyone see his wrists uncovered—those tattoos are the only vulnerability he has left.

Keeps a single photograph of his wife tucked inside his wallet. No one has ever seen him look at it.

[e-dubbc11]

You Don’t Know Me

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Billy’s abandonment, fluff, smooches

Word Count: 2.5K-ish

Summary: You and Billy are childhood friends, grew up together in the group home until he joined the Marines. After you lost touch, you see him years later but he didn’t see you…or so you thought.

A/N: I found the prompts from @prompts-in-a-barrel “You don’t know me. I’m not the same person anymore.” “That’s ok. I’ll get to know you again.”

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

There he was, right in front of you getting coffee.

Dressed in a designer suit and no longer wearing those old second hand t-shirts and sneakers with holes in them, you recognized his onyx colored eyes and that million-dollar smile anywhere.

It had been so long since you had seen him last, the cutest boy in the group home or more accurately the cutest boy you had ever seen had finally returned home safely from his deployments with the Marines and from the look of things, he looked like he was doing well.

It brought back the memory of when you first met.

**********

Your first night in the Ray of Hope group home was absolutely terrifying. Not only were you trying to physically recover from the car accident, you also were still trying to wrap your head around your parents being gone.

All of six years old, you were alone in a strange place with a broken arm when a cute older boy approached you as you sat on your bed, tightly clutching the stuffed frog your mother had given you. He flashed you a kind smile, looked down at the frog in your arms and asked “Can I sign your cast…Lily Pad?” Wiping the tears out of your eyes, you nodded, and he wrote his name in black marker across the top…Billy Russo.

Billy Russo was two years older than you and the first friend you made when you arrived. He showed you around, pointed out the drawer in the kitchen where the cook kept her candy stash, and asked if you wanted to sit with him at breakfast the next morning which made you smile.

You accepted his invitation and became fast friends. Billy let you follow him around whenever you wanted. You only did it when you were feeling extra lonely or extra sad and that’s when he would take the time to play board games with you or teach you how to play cards to distract you. He was like the big brother you never had but always wanted.

As long as Billy was nearby, your days were just a little bit easier.

As you got older, he protected you from bullies and from the girls who wanted Billy to be their boyfriend but he had no interest in. They were always harassing and teasing you but if Billy found out about it, no matter who it was, they would get a serious talking to.

If he looked at you with his jaw clenched and hell burning behind those doll-like eyes, your best option would be to run like hell. Billy fiercely protected you from anyone he deemed a threat and when he was 11 and you were 9, your only wish was that you could have protected him from his bully the same way he protected you from yours.

Seeing that cast on his arm reminded you of how kind he was to you when your arm was broken and you were the only one who he wanted to sign his cast.

Billy stayed in his room a lot after that happened. He read books, took naps, and sometimes you would catch him just staring at the ceiling. He was angry, ashamed, and said he never wanted to feel that way again so he was going to join the Marines as soon as he was old enough.

You would get little rewards for doing chores around the group home, every kid did, like a small cheap toy or a super bouncy ball…stuff like that. After Billy’s “accident,” you were putting dishes away and after you were done, it was time to pick your prize.

Digging through the large bucket of small toys, you found the only green toy soldier in the entire bucket. Holding it in between your fingers, you looked down at it and your lips curled into a wide smile because you knew who you wanted to give it to.

As he slept, you tiptoed into Billy’s room and left the toy soldier on the edge of his desk, on top of his books. He definitely couldn’t miss it.

Later on at dinner, Billy sat down next to you.

“Did you leave this for me, y/n?” Asked Billy, as he unfolded his hand, revealing the little green soldier inside.

With a mouthful of meatloaf, you nodded and gave him a closed mouth smile.

“Mmmm hmmm.” You replied.

After you swallowed your food, you added, “It’s not much but I thought you might like it. Maybe you can bring it with you when you go to the Marines.”

The only other person that had been allowed this close to Billy was his mother and she had only thought of what was best for herself. She never put him first or thought of him at all, really. You had the chance to pick out a little toy for yourself and instead chose to get a gift for someone else. A completely selfless act and all because you thought Billy might like it.

And he did. No one had ever done anything like that for him before.

“Thank you, Lily Pad.” He said with a warm smile and a quick hug.

You loved Billy’s nickname for you. And ever since that first night, you were “Lily Pad” to him and no one else was allowed to call you that either which made you feel special.

The two of you were hardly ever apart after that day…until the day he left.

As soon as he turned 18, Billy enlisted just like he said he would and you had to come to the realization that you were going to be alone at Ray of Hope until it was your turn to leave.

The thought of waking up every day and Billy not being there, shattered your heart and it felt like there was no way you would ever feel whole until you could see him again.

The cutest, sweetest boy you had ever met was leaving for who knows how long and it may be the last time you ever see him.

Watching Billy pack the few possessions he had, you felt a growing tightness in your chest like your heart was in a vice, being squeezed until you couldn’t breathe anymore. But you didn’t want him to see you cry like he had when you met. You couldn’t let the last time he would lay eyes on you be exactly like the first time so you tried your hardest to not let those tears fall.

He tried to make the situation a little less tense.

“You gonna miss me, Lily Pad?” He asked with that million-dollar smile and a wink.

With your arms folded protectively across your chest and leaning against the doorframe, you replied, shaking your head, “No…eh, well maybe a little.”

You cracked a smile.

Billy stopped packing and slowly walked over to you. He was wearing an old gray t-shirt and jeans and not until now, had you realized how incredibly handsome Billy was growing up to be. He had always been just the cute, nice big brother you had grown up with and now he was leaving and you didn’t want him to.

“Just a little?” Asked Billy. His voice was nothing short of mesmerizing.

Choking on your words, you replied, “Well…maybe more than a little.”

Billy propped himself up on his elbow, against the doorway as he gazed down at you. His eyes, like two pools of dark chocolate, were also smiling. You were trying to take in as much of him as possible, the way he looked, the way he smelled, and the way his voice sounded. You didn’t want to forget anything about him.

“I thought that might be the answer.” Said Billy with a slight chuckle. “I gotta go soon soooo gimme a hug, ok?”

As you wrapped your arms around his slender torso, you could hear his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It thumped loudly against your ear while you shut your eyes and remembered all the good times you had with him, making the best of both of your situations, and being the one person you could count on for anything you needed inside this awful place.

Your body started to shake uncontrollably because not only is he leaving but he’s leaving to go to war and he could get hurt or even be killed. You decided you wanted one last thing from him before he left, possibly for good.

With your head resting against his chest, you asked, “Billy? Will you do one last thing for me before you go?”

His long fingers danced up and down your spine as he replied, “Sure, y/n. What do ya need?”

Nervously, you asked him, “I-I’ve never b-been kissed before so I-I was w-wondering i-if you would…be m-my first?”

Billy was taken aback at first.

The two of you were best friends, never anything more and he always looked at you the same way you looked at him, like a sibling, like family, but in that moment the look in his eyes showed you something different like he knew this could be the last time you would ever see each other.

Unsteady on your feet, you felt your knees shaking, your heart racing and a rush of warmth across your face as Billy tilted your chin up so you were looking up into his endless brown eyes that were the color of freshly turned soil.

He inched closer to your face until you both were sharing the same air. He smelled clean like soap and sweet like candy as he cupped your cheeks and delicately pressed his lips to yours.

It was even better than you thought it would be as his mouth slanted over yours and your fingers slid through his raven colored hair. His tongue slipped into your mouth to tangle with yours as butterflies danced inside your stomach.

Clearly, he had done this before but that didn’t matter. He was kissing you now and you were loving every second of it.

As you gasped against his mouth, he asked, “Is this what you had in mind, y/n?” Before kissing you again.

“Y-yes, Billy.” You replied, breathlessly.

“You gonna miss me, NOW?” Asked Billy as a slight smirk stretched across his lips.

You pulled away slightly so you could look into his eyes again and nodded. Your eyes shined with unshed tears as you snaked your arms around Billy’s neck, pulled him in close and gently touched your forehead to his.

In barely more than a whisper, you replied, “So much. You’re my best friend, Billy.”

Billy reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and then opened his hand. It was the little toy soldier that you had given him when you were children.

“And you’re mine, my little Lily Pad.” He said. “I’ll write to you and I will be back, I promise.”

Before you could answer, a voice shouted from down the hallway, “Time to go, Russo!”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Billy.” You said, as your tears started to streak down your cheeks.

He tossed his bag over his shoulder, put the toy soldier back in his pocket, and retorted, “Who says I ain’t keepin’ ‘em?”

Billy winked, kissed you on the forehead, and started to walk down the hallway. He turned around to look at you one last time, you waved, and that was the last time you saw him…until today.

He wrote letters which you had saved. You saved them all but after he was deployed overseas, the letters came less frequent and eventually they stopped coming at all. You told yourself it was war time and he must have had way more important things to worry about than sending letters to you but it didn’t make you miss him any less.

After the barista handed him his coffee, Billy turned and headed for the door. You tried to speak and talk over the heads in front of you but your voice got caught in your throat and there was no sound.

He was gone and out of your life once again.

After grabbing your coffee, you walked out of the busy coffee shop, took a sip, and spaced out a little as you started to walk down the street.

A familiar silvery voice stopped you dead in your tracks and in the middle of a crowded city sidewalk.

“Lily Pad?” Asked Billy.

You didn’t imagine it. It was actually him.

He was still the cutest boy you had ever seen, except now he was more mature, handsome, and grown up.

The crowd outside the coffee shop seemed to disperse all at once, allowing you and Billy to walk toward one another without walking into a sea of people.

“Billy?” You answered.

He just smiled and pulled you in close for a hug.

You sat outside of that coffee shop for hours, telling each other all about your lives after the Ray of Hope group home.

Not wanting it to end, you hung on his every word as he relayed stories about his trips overseas, his fellow Marines, and what he was doing now.

Billy was the CEO of his company, Anvil and you couldn’t be prouder of him. He finally had everything he had ever wanted.

“Well, you must be VERY late for work, y/n. I’m sorry.” Said Billy.

You shrugged and replied, “I texted my boss a little while ago and told him I wasn’t gonna make it today.”

“You little sneak.” Billy said with a chuckle.

With a hitch in your voice, you finally worked up the courage to ask him, “So, what happened, Billy? One minute I’m getting letters every week, then it’s every other week, and then once a month. Finally, I just gave up hope and stopped waiting. I knew you weren’t dead because I would have been contacted. Was it something I said in one of my letters? Am I a bad kisser? I deserve to know.”

Billy looked down at the two coffee cups that were now empty and replied, “No, it’s nothing like that. It has nothing to do with you. And actually, you’re a great kisser.”

You weren’t sure if you believed him and had no doubt in your mind that Billy had been through and seen a lot from his time in the service.

“Then tell me, Billy, please.” You pleaded. “Who understands you better than I do?”

Billy’s eyes darkened, his nostrils flared, and through clenched teeth, he replied, “You don’t know me. I’m not the same person anymore.”

He was different but not necessarily different in a bad way. Of course you knew that war changed people. How could it not? But deep down, you knew the man in front of you was still the same young boy from all those years ago.

The sweet boy who befriended you right after you lost your parents, the boy who taught you how to play cards, who let you tag along when you felt extra lonely, who made it his mission to fiercely protect you from bullies, old and young, and the only boy…you have ever been in love with.

You knew he was still in there, he was still your best friend, and you didn’t want to give up on him.

Very softly, you just smiled, gently touched his hand and replied, “That’s ok. I’ll get to know you again.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @jediwizardelf @thejanecampaign @milea @folkloreofyennefer @mysweetlittledesire @mrsalwayswrite @madelynneb

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[zackmorriswifey]

While both you and Austin are having troubles in your marriage, you both find yourself secretly joining a dating app, using it as a space to vent about your inner troubles. Little did you know that you would do something that would bring you closer to understanding what went wrong.

based on the escape (piña colada song) by Rupert Holmes

✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎

It was no secret that for a while you and Austin were having problems with your marriage. Luckily, the media would never know because you showed them your most beautiful fake smiles, making it easier for you both to handle this on our own.

You did the most unthinkable thing, you downloaded a dating app. You were not using it the way that most people would think. You weren’t interested in dating anybody else no matter how bad your marriage got, you still love Austin with all your heart. This was just a space to vent.

You ended up matching with a lovely guy and you had so much in common. This guy is also dealing with issues in his marriage. You both find yourself venting your frustrations about marital problems. Without invalidating each other. A space that feels valid.

It was months and months of just talking things out. Him admitting that he would’ve never treat you like how your husband did. You made a commitment to yourself not to catch feelings, yet you almost found yourself falling in love with this man. This is just a vent session, right?

You are here just to chat with others because you felt that you didn’t have time to chat with Austin because his career keeps him very busy and any time you tried it would only start an argument. It wasn’t even worth it anymore.

Austin also downloaded the same dating app, hoping to find a nice woman to chat with, but had no idea who she really was. He started venting about his problems, most of them just sharing how much he feels as if he hasn’t been a great husband that he feels like he’s trying, but his wife is just not understanding.

He spent months talking to her and decided that she was too perfect for him. How could this girl be so right for him? Was it right for him to develop these feelings when he had a wife, this idea wasn’t right.

In the process, they find themselves communicating with this online persona more than they ever communicate with each other. They spent less and less time talking to each other, which made their marriage worse.

One day, Austin decides that he wants to invite her out for a cup of coffee in person after months of talking over the app. He felt that this was finally a good time to talk face to face and have a cup of coffee and chat.

He had to be realistic with himself and make sure that he didn’t see this as a date. It just wouldn’t be right to his wife. Little did he know.

Austin arrived at the coffee shop dressed in all black, with a black hat, trying to remain as incognito as possible. He had to lie to his wife to achieve this. It almost felt like a forbidden secret between them.

It was very odd that you also have plans that same day. You just shrugged it off. It wasn’t nothing serious to you. Maybe Austin was just too busy that day. You didn’t think much of it but you let him know you had plans as well too.

You arrive at a coffee shop wearing your cutest outfit. You may have put a little thought into your outfit today. A little more than you probably should have for a simple little friendly coffee date. You were kind of hurt that Austin didn’t take notice of your outfit and didn’t even question where you were going looking that great.

You couldn’t wait to tell your new friend all about how you felt about that. Maybe he felt the same way, looking around the coffee shop simply just hoping you'd spot him, but there was no sign. You text him through the app to make sure you had found the right location and the right coffee shop.

Once everything is set in stone, you noticed Austin. Your face turned really pale white. You've basically become a ghost. You couldn’t believe your eyes the man you have talked to for months just happened to be your husband.

So during that time when you shared your feelings, he also felt the same it almost made you wonder why you couldn’t just do that together. Why was your marriage so bad that you guys didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk things out in person.

Austin wasn’t any better either his face was pale and his hands were sweaty. He felt as if he was still committing the ultimate sin by even taking the chance of meeting this secret admirer in person. He hated to even think of it like that, but he had become accustomed to some feelings along the way.

They couldn't tell at all that they were talking to each other, or that they were falling in love with each other in the process. The two of them sat at the coffee table, trying to process all of these emotions. There are a lot of heavy words said between them and things they probably thought they would never admit to their partner.

It was a long day processing everything that had happened over the past couple of months, but it was also very cathartic. It helped them understand why they were having these problems and it made them feel a little silly that they had to go through a dating app just to get to this point.

They talk about things, they listen to each other, and then they realize there's a lot of work to do. Therapy is their best solution. They also knew they had to talk about it during therapy because it was just so odd of an experience.

Even though you both want to be mad at each other for being sneaky and lying, meeting at this coffee shop. You just couldn’t bother to care anymore. You realized you needed this, and in some weird way it helped fix your marriage.

You both decided it was best to delete the app and focus on what was important. Realizing that you need to make time to discuss the issues that are bothering you. You have to make more time and space to understand and listen to each other.

The bottom line is that this is the most healing part of your marriage journey, and things are slowly getting better for you and Austin. And you were realizing things you never realized before. You didn’t have to put on this persona for the media anymore because you were happy again.

It wasn’t an overnight success, but it definitely took a lot of therapy and a lot of listening it’s also safe to say you guys never touched the dating app again. It would be a story to tell your grandkids if it didn’t sound so crazy. You couldn’t believe it yourself and neither the therapist.

✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎ ✉︎

I made this a modern twist of the escape song. This is one of my all time favorite karaoke songs, even if it gets overplayed. It’s a guilty pleasure.

[karmathehalflander]

Eddie wraps his hoodie stings around his hands because it feels like Venom’s tendrils.

[roseband]

ew he's in nyc for some boring luxury brand's launch

[hxltic]

First time makin out with Bakugo.

suggestive!!

Ur laying down, splayed on top of him, but who can say anything about it? You saw the black tee and sweatpants combo he flaunts while he was casually making food in the kitchen. You’d practically jumped him.

But he didn’t mind; his temper deteriorates later into the night, so the only thing he can feel right now is your fingers wrapped around his neck and your lips slowly dancing against his. Not that he had much of a temper around you anyway.

He groans satisfactorily in the back of his throat. The pads of his fingers creep up the thighs sat on either side of his hips and trickle just under the fabric of your shorts. There was no point getting under the covers of the dark bedroom, the only light came from a candle on the dresser from sometime earlier when you were cleaning, and the only sounds emanated from you two.

That moment he gently tugs your lip between his teeth, just to release it and grin tiredly when you hum in response. At the same time, you shift above him, turning your head into a deeper kiss.

His lips are so soft. They move perfectly against yours, molding like they were made for each other. He looks so content like this, sharing a sultry kiss with you, his body completely relaxed. Mostly.

Your tongue slips out to meet with his as if it had been done a billion times. His touch sends fire through your skin, and with each movement he gets even closer, your heart feels like it’s about to pound through your ribs; however, despite how it appears to be, he is in the same breathless boat. Your hand only disconnects from him to brush the falling tendrils of hair behind your ear.

There was a hardness growing beneath you that made your heart beat ten times faster, but nothing was done about it. He ignored it—instead trailing one of his palms up and down the span of your back while the other reaches a little further.

His brows furrow a bit when he inquires as softly as possible, in his gruff voice, “You’re not wearin’ anything under these tiny shorts?”

You dip your head back to his lips, taking them in sensually. Of course, he returns it, but the question is left in the air. Your mouth leaves his so you can leave slow, needy kisses along his jaw that gradually cover his neck, and when you come back up, the answer is given as a whisper. “Hmm…thong.”

He blinks open his orbs swimming with fire and a glint of amusement. The hand on your back then moves to your nape so he can tug you down to him, already feeling the withdrawal of your taste. Simultaneously, his fingers inch all the way up until he can feel the garment himself.

He effortlessly slips his finger under the thin string and lifts it until he can’t anymore so that it delicately snaps back into place. His tongue soars deeper into yours when you react with a small gasp.

He smiles with a low sound deep in his chest, “Seems like you want somethin’ from me.”

“I do,” you breathe. “Didn’t wear it for nothing.”

It’s then he rolls over, taking you with him onto your back.

©️hxltic

[constellationguy]

Lies the Genshin Men say

*little explicit here and there*

Explicit sections: Childe, Dottore-ish, Kaeya, Baizhu

The Harbingers

Pierro: He says he prefers to see you in his colors, mainly blues and black. Truthfully he adores you in red. He can’t keep his hands off you when you wear red. He also buys you anything that’s red, dresses, shoes, lipstick, flowers, all because the color reminds him of you. For events he prefers you to wear jewelry with darling bright sapphires but your jewelry case is filled with too many rubies to count.

Il Capitano: He says he prefers his hair straight and unrestrained. The truth is he will fall asleep if you play with or style his long back hair. Capitano feels the most loved when you are braiding his hair or giving him a scalp massage. When he misses you he braids his hair but he starts at the nape of his neck because his big fingers can’t braid from the top of his head like you do.

Pantalone: He claims he doesn’t care what perfume you wear. This statement is partly true. During galas and social functions he tells you to wear sents that are known to be pricey but not oppressive, expensive and understated he says. However at home he loves your natural sent, with out shame he will set you on his lap and tuck his face into your neck and take a deep breath, it seems like a sigh but he really is smelling you.

Childe: He tells you he loves everything about you equally, but it’s clear that he adores your boobs the most. Ajax loves to hug you from behind and squeeze or caress your chest while hugging you and will whine and beg to let him if you deny him. He loves to burry his head in your chest after a long day. When you don’t wear a bra you can persuade him to do pretty much anything.

Scaramouche: He tells you that he doesn’t care if you learn Japanese or not. In reality his knees will buckle if you call him “anata”, after you two got married. When you speak with him in Japanese he is so much more animated and emotional. His heart swells with pride when you two speak Japanese in domestic settings. Sing to him in Japanese and he will cry and or fall asleep.

Dottore: He claims to be dominant, which he is, most of the time. He will boss anyone around and make them conform to his will, but he will burn the world for you if you wanted. You tell him to jump and he will ask how high. He will also be extra pliant if you tug on his hair a bit.

Mondstadt

Albedo: He tells you he doesn’t mind not having a “domestic” relationship. In truth he loves seeing you play with Klee. He loves when you cook for him. He loves coming home to you, if he could freeze time to stay in those homey moments he would.

Diluc: He tells everyone that he doesn’t play any instraments. However at home he will play the sweetest melodies for you on the piano. His playing is for your ears only. The only other people he will play for is your future children.

Kaeya: He promises you that he will never hurt you. However, he will bite, scratch, and suck on your skin all day every day if you let him. He adores leaving possessive marks on you as well as giving you painful pleasure, the best kind of pleasure in his book.

Venti: He claims to be chill and not possessive at all. But he will stare and scowl at people being flirty with you. He will place his hands possessively on your waist when anyone gets too close to you. He would keep you locked up at home if he could, he just could never share you with anyone.

Liyue

Baizhu: Baizhu claims to dislike your bossiness, but in fact in almost any scenario it kinda turns him on. He loves when you use him for your own pleasure. He loves when you tell him what to do to make you happy or to get you off.

Xiao: He tells you that he doesn’t want anymore people in his life. However, he truly wants a few kids of his own running about, helping him make breakfast for you every morning. The thing he wants most is a family with you.

Zhongli: Not exactly a lie but Zhongli doesn’t like you eating non home cooked food. Any food that isn’t made by someone he trusts, he won’t let you eat. However whenever you’re feeling down or kind of out of it he will order food and bring it home to make you smile.

Inazuma

Goro: He tells everyone who asks that he hates his ears and tail touched, everyone is too rough with them. On the other hand, you’re so gentile with him, when you play with his hair that he can’t help but enjoy when you gently pet his ears.

Kazuha: He will tell you that the world is inspiration. He tells you his poems stem from the sights he sees and emotions he feels as he travels. But in truth Kazuha has not written one poem without you on his mind, you have been his muse and inspiration since you met.

Ayato: He says he doesn’t mind what you wear. But he can’t help but feel happy when you wear the expensive silk sets he bought you. Silk just fits you for some reason. To him silk complements your soft skin perfectly, the smooth reflective fabric just radiants and amplifies your beauty.

Heizo: Whenever he is tired he will go on and on about how he “isn’t sleepy” or how he’s “just gonna rest his eyes.” This man is stubborn when it comes to going to bed. He just wants to spend more time with you. You might have to make him tea and scratch his back while he lays on you to get him to fall asleep without a fuss.

Thoma: He claims to be neither here or there on who cooks meals. In actuality in his brain he cries and begs for your cooking. It could be any cuisine and he will be happy. He just loves your cooking and your adoration especially after a long day of taking care of others.

Itto: Itto tells anyone and everyone that he’s married to you. He just loves you so much and fantasizes about your wedding to much sometimes he forgets you’re not actually married yet.

Sumeru

Alhaitham: He tells you that you can sleep by yourself. In reality you and him both know you can’t sleep without each other. If you’re angry with him and you sleep on the couch you two will end up making up in the night when he comes to pick you up and take you back to your shared bed.

Cyno: He claims to not get jealous often but truthfully he craves your attention and gets jealous when he doesn’t get it. He knows how his friends don’t favor his humor so he gets a little insecure when you laugh at their jokes sometimes. Just know he will be clingy behind closed doors to make up for being jealous of his own friends.

Kaveh: Everyday he tells you that he won’t overwork himself, he will take breaks today. He doesn’t, no matter how determined he is he will not take a break until you make him. On days when he’s stuck in his head you have to visit him while he’s at work or at home so he can come back down to earth here and there.

Tighnari: He will complain anyone who will listen about how he hates going into Sumeru city for one thing or another. However he will be giddy when he goes onto Sumeru City to visit you. While he doesn’t like the city, it isn’t so bad when you’re with him.

Fontaine

Lyney: He claims to love all the ways you touch him. However he does have a favorite, he loves when you scratch and massage his back. When you work through his back with your skilled hands he is a happy groaning mess. After a massage he will be like a napping pile of jello. Cuddles with a now loose muscled Lyney are so heart warming.

Neuvillette: He hates the taste of coffee, that’s a plain fact. However, he can’t help but enjoy the taste of coffee if it’s from your lips. The quick good morning kiss you give him as you sip on your coffee makes his head dizzy instead of disgusted like he normally is at the taste of coffee.

Wriothesley: He claims he doesn’t mind you going out alone or without him. Truthfully you are never actually without his surveillance. He has a tracker on your phone and he sends one of his coworkers to make sure you are always safe.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Granny's Sugar Cookies

Summary: Working in Hero Force’s mail room is the equivalent of being a poison taster for monarchs – it wasn’t a matter of if a disgruntled citizen was going to send Hero Force a bomb, but when.

Based off this prompt (X)

--------.

Travis, your supervisor, makes you take Disposal Training every two weeks to keep your skills fresh for the inevitable day something does show up in the mail.

“You’re lucky,” Travis says with his wide arms folded over his chest. He still wears the mail uniform from the 90’s with the pale blue, short-sleeved button down and the darker blue pinstripes. The Hero Force mask covering half of his face is in the new “regulation black” that every Hero Force personnel has to put on at the start of every shift. You hear Travis complain that they won’t let him wear the old brown one a lot. “But luck won’t ever take you further than training, kid.”

You aren’t a kid. In fact, Travis could almost be your kid. Your pension isn’t supposed to start for another three years, so that’s how long you need this job to last. There are rumors that Travis is trying to get you to quit before then as a way to prevent you from collecting retirement benefits from Hero Force. Save the company some money. You don’t think that’s true. You think that the extra training every second week is actually Travis’ way of being kind – you get to sit in the air-conditioned office for two hours and watch the same videos with your feet propped up.

Still, it is unusual that you haven’t opened anything criminal yet. Lots of people cautioned you against taking the job. Your neighbors, friends, your husband…even your eldest -who also works for Hero Force and who suggested it to you in the first place. They said it was the equivalent of being a poison taster for monarchs – it wasn’t a matter of if a disgruntled citizen was going to send Hero Force a bomb, but when.

“I don’t think it happens as often as people think,” you’d told your husband and child when the offer letter came. What you didn’t say was we don’t have a choice. You’d laughed and petted the coffee table. “Now maybe we can think about getting this old thing refinished, hm?”

Three years isn’t a long time anymore, not with a good 63 of them already under your belt. When the financial advisor ran the numbers and grimly told you how long you’d need to stay in the workforce, you’d been relieved. You’re fortunate that being a baker for most of your life has kept you reasonably fit and that you’re used to being on your feet.

Still, eight hours is a long time for anyone to be staring at bland white envelopes and brown boxes wrapped with yellow tape, so you’re thinking longingly of the bath you know your husband will have drawn for you at home when the blast doors slam down over the exit, trapping you and three of your coworkers in the sorting room.

You blink at the heavy metal plate that nearly took your (seemingly ever-growing) nose right off your face. The WARNING light hanging above the door is lit, casting the room in a striking red glow.

“You scanned that here?” Ring asks. He’s over at the sorting table, standing over the new hire’s shoulder. He gapes down at the screen held between her hands. It shows an x-ray of the box sitting innocuously on the sorting table. “Boxes with that dimension are supposed to be scanned in the disposal room!”

“It’s my last package,” the new hire says. You have to strain to hear her voice despite only being a dozen feet away. She’s already been given a nickname – Mouse. Fear makes her even quieter than before. “I-I thought—It’s to Strongwoman. Who would even think sending her a bomb would work? She got hit by a bus last week and the bus lost.”

“You know we don’t sort based on recipient,” Hawk says, pinching the bridge of her nose under her mask. She’s the veteran in the room, gaining her nickname from being the longest surviving member of the mail room after Travis and for having the highest number of successful disposals in history. Hawk eyed. “Your scan just told the defense system there’s a bomb in a vulnerable part of headquarters. We’ll be trapped here until they can get Demolition out to disarm it.”

“Or until it goes off,” Ring offers helpfully. Ring stands for ring the alarm, something he’s always doing. “Which it probably will before Demolition flies over from freakin’ California.”

Mouse hiccups. Her hands tremble on the scanner. “I-I’m sorry. Maybe it’s not…it could be something else?”

Ring and Hawk look at each other over her head. Ring tilts his head to the scanner. Hawk’s lips thin.

Translation: Unlikely.

“Maybe,” Hawk says. She puts a comforting hand on Mouse’s shoulder. “The only way to tell for sure is to open it.”

“Which protocol says we shouldn’t do,” Ring says.

You rub your nose. You don’t have to go to the bathroom this second, but you know your body. Protocol is not to carry a phone in the sorting room, so none of you have a way to you’re your husband and let him know you’ll be late. “How long do you think it will take for a disposal team to arrive? Supposing there’s one besides Demolition.”

Three heads whip towards you. There’s a range of emotions there, from surprise to dismay to dread.

“Oh no,” Mouse whispers, “I’ve killed Granny too.”

“If you survive, no one will ever forgive you,” Ring says.

Mouse’s eyes well with tears. “R-really?”

“Even Neon loves her muffins—"

Hawk hits him over the head hard enough his mask slips down over his eyes. While he curses and sets it to rights, she says, “Sorry, Granny. We’ll probably be waiting a while.”

You tug at your cardigan and shuffle over. The box is too big to be scanned in the sorting room – about the size of a case of flour you used to get delivered to the shop. The three of them make room for you on their side of the table. You squint at the screen. “What type of bomb is it?”

“Not like any I’ve seen before,” Hawk says. She takes the scanner from Mouse and angles it towards you. The box is shown in green and black lines. Inside is a cube of white and some curly bits. There are strange shadows across each shape, as if there are layers and layers of something over the top. “You?”

You raise your eyebrows. You thought it was common knowledge. “Well, I’ve never seen one before outside of training.”

Mouse starts. “Never seen—”

“Granny is lucky,” Ring says. He pats her on the shoulder like Hawk had. It’s nowhere near as comforting. “You’re just unlucky enough to have canceled that out.”

You pull out your glasses. You’re supposed to get the mask with your prescription over the eyes to prevent anyone from recognizing your personal eyewear. You think the prescription masks are itchy, however, so you regularly sneak them in your cardigan pocket. The scanner remains incomprehensible to you, even with them on. “It doesn’t look anything like it does in training.” You frown as the curls begin to look like ribbon the longer you stare at them. “Are you sure this is a bomb?”

“The defense system triggered on it,” Hawk says.

You wave your hand. These new AI systems are wrong all the time. You recently saw a news article about how the facial recognition software at the Hero Academy failed to pick out a top journalist, allowing him complete access to the campus. “They wouldn’t have us here sorting if the system were infallible.”

A strange look crosses Hawk’s face. “That’s one perspective.”

“It’s a state-of-the-art system,” Ring tells Mouse in a low tone. You imagine he thinks you can’t hear him or the faint laughter in his voice. “It’s not wrong.”

That grates. You may be new to the sorting room, but you aren’t wrong to question the systems. You point. “It could be cookies. See these disks here? Sugar cookies, I used to make a recipe just as thick. They’ve been very popular to send to Strongwoman lately; she must like them. And that’s the ribbon tying the box closed.”

“No,” Ring says. “No, it’s not cookies, Granny.”

Your spine stiffens. “I think it is.”

“Granny,” Hawk says tentatively. “Do you…often think things like these are cookies?”

“People do send the heroes a lot of baked goods,” you say. “It’s the best way to show gratitude!”

Mouse’s jaw drops. In a normal voice, she says, “You’ve been sending bombs onto heroes thinking they’re cookies?”

“Because they are,” you say.

“Oh my god,” Ring says. “Granny has seen a bomb, she just hasn’t recognized one before. Oh my god.”

You’re too old to stamp your feet. Instead, you narrow your eyes at Ring like you did when your eldest drew on the walls. “I have not. I open each package—”

“You open them?!”

“Protocol—"

“-and they’re always just cookies,” you say. You snag the package before any of them can move. “I’ll prove it to you!”

There’s a bit of a scuffle. Mouse doesn’t move out of the way of Ring’s lunge in time, and they both topple onto the table. Hawk tries to yank the package away from you, shouting something or other about better to be cautious or Granny stop! But you’re stronger than they think. They may call you Granny, but you’re only 63! Do they think you need a cane to walk?

You rip open the tape. Mouse screams. Ring whimpers. Hawk closes her eyes tight. You shake out the contents of the box.

A pink pastry plops out of the package and onto the scanning table. The three of them are frozen, eyes darting over the pretty ribbon curled into a bow holding it closed. With an indignant huff, you use a letter opener to cut the ribbon and flip back the lid.

Sugar cookies in six sloppy rows and stacked four deep sit inside.

“See?” you say triumphantly. “Sugar cookies!”

Hawk’s brow is furrowed. “That’s not—that can’t be—”

The bomb doors slide down and the WARNING light switches off. The system beeps three times and then falls silent. The quiet that fills the room sounds like victory.

“…so I can go home now?” Mouse asks.

“Yes,” you say smugly. You know it’s bad manners, but all the excitement has dropped your blood sugar. You snag a cookie and bite into it. “We all can.”

Ring and Hawk stay behind, staring from the box to each other and back again as you go home.

----.

You have two days off, and then Travis is off the day you come back so it takes three days for someone to tell you it was a bomb in that box.

That someone is Foresight, the leader of Hero Force.

He looks out of place in the sorting room, smiling and standing by the door as you shuffle from cart to cart to collect your jobs for the day. Travis is there with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed on Foresight.

“We call your class of power S-class,” Foresight explains. “The ability to change reality with a thought – it’s only been observed in a handful of super-powered individuals.”

“I don’t care what power she has,” Travis says. “You aren’t poaching Granny.”

“I would also like to stay in the mail room,” you say.

Foresight opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. He looks bemused as he says, “Alright then. We do need to quantify your power. Does Thursday work for you?”

“Yes,” Travis answers for you. “We’ll be there.”

Your ears perk up. Maybe it will be a long meeting. Maybe you’ll have a chance to sit down. “Thursday it is then. I’ll bring some snacks for everyone.”

----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to support me and see stories like this one before anyone else, please consider checking out my Patreon(X)!

Next week's story is already posted and is a follow up to this story (X) about Nadezh and Gannon

[lovegasmic]

HOT MILF NEXT DOOR

──── Kento, Toji, Sukuna x f!reader.

cw. age gap ( all characters are 25-29 and reader around 44-46 ) , creampie , breeding kink , trophy wife cheating on your husband with a younger plumber Toji ( Megumi doesn't exist ), oral, rough sex with Sukuna ( you babysit Yuuji ) uncle Sukuna.

original full post in the title, I had to re post this bit because I deleted the original reblog by accident. this is mostly just to back up

hot dilf next door out now 𖥔 satoru, suguru, choso version 𖥔 genshin version

KENTO !

the faint mark of a ring around your finger, the soft thud of boxes being left on the sidewalk, all leading to the moment your youngest child finally moves to college, sharing teary goodbyes and hugs as you wave them one last time. so, you’re finally alone...

Kento is not a creep, nor does he intend to sneak his way into your heart the moment you’re finally alone, no, he wants to offer nothing but support.

he walks to your home with easy steps, casual and unconsciously wearing his best suit, not that he wants to impress you, it’s just a coincidence.

“you’re so mature for your age” is what you say, and everyone does, to be honest, but somehow coming from you is not that bad anymore, does that mean you could actually give him a chance?

a tray of freshly baked cookies is placed upon your kitchen counter, a gift from Kento that’s now long forgotten, too busy listening to your complaints with no ill intentions behind them, just sharing how though life has gotten, but don’t worry, Kento has promised to stick with you.

you’re such a pretty woman to cry, each one of your tears tugging at his heartstrings, and his rough and large hands are the perfect comfort for your aching heart.

none of you actually notice when the atmosphere changes, when your soft sighing against his neck turned into whimpers of pleasure by having two of the man’s fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, rapidly dragging the tips across your fluttering inner walls and palm eagerly rubbing your swollen, needy clit.

“that’s it, gorgeous, you’re doing so well” all you need is some relief, of your burdens and sexual tension building up from so long, Kento is more than happy to help, gently scissoring his fingers into your pussy, a bit more stretch so you can accommodate his cock next. you look much better when you’re crying in pleasure, pawing on his shoulders while guiding the thick head of his cock to push past the slight resistance of your pussy, every little vein throbbing and massaging the ache inside.

gushing pussy, welcoming every inch into the depths of your body, almost immediately starting to suck on the girth, squishing your soft breasts against the toned and smooth expanse of Kento’s chest, each muscle rubbing on your nipples so addictively sweet your pussy pulses even more.

the blonde has often mentally slapped himself for lewdly thinking how you’d look fucked, although the image in his head could not compare to the real thing, forcing his load to blow as deep as possible into your sweet pussy, hands on your soft hips, grinding you down until you squeak and cum, creating a bigger white-ish mess on your laps with the diluted semen seeping out of you.

instead of sulking in your sadness, you should ride his cock more often.

TOJI !

working several jobs at once was never an easy chore, but the black haired managed, one had to do whatever it took for some money. and the fancy apartment building you lived was something he could only dream about, compared to his shabby room where he just slept and jerked off to the thought of you.

“where is the leak?” his rough voice echoes, contrasting with the way too fancy and perfect state of your penthouse, fixing his thick denim pants with a tool belt attached, attempting to hide the bulging erection at the sight of you on that flimsy robe you loved to wear.

you’re so soft, with gorgeous curves as you guide him into the kitchen, are you swinging your hips just for him, or is it his lust clouded imagination?

“would you like something to drink?” you offer so sweetly, already grabbing a glass while Toji slides under the kitchen sink, checking the... perfectly maintained pipelines.

with a raised brow, he stays there, pretending to fix a non existent leak, “a lemonade would be good, thank you, doll” he tries, hoping that little nickname will bring him good luck later. the way his thighs spread when he hears you around is definitely made on purpose, can you see how hard he is for you?

once the... job was done, Toji sips on his cooling drink, eyes scanning the adjacent living room where a framed picture of you and your husband hangs, he’s too old, and you’re clearly a trophy wife.

“how much do I owe you?” you bat your eyelashes, and the flutter mimics the pulsing of his cock.

“don’t worry about it, doll, is not a big deal” Toji attempts to play his cards, hitting on your heart first with a closer step, checking your reactions.

“oh, please, Toji...” it’s a low purr and you’re doing it on purpose, “at least let me thank you for your help”

what a little minx, with soft manicured hands on his broad chest, eyes cute and filled with lust while staring up at him, a pretty thing like you needs to get fucked, and it seemed like you needed it bad.

the framed family picture smiles down at your bent over form, robe flipped open, panties pooling around one of your ankles and Toji’s thick cock plunging into your soaked hole, earning a very slight spank on a jiggling ass cheek, “take it, doll, fuckin’ take this cock in your gorgeous pussy”

a mewl seeps past your lips like the string of drool pooling on the kitchen island, pussy fluttering around the girth, desperate to pull deeper, to suck as much as your hole could possibly take.

it doesn’t take long for you to cream his cock, having it abusing the deepest part with perfectly angled hips was quite easy to send you over the edge, your toys were good, but fuck, Toji knows what he’s doing.

a thumb hooks on the side of your cheek, pulling your soft folds open to stare down at the flutter, at the way you’re spread and speared on his cock, at his mercy. “that’s it, doll, take my cum” he grunts, balls pulsing and squished against your clit while his thick semen fills your womb.

“that um, pipe might break soon, call me again” he winks, now fully dressed and with a fat wad of bills you tucked in his shirt pocket.

SUKUNA !

“do I have to do it?” Sukuna groans in annoyance, gripping the phone where his brother spoke through.

“i don’t have anyone else to pick Yuuji, just do it once”

with another groan he agrees, hanging up the call while shrugging the girl clinging on his arm, the frat party is as annoying as ever, his life as boring as ever.

hands shoved in his pockets he waits for you to open the door, impatiently tapping on the floor as if he had something better to do than take care of his little nephew until Jin came out of work. he’s damn tired, almost about to knock again until you open, angelically smiling at him with a little Yuuji perched on your hip.

“hello, you must be Sukuna”

he wants to knock you up.

in a blink, that cocky smirk is again in place, “that’s me, i’ll take the brat now” then he’s pulling Yuuji onto his side much against the small boy grumbling.

what a good brother and uncle is Sukuna, offering to pick up Yuuji from now on, what a kind soul, making you open up to him more and more until he’s comfortably sitting on your couch, baby Yuuji sleeping upstairs and a warm, flirty laugh echoes through the living room. Sukuna knows you’re aware of his advances, and who you are to refuse a cute, ripped and younger boy’s attention.

and that dick was to die for.

“fuck, sweetheart, you’re a pro” he grins, licking across his teeth while you slobber all over his cock, tongue and lips caressing the fat girth, saliva dripping to coat his full and heavy balls slapping against your chin, “made for take my cock down your tight throat, fuck!”

you can feel your juices dripping down your thighs, pooling on the wooden floor, while you feast on Sukuna’s thick musky scent, adding to the soft pulse and slight salty taste of the tip hitting the back of your throat.

thank fuck he does not keep you waiting, “come here, get on your knees, I need to cum in your cunt”

who are you to refuse such a sensual order? shakily climbing on the leather couch that squeaks under your knees, fingers twisting around the armrest while Sukuna pushes into, “is that how you fuck your classmates?” oh, baby, you’re screwed.

Sukuna takes that as a challenge, arching your back, spreading your asscheeks and pounding into your hole, adoring the slapping sound of his balls slapping your wet flesh, soaking in your warmth, “i’ll show you how I fuck a gorgeous woman like you” and he does, trying to prove you how he’s more than a cocky, pretty face, having you squeaking his name, begging to be creampied until next week.

his eyes are hooded, strangely overwhelmed by your pussy, by the easy glide that welcomes more and more into your depths, begging, craving, crying for his cock, to be pounded into oblivion. “i need to keep you full of me, smelling like me” each word is accentuated by a thrust, ignoring the way his balls clench in a signal that he is about to cum.

“ah, u-ungh... Sukuna, ah, you feel so good, love” why does the tenderness in your voice make his tip twitch and splurt another wave of pre?

“yeah, sweetheart? you like it? you love how I pound your creamy pussy?” almost breathless, panting in attempts to hold back a strong orgasm, needing to drive you insane first, to have you gushing, squirting all over his thick cock before he finally, finally gets to claim that sweet release inside your willing, still very much fertile body.

[thebestsetter]

Rin likes black.

Call him emo or depressed or cringe or whatever works best for you. He uses ONLY black things.

His shirts are all black. He shows up to practice wearing the team's black kit. His car is black. He answered a interview saying that his favorite color was black (although he disliked the question and thought it was unecessary - he's here to talk about football, goddammit!) Hell, even the Keychain on his black backpack is a black and white sad face.

He likes black. Actually, scratch that. He loves it.

So, his team can't help but feel confused when he suddenly comes to practice with the team's pink kit, which he swore ("cross my heart and hope to die" kind of thing) that he'd NEVER wear. He even said it was because you accidentally washed it during laundry day it was still not dry. (Ha. As if. He had like 10 of those).

And then he came with that same kit the other day. And the day after that. And the day after that day too.

And, suddenly, things weren't so black anymore.

His backpack, which now was adorned with pink hello kitty stickers, had a smiley pink and white Keychain attached next to the black and white one. His car had pink details on the leather seats, and his shoes were black and pink.

It was strange, to say the least. That was until they couldn't really take it anymore. Seeing a pink hair tie around his wrist hut the final nail in the coffin.

"So... uhm... Rin." Isagi started, Bachira and Nagi curiously watching behind him "If I remember correctly, you said before your favorite color is black, right?"

"It is" Rin deadpanned.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them while Rin waited for Isagi to answer and Isagi waited for him to say something else. It was quickly interrupted by Bachira's excited "Ask already!"

"But... uhm... I see you took a liking to... pink things. Why's that?"

"Oh" Rin clearly wasn't expecting this question. He stared into Isagi's eyes and then looked down to tie his shoelaces "I don't like pink"

"Huh?" Nagi made a noise behind them, and just then did Rin notice those two

"But you have lots of pink things now!" Bachira said, getting behind Itoshi and shaking his shoulders, obtaining an eyeroll from him

"I dislike pink" he shook Bachira's hands off and sighed "I wear it only because my girlfriend loves it"

"Fair enough!"

"Oh."

"Okay, well, that actually makes sense"

"Owwnnn, is Rinnie so in love with his girlfriend that he wear pink just for her?" Seriously, who called Shidou here anyways?

But what made Rin hate him even more was the fact that he was right. He did wear pink only for you.

He was getting tired of you nagging at him for only having black shirts (and he also loved your smiling face when you saw him dressed like a Barbie doll, but that's on second thought or at least he likes to pretend it is.)

Don't get me wrong, black is still his favorite color. But you're his favorite thing in the whole world, so take a guess on who wins this one.

Black: 0

You: 1

Quick note: Rin loves when these two things are together. So imagine his reaction to you on a black dress on your 1 year anniversary. Bro almost fainted.

I hate school somebody HELP ME

Not proofread cause I'm sleepy and lazy. Deal with it.

Masterlist

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

mechanic jason! smut

older mechanic jason who is always covered in grease and oil whilst working on cars, and either wore a flimsy white tank stained with lil and grease or completely shirtless. though, it was usually the latter.

his large hands could easily grip the tools which looked comically small in his grasp, like children’s toy. the muscles in his bicep would flex and become more pronounced as he worked on the car, and the veins on his hands becoming more prominent.

his garage was old, rusty and dark. the lighting was quite dim with only one main source of overhead light, oil and grease stains on the dark concrete floor and the sound of his occasional grunts and curses when working on a stubborn car.

essentially, this place was not meant for a girl that looked soft, prim and proper. he remained focused as he worked on an old convertible, with the hood popped up. the summer heat and the lack of air ventilation resulted in jason ditching his tank and working shirtless, his bare skin glistening with sweat.

when he heard small footsteps coming closer he spoke up gruffly,

“what can i help you with?” he asked without even looking up, still focused on fixing the car.

“i need an engine repair, i think,” a soft voice responded which resulted in him turning his head.

he tried to suppress the shock that entered him when he first saw you, the juxtaposition couldn’t be more obvious. prim and proper against his rugged dirty state.

“an engine repair?” he questioned, as he wiped his grease stained hands on an old rag before walking to where she had parked outside his garage, the pink convertible couldn’t be more telling of her personality. spoiled, princessy, high maintenance.

he watched as you followed him like a lost puppy, as you nodded. clearly, you didn’t know a thing about cars.

“i can take a look at it now, i just finished up with the other one back there,” he motioned to the black convertible he was working on in the garage.

he tried to turn his gaze away from your exposed legs in the small mini skirt you were wearing, but he just couldn’t. when you were talking about the car’s issues all he could focus on was either your plump pink glossy lips, or your legs. when you had went to grab the lip gloss that you left on the passenger seat, your skirt rose up to a shockingly short length, though he quickly averted his gaze before he could see anymore.

it was inappropriate.

**

though it didn’t stop him from being balls deep in you when the price of the fix was too high, where his mind drifted off into other ways you could repay him. at first, he brushed it off thinking someone as prim and proper as you wouldn’t even think of it and he was just being dirty. however he was wrong, very wrong.

hence why you were sprawled out on the rough work bench on your back, random incoherent mumbles coming out, filling the empty garage with your lewd noises.

the small mini skirt and panties discarded on the dirty concrete floor, it was like a sign of your prim and proper self gone.

his large hands encircled nearly the whole of your waist, gripping the sides tightly as he moved harshly.

“never thought a girl as prim and proper as you would be doin’ somethin’ like this,” he grunted, his large hands roaming, one slid up, going over your breast before sliding higher to grip your throat.

you couldn’t even form proper thoughts, your mind going blank when you saw the small bulge in your stomach as he moved. he was big, too big.

“jay,” you mumbled your hand reaching out but falling back to your side when he continued to hit deeper.

he gave a low tut, almost mean, before a small sly smile formed on his rugged features.

“i know, i know” he cooed, bending to kiss your neck, one of his hand still wrapped around your throat squeezing it slightly.

“you gon’ keep this our lil secret huh?” he whispered as he bit your earlobe softly, “can’t have the word getting out i’m getting dirty with my customers,”

you didn’t even know what he said, but the sensation was too much, his was deep inside, and kissing you senselessly.

you mumbled a response, tears stained your face, mascara running.“glad to know we are on the same page sweet thing,” he whispered before both of his hands went to squeeze your stomach a little, just around where the outline of him was.

“all this for me?” he questioned a little breathless, as he stared at the mess you were making, small damp spots on the rough working bench, and a small white ring around his fat cock.

you nodded, you were too dazed to do anything else as he used you like a rag doll. he slipped two fingers into your mouth, shoving them down, whilst his other hand remained glued to your side, holding you down. you didn’t want his hand there, you wanted it somewhere else and he knew it. he was just being mean.

“jay,” you cried, though it sounded more muffled with his fingers stuffing your mouth as you choked out a response. though he knew exactly what you wanted, his fingers slipping out before going down, to the small sensitive bundle of nerves. he was rough, the sensation was too much, you kicked your legs, attempting to wiggle out but he kept you in your place, bullying your cunt.

he moved more vigorously, his harsh thrusts moving the work bench slightly, the table legs scratching against the concrete floor. “sweet thing, you ok?” he cooed, though you probably looked like anything but ok. your mascara was running down your cheeks, your lipstick and gloss was either smudged or completely gone, and saliva dripping down your chin.

“give me a smile baby, and i’ll give you want you want,” his grip on her was tightening. god you were so desperate for it, you attempted to give him a smile, the immense pleasure making it hard to do anything really. you gave him a soft smile, that lasted quite short when he kept hitting deeper.

“there we go, love that smile,” he grinned before giving you exactly what you wanted.

[musaslullaby]

Is the princess really getting married?

Charles leclerc x fem reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: The Princess of Monaco is getting married, but the fans don't know who the lucky one is.

Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.

Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.

A/N: There will be a second part.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/

Ynofficial

Description: Me every time they tell me I should go get ready.

Liked by user56, lewishaamilton, and other 948.983.

user43: Yn doesn’t want to be a princess anymore.

user32: Let’s switch places, girl. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Yn, you shouldn’t post these things.

Ynofficial: Don’t be so strict.

yourbrother: I’m just trying to keep you on the right track.

Ynofficial: How boring.

user3: The best princess I’ve ever seen.

user12: This is too funny.

user34: POV: How to pretend not to be a princess.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: POV: It’s not a POV.

user34: YNNNN!!!!

Ynofficial: Yes, that’s my name.

yourbrother: What am I going to do with you? ❤️ Like to author

user78: What do you have to do today?

Ynofficial: Another one of those shoots for something, honestly, I don’t even know.

user23: Wait, you’re doing a photoshoot and you don’t even know what for?

Ynofficial: Exactly.

Ynofficial

Description: At least I have him to keep me company.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8.483.939.

user45: How cuteeee.

user67: The luckiest little dog in the world.

user221: Yn doesn’t need a boyfriend; she has her dog.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I totally agree.

yourbrother: He’s the only one who deserves to live in the palace.

Ynofficial: I know you love my son more than me, thanks.

yourbrother: I never said that.

Ynofficial: So, you love me?

yourbrother: You trapped me. ❤️ Like to author

user21: The last photo is worthy of a queen.

user34: Maybe you meant goddess?

user56: Guys, doesn’t that dog look like Leclerc’s dog?

user7: Who’s Leclerc?

f1lover: How can you not know? He’s a god on earth.

user90: He’s an F1 driver who has a dog of the same breed named Leo.

user50: Now that I think about it, they adopted them around the same time.

user54: Coincidence?

Ynofficial

Description: Okay, okay, I have to admit I had fun this time.

Liked by user43, checoperez, and other 98,453.

yourbrother: I told you.

Ynofficial: You usually tell a lot of lies.

user45: I love the relationship between Yn and her brother.

❤️ Like to author

user6: The heir to the Monaco throne.

user7: He’s very kind, I met him.

Ynofficial: Try living with him, then we’ll see.

user21: Were the jewels real?

Ynofficial: Yes, and they’re really heavy too.

user6: I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.

Ynofficial: The clothes are super uncomfortable tooooo.

user67: But they’re beautiful.

user0: They look amazing on her.

Ynofficial: I can’t wait to take them off.

Ynofficial

Description: A date before saying goodbye.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 4.784.839.

user21: Who are you with, girl?

Ynofficial: With a human being.

user6: The luckiest human in the world. ❤�� Like to author

user5: YN OF MONACO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

user34: Thank you, Yn.

user1: Whoever it is should thank their lucky stars every day to be with someone like Yn.

❤️ Like to author

user45: So, is she engaged??

user41: Yn, don’t play these tricks on us.

user67: It’s not funny.

user3: I love the dress.

Ynofficial: I don’t, they forced me to wear it.

user56: No way we could afford it.

user32: I wish I were a princess.

Ynofficial: Wish granted, please come take my place.

user6: Guys, isn’t the Monaco GP today?

user5: Oh God, you’re right.

user43: Do you think she’s going to the GP?

user8: I didn’t know she was into F1.

user09: Neither did I.

user5: Yn is the black sheep of the family.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: You’re absolutely right.

user56: That description doesn’t sound like you.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Sorry, too poetic.

yourbrother: Mom wants to talk to you.

user6: Trouble’s coming.

Ynofficial: Time to run off to Mexico. Checo, will you host me?

checoperez: Whenever you want. ❤️ Like to author

user32: Wait, they know each other???

user9: Did I miss something?

user78: What does this dialogue even mean?

user76: YN?

Ynofficial

Description: Guess who’s not supposed to be wandering around the paddock?

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 877.473.738.

gp1: YN OF MONACO.

vroom: Wait, they allowed her to go to the GP??

race: I think at least someone from the royal family always has to be there?

user43: YN, DID YOU MEET CHARLES?

Ynofficial: 🤫🤫.

16_55: IT’S A YESSS.

user2: MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE MEETING. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Where did you go? Mom’s going to be very angry.

Ynofficial: Cover for me.

yourbrother: Wait, what?

Ynofficial: Thanks, love you.

yourbrother: No, Yn, come back here, we agreed to stay low-key.

Ynofficial: No one will see me.

yourbrother: That includes me too, right?

Ynofficial: Maybe yes, maybe no.

63_: I love this woman.

user42: Is the car comfortable?

Ynofficial: My princess ass didn’t appreciate it.

user21_: That’s why you’re my favorite princess.

Ynofficial: I don’t think you know any others.

danielricciardo: Princess Yn is a fan of mine.

Ynofficial: You’re my childhood.

danielricciardo: I’m not that old.

Ynofficial: Don’t worry, Daniel, it’s hard to accept.

landonorris: Wait, Daniel met her and I didn’t?

maxverstappen1: He’s just privileged.

Ynofficial: I’m coming to you, don’t fight.

user98: Everyone wants Yn. ❤️ Like to author

81_4: She’s anything but a princess.

f1lover: Please marry me.

Ynofficial: Sorry, I’m a bit busy.

Ynofficial

Description: As a good princess, I have to congratulate Charles Leclerc for winning his home race, Monaco. Congratulations, Predestined One.

Liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and other 42.457.473

f1lover: How sweet, Yn.

ferrarifan: After this post, I’m over the moon.

race_: The Monaco curse is broken.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Yes, but now Charles has to endure at least a month of bad luck.

charles_leclerc: Thank you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: I thank you, Your Highness, for wasting two minutes to make the post. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Consider yourself lucky.

landonorris: Will the next victory post be dedicated to me?

georgerussell63: Keep dreaming, mate. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Charles has reached the pinnacle of his career after this post.

carlossainz55: I can hear him laughing and blushing from here. ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: Princess, may I humbly request your attention? ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I always have my full attention on you, Max Emilian Verstappen.

charles_leclerc: No, today is my day, step aside. ❤️ Like to author

user56: Is Charles jealous??

user45: Max asking for Yn’s attention?

Ynofficial

Description: I can officially say I’m off-limits.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 98,457.633.

yourbrother: I’m so happy for you, little sister.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Can I be the best man?

Ynofficial: No, you might show up to the wedding already drunk.

maxverstappen1: You said yesss! ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I said yesss!

georgerussell63: Congratulations, guys.

❤️ Like to author

lewishamilton: Congrats, but honestly, I expected it.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: He has the eyes of love.

❤️ Like to author

user44: No, okay, we need to figure out who it is.

f1lover: It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever.

ynlove: Our little girl is growing up.

charleslec_: I hope it’s Charles.

race: It’s definitely a driver.

vroom: I don’t know; it could also be a prince or noble.

user32: I doubt it, knowing Yn.

ynqueen: Love is blind.

user3: Whoever it is, I’m so happy for you.

user77: I’m going to drop a bomb: I think it’s Max.

maxie_: Oh God, yes, can you imagine??

1_11: The best couple ever.

Ynofficial: I like your theories.

user66: Yn, help us, please.

cl16: Has anyone noticed Charles didn’t even comment?

55_: Strange.

Ynofficial

Description: Goodbye, Monaco.

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and other 757.648.

yourbrother: I can’t believe mom let you go.

carlossainz55: Knowing Yn, she would’ve gone anyway. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: My friends know me too well.

user43: Wait, how long have they known each other???

formula1_: More importantly, since when does Yn love F1?

f1lover: It’s a new thing, actually.

race: Yn, princess of the people.

Ynofficial: Always at your service.

landonorris: Now she’s getting a big head.

charles_leclerc: As soon as they offered you to skip your duties, you accepted right away.

Ynofficial: You shouldn’t talk to a princess like that.

charles_leclerc: And you shouldn’t talk to a prince like that.

f1love: WAIT, WHAT DID CHARLES MEAN???

charlesmylife: Guys, Yn deleted it.

charelsofmonaco: No, I don’t understand.

16cl: I arrived too late 😭😭😭.

Flove1: Finally, we have proof that this man exists.

user65: I was convinced it was a joke.

user90: Secret agents of the world, unite, we need to find out who Yn’s boyfriend is.

user67: YN, WE HAVE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.

Ynofficial: And I have zero answers.

user56: Where are you running to, girl?

Ynofficial: Away from nobility.

Ynofficial

Description: I had to try the ice cream in Italy.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 74.673.883.

yourbrother: Bring me some.

Ynofficial: No.

charles_leclerc: I’ll bring it to you.

Ynofficial: Since when are you two so chummy?

f1lover: No okay, we missed something.

race: Something important.

Formula1: Is that Leo or Yn’s dog?

f_1: The numbers don’t add up.

user78: I can’t tell them apart.

user1: They look the same.

landonorris: Good job, Yn, distract him so I can win in Monza.

carlossainz55: NO, YN, BRING CHARLES HERE NOW.

Ynofficial: Now I don’t know what to do anymore.

user56: Yn is a princess even outside of Monaco.

user09: How cute is the guy tying her shoes?

[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?��� You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))