#let’s hear it for team free will

[strawlessandbraless]

Supernatural is such a silly little show. Team Free Will boiled down to a flaming ass Michael Sword, an angel with a crack in his chassis, and an abomination with demon blood & unlimited WiFi

[burntblueberrywaffles]

My hottest take is that you are actually NOT allowed to complain about lack of fan content if you never comment and interact with creators. "Why is everyone leaving the fandom" idk, maybe bc you never bothered to let them know you liked their work???

You’re only allowed to be sad an author dropped their story if you were commenting on it. You’re only allowed to be sad artists stopped posting on the tag if you were reblogging their work. It’s not hard.

If you can’t be bothered to take five second to give creators feedback, why tf would you expect them to bother giving hours of their free time making things for you?????

[timmydraker]

Tim begins to distance himself from his family after Damian becomes Robin.

It was obvious in the way he ran off to rescue Bruce, but that was more of a physical thing at the end of the day. He was desperate and had lost any kind of safety net and support he had after Dick threatened Arkham and how badly he hurt Alfred with his instance that Bruce was alive.

Either way he was going to get Bruce back, if not because he felt like he was an aimless, nothing human being without Batman then there was that he wanted to be believed.

Then Dick handed over Robin to Damian who at that point genuinely despised Tim, though there was also a level of jealously in the young Wayne’s mind at the intelligence and analytical Tim.

It was then that Tim decided he would bring Bruce back and then do his own thing, outside of Robin and outside of Batman.

He clearly had done his job hadn’t he? Sure Bruce was dead, but Dick was acting as Batman and that Batman had a Robin, so his reasoning for being Robin was extinguished.

Tim brings Bruce back and the older man praises and thanks him for several days and then, like everything else, the attention moves away. It goes to him connecting with Damian on a vigilante level and catching up on the last several months of him being ‘dead’. It goes to Jason who, now that he’s lost his foster father has decided that maybe he could try a little harder after all.

It goes to everyone and anyone other than Tim and this time? That’s actually the plan.

Tim isn’t as good of a hacker as Barbara, but she’s basically a god at it so compared to others he might as well be master level, just not against her. This he uses to shift around peoples schedules so Alfred has no choice but to let him go to school on his own (Tim may have also invented an early morning ‘club’ that was totally legit and not at all a fabrication). He makes it so when Dick is over or Jason takes the rare opportunity to visit he had to work at WE or DI, something important he can’t neglect.

He never has to walk Ace or Titus because he’s busy with his team mates.

Team mates who think he’s busy helping out Batman.

Tim still does work as a hero, but it’s entirely through his businesses after a while. A few times he has no choice but to go out in a boring black suit with a full face mask and hoodie. It’s got nothing on it, no symbols or gadgets. Nothing to connect him to anyone.

He starts with the homeless, dishing out vaccines like candy without even doing a campaign to showcase it.

Then he changes Bruce’s rather naive approach to orphanages and makes it so every single child who is put through is given a small amount of funding. He makes it so kids have more chance to stay with siblings, makes sure everyone who even so much as enters the ground of a orphanage have a real background check and sure the adoption rate drops, but so does the missing kids and DV cases.

Tim steals over fifty million from people like Luther and Penguin and all kinds of corrupt rich assholes for the majority of the funding and not even a cent of it is traced back to Wayne or Drake businesses. Whiles he’s digging into Lex be manages to get enough evidence to put a sizeable dent in his reputation, even if Lex manages to smooch a fair bit of it back.

He’s manages to take out a large sized trafficking ring and helps get the victims into a real recovery home that he hand picks out security for.

Later, as in a few days afterward, he discovers a dog meat farm and everyone medical veterinary student suddenly finds themself free of student loans and debt and with multiple work opportunities available and volunteer work being down right pleased for.

Tim knows he’s being noticed but given that he basically lives in his office in the heart of the city, he isn’t there to hear his old teammates and ‘family’ talk about the mysterious Dread.

Dread who was named that after a report came out about a theory of an unknown hacker or ‘cyber vigilante’ who was stealing money and information from rich folk and giving it to the poor, giving all of the 1% dread that he would hit them next.

The exact quote was ‘Those with money deeper than their pockets dread the hackers next moves. And they should feel that dread as a warning for this Robin Hood like legend seems to be getting braver.’

Dick was sure the hacker would have been called Robin if he hadn’t chosen that name already, to which Barbara responded with grumbles and growl because she couldn’t find anything other than holes and traps left by the hacker. It was like they knew her every move before she even made it!

Tim, obvious to his growing reputation until it fully took off, hadn’t even considered that his actions would be framed a threat by Batman. He would say it was because he didn’t think Bruce would ever really target him like that, but in actuality it’s because he knew Bruce was one of the few good rich folk. Surely he would be on the side of a secret vigilante hacker trying to use horrible people to do good? He embraced Dread quickly and was happy he make the rich squirm and brought a sense of hope to people, it was just like Robin but instead of them being safe and given light they were given a peace of mind in a mix of revenge and justice.

What Tim doesn’t know is that Bruce is still too far into his whole image of black and white, good and evil, that he tends to forget there’s grey areas.

At least Jason is on the side of Dread, even if he still thinks the myth of a story is just that, a myth.

It’s when Tim blows up a bank when everyone has gone home for the night just so people will find the underground money ring that and he visits the manner to get a few things that he hears them talking about it.

By that point it’s been around two years since he dropped Robin and as usual Dick always greets him with a look of a desperate puppy, “Tim! Hi, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months, how have you been?”

Tim smiles at Dick even if he hasn’t gotten over his anger at his oldest brother and moves to sit at the breakfast table with everyone (Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian).

“Good. Busy, we’ve had a lot of donations lately.”

Jason snorts, “No shit. Isn’t Wayne Enterprise one of the few ones not hit by Dread?”

Bruce grumbles and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. They’ve managed to get into our system and completely changed the Jason Project.”

Jason grins and laughs happily, “you mean improved! Crime Ally is doing great now. Not the best, but still a fuck of a lot better.”

Smiling at the man who once beat him to an inch of his life, Tim takes a sip of his tea and casually says, “You’re welcome.”

The whole table goes quiet as Tim continues to casually sip his tea.

The silence carries for a total minute before Bruce puts down his cup and leans forward with a slight growl in his voice, “Explain.”

“Explain what?”

Bruce stands over his son even from halfway down the table and very obviously tries to calm himself with a deep breath, “What do you mean ‘you’re welcome’?”

Tim makes an ‘oh’ expression before cocking his head to the side in confusion, “I was the one who fixed the Jason Project? Wait, did you guys not realise I’m Dread?”

Damian shouts out a ‘what?!’ That makes Titus jump and Tim laughs under his breath, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Running the business! Not stealing from people and black mailing politicians!”

It’s Tim’s turn to growl now and he stands up himself with a glare at Bruce that is as close as any of them have gotten to the famed Bat-Glare, “Are you fucking kidding me? Like are you a Tully kidding me with that horse shit?”

Bruce looks stunned and Alfred doesn’t even tell him not to swear.

Tim slams his chair into the table.

“What the fuck else would I be doing, Bruce? I’m not Robin, that was taken from me, so what else was I gonna do? I finished my job, not only keeping you from killing anyone but bringing you back, so I had do pick something else. I’m not stealing from the rich, I’m stealing from selfish cunts who ruin peoples lives for no reason and giving it to people like Jason. So, don’t you fucking yell at me and don’t try to make me feel bad for this, not when I’ve done more in two years than you ever have and- don’t you fucking speak Dick, not when you were the one who took my place here away from me! Now, I have a trafficking ring I need to expose so good. Fucking. Day.”

Jason is the only one who follows him.

[greengoblinswifey]

Reunited— Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— You’re reunited with your boyfriend luigi and he shows you just how much he missed you.

warnings— fingering, slight voyeurism, oral(f!receiving) praise kink, bit of crying but luigi comforts you, L bombs, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— originally posted on my ao3, where there’s another luigi fic <3 FREE MY MF MAN!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Luigi Mangione was not just another face in the crowd, he was a polarizing figure. He gained national attention after allegedly carrying out a calculated act of vengeance against a corrupt CEO you couldn’t care less about. He claimed his actions were a response to widespread exploitation and inequality in the healthcare system and you were 100% on board.

After leaving behind a manifesto that exposed systemic greed and corruption, he disappeared, sparking an instant nationwide search. Supporters hailed him as a modern day vigilante, while detractors condemned him as a criminal. You were by his side through it all, not only as his girlfriend but as his confidant and staunchest ally.

You had met Luigi three years ago at a charity gala. While his presence was understated, his charisma was undeniable. You had a passion for uncovering the truth and you were drawn to his fiery intellect and his conviction to make a difference. When he confided in you about his disillusionment with the corporate world and his dream to spark real change, you stood by him, even as the risks escalated.

When the authorities finally caught him, it shattered your world. Luigi was supposed to be halfway across the country by then, safe and untouchable. But fate had other plans.

After days of navigating legal hurdles, your boyfriend was granted bail thanks to the efforts of the legal team you assembled and the donations pouring in from his legion of supporters. The day you picked him up from jail was a whirlwind of emotions. Crowds of people gathered outside the facility, holding signs and chanting his name. The media swarmed like vultures, cameras flashing as Luigi emerged, his posture unyielding despite the chaos.

The car was parked a block away, avoiding the thick of the chaos. As he stepped out, the crowd screamed. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Read the manifesto,” he said, his tone commanding yet calm. “The answers you seek are in there.”

The crowd erupted, some cheering, others debating. But Luigi didn’t linger. He moved toward you, his gaze softening the moment he saw you waiting.

The lawyer drove the two of you to a safe house on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the faint bruising along his jawline.

“Baby, did they hurt you?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled, brushing your concern aside. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m just angry they didn’t let me speak.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “They’ll hear you soon enough. You’ve already started something they can’t ignore.”

His eyes softened as he turned to you. “I missed you,” he murmured, his hand finding your thigh. “Every damn second I was in that shithole.”

You smiled, leaning closer. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He kissed you deeply, his hand tightening its grip. “You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The car ride felt impossibly long as the reality of the situation weighed down on you. You kept glancing at Luigi, his sharp profile shown by the fleeting city lights. Despite the calm mask he wore, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

You reached over, your fingers brushing his arm. “I was so scared for you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Tears began to spill before you could stop them.

Luigi turned to you immediately, his expression softening. “Don’t cry, amore. I’m here now,” he murmured, pulling you closer. He pressed a series of tender kisses to your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“It’s just so unfair,” you choked out. “The media, the critics—they don’t know you like I do. You’re not some monster. You’re brave, kind, and caring. You only wanted to help people.”

He cupped your face, his gaze locking with yours. “Let them say what they want. I don’t need their approval. I have you, and that’s all I care about.”

You leaned into him, his words wrapping around your heart like a balm. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “No one can keep me from you.”

As the car drove deeper into the night, Luigi’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm against your skin. He glanced down at your dress, his lips curving into a sly smile.

“You look so sexy in this,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “Did you wear it for me?”

“Yes,” you admitted, heat rushing to your face.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh. “Good. Because it’s driving me crazy.”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You shivered as he placed a trail of slow kisses along your skin. “You smell amazing,” he murmured against you.

His hand slid higher, and when his fingers brushed your bare pussy, he froze for a moment before letting out a low, appreciative moan. “You’re not wearing anything underneath?” he asked.

You shook your head, your breath hitching.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his voice laced with both amusement and desire. His fingers trailed to your clit, the heat of his touch making you bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

“Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and the need for discretion.

“Shh, amore,” he said, his lips still pressed to your neck. “Be good for me. Stay quiet.”

His fingers moved with purpose, his slow circles on your clit sending your nerves into a frenzy. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I missed this, missed you.”

The car hit a bump, jolting you both, and you bit back a gasp as he slipped a finger into you immediately, your hand gripping his arm tightly.

Up front, the lawyer cleared his throat, oblivious. “Almost there,” he said.

Luigi smirked, his fingers still working their magic. “Good. But not soon enough,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he praised you softly.

His touch became more deliberate, his fingers moving in a way that left you struggling to suppress your reactions. His gaze flicked up to yours, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re doing so well for me, amore,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I can feel how much you missed me from how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched as he praised you, his movements precise and slow, building that feeling inside. He kissed the side of your neck again, murmuring against your skin, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting to suppress your moans as his fingers curled inside you with his thumb rubbing your clit.

“I can’t—” you breathed, biting your lip to quiet yourself as your orgasm built.

“Cum for me, beautiful,” he whispered, speeding up his movements.

You bit onto his shoulder, using your other hand to pull him onto you as your orgasm ripped through you like a knife. You really hoped the seats weren’t messy.

The car slowed as it neared the safe house, and Luigi reluctantly withdrew his hand, his eyes dark with unspoken promises. “Just wait til’ we’re inside,” he said softly, his fingers brushing your chin as he gave you a quick, knowing smile.

His lawyer parked the car in front of the nondescript safe house, stepping out to hold the door for both of you. Luigi exited first, straightening his suit jacket before reaching for your hand. “Thank you,” he said curtly to the lawyer, who nodded and drove off into the night.

The moment you were inside, Luigi shut the door, locking it and turned to you, his expression filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled you close. His hands framed your face as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing you back against the nearest wall.

“Lui—,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your knees weak.

“You’re mine,” he said firmly, his voice filled with both affection and possessiveness.

His hands roamed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer. “I’m going to remind you how much I missed you,” he said, his voice a mix of promise and passion.

Luigi carried you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping you in the warmth of safety as he navigated the unfamiliar safe house. He gently kicked open the door to what you assumed was the bedroom, setting you down on the soft mattress. His touch was soft, fingers lingering on your shoulders as he slid your straps off, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” he murmured, his voice filled with longing.

Your response was barely a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every second.”

He tilted your chin upward, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that deepened with every passing moment. As he undid the zipper of your dress, his movements were deliberate yet gentle. The fabric pooled at your feet, and his breath hitched slightly as his gaze took your naked body in.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone awestruck. His fingers threaded through your braids, tugging softly as he kissed you again, his lips tracing a path down your jawline and neck.

Your hands instinctively found his curls, tangling in them as he lowered himself to his knees before you. “Baby,” you whispered, the emotion in your voice evident.

“Shh,” he replied softly, his lips brushing your skin. “I need to take care of you first. Tell me how much you missed me.”

“I missed you so much,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I love you, Luigi.”

“I love you more than anything. Let me show you just how much,” he replied.

His hands caressed your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your skin. His touch was reverent, almost as if he were worshiping every inch of you, his deep brown eyes gazing up with adoration.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet full of conviction. “Every part of you.”

His lips pressed against your pelvis, leaving a trail of warmth and affection that sent a shiver through your body. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, his presence grounding you even as your heartbeat quickened.

“Luigi,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion and pleasure. Your hand instinctively reached for his curls, tangling in them as he smiled against your pussy.

“Let me take care of you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me—so patient, so strong.”

Your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the sensation of his devotion. His praises washed over you like a balm, soothing the ache of the days you’d spent apart.

His tongue moved with precision, licking your clit as he used his fingers to spread your juices across your hole. A gasp left your lips as he moved down, slipping his tongue inside your pussy then continuing his movements on your clit.

“You’re everything to me,” he continued, his hands gently gripping your hips as he sucked your clit. “I don’t deserve how good you’ve been throughout this, but I’ll spend my life proving how much I love you.”

His voice alone sent a rush of warmth through you, every syllable filled with sincerity. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as your emotions surged.

Luigi’s lips curved into a small smile. “You’re too good to me, but I’ll never take it for granted.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Every touch, every flick of his tongue was a promise that he would always cherish you, protect you.

He didn’t rush a single movement, cherishing the connection between you. You cried out as you gripped his curls tighter, your orgasm threatening to spill over.

“God baby, I can feel you clamping around my tongue, it’s okay, you can cum for me,” he urged.

With his name on your lips like a prayer, you trembled as you squirted on his tongue. He slurped your juices, guiding you through your high and savoring your taste.

When he finally finished and stood up, his arms pulled you close, cradling you as if shielding you from the world. “You’re my everything,” he whispered. “I’ll never let anything happen to us. I promise you that.”

Your hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I believe you,” you said softly.

He smiled, brushing a strand of your braids from your face. “Good.”

Luigi’s chuckled as you gently ran your fingers along his chest, stripping him off his clothes then pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes glimmered with warmth, his hands lightly brushing against your waist.

“You’ve done so much for me,” you murmured, leaning closer, your voice low but full of intent. “Now it’s my turn to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

His gaze softened, his hands sliding to your wrists as if to stop you. “You don’t have to do anything, amore,” he said, his voice tender. “Just having you here, holding you, it’s enough.”

You pouted but decided not to be a brat this once. “Whatever you say baby, anything you want.”

Luigi sat back, his strong arms pulling you onto him as if he couldn’t bear even a second without your closeness. He settled you against his chest, your bodies perfectly aligned, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. “So obedient,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple before moving to your forehead for a lingering kiss.

He tilted your chin up gently, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “I need to hear you say it.”

You nodded, your breath catching. “I’ve been craving this—craving you—this whole time,” you whispered, your words trembling with sincerity.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, one that spoke of everything unspoken, the longing, the love, the relief of being together again. His hands caressed your ass, grounding you as he shifted beneath you.

He paused, his movements deliberate, as he guided his cock against your pussy. “Slowly, baby,” he murmured, his hands firm but gentle on your hips. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

A gasp escaped your lips as he sank deep inside you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate rhythm he set. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with restrained need. “You’re perfect—so tight, so ready for me.”

Your nails dug lightly into his chest as the intensity built, his words spurring you on. “You can take it, baby,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. “You’re so incredible.”

Luigi's praises, whispered against your skin, grounded you in the moment. “You feel like heaven, amore,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed you again, swallowing your soft cries.

Luigi’s grip on your hips tightened, as he guided you into a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust was purposeful, his body rising to meet yours. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. “You’re so perfect. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his curls as he set a steady pace. Every thrust was measured, filling you and making your breath hitch. “You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, his voice breaking with restrained emotion. “I can feel how much you’ve missed me.”

Your head tilted back, exposing your throat as his lips pressed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that make you shiver. “Luigi,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Shh, amore,” he soothed, his hands running up and down your spine as he adjusted the angle slightly, his cock moving inside your wet pussy deliberate and controlled. “Let me take care of you. Just feel me.”

His thrusts deepened, his hips rolling in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours, filled with unspoken affection and need. “So perfect for me.”

“Lu— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.

“I know baby, do it for me, cum on my cock,” he muttered.

Your body convulsed on top of him, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued thrusting inside you, guiding you through the intensity of the moment.

Without missing a beat, he flipped you so that he was on top of you, his cock still inside you. His soft lips came down onto your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples as soft whimpers left you. You tried to grip onto him but he pinned your arms above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

He thrusted into you deeply, your body jolting upwards as you cried out.

“Oh, fuck, that feels amazing,” you moaned, feeling him continuously brush that sweet spot inside you.

He went faster at your praises, his hips snapping to meet yours. “God, you’re so wet for me, beautiful.”

His large hands gripped your waist, slamming you onto his thick cock. His hand then moved to your lower abdomen, pressing against the outline of his cock moving inside you.

“Feel me baby? Feel how deep I am inside you?” he murmured, pressing on your abdomen and slamming into you.

“S-so deep,” you whimpered.

He reached down to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him as his pace never faltered.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, I know you are too. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna breed this pretty fucking pussy,” he said.

You wrapped your legs around him, grinding against him. “That’s my good girl, trap me in baby, cum with me while I fuck a baby into you.”

His words sent you over the edge and you moaned his name as you felt his hot load spurt deep inside you. “Take it, take it, take it, beautiful,” he gasped, fucking you as ropes of his cum spurted inside you.

You babbled incoherent words, shivering under him as the intensity of the moment was almost too much.

“Now, when you get pregnant, you’ll always have a piece of me,” he cooed. He stayed buried inside you, relishing in the warmth and wetness of your pussy.

Luigi gently pulled out of you, his hands steady as he helped you shift. His concern for you was immediate, his touch soft as he carefully helped you to your feet. “Let’s take care of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with care. He guided you to the bath, his eyes never leaving you, as if making sure you were okay, every part of you.

He settled behind you in the large, warm tub, the water soothing as he wrapped his arms around you, his chest against your back. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body surround you, as he gently massaged the soap across your skin. His hands were steady and comforting, washing away the physical remnants of the day, but it was more than that—he was taking care of you in every way, his touch full of tenderness and love.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck softly. “I promise, I won’t let them take me away again. We’ll fight this, together.”

You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with emotion as you leaned back against him. His hands gently cupped your face, turning you to look at him. “I really hope so,” you whispered, the fear from earlier still lingering, but his presence grounding you. “I’ll always be by your side, Luigi. No matter what happens.”

He smiled, a soft, knowing smile that reached his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of reassurance. “And I’ll never let you go.”

As the warm water surrounded you both, the world outside seemed so far away. All that mattered was the two of you, in that moment, connected in a way that nothing could tear apart.

[7s3ven]

FILE LOADING. TF 141 x hacker! Reader, pt 1

( full master list) (intro to this series)

IN WHICH… you needed a way to lessen your prison sentence and TF 141 needed an efficient hacker… as well as someone to spoil.

Notes: hacker! Reader, reader has a criminal background, reader has piercings, tattoos + tooth gems

A/N: first cod series finally lol… please like this post guys, I finished it right after I slipped while practising a taekwondo kick and body slammed into the tiled floor 😭.

—

The air inside your prison cell was muggy and overall unpleasant, causing beads of sweat to form on your forehead as you fanned your face.

The pathetic excuse for a window was not helping, letting only a small amount of oxygen enter the tiny room.

In all honesty, you weren’t treated as badly as other prisoners. A coworker of yours had pulled some strings the moment you were arrested, which meant you got better food and some perks.

But as always, life in jail still sucked.

You were too busy staring at the blank wall in front of you to notice the metal door keeping you locked up was now creaking open.

“Get up.” The warden harshly nudged your shoulder, barely giving you a moment to compose yourself. Your hands were yanked behind your back, the cool metal handcuffs digging painfully into your soft skin.

Your jaw clenched as you were dragged down the dimly lit hallway. You knew better than to ask questions as they would not be answered. All you could do was walk in the direction the warden shoved you in.

The breeze from the well-ventilated interrogation room was the first thing to hit you as you entered. You arched an eyebrow at the woman sitting at the table, her hands gracefully clasped together.

“And you are?” You didn’t recognise her as you slumped into the seat across from her, purposely sending the warden a biting glare.

“I’m Kate Laswell, a CIA operative.” She didn’t waste time before she spoke, leaning forward to catch your attention.

Your lip peeled back into a sneer, “The worst kind of people.”

She ignored your jab. “I’ve come here to give you an offer. You see, SAS is in need of a hacker and I’m told you’re the best fit for the job.” You watch as she opens a slim folder, spreading out the images for your careful gaze to study. They’re printouts of your exploits, files nobody was supposed to obtain. You had deleted your digital footprint after hacking databases, you were sure of it.

“You’re good. Too good to waste in a cell." You hear her softly sigh.

“I did what I did. The justice system isn’t so flattered by my ability to retrieve their sensitive information. Plus, I did murder someone… a few people, actually. So in all honesty, this isn’t an unfair punishment.” You leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“We are well aware of your long record.” Laswell sends you a pointed look. You merely grin, your canine teeth glinting in the light.

“Did you see my arson report?” Your lips spread into a grin, “Because that’s the best one. Set an ex-boyfriend’s car on fire and it just lit up. It was great. You should read it sometime.”

Laswell cleared her throat, reminding you of the situation at hand. “As I was saying, I can lift your jail sentence with a click of my fingers but only if you agree to work for me.”

“Thought I was working for SAS.” You interrupted.

“You’ll work for an elite team called Task Force 141… but you’ll answer to me. I give you the orders.”

“And the catch of this job?”

Laswell’s lips curve into a faint smile. “This is not a job offer, Miss L/N, it is a uniquely presented opportunity. You will get no pay for your services. The reward it reaps, however, is greater.”

You paused for a second. What could possibly be better than money?

“Freedom.” As if reading your mind, Laswell spoke again. “If you do this, you’ll be free before next year. This is possibly your only shot at freedom, do not throw it away. If you stay locked up here, you’ll only rot while the world keeps spinning.”

Now she had your attention. “You must be desperate if you wanna hire me.” A chuckle slipped past your lips but it was mainly to ease the awkward tension that had settled. “What would the job include?” You tilted your head, subtly shifting forward to hint your interest.

“You’ll be working alongside Task Force 141, giving them intel on possible threats and making their jobs easier by gaining access to classified information. I hear you don’t work well with other people but really, what choice do you have?”

Her words prodded at you and the teasing smile on her face aggravated you but she was right. You had no other choice.

The room was silent as you weighed out your choices. The walls seemed to close in on you, a stark difference to the freedom you were promised mere moments ago.

“So I risk my life for this so-called elite team… and in return I get some vague promises of freedom? Smells like bullshit. You lot will probably stab me in the back.” You scoffed.

“You’ve already painted a bright red target on your back. It’s only a matter of time before people realise you’re worth more dead than alive. With us, you’ll have protection. And a purpose.”

Laswell stood up, pushing her chair back with deliberate calmness. The legs scraped against the concrete floor as she did so. “Make no mistake, L/N, people like you don’t simply disappear. Someone will come for you… someone who wants your head on a stick.” Her words hung heavily in the air.

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes and like a feral predator, she ate it up.

“Okay.” You slowly murmured. She had convinced her with her carefully concealed threats. “I’ll do it.”

Laswell smirks. "Good. Pack your things. Your new team will be picking you up in an hour.”

—

The loud roar of the helicopter blades filled the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, shielding your eyes against the bright sun. You rubbed your aching wrists, clicking your tongue at the bruises the tight handcuffs had left.

A few soldiers are waiting for you into the chopper, their silhouettes barely visible through the dark tinted windows.

“Couldn’t just send a car?” You grumbled as you climbed into the helicopter. Laswell followed close behind, unbothered and seemingly used to such a commotion.

“Always for the theatrics, John.” She jokes with the man sitting across from her, eyes crinkling as she grins.

You glance at the man’s name tag, reading Captain John Price. He’s handsome… for a man his age. In a ruggish and rough sort of way. A cloud of smoke slips past his lips as he calmly puffs on a cigar, not at all caring how the chopper unsteadily tilts to the side.

“This the hacker? That pretty ‘lil lass over there?” A voice, thick with a Scottish accent, cuts through the silence. Your eyes dart to stare at the burly man with a Mohawk as he looks you up and down. “Thought the hacker was a bloke. Ain’t complainin’ though.”

You stiffen at the comment, running your tongue over your top row of teeth. It unintentionally gives him a view of your shiny tooth gems. “Thought you lot were an elite crew. Y’all don’t fact check?” You lean back into the cushioned seat. It’s surprisingly comfortable, much better than the stone-hard mattress back in your cell.

The Scot laughs, unbothered. “She’s got bite. I like ‘er. Name’s John McTavish but most call me Jonny. You can call me Soap if ya want.”

You sarcastically laugh. “Soap? What kind of muppet name is that? You had a reputation for eating soap as a kid?”

Soap’s eyes light up, not what you were expecting with your insult. “Ay! The cap’n said the same thing! Called me a muppet too!”

“You still are.” Someone chimes in from the front. You didn’t even realize there were two more people squeezed in to the seats in front of the controls.

The one in the passenger seat turns around, smiling. With his soft brown eyes and gentle features, you can’t help but find him pretty.

“Y/N L/N, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Kyle Garrick.” His voice has a slight British accent to it. “This is Ghost next to me.” He jabs a thumb at the man wearing a skull mask who’s doing a poor job at steering the helicopter.

“Ghost?” You question, “What sort of name is that?”

“Simon Riley.” Ghost grunts out. His British accent is somewhat aggressive, evident in every syllable he barks out.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. For some reason, he annoys you. It’s more like the way he’s looking at you through the eye-level mirror.

The chopper shakes again. You watch as Kyle grasps his seat, his grip so tight it almost cracks the delicate leather. “Sorry.” Simon gruffly replies.

You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. “What’s up with him?” You nod your head in Kyle’s direction.

“Fell out the bloody helicopter when Ghost was last flying.” Kyle replies. You almost laugh. It’s not something that should be amusing but your lips quirk into a small grin.

“So… does this whole arrangement cover my food and accommodation?” You question, suddenly aware of how hungry you are. Laswell slips out a small folder, handing it to you.

“Your accomodation will be one of our safe houses twenty minutes away from base. We considered having you live on the base itself but socialising isn’t part of your job. You’ll be living with the Task Force to ensure you don’t run. And all your costs will be covered. You will be given an allowance for your own expenses such as impulsive purchases.”

“Thought you said I got no money.”

“Once you have completed what is necessary, you will no longer have access to the allowance.” Laswell clarifies.

“And I walk free.”

Laswell nods, “Then you are free to go. If needed, CIA will pay to transfer you to another country so you can start anew. Most do not get second chances, L/N, so be careful.”

You lick your cracked lips, aimlessly playing with the hem of your oversized shirt. Maybe you could go to Europe; it had been a little dream of yours as a kid.

“Should go to Scotland, lass.” Jonny pipes up above the loud helicopter blades.

“London’s better.” Simon retorts, “Can actually understand what they’re saying.”

“What about Korea?” Kyle butts in.

“You aren’t even Korean.” Jonny argues back, lightly scoffing.

“Yeah, but I wanna go. Is that a crime, Soap?”

Their pointless bickering was comforting in a way. You had spent the last few years of your life locked away, isolated most of the time and alone. It was nice listening to people talk again.

Simon landed the helicopter with surprising grace, being the first to unbuckle his seatbelt and jump out. Kyle was next. Laswell unlocked the sliding door, stepping aside to allow you to slip past first.

You merely stared at her before muttering a tense thanks.

“Watch your step.” Kyle warned you as he held out a hand to steady you.

“It’s literally three feet. I can manage.” You snap back, effortlessly stepping out of the chopper. Jonny lightly chuckled while Kyle slowly withdrew.

“Feisty.” Kyle muttered.

You stared up at the safe house, tilting your head. “It’s… cute.” You hummed. It was a cottage, not the first thing you expected as a safe house.

“Were the pink roses your idea, Riley?” You joked, pointing at the pretty flowers.

He grunts, a sound you’ve suddenly become familiar with. “I prefer Ghost.” He corrects you.

You shrug. “Used to call inmates by their last name. Helped me ignore them when they tried hitting on me in the early years of prison.” You stepped forward onto the stone cobble path, admiring it.

“A small cottage… bet this is a military dream, huh?” You kicked a pebble.

“It is, actually.” Jonny pipes up, “It’s every man’s dream to retire in a cute little house with a pretty lass.”

You lightly scoffed, “I ain’t here to play work wife, McTavish. Can’t even cook.”

“Thank goodness we have Gaz then.” Jonny retorts, “Bloke should be a chef if this career doesn’t work out.”

You take a moment to study the house and its surroundings while the others file through the door. There’s a small white Pickett fence wrapped around the land, bright green blades of grass wrapping around the neatly painted wood.

The cottage is clearly old but well renovated. Rows of vines adorn the side, a surprisingly aesthetic sight. There’s a garden filled with sweetly smelling flowers and the same pink roses sitting at your feet are also perched on top of the porch.

The windows are the favourite aspect of yours. They decorate the stone walls, a sharp gothic detail to them.

It’s almost too pretty for a criminal like you.

“You comin’ in?” It’s Kyle who notices your absence, peeking his head past the doorway. For a moment, he thought you had made a run for it but he was relieved to find you standing among the garden.

You clear your throat, pulling at the bottom of your shirt. “Yeah.” You step onto the rickety porch, the wood creaking under your weight.

The interior of the house is so different from your tiny cell. Walking past the door almost feels like walking into an entirely new life.

Jonny is scavenging through the fridge, pulling out a tall bottle of beer. “Want some?” He offers it to you.

“I can’t drink, warden’s orders.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“It’s just a beer, can’t hurt ya. ‘Sides, you ain’t in jail no more.” Jonny insists, shaking the bottle. It’s tempting but on instinct, you glance at Laswell.

She’s sitting beside Price, talking to him in a hushed tone and going over a file, presumably one containing details about you.

“I ain’t stopping you from drinking, kid.” Laswell says, feeling your stare on her face.

Hesitantly, you snatch the bottle from Jonny, popping the lid open with practised precision. You haven’t tasted beer, or any other alcohol for that matter, in a long time. You’ve never liked beer… but the first burning sip feels heavenly.

“You got any vodka?” You ask, glancing into the top cupboards.

“Do we look Russian? Nah, can barely drink that shit straight.” Jonny’s face scrunches up at the thought.

“Bourbon then.” Your words catch Simon’s attention.

Jonny grins as he reaches up, grasping a fancy-looking bottle. “Only other person here who likes bourbon is the LT. Guess he isn’t alone anymore.” He pours you a glass, handing it to you in exchange for your bottle of beer.

“Don’t understand how you lot can stand beer. Too bitter for my liking.” You mutter, pacing around the room.

You hear Simon quietly hum in agreement. “Finally someone smart.”

COD TAGLIST (comment to be added/removed): @jenepleurepasbaby @rm25711 @talia-the-gemini @margaaaa30 @mixplara @alex—awesome—22

@lunamoonbby @little-b33 @ghostswife-8 @tea-drinking-nerd @certainlygay @lucienofthelakes @supaturtl3 @pr3ttypupp4 @royalz658 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @ashy-akuma @1bucky-barnes-wife1 @chloepluto1306 @voguiing @eyeless-kun @joshwashingtonmybeloved @fuzzyducky3 @childishname @angel-bugz @kee-0-kee @undercover-smutlover @10honeybee01 @kat247 @munson24 @sweetlittleblackrose @babybimbo777 @wfinniegenx @galactict3a @hyperfixatedcatlover @creepumiku @yoontoons @moraxnomora @1ckyfairy @lunerbitch @tizylish

[yuuchama]

Sometime during the VDC training camp, when everyone on team Night Raven is sleeping over at Ramshackle Dorm:

Ramshackle Dorm has no shortage of spare rooms, but their condition is another story. You've managed to get enough of them decently clean. They're not as nice as your room, which has had far more time invested in it and is well lived in, but your groupmates should be able to spend a few days at the dorm without issue and are more than free to tidy up rooms as they please.

Yet on one of the first nights, you hear the door of your room creak open. It's dark and you can't see the intruder, though you know it's not one of the ghosts. The approaching footsteps aren't as heavy as Grim's, even after he's cleared out the entire fridge in one sitting. You're also pretty confident Grim is fast asleep beside you.

"Hello?" You groggily lift your head and call out to the intruder. If it's anything malicious, you hope the ensuing scuffle will cause enough noise to wake everyone else up.

A weight pushes the edge of your mattress down and there's a gentle touch at your shoulder. "Prefect, do you mind if I spend the rest of the night here?"

"Jamil?"

You almost don't recognize him in the dark with his hair down. You feel around for a bedside light. Grim groans in his sleep when it clicks on and turns over, shielding his eyes with tiny arms.

Jamil looks exhausted. "Please, I'd really appreciate if you could let me sleep here tonight."

"Yeah, sure. Of course." Maybe it's the sleep addling your brain or your trust in Jamil. You see no reason to turn down his request and didn't question why he was coming to you instead of Kalim. You nudge Grim over to make room for one more on the bed.

The vice housewarden does his best to fit in the cramped sleeping conditions, assuring "I'll pay you back for this. Thank you."

He's turned towards the wall, back touching your side so that he doesn't fall. You wait to make sure he's fully secure in bed before turning off the light. In the calm that follows, you notice he's almost imperceptibly shaking. Sure, the dorm is cold, but not that cold. Especially with three in one bed.

"Jamil, are you okay?" The longer you spend awake, the more concerning this whole situation feels.

"I'm fine. Goodnight, Prefect." Jamil already has his eyes shut and seems adamant about not discussing things further.

"Okay... Goodnight."

You lay down and silence settles over the room once more. It's really warm between your two friends. Sleep is quick to catch up to you, you find yourself nodding off within minutes of your head touching the pillow.

Before you fully drift off, Jamil turns to face you. His hair drapes over the side of the bed and he places a hand on your pillow, lightly grazing your cheek.

"Thanks again," he whispers. "I feel a lot better with you here. Your room doesn't have bugs on the wall."

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, who cared only about dominating the court suddenly cared only about you. Him and his team were practicing for a game next week in the school gym when he noticed you sitting among the crowd of spectators. Whenever him and his team practice, the students in school will always come watch in their free time. He recognized some familiar faces, but you, he doesn't recognize you. He had never seen you here before, and something about you dragged his attention towards you.

Satoru, who never misses a shot when he has his hand on the ball, suddenly misses? Dead silence. His team stared at him with confusion and disbelief that the Satoru Gojo missed a shot. His best friend and teammate, Suguru, came up to him with concern in his eyes and asked– "Are you alright, Satoru?"

Satoru runs his hand through his hair and huffed out a fine to his best friend. What the fuck just happened to him? Must have been a fluke he said to himself as his eyes wandered towards the crowd who was gossiping about his failed shot. His eyes then wandered towards you who was staring right at him. His eyes widen when you caught him staring at you before quickly turning away. His heart racing in his chest in an uncontrollable pace. He noticed Suguru and his teammates still staring at him with concern in their eyes.

"C'mon, let's continue practice," he sighs. "I just got distracted. It won't happen again."

The team was reluctant to continue practice because no matter how distracted Gojo was, he had never missed a shot. He could practically play a game with his eyes closed and not miss, but all of a sudden, he missed? As practice continued, Satoru made no other mistakes. He didn't miss again, but every time he scores, his eyes always end up wandering towards you.

Fuck. What the fuck is happening to him? Why can't he stop his eyes from going towards you whenever he scores? Why is he so focused on the way your eyes light up in awe as he makes every shot? The way you wet your soft looking lips with your tongue as you stood at the edge of your seat. You were a sinful sight to behold.

When practice ended, Satoru quickly left the court to go to the locker room. As he pushed past his teammates, he noticed their confused expression. Their confusion was understandable because, normally, Satoru would be the last one to their locker room. Satoru loves attention, so he would always give out fan services when practice or a game ends. However, this time, Satoru was quickly pushing open the gym door to escape, and his eyes wander towards you one last time before completely exiting the gym. He doesn't like what he's feeling right now. It was suffocating, but it's ok, right? Today was just a one-time thing. Oh, how wrong he was.

Since that day, he noticed that you always were there during their practice. He knows you're not from his school because of your uniform, so who exactly were you? Who allowed you in? And why is it that he couldn't get enough of you? Why did you suddenly show up in his life out of nowhere?

Satoru sat down on the bench as the other continued the practice game, wiping his sweat with his towel as he secretly watched you. You who had his under some kind of spell. You who he hasn't spoken one word to since the day he saw you. He wanted you to say his name. Hear the syllables of his name come out of your soft looking lips. Gojo wasn't dumb. He just likes pretending to be, so it doesn't help that he knew exactly what was going on with him. He knew what he was feeling, and it was downright stupid. Fuck love at first sight. It shouldn't exist. He shouldn't want to kiss you. He doesn't even know your name! He groans as he run his hand through his hair again. He curse at himself before he felt something cold touch his cheeks.

"What caught your eyes, Captain?"

Satoru took the water bottle from Shoko's hand and took a big sip. "What are you doing here, Shoko? Don't you have that medical test or whatever to study for?"

Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment– "That was yesterday Gojo. So are you just going to ignore my question? Clearly, something is up for you to miss your shot a few days ago."

"No idea what you're talking about," Satoru replied as he fixed his hair. "Didn't miss nothing."

"Right. It's not like the whole school was gossiping about you missing for the first time."

"These people and their big mouths..." He mumbles. Funny coming from him since he himself would have done the same if the situation was flipped.

Shoko looked toward the place Gojo was eyeing and then saw you. She blinked once and then looked back at Gojo before huffing out a small laugh. Someone is going to be in for a surprise.

"That's his sister, y'know?"

"Not funny, Shoko," Satoru said before looking at Shoko's expression. She was serious. You and your brother look nothing alike. He sighs before mumbling a curse under his breath.

"Oh fuck indeed," Shoko laughs again as she turned towards the gym door. "Going to need some sweets?"

"Yeah, I'll pay you back later."

"Free of charge today. My compensation for this free entertainment. It's going to be an interesting few days." Satoru was now left to his own thoughts. He couldn't help but sigh at his predicament.

Satoru never got the chance to speak to you. Whenever he tries to go towards you, he stops and turns away. He couldn't help but be nervous when it comes to you. It's not his fault that he thinks he'll faint from hearing your voice. He'll talk to you one day when the opportunity arises. It seems fate had granted him his wish. Satoru had met you outside one morning right before his team game. You had accidentally bumped into him while rushing.

"Ouch!" You rubbed your nose from the sudden collision before looking up at him with your innocent and beautiful eyes. Oh fuck. Your voice was music to his ears. He just gone to heaven and what made it even worse was how you looked. Why the fuck do you look so pretty this early in the morning? He himself could barely get out of bed for today's game. His hair is messy and all over the place. His shirt is not all the way buttoned, and his tie is hanging loosely over his neck. If he didn't have a game today, he would be at school getting scold. He just looked like a mess compared to you. Sure, he is a hot mess right now, but this was not the impression he wanted to give when he talked to you. He listened to your endless apologies before interrupting with a question.

"You coming to the game?"

"Huh?" You stopped your apologies at his sudden question before his question clicked. You didn't know he noticed you during his practices. Your eyes instantly light up and grab his hand. "Yes, I am! I'm very excited since it's my first time witnessing a game! I've been to your practice for a while because of my brother's invitation. Oh, my brother is–"

As you continued your rambling, Satoru's eyes were fixated on the fact that you were holding his hands. Your small and soft hand holding his. He stopped your rambling by taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. An intimate act. You looked up at him in confusion, and before you could say anything, he was tugging you along.

"Making sure you don't get lost on the way. Let's walk together to the stadium." An excuse to keep your hand in his even though you were practically strangers. He made sure you couldn't let go.

When the two of you finally arrived at the stadium, he had to let you go. He didn't want to let go, but he had to go towards the locker room so he could change into his game uniform.

"Name is Satoru Gojo. Call me Satoru. Let's hang out after the game today." He then brought your hand towards his lips and kissed it. His eyes moved up towards your eyes, holding your gaze as he whispered– "Keep your eyes on me." He then quickly left towards the locker room, his ears burning from his sudden boldness. While he can dominate the court, you have dominated his heart.

When he entered the locker room, his team was already getting ready for the big games. He quickly went to his locker beside his best friend and started to undress his school uniform. Suguru was already ready for the game, so he was sitting on the bench in the locker room, drinking some water.

"I'm in love with your sister," Satoru blurted out, causing Suguru to immediately spit out the water he was drinking. Confusion and disbelief were written all over his face.

"What?"

Part 2

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

[y3sterdaysproblem]

let me love you - matthew sturniolo

summary: your boyfriend sucks, and matt may or may not be in love with you.

warnings: pure smut, cheating, oral f!receiving, fingering, hickeys, unprotected sex.

a/n: thanks for enjoying my ghostface au! this is kind of a slow burn it’s like 1.5k words before they get freaky. yall wanted best friend matt so here you go 😇 ALSO I started writing this prior to everyone talking about no nut november sooooo …. lmk if u want smut from me still or maybe some fluff or angst cuz I am a sluuuttt for angst

wc: 6.2k

-

“No!” You cry out, throwing your body backwards on the white couch you sat on, dramatically slamming the PS5 controller down next to you in defeat. “You guys teamed up on me and cheated! No fair.”

Laughter filled your ears around you, your friends and boyfriend finding your reaction hilarious.

You were at your best friend Matt’s house, along with his two brothers, your boyfriend, and a couple of other friends from high school. Nick had wanted to invite your guys’ old friend group over as it had been a while since you had all seen each other together, and so far you guys were having a blast. You’d ordered a pizza, watched a cringey movie that came out while you guys were in high school, and now were playing Mario Kart, which was never really your strong suit.

“Nobody ganged up on you, kid. You just suck,” Chris laughed from his spot next to you, bringing his phone up to take a picture of the big pout on your face.

“I hate this game,” you tell him, standing up from your spot between him and your boyfriend, getting up to go refill your red solo cup with soda. As you walk to the kitchen, you hear footsteps behind you, and you’ve been friends with everyone here long enough to know who’s creeping up behind you, so you turn around, pout still plastered on your face.

Matt laughs as soon as he makes eye contact with you, unable to hold it in. “Cmon, don’t be a sore loser,” he starts.

Your jaw drops at his comment in disbelief before you pick it up and giggle, dropping the facade. “I’m not being a sore loser,” you assure him with another laugh. “I’m thirsty and was also kind of wondering if there was any pizza left.”

Matt smiles at your change of attitude, happy you’re not actually upset with the outcome of the game, even though he would never mind trying to cheer you up. “I knew you’d want more, actually,” he moves around the table to open the fridge door. “Seemed like everyone was going crazy on the pizza so I grabbed a couple slices and put them aside for you.”

Your heart swells a bit as you walk around to join Matt by the fridge, smiling wide as he pulled out a tupperware container with a couple pieces of your favorite pizza. “Aww,” you drawl. “You know me so well, Matt. Thank you!” You take the container from him and set it on the counter before turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He hugs you back with his arms around your waist for a moment before pulling away, patting your sides as he does so. “Of course, just heat it up real quick. I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” he smiles at you, turning and walking away.

You smile to yourself as you pop the tupperware into the microwave, listening to the hum of the machine while you twiddle your fingers and wait for it to heat up. As it beeps, you feel a presence sneak up behind you, hands wrapping around your waist.

You spin around with a small grin, looking up at your boyfriend looming over you. “Hi,” you say sweetly.

“Hey,” he responds, kissing your forehead. “More pizza?” His eyebrows furrow as he looks down at you.

“Yeah,” you respond, breaking free from his grasp to grab your pizza out of the microwave. “Matt put a few slices aside for me because I always eat more later.” You take a bite out of one of the slices, humming in satisfaction, looking up at your boyfriend with a small smile.

He looks down at you with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, watching you eat. “Didn’t you have like four pieces earlier?” He questions, raising his eyebrows slightly.

You pause chewing for a moment, furrowing your eyebrows as you look at him. “Huh?” You say, slightly garbled by the food in your mouth. You take a moment and chew what’s in your mouth, swallowing thickly before setting down your bowl, placing both hands on your hips. “Are you questioning how much I’m eating or am I hearing things?”

He crosses his arms as the smile drops off of his face. “That’s not what I mean,” he starts. “I’m just… saying you had a few pieces earlier and you just heated up like four more pieces, that’s all.”

You guys have been friends for almost ten years now, however your relationship was relatively fresh, only about seven months in, and in those ten years that you’ve known each other, you’ve never been known to eat salads or small portions. You’ve always had a faster metabolism, and a more active life, so you weren’t particularly worried about indulging in a few extra pieces of pizza during a night with some of your closest friends.

You tilt your head and narrow your eyes, arms coming up to cross over your chest. “Is this something you’d be comfortable saying in front of all of our friends?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, turning to walk away. “Don’t make this something it’s not, babe. Just a question,” he says, heading back towards the couch where the rest of your friends are.

You’re still standing there with your arms crossed, watching him sit down next to Chris, picking up a controller while he laughs about something somebody said, completely switching up his attitude like he wasn’t just trying to patrol what you were eating and how much of it.

At that moment, Matt comes back, drying his hands on his grey sweatpants, making them a bit darker on the outsides of his thighs. “How’s the pizza?” He asks with a smile, before he notices your demeanor and the pizza resting on the counter instead of in your hands. “Everything okay?”

You turn your attention to your friend, looking at him with a confused expression while you try to decipher the interaction that just happened between you and your boyfriend. “Yeah,” you say, but it isn’t a confident answer, and you sound almost confused. “Come on, let’s go sit back down,” you tell him, grabbing your bowl of reheated pizza before starting to walk back to the couch, flopping down on it aggressively, making sure everyone knew you were back.

Matt follows happily, sitting down next to you. You turn and smile at him before slinging one of your legs over his, his hand habitually landing on your knee as you did so. You two had always been the closest in the friend group, but it was always platonic, as much as some of the people in the friend group wanted you guys to end up together.

Nick came and sat on your other side, smiling at the bowl in your hand, pointing at it happily. “Secret stash?” He asked.

You nod enthusiastically, swallowing the food that was in your mouth. “Matt saved me some because he knows how much I love to eat again a few hours later.” Your tone was slightly bratty, eyes flicking over to your boyfriend who stared at you and Matt. He was clearly mad at how close the two of you were sitting, and the hand placed gently on your knee.

Nick nodded. “Oh yeah, I think we all know how much you love leftovers. I wish I could eat as much as you and still look that good,” he teased. You laughed, knowing Nick had no idea the interaction that transpired in the kitchen a few minutes ago, and his timing was just coincidentally perfect.

The night played on as usual, games continuing to play on the tv, loud chatter filling the room as you all caught up on each others’ lives, talking about how adult life takes so much time to live and leaves so little for socializing.

Soon, people started leaving, and eventually it was just the triplets, your boyfriend and yourself, all sitting on the couch as the conversation started to die out, everyone starting to become tired.

Your boyfriend stands from the couch, stretching his arms above his head, shirt riding up slightly. “I think I’m gonna head out, I’m really tired,” he says. “You want a ride home, babe?” He looks down at you where you now laid on your side, head resting on a pillow by the arm of the couch.

You look up and shoot him a quick smile, shaking your head. “I’m gonna pass out here for the night, thanks though.” You tell him. It was typical for you to stay over at the triplets’ house when you got the chance. You’ve known them the longest and grown the closest with them out of the friend group.

“Oh, you can sleep in my room!” Chris smiles at you, reaching over to grab your ankle, shaking it lightly. “I’m gonna sleep in Nick’s room.”

You sit up and laugh at Chris, nodding your head lightly. “Okay, thanks, Chris. You’re the best.”

You and Chris had an almost sibling like relationship from the start, teasing and goofing off being an essential part of your bond. They were also a little bit younger, so he was like the little brother you never had.

Your boyfriend nods and walks over to you, leaning down to kiss you quickly before straightening back out, heading towards the door. “Bye guys, thanks for hosting,” he says towards the boys before leaving, door shutting behind him.

You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, looking around at the three boys around you, all comfortably sitting on the couch on their phones. You smile to yourself a bit before pushing yourself up off of the couch, causing them to look up at you.

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” you say. “Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed, Chris.”

Chris smiles up at you and nods. “Goodnight,” he says.

“Night,” you respond, starting your walk through the kitchen to get to the stairs.

Matt gets up and trails behind you, and you don’t even question it, only turning around to look at him when you’ve made it to Chris’ room. “Here to tuck me in?” You tease.

Matt laughs and shrugs, walking to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at you as you raid the drawers to find a large t-shirt to change into for the night. “I mean I can tuck you in if you want, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay after earlier. I’m not really sure what happened but you weren’t right after that.”

You pull out an old, worn out red sox shirt and walk over to the bed, sitting down in the middle of it. You let out a sigh and stare down at your hands. “I’m okay, it’s just… you know how I was eating those last few pieces of pizza?”

Matt scoots closer to you and turns to face you, nodding his head as he did so. “Did he say something to you?” He asked curiously, head tilting a bit.

You take a deep breath and nod, letting the air out slowly and quietly while you think of what to say. “He just made a comment about how much I was eating and it kind of rubbed me the wrong way. Said I already ate a good amount earlier so I shouldn’t eat any more.”

Matt pulled his head back with a disgusted look on his face. “That’s weird. It’s no different from how you usually eat.” He said.

You just shrugged your shoulders and leaned back against the headboard. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I was so confused when he said it, it was just so out of left field. It’s not like I’ve gained weight since we’ve been together or anything either. I don’t know, Matt, he’s been weird lately. I’m not even sure if we should be together, but if we break up it’s going to make things weird between everybody and… I just don’t know.” You run your hands over your face and groan loudly, smacking your hands back down on your legs when you’re done.

Matt looks at you for a moment, trying to figure out what to say that might make things better, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself trying to dig deeper. “How is he being weird?” He inquires, sitting still in his spot in the middle of the bed.

You shake your head and look up at Matt, pursing your lips as you think. “He just… he’s not very physical with me, he barely takes me on dates and when he does, I have to ask him to take me out, his texts are so dry it hurts, and… not to be too tmi but… I’m just not very,” you blush and look down at your lap before finishing your sentence. “Satisfied.” Your voice fades off into almost a whisper.

Matt’s eyebrows raise, shocked that you confided in him about your sex life. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but normally he didn’t know the guys you were complaining about and you could joke about it more freely. “Like… you’re not finishing?” He asks, not sure how far you’d be willing to take this conversation.

You cover your face, embarrassed, but ultimately you make eye contact through your fingers and shake your head, silently answering the question. “I do things for him every time, but I feel like he’s just using me to get off and my pleasure isn’t important. He’s never even eaten me out, just like fingered me before sex but you can tell he’s just doing it because he thinks he should, not because he actually wants to, and I’ve been with guys who enjoy that kind of stuff so I know it’s not a universal thought that getting your girlfriend off is a chore. But he doesn’t even get me off! He just like… plays around down there and then fucks me for like two minutes!”

Matt laughs at your tone, nodding his head in agreement. “Two minutes is… crazy,” he cackles.

You laugh back at him, the mood lifted. “You’re telling me. I feel like I can literally count the seconds without losing track in the time it takes him to finish.”

Matt’s head falls back in laughter, but when he comes back to look at you, he raises an eyebrow at you. “He’s seriously never eaten you out?” He asks, shocked at the earlier statement.

“No,” you shake your head, lips falling in a tight line. “Crazy, right?”

He nods, taking a breath in like he was going to speak, but stopping himself before words could come out. He thought for a moment, not wanting to say anything to make the situation awkward. “I feel like I always eat a girl out and get her off at least once before we actually, y’know. Fuck.”

It’s been way too long, you think to yourself. Way too long since you’ve actually been pleasured by a man that left you satisfied and even craving more. With your boyfriend now it just felt like you should be having sex, but you never craved it.

“I wish that was the case but… it’s mostly just me blowing him and not getting anything in return, or we just have sex without any sort of foreplay,” you tell him. Your eyes bore into his and you swallow thickly. It’s not like you’ve never thought about what sex with Matt would be like. You guys have talked about your sexual encounters before, but mostly as a joke, in ways that didn’t make you guys want each other, at least that’s what you thought. But now, talking about how awful your sex life was and how attentive Matt was in bed, it made you feel even more deprived.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt had thought about sex with you more than he’d like to admit, but would never bring it up due to fear of rejection. He’s had a crush on you for a while now, but the thoughts of getting you naked and in his bed and consumed him recently. He was so turned on by even the smallest thing; the clothes you wore, your hair in a bun paired with your glasses, the smell of your perfume, everything made him want you even more. He felt like this conversation might be the only time he could make a move and actually have it make sense, but he didn’t know how to bring it up.

“You deserve better than that,” he starts nervously, right hand playing with the ring on his left pinky. “Have you talked to him about it?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah right. Doesn’t do anything. He says he doesn’t do that. Says it’s boring and he hates the taste. Like suck it up.”

Matt keeps eye contact with you, taking a deep breath before the words that will change your relationship no matter the outcome slip past his lips.

“I love it,” he says. “I love eating girls out, having them squirm underneath me, pull my hair… it might be my favorite part of sex.”

Your throat goes dry as Matt talks, the eye contact getting almost too intense for you. The air in the room has shifted, and it’s hard to ignore. You swallow thickly, looking down to his lips before flitting back up to his eyes.

“Listen, I.. I don’t want to make this awkward or make you uncomfortable and,” he scoots closer on the bed, reaching a hand up to trail over your thigh. “I know we’ve been friends for a really long time and this would change things forever, but I can’t even tell you how bad I want to make you feel good.”

You suck in a breath, goosebumps arising on your leg where his hand rested, thumb gently swiping back and forth. “Matt…” you look at him with raised eyebrows.

“I know, I know you’re with him,” he interrupts. “But I could make you feel so good. Please.”

Begging was your weakness, the desperate look in his eyes having you more hot and bothered than it should’ve. You were in a relationship for fuck’s sake, this was wrong on more levels than one.

Matt’s hand reaches out to push a strand of hair behind your ear before he rests his palm on your cheek, getting up on his knees to tower over you, looking down at you from his elevated position. He leans down, left hand resting behind you on the headboard, locking you both into place. His face is right in front of yours now, both of your lips merely inches away.

“Please,” he breaths out quietly.

You stare up into his eyes for a second.

Two…

Three…

“Fuck it,” you whisper, reaching up to grab the back of his head and pull him down the last few inches, slamming your lips together.

His tongue slides past your lips almost immediately, meeting yours fervently, his hand that rested on your cheek sliding down to rest on your waist, gripping gently like he was afraid you’d slip from his fingers.

Your hand slides up to thread through his hair, keeping pressure on the back of his head to keep him close. You moaned against his lips, both of you kissing more aggressively than you typically would due to the tension that’s been growing between the two of you for years, finally snapping.

“I need you so bad,” he mutters against your lips, sliding down to kiss your neck, tongue sliding against your skin as he left kisses down your collarbone. “Take your clothes off, please, I need to see you.”

You sit up from the headboard and oblige, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sweat shorts and bra. He follows suit and takes his shirt off, throwing it to the ground before sliding down the bed so he can grab your ankles, yanking you down the bed roughly so you were laid flat on the mattress instead of sitting up.

You let a small squeal leave your lips, followed by a giggle. This is exactly what you needed, to be manhandled by a man that wanted nothing more but to please you, and you couldn’t be more excited for the night ahead of you.

Matt crawls back up the bed, looking at you like you’re his prey and he’s about to devour you. “You look so good,” he says quietly, voice deeper than usual. He’s hovering above you again just staring down at your face and admiring, like he can’t believe he’s finally getting what he’s waited so long for.

Your hands reach up to touch his shoulders, dragging your fingers up and down his arms that are braced on either side of you, holding his body up. You admire him for a few minutes yourself, just staring up at him as he looks at you, the silence not awkward at all, instead it’s comforting, and he feels like home.

Finally, he breaks the eye contact as he leans down to kiss you again and your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “Matt,” you mumble, his lips pressed firmly against yours. He hums in response, placing a final small kiss on your lips as he pulls away to hear what you have to say.

You’re nervous as you speak, but push the feelings aside as to come off more confident than you actually are.

“I need you,” you whisper, staring straight up into his bright blue eyes. “Please.”

Matt’s still for a moment before he leans his weight on his left hand, sliding his right one underneath your back that arches for him to have easier access, skillfully undoing the clasp on your bra. As soon as it’s undone, you use your own hands to peel the bra off of your arms, leaving you completely topless in front of him, nipples hardening at the cold rush of air on your chest.

He starts his descent down the bed, letting his lips trail down your body, over your collarbone, through the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, finally reaching your hipbones where he started to suck a mark into as he tucked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear, your naked body fully on display for Matt for the first time ever, but in the back of your mind, you hope it isn’t the last.

He pulls his lips away from the purple mark he sucked into your skin, admiring his work. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to mark you up, to claim you.” Matt looks up at your face to see you already staring down at him. “Need to taste you so bad.”

You nod your head lightly, giving him permission to finally do what he wanted, and what you needed so badly.

His head dips down to kiss your hip again, lips moving over your thighs, his hands pushing them farther apart to give him access to what he needed the most. His eyes stare down at your core, something that would usually make you insecure, but right now only made you feel even hornier, the thought of him soaking in the way that you looked down there turning you on more than anything so far. “Pretty?” You ask him bashfully.

Matt licks his lips in response, taking in a breath to calm himself. “Fucking perfect.” He drops his head and drags his tongue from your hole up to your clit, grabbing the wetness that dripped out of you and spreading it up, wrapping his lips around the nub that needed attention more than it ever has in your life.

You gasp and drop your head down to the pillow, hands instantly tangling in the sheets to ground yourself somehow. “Fuck, Matt,” you cry, arching your back off of the bed.

He uses his hands to keep your legs spread apart as he devours your pussy, the wet sounds coming from his mouth meeting your heat filling the room. You’re grinding up into his mouth and he lets you, wanting to allow you to do whatever felt the best to you, but you halt your motions when he pulls away and lets go of your left thigh, dragging his fingers up your leg until they meet your entrance, slipping two fingers into you, your pussy enthusiastically accepting them.

He brings his mouth to the inside of your thigh as he starts to finger you slowly, thumb rubbing against your clit as he does so, sucking another hickey into your soft skin. You’re a moaning mess as he plays with you, finally feeling something other than disappointment in bed for the first time in a long time.

After he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left on your skin, he moves his thumb away from your clit and trails back up to wrap his lips around it, sucking softly and letting his tongue run over the nub, fingers still working inside of you. The combination of both had you reeling, damn near seeing stars. Not only has it been forever since you’ve been eaten out, but it’s been even longer since you’ve been eaten out well.

“Matthew,” you breathe, exhaling loudly. You were trying to stay quieter, but you were quickly losing your inhibitions. The way he used his tongue on you, sucking on your clit alongside the fingers working their way inside you was making you dizzy, your stomach coiling in a familiar way. “Matt, please don’t stop,” you beg, reaching up to slide your fingers through his hair.

He listens, curling his fingers inside of you as his tongue traced shapes on your clit, the taste of you alone making him so hard it hurt.

You cried out and arched your back against the bed, fingers gripping the overgrown hair that adorned Matt’s head, moans growing louder than you were able to control. “Fuck!” You whined, thighs shaking as they tried to close around Matt, but he pulled his fingers out of you and used both hands to press your knees apart, keeping you exposed to him as he ate you through your orgasm, making you cry out even more, not used to the overstimulation.

He finally pulls away, kissing his way back up your torso until he’s hovering above your face, smiling down at you. “You okay?” He asks sweetly, using his left hand that isn’t covered in your arousal to brush your sweaty hair out of your face.

You pant as you look up at him, desperately trying to catch your breath. All you can do at the moment is nod, eyebrows furrowing together as you stare at him, almost innocently, and the look in your eyes makes his dick twitch in his pants.

He smirks down at you and reaches back down with his right hand, dragging his fingers over your clit again, making your legs twitch and try to close, a small whimper leaving your lips. “Sensitive,” you whine, but you still can’t help the moan that leaves your lips when he dips his fingers back inside you, pumping them slowly.

Your eyes flutter closed as your head rests in the pillow, back arching as you push your hips down to meet his fingers.

The mix of the pleasure and the immorality of the situation is ripping you apart, like an angel and a devil on your shoulder, but the devil was winning tonight and you weren’t even worried about the consequences.

“So good,” you whisper, finally able to respond. “But this is so wrong, Matt.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I know,” he says quietly against your skin. “Do you want me to stop?” He slides his fingers out of you and starts making circles on your clit, slowly but surely bringing you back towards the edge of an orgasm, but the tone of his voice makes you completely confident that he would stop if you told him to, that he’d cover you up and leave you here to sleep, never to bring up this incident again. Your best friend was way too sweet to you for your own good; unfortunately for him, and especially for your boyfriend, you weren’t quite as good of a person.

“No point in stopping now, not when you got me wanting you so bad,” you tell him, a smirk falling onto your lips. “I need you to fuck me.”

Matt’s breath hitches in his throat at your filthy words, unable to even process the fact that he’s in bed with you right now, let alone the way you’re speaking. He would’ve been completely happy just getting you off and making you feel good, so getting to fuck you really just felt like a bonus for him. “Anything for my favorite girl.”

Matt stands up off the bed and slips his sweats and boxers off, stepping out of them before taking a step back towards the bed, blushing at the expression on your face.

“Holy shit, Matt, I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I knew you were packing straight heat,” you laugh, gawking at the size of his dick. Your boyfriend was nothing in comparison. You don’t think you’d ever be able to go back after this.

“Shut up,” Matt chuckles, climbing back onto the bed and fitting himself between your spread legs, sitting up on his knees and pulling your hips up to meet his, ass resting on the tops of his thighs. “You sure you want this?” He clarifies, making sure a final time. You guys have already crossed so many lines, but this seemed like the final one, the point of no return. But you’re happy where you’re at, and you let him know by nodding at him, confirming that you’re ready to say fuck it to the boundaries set by the standard rules of friendship.

Matt shakes his head and leans over your body, face hovering above yours. “I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, eyes boring into your own.

You smile and reach your hand up to cup his cheek, tilting your chin up slightly. “I’m ready,” you tell him sweetly. “Fuck me, please.”

He’s nervous, and you could tell, but he pushes it aside as he sits back up and grabs the base of his dick, using his hand to line up the tip with your entrance, slowly sliding himself in until he’s buried to the hilt, a small moan leaving both of your mouths. “Shit, Matt,” you whine, reaching out to grab any part of him, something to ground you in this situation. He sees your efforts and leans over you once more, the angle of him just sitting inside you brushing up against all the right places.

Your hand reaches out and grabs his bicep, eyes fluttering open to look at his face above you, his expression slightly distant as he focused on the reality that has been the subject of every wet dream for at least the last five years. “You okay?” You ask him, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I should be asking you that,” he states. “I’m fine, just can’t believe I’m finally getting to do this. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You smile and wiggle your hips, pushing down into him. “Show me how long you’ve been waiting for this.”

Matt doesn’t hesitate when he hears those words, and he pulls his hips back just to snap back into you roughly, making you moan and throw your head back, your neck exposed for Matt to do whatever he wanted.

He keeps up a rough pace on you, grunts leaving his mouth every so often. “You feel so good,” he says lowly, leaning down to bury his head in your neck as he fucks into you relentlessly. His lips trail over your skin, until you feel his mouth open, a light suction on your neck sending you reeling.

You know he’s marking you up in places that are going to be visible now, and there’s no turning back from this, there’s no way you’ll be able to hide it without being obvious, but you just can’t find it in you to care.

“Fuck, Matt, you’re fucking me so good, don’t stop,” you cry out, hands reaching around his back, nails digging into his skin.

He listens, like the good boy he is, keeping up his pace on you. He sits up, though, your ass still planted on his thighs as he rocks his hips into you, his arms wrapping around your legs and holding you in place. “I’m not gonna last long like this, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes. He’s far too turned on to last as long as he normally does, too worked up and so enthusiastic about finally getting to fuck you after all these years.

“That’s okay, I’m so close,” you tell him, reaching down to start rubbing circles on your clit to push you farther towards the edge, wanting to finish with Matt, but he pushes your hand away, replacing it with his own, rubbing a quick back and forth motion on your clit in time with his thrusts. “I’ll take care of you,” he tells you, looking into your eyes. “I got you.”

Those words alone had you arching your back off the bed, gripping the sheets next to you as you came for the second time that night, legs shaking as you cried out, muttering out his name mixed in with obscenities. “Matt,” you whimper, breathing heavily as you came down.

He was still thrusting into you, slower and gentler now, but enough to still have you riled up despite the orgasm that just shook your body. “You’re doing so well for me,” he praised, sliding his slick covered hand over your thigh, rubbing the skin lovingly. “I’m so close, baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere you want,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’m all yours.”

The words send him over the edge, his thrusts getting sloppy as he finished inside of you, shooting his load deep into your pussy. “Fuck,” he moans, hips coming to a halt fully inside of you as he collects his breath.

You guys are both silent for a moment before you make eye contact and start giggling, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you did so, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Oh my god,” he speaks first, looking down as he pulls out of you, his seed spilling out slowly. He acts without thinking and reaches down, using his fingers to scoop it up and push it back inside of you, making you gasp.

“Matt,” you warn, and he snaps his head back up to look at you. “Sorry,” he says, a blush starting to cover his cheeks. “Just don’t wanna waste any.”

He pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets, grimacing slightly. “Definitely going to have to wash these tomorrow, but that’s a tomorrow issue.”

You smile and reach towards him, grabbing his arm to pull him back down to you, sliding your hand up his arm and towards his cheek before pulling him into a soft kiss. He kisses you back happily, his clean hand resting on your waist.

As you both kiss, he moves to lay next to you and slides his hand down your hip until it rests on your leg, pulling it over him so you guys are cuddling face to face.

Matt pulls away from the kiss and smiles over at you. “I guess this would be a bad time to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for a really long time?” He raises his eyebrows as he speaks, pressing his lips in a thin, awkward smile when he’s done.

You laugh and shake your head, brushing a long strand of hair out of his eyes. “I think it’s perfect timing.”

He smiles wide and leans in to kiss you once more, holding your body close to his own.

-

You guys must’ve ended up under the blankets at some point during the night, and thank god for that, because it couldn’t have been later than 9am when you hear the sound of the bedroom door opening and the song Pony by Ginuwine blaring through a speaker, ripping you out of a deep sleep.

Your eyes tear open and you stare at where the noise is coming from, feeling the hand wrapped around your waist tightening before you both sit up and stare at the door, seeing Chris in the doorway jokingly dancing and grinding as he held the speaker up in his hand, looking at both of you on the bed.

You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter, the sight of him breaking into the room like this making you crack up. “Chris!” You yell between giggles, making sure you’re holding up the blanket to cover your chest.

Nick comes up and stands behind Chris, shaking his head. “I told him not to,” he states, clearly unamused with his brother’s antics.

Chris giggles and turns the music down, staring at the two of you in bed, one of you laughing and one of you glaring back at him. “Hey, I’m happy you guys finally fucked, just really wish it wasn’t in my bed.”

Matt narrows his eyes and reaches underneath him, grabbing the pillow he was previously laying on and flinging it at his younger sibling. “Chris, get the fuck out!”

-

a/n: …..

u likeee??? I definitely like this one a little less than the last one but it was still fun to write 🤭 please leave feedback and send requests on what to do next

taglist

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run

Pt 3

At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Price’s voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.

You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since he’s started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.

The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.

You don’t realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. You’re looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasn’t served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.

Price is staring down at his hands, and you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You don’t think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. “Don’t do that.” You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.

He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. “You’re not…?” He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. You’re not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry you all had to…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. You’re shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but he’s quick to blink them away.

“You’re not horrified by us?” He asks, and you can tell he’s trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.

“You have done… horrible things. Inhumane things.” You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. “But I couldn’t imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things you’ve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing… monsters you’ve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.” His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard he’s fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. “We never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just… Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-“ His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. “Why are you being so nice?” He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.

Grounding.

“You did as I asked. You told me the truth.” You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. “And you’re happy with that truth?”

“I’m happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.” You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you don’t feel the need to look away this time. “Anyone else would have gone running for the hills.” He whispers, and you can’t help but smile.

“Not many places to run to, and if I’m telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.” You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. “You can’t mean-“

“I do though. There are people in this world that don’t deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didn’t single-handedly ruin someone’s entire foundation.” Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.

“You have your own monster, don’t you pretty?” He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.

“I think that’s a story for another night.” You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.

“You’re going to let us-“

“You are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.” You interrupt him, but there’s a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.

“Price..” You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.

“You are a good person.” He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.

“You’re still a good person too.”

Those words linger in the air.

You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who you’ve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell he’s desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.

“He doesn’t like that you’re upset.” You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. “Even though I terribly upset his mama earlier?” He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.

“Grimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one who’s gonna hold a grudge.” An answering ‘boof’ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.

Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Price’s lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. “You’re gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.”

“What in the bloody fuck did I miss?” A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Price’s cheek.

You gently pull Price’s hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. “I’ll go grab some fresh blankets.” You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.

“Wait, does that mean-“ You hear Ghost start, and you’re shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.

You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. “Price you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.”

It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.

“You scared me, you need to stop-“

“Thank you.” He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.

“I- Well you’re welcome, I couldn’t just-“

“Yes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.” He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.

“No. From… from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.” You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. “Easy.” You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesn’t let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.

“I’ll just finish-“

“Whoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.” Ghost states, quite confidently, and you can’t stop the shocked giggle that slips past. “Absolute fuckin idiot.”

“You can’t win me over with flattery you know.” You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that. Think it’ll get me pretty damn far.” He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.

“Wait.” You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.

Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. “Ah don’t worry about that. I deserved it.”

“C’mon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.” You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.

“Yes ma’am.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Big Pharma

Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader

Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?

Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.

Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k

The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.

Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.

As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.

This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.

You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.

You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.

Well, the only side effect.

Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”

“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”

“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”

You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.

“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…

“Good. A team player. We value that here.”

You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.

“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.

He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.

You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.

Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.

See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.

Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.

The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.

Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 

You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.

Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.

Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?

“Doc, no,” he breaths.

“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.

Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”

‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.

“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.

He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.

It’s your job to break him and break him right now.

“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”

There’s a flat smack on the door.

“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.

That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”

In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.

Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.

You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.

“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.

He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 

His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.

You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.

Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.

“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”

That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.

His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.

Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.

You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.

He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.

Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.

“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.

Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.

Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.

Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.

You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.

A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”

You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.

“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 

He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.

He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.

A box of tissues is set by your side.

“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 

You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”

Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.

“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.

“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”

Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.

There’s another impatient bang at the door.

“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”

It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.

You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.

Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’d you do, blow a vein?”

You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.

“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.

His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.

Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.

It seems you’re both addicted now.

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]

[ssahotchnerr]

okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭

Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭

(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)

keeping score

🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k

early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.

as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.

but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.

"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.

you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."

he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.

however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"

your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."

"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."

his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.

you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.

but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.

"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."

it hadn't rained last night.

the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.

as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.

"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"

you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.

"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.

"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.

your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.

just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.

while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.

and a minute or two later, aaron joined.

as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.

"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."

"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."

with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.

"how are you feeling?"

"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"

oh.

"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."

aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.

so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.

"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.

aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."

aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.

and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.

"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."

"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.

"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."

you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.

once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.

"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.

aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."

"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."

a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"

"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."

he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"

"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."

aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."

"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."

"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."

[itadorey]

𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 (?) 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄— gojo satoru

pairing: racer!gojo x race engineer!reader genre: formula 1 au, fluff summary: he's insufferable (and wants to ask you out) and you're just trying to help him win the championship notes: formula 1 has ruined my life. probably lots of inconsistencies but i sped wrote this. this turned out a lot longer than i initially planned. gn reader but mention of wearing a dress. word count: ~3.2k

It's hot.

Your nose scrunches up in mild disgust as you feel a bead of sweat trickle down your neck, quickly making it's way towards the collar of your shirt before it's wiped away with a soft towel.

"Thanks," you mutter, looking up to meet a pair of bright blue eyes accompanied by a swoon-worthy smile. You huff lightly at the wink Gojo sends your way, turning away slightly to let your eyes roam over the rest of the paddock. Your lips turn up into a smile when you catch sight of Geto Suguru walking past your garage, and you return his greeting with a wave of your own before you hear Gojo grumble from his place beside you.

"Fraternizing with the enemy," he says, annoyance coating his words. He crosses his arms, unintentionally flexing and drawing your gaze towards his torso. His black fireproofs fit him snugly, and you find your mouth going dry as you try your best not to ogle him. You wonder if the temperature's gotten hotter. "That's not very nice of you."

"He's not the enemy," you protest, turning away to grab Gojo's helmet before thrusting it into his chest. "He's your best friend."

"Off track he is," Gojo agrees, holding onto the helmet. He pulls you in slightly, raising a brow when you don't immediately let it go. "But on track, he's my biggest competition. So you should be focused on me, not him. He's only a handful of points behind me."

"I'd hardly call one hundred points a handful," you mutter, turning to the side to grab a clipboard. "I think you're guaranteed to win the championship this year. Plus, Megumi's been doing great as well. Kid is in third place and it's only his second year! I think we've got the constructor's in the bag as well."

"All I need is a couple of bad races and next thing you know, Geto Suguru is the 2024 World Champion."

"Bad races," you snort, guiding Gojo towards his car and shoving his balaclava into his free hand. "Gojo Satoru does not have bad races. I don't know how you do it. I feel like you never drop below second place."

"It's all thanks to those genius strategies of yours," Gojo quips, watching in amusement as you shake your head in mild disbelief. There's a soft glint in his eye that you never seem to notice, and he finds himself wondering if maybe he should be a little more obvious about his feelings. (Everyone else on the grid and even the majority of the fans know he has the hots for you, so really, you're just the densest person to exist).

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say, waving him off as you start to make your way towards the rest of your team. "Pull your suit up and go get settled in."

Gojo watches you for a couple of minutes, leaning against a cement column with his arms crossed. He doesn't know how, but watching you organize the team and go over your notes has become his pre-race ritual. He's so lost in thought that he fails to notice the cameras pointed at him, broadcasting the lovestruck look on his face for everyone watching the race live to see.

"Ready to go?"

Gojo snaps out of his daze when his team principal, Yaga Masamichi, comes up to him. There's a faint smirk on his lips as he motions towards you, his sunglasses hiding the teasing glint that Gojo just knows is present. "Or is there something you need to urgently discuss with your beloved race engineer?"

Gojo rolls his eyes but chooses to remain silent before pulling his balaclava over his head. He's abnormally quiet as he settles into his seat, and when he catches sight of you giving him a thumbs up from afar, he decides to ask you out right after he beats Geto and wins first place.

"Radio check."

"I can hear you loud and clear," you respond, your voice carrying the same lilt that Gojo's does. He laughs quietly, settling into the second position after the formation lap. A glance to his left leaves him scowling when he sees Geto flip him off, and he sighs deeply before realizing that his radio is still on. "Something wrong?"

"Just Suguru being an asshole," he responds, his irritation fading away when you attempt to choke down your laughter.

"Radio is still on," you manage to spit out. "Mind your language."

"You can reprimand me later," Gojo says immediately, well aware that his radio has probably drawn the broadcaster's attention. "Over dinner, maybe? Just you and me in the candlelight at that little Italian place you like."

"Win the race and then maybe I'll consider it," you hum, amusement tinging your words as you shake your head. Gojo can't help but pout when he realizes that you're dismissing his words as a joke, and he merely huffs before turning his radio off and telling himself that he has to beat Geto to the first turn if he wants any chance of winning this race.

It isn't long until lights out, and Gojo finds himself reacting just quick enough to push past Geto's car and take the lead. He catches a glimpse of Megumi gaining on Yuuji, eventually passing him and allowing him to start catching up to Geto. Seeing that his biggest competition is now being distracted by his teammate, Gojo turns his focus back to the track, trying to put as much distance between him and Geto as possible. A few laps pass before he hears his radio crackle to life, and he hears you speak softly so as to not startle him with the suddenness of your words.

"You're seven seconds ahead of Geto," you say, earning a hum of acknowledgement in return. "You also currently have the fastest lap so please focus on managing your tyres."

"The tyres are fine," Gojo's voice trills through your headphones. You glance over at Yaga, grimacing when you see him shaking his head.

"There's been reports of graining," you respond nonchalantly. "Please take better care of your tyres unless you want us to pit you earlier than planned and switch to plan B."

"Alright, whatever," Gojo grumbles, going quiet for a few seconds before speaking once more. "Now let me focus on driving. The sooner I win, the sooner I can see your pretty face."

You roll your eyes at his words, raising an eyebrow in confusion when Yaga fails to muffle his amused chuckle.

"Something funny?" you ask, leaning back slightly to look at the older man. He holds his hands up in surrender, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the monitor in front of him. You roll your eyes briefly before turning back to the pit wall as well, ignoring the words Yaga mutters under his breath about someone being oblivious.

The race progresses smoothly, and you find yourself feeling thankful that both you and Tsumiki (Megumi's race engineer) have had an uneventful race so far. It isn't until the race is about a third of the way through that you finally turn the radio on again, holding out a hand to stop Tsumiki from doing the same. "Gojo? We are boxing next lap, do you copy?"

"Copy," he responds immediately, his tone uncharacteristically serious for once. "Are we sticking with plan A?"

"Yes, you listened for once," you confirm, nodding your head even though he can't see you. "You have enough of a gap that we can comfortably put you on hards and have you back in the top spot in no time. The track is warm enough for those tyres."

"I always listen to you," Gojo replies without missing a beat. "Anything you say goes."

A deep sigh is all he gets in return, and he can't help the small chuckles that leaves his lips as he finishes his lap and prepares to pull into the pit lane. The stop is performed without a hitch, and you sigh in relief when Gojo emerges in third place, only a couple of seconds behind Megumi. You exchanged nods with Tsumiki, and you turn your attention back to the monitor in front of you as she radios Megumi to come in for his pit stop next.

"Okay, Gojo," you speak when you see Megumi head into the pit lane. "We're getting Megumi in and out as fast as possible. Geto is about ten seconds ahead of you, it's time to push."

"Perfect, but not as perfect as you" Gojo sings, swearing as he takes a turn a little too wide.

"Make that eleven seconds," you correct, biting your lips to hold back a laugh when Gojo swears again. "Go do your thing. I'll keep you updated."

There's no response as the radio clicks off, and you find yourself wincing when you realize that Megumi's slow pit stop has dropped him down to fifth place behind Yuuji's twin brother, Sukuna. You can hear hushed words coming from Tsumiki, and you can't help but feel bad for her predicament considering that Sukuna is the reason that Megumi hadn't been able to finish his race a couple of weeks ago after being pushed off track and into the barrier.

You watch with bated breath as the gap between Gojo and Geto begins to close, and you cross your fingers and hope that Shoko, his race engineer, will choose that moment to call him in for a tyre change. Your hopes go unanswered, and you're on the edge of your seat when Gojo managed to catch up to Geto after ten laps.

The air feels tense as you and Yaga watch Gojo get incredibly close to Geto, separating from him right as he turns a corner to avoid being hit. He's close to him— too close, you think— and you find yourself taking a deep breath to prevent yourself from turning on the radio to tell him to stop being so aggressive. A glance to your right tells you that Yaga isn't concerned with Gojo's driving, so you decide to let him be and see how the situation works out.

Your fingers grip onto your clipboard, knuckles going white as Gojo manages to swerve himself into the spot right next to Geto. You're slightly awestruck as you watch Geto and Gojo race wheel to wheel, their synchronicity impressive as they take tight corners and long straights in unison. There's a brief moment during which you wonder what it would be like if they were teammates, and you shake your head to clear the thoughts from your head. You fear that being teammates could damage their friendship beyond repair.

"There's been contact!" Yaga shouts, snapping you back to reality. You scramble for the radio button, a gasp leaving your lips as you watch Gojo swerve close to the edge of the track. You see Geto move in the opposite direction, and you quickly scan all the monitors before speaking to your racer.

"Gojo, there was contact but the car seems to be perfectly fine," you say calmly, watching as he straightens himself out and passes Geto. "That's P1."

"Great!" Gojo replies breathlessly, his voice sounding slightly strained. "How is Geto? Is he fine?"

You take a second to glance to the side, receiving a nod from Yaga before he motions to the pit lane. A soft call of your name has you turning your attention back to the radio, and you nod to yourself before updating Gojo. "He's fine, slight front wing damage so Shoko brought him in to get that changed along with his tyres. You're in the lead and we're waiting to see what the stewards will say about the incident. We think you might get a warning."

"Alright, better than a penalty," Gojo says, nodding to himself as he takes another turn. "Just a couple more laps and then I can take you out for that dinner."

"I said I'd think about it," you reply dryly, ignoring the giggle that leaves Tsumiki's lips. "Just bring it home. Geto had a bad pit stop so him, Yuuji, and Megumi are like fifteen seconds behind you."

"Whoa! Megumi made it past Sukuna? The kid's got balls."

"Language, Gojo," you remind him, sighing softly. "I'm turning the radio off now. Don't fuck this up."

"Language!" Gojo mocks, his laugh cutting out as you turn the radio off. You spend the last quarter of the race watching Megumi alongside Tsumiki, slightly impressed as Gojo manages to retain his now sixteen second lead. It isn't until Geto manages to break away from Yuuji and Megumi that you start to get nervous, and you watch as he begins to push the last few laps of the race.

"Gojo?" you ask, the radio crackling to life as you watch the monitors. "Just letting you know that Geto has managed to pull ahead of Yuuji and Megumi. I don't think he can catch up but there's still a couple of laps and he always manages to surprise us."

The silence you receive unsettles you, and you mutely turn the radio off and sit back to watch the end of the race. There's not much you can do but rely on Gojo to pull through, and you can vaguely hear Tsumiki talking to Megumi over the radio as he battles with Yuuji. You're on the edge of your seat when Geto manages to set the fastest lap in the race, and you begin to worry that he might be able to catch up to Gojo, only for your fears to be quelled when you realize that it is the final lap of the race.

"Last lap, Gojo!" you call out, turning the radio on in excitement. "Bring it home!"

"Last lap?" he asks, laughing breathlessly when he receives a hum from you. "How far behind me is the next car?"

"Fourteen seconds," you respond, bouncing your knee up and down in anticipation as he turns the last corner. The upcoming straight is the only thing between him and the finish line, and you feel your heart drop when Gojo's car suddenly starts to lose speed. "Gojo? Are you losing power?"

"Nope!" he chirps cheerily, humming softly to himself. "Are you feeling Italian? We can always choose a different restaurant for dinner?"

You do your best to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine, watching as Gojo trails towards the finish line at what can only be described as a snail's pace compared to the speed of Formula 1 cars. Your eyes widen when you see the gap between him and Geto close, and you do your best to not let your nervousness creep into your tone. "Gojo, is really not the time to be talking about dinner."

"But you're going out to dinner with me right?" comes his immediate response.

"Gojo, please hurry up and cross the finish line."

"Not until you agree to go out with me!" he trills. Yaga shoots you a pleading glance.

"Gojo! Please! Just win the race!" you beg, swallowing harshly as your fingers begin to tap against your clipboard. You catch a glimpse of the amused look on Tsumiki's face, but you're unable to give her the scathing glare you usually would due to the fear you're beginning to feel.

"I can stay here all day," he replies smugly, giggling to himself as he speeds the car up just to slow down once more. "Well I can't, but I can stay here until I cross the finish line in P20."

"Oh my fucking god," you nearly shriek, watching as Geto takes the final turn and begins to head down the straight. "Yes! Yes, I'll go out with you, Gojo! Now please just cross the damn finish line, you dumbass!"

"My pleasure!" he teases, slamming his foot down on the accelerator just in time to cross the finish line a second before Geto. A loud whoop leaves Yaga's mouth as everyone in the pit wall relaxes, too relieved by Gojo's win to instantly realize that Megumi has managed to cross the finish line before Yuuji. The cheers surrounding you sound muted as you put your head in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart and fight off a smile as you realize that you now have a date for the night.

You barely process anything as Tsumiki drags you towards the now parked racecars, and you try your best to ignore Shoko's smug smirk as she whispers into Geto's ear. You think it's safe to assume that she's filling him in on what happened with Gojo during the last lap.

His loud laugh accompanies by a friendly wink thrown your way confirms your assumption.

You stand near the back of the crowd as Gojo stands on top of his car, holding his pointer finger up and posing for pictures before leaping back onto the ground and proceeding to congratulate Geto and Megumi for their performances. You manage to catch his eye after a few minutes, and you feel your face grow warm when a genuine smile spreads across his face, his eyes sparkling as he makes his way through the crowd towards you.

"Congrats on P1," you say quietly, trying your best to ignore the way he's looking at you.

"All thanks to your genius strategies," he quips, repeating his words from earlier. The smile on his face tells you that he wants to make a suggestive comment, and you do your best to redirect the conversation before he can.

"You should probably head into the cooldown room," you comment casually, tilting your head in the direction that Geto and Megumi had disappeared to. "Podium celebration is about to start. Don't forget to get weighed."

"Don't forget to wear that pretty, red dress I like," he responds confidently. A surprised laugh leaves your lips at his comment, and you can't help but shake your head fondly as you finally look up at him.

"You know, you didn't have to give me a heart attack during the race. You could've asked me out after the race like a normal person. I would've said yes," you confess, becoming hyperaware of all the attention the two of you seem to be drawing.

"What can I say?" Gojo responds, shrugging half-heartedly as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's close enough that you can see the varying shades of blue in his eyes, and you resist the urge to jokingly push him away when he loops an arm around your waist. "I tend to have a flair for the dramatic."

"Oh boy, don't I know it," you whisper, not giving him the chance to respond before you loop your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. Both of you faintly register the whoops and cheers surrounding you, and you can't help but break apart from each other as laughter starts to bubble up in your throats.

It isn't until you fully pull away from him and usher him towards the cooldown room that you notice the sheer amount of cameras that have been pointed your way, focusing on the moment that has just been shared between the both of you. An embarrassed noise escapes your lips as you duck into your team's garage, giggling when you hear Yaga congratulating you loudly on your win. A smile spreads across your face as you settle into a seat to watch the podium ceremony, and you find yourself wondering if you and Gojo will manage to evade the press when you finally leave the track.

It's safe to say that the internet has a field day when the news of Gojo's end-of-race stunt and your spontaneous kiss breaks.

ty for reading!! rbs are appreciated <3

[thesilmarillionblog]

COME CLOSER

Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits

Word Count: 4052

A/N: English is not my first language.

You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”

Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious. 

He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.” 

“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”

“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.” 

He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”

“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”

“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner. 

“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.” 

Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle. 

You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying. 

He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble." 

"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it." 

"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance. 

Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds. 

"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands. 

You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you." 

"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage. 

"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt." 

“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”

Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though. 

“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”

He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair. 

This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.” 

You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”

Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.

Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.

You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.

Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.

As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.

Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. 

“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried. 

His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment. 

Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together. 

“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled. 

You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly. 

“About?”

You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?” 

Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow. 

“You already heard me.” 

Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”

“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.

Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”

“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”

You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”

“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly. 

“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”

Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”

Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response. 

“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”

You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree. 

He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”

“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made. 

Ben mumbled, “I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest. 

His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that. 

“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”

You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.

You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.

Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.

As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.

When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.

He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”

He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.

You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.

“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.

You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.

With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”

You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.

“Ben, it feels sensitive.”

“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”

You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.

“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.

The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.

As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”

Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”

You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.

He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”

You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.

You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.

You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.

He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”

“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.

His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.

Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.

After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks. 

You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you. 

Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip. 

He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”

He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”

As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”

You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down. 

Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you. 

You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen. 

He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”

When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.

He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”

Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body. 

He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”

You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm. 

With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue. 

He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more. 

He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits. 

His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes. 

Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed. 

When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it. 

You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?” 

You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.

You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[pastryfication]

an oscar x deaf reader, maybe she’s friends w someone working in mclaren and visits. the reader almost gets into an accident and oscar saves her, mad that she wasn’t paying attention and yells at her only to realize she’s deaf. he apologizes and he starts talking to her after that day.

close save | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x deaf reader note: i know close to nothing about lip reading and deafness, all info used in this is something i’ve googled, so feel free to correct me if something is wrong!! also, i’ve tried something new with writing it mostly from oscar’s perspective, so let me know if you like it xx

the midday sun beats down on the mclaren garage, casting long shadows over the bustling crew. it’s been a long morning of prep work, but oscar doesn’t mind—he thrives in the intensity, in the noise, in the hum of engines that fill his ears.

as he turns to grab a drink of water, something catches his eye. a young woman is standing just outside the garage, looking around with a distracted expression. you’re not wearing any of the usual gear or badges that indicate you’re part of the team, but there’s something familiar about you. oscar narrows his eyes, trying to place your face, when he notices something alarming—a forklift is backing up, and you’re right in its path.

without thinking, oscar drops the bottle and sprints toward you. his heart pounds as he closes the distance, yelling for you to move, but you don’t react. panic grips him as he reaches out, grabbing your arm and yanking you out of the way just in time. the forklift lumbers past, the driver oblivious to the close call.

oscar’s chest heaves as he turns to face you, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “what the hell were you thinking? you could’ve been—” he stops mid-sentence, noticing your startled expression. your eyes are widened, but not in fear of the near-miss. it’s something else.

you blink at him, your mouth moving soundlessly, and suddenly oscar realizes what’s wrong. you can’t hear him. the realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and the anger he felt a moment ago is instantly replaced by guilt. his face softens, and he steps back, his hand dropping from your arm.

“i’m- i’m sorry,” he stammers, his voice suddenly quiet, as if lowering it might somehow make up for his outburst. “i didn’t know . . .”

you tilt your head slightly, as if trying to read his lips, and oscar feels a wave of helplessness wash over him. he raises his hands, fumbling awkwardly as he tries to communicate. he doesn’t know any sign language—he’s never needed to—but he gestures toward the forklift, then back at you, hoping you understand that he was just worried.

to his relief, you nod, giving him a small, understanding smile. you point to your ear, then shake your head, confirming what he’s already guessed. you’re deaf.

oscar takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. he feels terrible, not just for yelling at you, but for assuming you were ignoring him when you couldn’t even hear him in the first place. “i’m sorry,” he repeats, mouthing the words more deliberately this time. he hopes you can read his lips.

you nod again, your expression kind, and motion that it’s okay. oscar feels a strange warmth in his chest at your forgiveness. he still feels like an idiot, but at least you don’t seem to hold it against him.

at that moment, lando appears from the other side of the garage, waving enthusiastically as he approaches. “hey, mate! you met jon’s sister yet?” he calls out, clearly unaware of what just happened. he jogs over, grinning broadly. “oscar, this is-”

“jon’s sister?” oscar repeats, cutting him off. the pieces fall into place—jon, lando’s personal trainer, had mentioned his sister visiting today. he hadn’t put two and two together until now. “right. i didn’t realize . . .”

lando’s grin falters as he notices the awkward tension. “oh. uh, yeah . . . she’s deaf, by the way. did i forget to mention that?”

oscar shoots him a look, but lando just shrugs, mouthing an exaggerated “sorry!” before turning back to you. “i see you’ve met oscar, then,” he says, switching to a more careful, lip-readable pace. he introduces you properly, and oscar watches as you sign something back to lando.

lando nods and translates, “she says thank you for saving her back there.”

oscar feels his face heat up a little, embarrassed but also strangely proud. “no problem,” he says, and then, after a pause, he adds, “i should’ve been more careful. i’m sorry if i scared you.”

lando relays the message, and you just smile, giving oscar a thumbs up.

over the next few hours, oscar finds himself glancing over at you more than once. he feels a strange pull, unable to tear his eyes away as you move through the garage, interacting with your brother and some of the crew, completely at ease despite the noise and chaos around you.

at one point, you catch him looking and wave. oscar waves back, feeling a bit foolish. when the day winds down and most of the team starts packing up, oscar spots you sitting on one of the low walls outside the garage, watching the track.

he hesitates for a moment, then walks over and sits down next to you, keeping a respectful distance. you look over and give him a welcoming smile, and for the first time, oscar doesn’t feel nervous. he doesn’t know how to sign, but he doesn’t need to. you sit there together, quietly watching as the sun dips lower in the sky, painting the track in shades of gold.

finally, oscar turns to you. his phone is open in his notes app, and in there he’s written: would you like to get a coffee sometime? maybe you could teach me some sign language.

you raise an eyebrow, then nod, your smile widening as you sign something to him. oscar doesn’t understand it yet, but he knows one thing: he’s definitely looking forward to learning.

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

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