#listen i'm trying to cover all my bases here

[bootyliquor9000]

doodled a bit with @dehydratedyaoifan and @coochie-sniffer3000

close ups:

[lunacias]

(Silence. CARPENTER tries to rally HAYWARD's spirits. She's afraid she's going to lose him.)

"All three of us - we can all go on living, Hayward. Just like you said."

[reiderwriter]

☎️ Don't Call Me ☎️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you find accidental comfort in your coworker. With your phone ringing nonstop, you're willing to do whatever it takes to start fresh.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, bug mentions (cockroaches), cheating, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight spanking, mentions of masturbation. Dom! Spencer.

A/N: Haha... hi guys... been a while 😚 Please enjoy the fic I dreamed up over a month ago now, and was finally able to conjure up!

Masterlist

If you were to be asked how you assumed a five-year-long relationship would end, you'd likely say something like irreparable differences. Maybe a difference in lifestyle, growing out of love, or even different plans for the future. Unfortunately, the irreparable difference your boyfriend had chosen at 10 pm on a Thursday evening was being balls deep in an irreparably different woman. 

You supposed you should've seen the signs the relationship was drawing to a close and likely you did, but with your job itself being a life or death situation almost daily, you really didn't have much time to worry about the fact that your boyfriend was sowing his oats in other fields. Based on the look of the woman spread across your bed, the oats weren't that great for her either. 

Your reaction had been somewhat delayed, but curiously not as much as hers. She'd been wonderfully blasé about the man writhing on top of her before you started screaming and throwing things, and even now you were armed with a vase of flowers (dead - you'd bought them yourself before the case you'd been on for the last two weeks) she still looked slightly bored. But at least her legs were together now, and not gynaecologist level apart. 

Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - managed to regain an ounce of dignity with a scrap of clothing, and did his best to shepard you out of the crime scene as you regained the ability to hold coherent thoughts that weren't about strangling him with his own tie. 

“Listen to me, please just for five minutes-” 

“Listen? I was just listening! To you moaning into that woman's shoulders with your eyes rolled back in your head!” 

It was as if in the last few minutes all the love you'd had for this man, all five years of relationship and comfort, and nights spent together had melted away in an instant. The rage dissipated, and you were surprisingly calm again, though that worried you, too. Surely you should be crying, or at the very least upset. You should be feeling some kind of emotion that wasn't a vague disgust at the man in front of you in full pooh bear mode, trying to tug down the hem of his shirt to cover the crown jewels. 

“It didn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything. She's just - You're gone so long on cases, and I just-” 

“So you're saying it's my fault you're cheating on me?” 

“Yes! No, wait, no, no, no, no-” 

“No, heard loud and clear, I'll try not to save lives in the future, I'm sure the BAU will understand I should be on my back 24 hours a day instead, taking all four inches you have to donate to my worthy cause.” 

“Y/N, don't be like that,” he said, exasperated. Whatever he had to be exasperated about, you had no idea. Maybe blue balls. 

“Like what?”

“Like a bitch!” 

The room went still with silence as you let him sit with the words he'd just spoken, willing him to snap back quickly so you could keep even just a shred of respect for him. 

No such apology came. 

“I'm leaving now. I expect your things packed and out of here by 12 pm tomorrow, including your thing in the bedroom. Don't bother cleaning the sheets. Just burn them. Lock the door and post the keys through the letterbox when you're done.” 

“Y/N, I told you it's not like that, I still love you, come on-” 

“Well I don't love you. And please go put some fucking pants on.” 

You stepped back over the threshold of your apartment - the lovely, nice apartment you'd been living in for the last eight years, your nice safe space - and you shuddered. 

The question wasn't exactly what next, but more like where next. What next was sending a group text in your ex-boyfriends family chat telling them what you'd walked in on, and then leaving the chat before you could get any response. The where would be a harder sell. 

From this part of the city, it'd take 2 hours to get to Penelope’s apartment, especially at this time of night without a car. Emily's apartment was similarly far. Going through a list of your coworkers again, you mentally crossed off Tara, who'd been injured on your last case and was resting at her girlfriend's apartment, Luke, who despite the promised comfort of a cute dog, you were absolutely sure didn't have a spare bed, and all members of the team with spouses and/or children. Which left just Spencer and Rossi. 

Needless to say, you found your way to Spencer's apartment in only 20 minutes, though you were sure you had disassociated the entire thing. 

Knocking on the door, you felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to leave and find a hotel at nearly 11 pm. Your last case hadn't been a pleasant one, hotel-wise, and you weren't exactly eager for another check-in.

Spencer opened the door quickly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he found you there  but only for a brief flash before his face brightened up. 

“Y/N? Do we have a case again? I thought Hotch said-” 

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible before you convinced yourself to walk away. 

Spencer took a moment to take in your words, and you took the opportunity to look at him then. He was fully clothed at least, and you were glad to find that his pajamas looked comfortable and clean. A simple plaid cotton pant with a soft-looking white long sleeved shirt pushed up his arms slightly. He'd taken out his contacts and put on his glasses, and you wondered if you'd caught him mid-book. 

“Please?” you added in a hopeful voice as he still looked at you slightly confused. 

“Oh, of course,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing inside. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?” he asked, taking your go-bag from you without question and guiding you into the main living space of his apartment. 

“Thank you, yeah. Something like that. Shoes off or on?” 

“I have some slippers. You can take them off. What happened?” he said, placing the slippers in front of you and turning back to bolt the door. 

“Invasive species?” You said, trying to sound as nonplussed as possible  despite now feeling incredibly plussed.

“Oh, bugs? Yeah, I've had a cockroach or two in the apartment before. Did you know that the average female cockroach can produce up to 10,000 offspring in a single year?” 

You sat on his couch quietly, trying not to imagine 10,000 cockroaches and failing nearly spectacularly. Unfortunately, the only image that could surpass tiny cockroach babies was of your boyfriend pounding away at another woman. Which was just a brilliant move for your psyche. 

“Spencer, I know I've really intruded here tonight, but do…. Do you wanna drink with me?” You asked, hoping to drown at least a memory or two of the last 24 hours. Hopefully, the cheating one, but you'd take cockroach extermination as well.

A slightly worried look settled on Spencer's face, but he said nothing and nodded, walking to his kitchen, grabbing two beers and meeting you back on his loveseat. 

“Oh you really have beer here!” You exclaimed, thanking him for the beverage before cracking it open and taking a sip. 

“Morgan came over with some to celebrate 6 months out of prison. These are leftovers.” 

“Right… right…” 

The first few sips were so painfully awkward that you thought about returning back to your apartment and just sleeping on your own couch. 

Vaguely, you felt Spencer watching you, taking a sip of his drink for every sip you took of yours. 

“So…” you said, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow again, already questioning whatever was about to come out of your mouth. 

“So?”  he asked. You weren't sure if it was the beer, the look on his face, or the crazy implosion of the last 5 years that had you giggling all of a sudden. You were just glad that when you cracked up, he cracked a smile as well, and a little bit of the tension went away. 

“Why are you really here, YN?” 

You took a deep breath and looked straight forward at the bookshelves Spencer had lovingly filled. Maybe this had taken him half a decade as well, so he'd understand how your life felt a little bit like a wobbly bookshelf at that second. 

“The invasive species I mentioned? It was the woman screwing my boyfriend in my bed. Ex. Ex-boyfriend.” 

You heard the intake of breath from Spencer before he put his can down and started thinking of something to say in reply to that. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh… Y/N, I-” 

A shrill ringing cut him off, and you were almost glad to not be on the receiving end of whatever pitiful words he was about to push on you, until you checked the caller ID and saw your ex's name. 

“Don't pick that up,” Spencer said as you hesitated towards the phone. With a hand over yours, he flipped the phone over, locking eyes with you as he let it ring out. 

“He's just going to try it again.”

“Let him.” 

You nodded, breaking eye contact and sinking back into Spencer's slightly wilted couch cushions. 

“In your bed? Really?” he asked, talking another sup as you took a gulp, letting the beer fizz down your throat before you could answer.

“I told him to expect me tomorrow because of how the case was looking. I guess he wasn't expecting me.” 

“I think that was a given. Unless he was into that. Exhibitionism is one of the most common kinks among adult males, and-” 

“Oh he was not into exposing himself,” you laughed into your drink, propping your head up on your hand and turning to face Spencer more. He shot another questioning glance but didn't push the issue, so you silently explained as well. By pinching your fingers together to the approximate size of your ex-boyfriend's dick. 

“Oh. Well, it's not the size that counts?” He whispered almost ironically as he took another sip, now much closer than before. You'd done your best to distance yourself from your boyfriend even as he'd followed you through your apartment half naked, but you didn't seem to find Spencer's proximity threatening at all. 

Maybe because he wasn't having sex with a random woman in your bed 5 seconds before. 

“You wanna know the worst part?” You said, leaning closer as if to tell him an even bigger secret. “He didn't even know how to use it. I haven't-” 

Another phone call blasted through, and you grabbed your phone and put it behind you. 

“He's really great at interrupting conversation when it’s just getting good,” Spencer laughed, but you were slightly disappointed that he'd leaned back away now. 

“What was it you were saying?” He asked, taking a swig of beer again, can nearing its close. 

“I haven't had an orgasm in almost three years,” you said bluntly, watching the most genuine spit take you’d seen in your life. You pat Spencer's back as he coughed up inhaled beer, bringing your feet up under you into a cosier position. 

“Okay now?” you asked as his breathing returned to normal. 

“No? Three years, Y/N? Really?” 

You shrugged and looked away  almost embarrassed to be meeting his eyes now that your sexual history was the topic of the night. 

“We had sex. He's just… he's just a really lazy lover. It'd be the same stuff every time. Handjob to some clumsy fingers missing my clit, a few pumps and cum on my face. I wasn't exactly initiating seven days a week in the hopes that this time he'd be able to locate it.” 

Spencer was somewhere between horror and trying not to laugh, eyes wide with either alarm or the strain of having to keep it in. 

“It's okay, you can laugh,” you said, but he shook his head politely.

“Y/N, I was in prison and still had more orgasms than you this year.” 

“Hey, I hear prison is a great place to meet new people. Have new experiences.”

Spencer shot you a quickly horrified look as his cheeks flushed with heat. “Y/N, I was not someone's bitch in prison.” 

“Why not? You're pretty enough for it?” 

You'd meant the line to come across as teasing, just as you'd expected the finger now twisted in a lock of his hair, playing with him, to come off as teasing as well. 

But you felt a definite throb between your legs when he looked at you again, doubly so when his eyes darted down to your lips. 

You cleared your throat and tried for a teasing tone once again. 

“So you made someone else your bitch?” you smiled, trying to drag his eyes away from your lips before you did something you'd regret. 

“No. I… I spent a long time in solitary, and there's… there's really not that much to do.” 

“So you did yourself?” 

The tips of his ears were scarlet when you finally decided to back off, tucking the curl of hair behind his ear and letting him cool off. 

“Why didn't you masturbate then?” he asked, pouting slightly still from your interrogation. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend couldn't make you cum, but a vibrator probably could. But you still haven't had an orgasm in three years. Why is that?” 

It was your turn to feel the heat, the warmth from the beer finally reaching your head. 

“He didn't want me to.” 

You didn't mean for the words to sound as sad as they did. The fact itself was just incredibly sad. Your boyfriend saw anything vaguely phallic shaped as competition and had encouraged “organic” coupling instead. 

You waited for Spencer to say something else, anything else as you held his gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and him to start talking down to you as if you were simply a victim of the worst sex in the world. 

Instead, he said “so did that other woman look as miserable as you've been for the last three years?” and the spell was broken. 

You laughed so hard, you nearly choked on the beer you'd already finished. This time, it was Spencer's turn to land a hand on your back as you winded yourself with laughter. 

“She looked bored! She looked genuinely bored. I almost thought it was just a lifelike doll, she was that unphased,” you kept giggling between gasps, forcing the words out as you threw your head onto Spencer's shoulder, hand landing on his thigh as you finally calmed down. 

“I'd be horrified if anyone looked bored while in bed with me,” came Spencer's voice, and a little shiver ran down your spine as the rasp of his whisper rang in your ear. 

You looked up from his shoulder and caught his eye immediately. If you wanted to, you could lean up by a centimetre and catch his lips with yours. And you suddenly, very much wanted to do that. 

A final shriek of your phone behind you deterred you for a few seconds, and you were about to work yourself up to scooting a little bit away from Spencer when he leaned over you, grabbed the phone, and hung up on your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to cum, Y/N?” he asked, as quietly as before as his hands traced over you on their return journey to him. He looked down your body, eyes greedily drinking in your breasts, hips, thighs and legs tucked into his side on his couch. 

You didn't know what you were going to respond when your head practically nodded by itself. Enthusiastically. 

He doesn't immediately pull you in for a kiss, and you're worried for a beat that he meant that only as a hypothetical and not an invite. A final cry from your phone has you standing in seconds, completely detached from Spencer, and the nearly embarrassing moment you pouncing him would've been.

“I should probably take it this time,” you explained, turning slightly. 

But Spencer was faster than you, if not more prepared for what was to come. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Spencer tugged you back, pulling you onto his lap. When you were firmly situated - ass over his now evidently firm cock - he grabbed the phone out of your other hand, hung up and put it in his pocket. 

“Spencer, I-I don't think that's a good idea,” you gasped as his hands slowly progressed up to your chest, and his lips dropped to your neck, biting and sucking along whatever flesh was easy for him to access. 

“You need to cum. You deserve to cum, Y/N. I'm just here to help. Use me.” 

You stifle a sharp, quick moan, biting your lips and thanking God that he couldn't see the face you made when his hips ground his cock up into your ass. 

“I'm probably not ready for this,” you stuttered slightly, breath departing your body quicker than it could arrive. 

“Probably not.”

“We work together, too. It would be awkward.”

“It might,” he nodded. “But you still want to.” 

You couldn't help the moan, finally letting it free as you tossed your head back and clawed at his forearm, wrapped around you. 

Your ass had a mind of its own, grinding back into him in circles as his hands found their way under your shirt, inquisitive fingers stroking your nipples through your bra. 

“S-Spencer,” you whimpered again, legs spreading apart as you felt that familiar warmth settle between them. He didn't miss the longing in your tone, the shift in your core, pushing one hand down your stomach and trailing it onto your thigh. 

It was as close as he could get with your pants still on, tight against your skin. He squeezed your thigh,  still licking and sucking at your neck before his hand rose to the clasp of your pants. 

It took him a long lime to fumble with them, and you thought of helping multiple times but you let yourself get distracted by the tense definition of his muscles, the rigid line of his body as he strained to please you. 

Your mind fogged with lust, and you felt the vibrations from his pocket right under you when your phone rang again. You practically jerked up in shock as pleasure hit you in a wave, Spencer's fingers finally dipping into your panties just as the vibrations hit you. They weren't centred, of course, not anywhere close to where you needed them to be for you to enjoy them the way you would a toy, but that's what Spencer was for. 

He let the call ring out, tracing small, slow circles over your clit as you jumped up into his hand, moaning and whimpering the entire time. 

“What an idiot. I bet he never touched you like this. Nice and slow.”

“N-no, S-s-” 

“I'm so glad I'm right. He didn't deserve this beautiful cunt. You're so wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded and he hummed in response, voice low and making you pulse in his lap. 

“That's it, good girl,” he whispered as you worked your cunt up and down his fingers, stilling himself so you could find your own pleasure. 

“Spencer… Spencer, fuck-” 

With his free hand, he turned your face to the side and finally kissed you properly as you moaned into his mouth. He was quick to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue against the seam of your mouth and enter your mouth, quickly dominating you as you let yourself get more and more excited. Your hips stuttered, out of rhythm and out of practice, and you almost whimpered in frustration that you couldn't get off quicker, that your body wasn't finding the orgasm quick enough despite how good, how perfect this felt.

Sensing your growing frustration, Spencer broke the kiss. 

“Come with me,” he said, pulling his hands away from your wet cunt and out of your stupid pants and encouraging your hips up until you were stood and he was stood behind you. 

Cock still firmly stood against your ass, he walked you all the way to his bedroom, hands on your hips the entire time, memorising the sway of your walk. 

“Strip and get on the bed, please, Y/N,” he said, finally peeling himself away from you as you nodded quickly and listened to him immediately. You weren't sure what to expect, so you hesitated, laying down, crawling up until your head hit the pillows. You were almost disappointed when you finally looked back at Spencer and he was still fully clothed, so sure that he was going to fuck you to your climax. 

Instead, he approached the bed, gently slid his arms around your thighs, opened your legs wider, knelt on the floor and brought your cunt to his face. 

The first touch of his to guess to your clit had you almost beside yourself with lust. You'd been sexually active for a handful of years, and this - THIS - was the first time you'd experienced such acute pleasure. 

Your hips were unable to stop, thrusting up into his face as you willed his tongue to engulf you, to be a tool in your pleasure. 

Again your phone rang, but he grabbed it quickly, pausing only a second to silence it and discard it on the bed beside you, sitting it further up the bed where it would no longer be a distraction to him. 

He dove right back in, and you rewarded him with wave after wave of fierce moan, your writhing body only restricted by a hand snaked up onto his stomach. You still pushed against his face, practically fucking it as he flattened out his to guess and let you chase your high. 

“Spencer!” You gasped and moaned, voice dripping with lust and desperation, mouth not even properly forming words now you were so close. 

You propped yourself up slightly, looking down as Spencer's eye caught your own, his chin slick with your juices, his eyes dripping with lust. You grabbed a handful of his hair and jumped that little bit faster as you felt that long forgotten whisper of pleasure, that all-encompassing explosion of satisfaction, and you came apart on Spencer's tongue. 

“Thank you, thank you, Spencer, shit, thank you,” you whimpered, falling back again into the bed as you rode out the high. When you managed to open your bleary eyes again, Spencer was propped up above you, but instead of paying you attention, he'd grabbed your phone and bought it to his ear. 

“You heard that? Good. I'm sure you're aware now that she won't be returning your calls tonight. Goodbye.” 

His voice, his words, were like a cold bucket of water to your brain as you sat up, reaching for him and finding him as his hips circled your waist. 

“Was that-?” He cut you off with a kiss  a sweet, soft one. 

“Yes.” He kissed you again  and you melted into his touch as he pulled you into his lap again. 

“H-He-” 

“He knows now what a real orgasm sounds like. He knows you're not interested anymore. He knows you're mine now.” 

You shivered at the words, your lust addled brain flooding your senses, and your cunt as you reacted to the possessiveness of his words, his tone. Part of you was turned on by the exhibitionism as well. You'd had to walk in on your ex boyfriend completely exposed, and there was satisfaction in kicking him to the curb with a similar fuck you. A fuck you that you'd enjoyed a lot. 

You pressed your lips against Spencer's and rocked your hips against him again, tasting yourself on his tongue as he laid you down once more. His cock twitched against your leg as he propped you up on the pillows, and your hands trailed down to show it some attention as your sighed into his kiss.

He eagerly shed his clothes, first his top, sitting up and pulling it over his head, giving you a deliriously enticing shot of his chest and soft stomach before dropping down to cover your body again. You let your hand find the sprinkling of hair on his lower stomach, though, following it down as you encouraged his pants off. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand, and you gladly stroked it as he kissed the plains of your body again. He found the side of your neck that he'd neglected earlier, licking and sucking until it was almost as loved as the first side, before pulling your hand away from his cock. 

You pouted and began to protest when he quickly lined his cock up with your cunt, and slid in deep and soft before you could. 

“Needed to be in you,” he whispered in your ear, gripping your hips and sliding your legs up and around him as he pushed that little bit deeper. “Keep them nice and wide for me,” he said, dropping one last kiss to your lips, before his chest rose, and his hips pulled away again. 

When they snapped back into you, you let out a generous scream of pleasure that almost had you wishing you'd never hung up. He set a quick pace, a furious pace as he too moaned into the contact of your cunt and his cock, two desperate people searching for release. 

“So tight, Y/N, you're so tight,” he moaned, flesh hitting flesh as you dug your nails into his arms, already so wet again, you could feel the sheets under you growing damp. His hand left its perch on your hip and found its way to your clit once again, and you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep to this pace without cumming a second time. 

“Keep moaning for me baby, show me how much you want it,” his voice begged, almost a rumble with how lustful he sounded. You let your voice carry, each moan a little bit more unrestricted than the last. 

“Louder, Y/N, please. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this, you don't know how much I enjoy hearing your pleasure.”

His prayers were answered when he lowered his head back down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth between licks and sucks. You practically screamed his name, pressing your chest up to grant him better access. 

You liquefied beneath him, pressure building and building until you felt him rock, lifting his chest as you came. He pulled his cock out, teasing it through your folds as you stuttered around him, your arousal squirting across his cock and sheets as you fell back to the bed, gasping in pleasure. Your hips stuttered against him, and he soothed you gently, still working his cock through your folds gently as your clit went from overwhelmed to calm to quickly overstimulated. 

“Spencer,” you whimpered, almost unable to take all the pleasure he was offering you. “Spencer, it-it hurts.” 

“Don't you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements for a second as you deliberated your answer. The lack of movement was answer alone, and you shook your head no wanting to feel his cock against you, inside you, one more time. 

“Louder, Y/N, tell me what you want.” 

“I want to keep going,” you said, as he began slowly rocking his cock against you again, sticky from your cum. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, teasing a nipple with his hand as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Please fill me up again, please I want to cum again.” 

“One more time?” He asked.

“Mhmmm… one more… one more, please.” 

You were cum drunk, so horny that you couldn't fathom stopping there. He pressed another kiss to your lips and encouraged you to flip over, propping a pillow under your stomach as he pulled your legs into the right position. 

You snuggled into the pillows at your head, pushing your ass up for him slightly as he nudged his cock against your entrance once more. 

“Where should I cum  Y/N?” He asked, reaching under you to slowly circle your clit again. 

“H-hmmm…” you said, eyes shut, focused more on the pleasure than the question. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care where he came, just as long as he let you do it, too. 

“Y/N, I expect an answer. Where should I put my cum?” 

“Anywhere,” you pouted, pressing your hips back into his cock in the hopes that he'd just fuck you again already. 

“That's not an answer,” he said, gently slapping your ass as he pulled his cock away. 

“On your back?” He asked, fingers still working your clit underneath, but trailing lower until they found your cunt, two entering you to keep you wet and stretched for him. 

“You'd need to shower before you could pass out, but I'm happy to help clean you off. They have communal showers in prison, so I'm not shy.” You moaned at the suggestion but couldn't answer further. 

“On your stomach? Again we'd have to shower off, but I would love to see your boobs decorated all nicely.” Your moans were whimpers now as he edged you with his fingers, his words gentle in your ear but dripping with so much lust and promise you couldn't stand it. You didn't want to make decisions anymore. 

“On your face?”

“Not on my face,” you snapped quickly, and he nodded and stroked your hair, hooking a strand behind your ear as he agreed. 

“Okay. Where, Y/N? Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I-Inside. Cum inside me. Please.” 

“Of course. Good job.”

He pulled his hand free gently, and quickly replaced it with his thick cock, and you moaned again at the weight of it against your walls, the familiar stretch of it. In this position, he reached deeper somehow, his thrusts slower, more precise as he drew out his own orgasm as long as possible, maximising his ability to pleasure you. 

“Good girl,” he muttered against your skin, dropping a kiss to your back. “Good girl.” 

“Wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” he confessed with each thrust. “Look at how pretty this pussy is, how wet it is for me. I wish your boyfriend could see it. I wish he could see how well-behaved you are for me. How nicely you take my cock.” 

His deep, slow strokes, his words, the kisses he pressed against any inch of your skin he could reach combined to push you over the edge a third and final time. This one wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was a steady shudder of pleasure from your hips and a quiet, satisfied sigh. 

You didn't say anything  but Spencer knew, he felt it, and he came moments after, cock deep inside as he filled you with his cum. 

“You're on birth control, right?” 

“IUD. Pill. Yeah.” You say between breathy sighs of contentment.

Muttering something behind you, he pulled out finally, leaving for a minute to grab a washcloth and clean himself off before returning to help you as well. 

“What did you mumble?” You asked, as he crawled back into your arms, looking up at him. 

“What?” He asked, ears turning slightly pink as you stared at him intently. 

“Just now. I told you I was on birth control, and you mumbled something.” 

He looked away, refusing to meet your gaze before dropping to kiss you sweetly once again. 

“Tell me,” you said, and he kissed you again. 

“Spencer, tell me,” you pouted, and he kissed the pout away. 

You almost asked again, but he kissed you too quickly, too deeply  and you lost your breath again. 

“I said,” he started, leaving you panting under him again. “It was good you're on birth control, because I like the sight of my cum dripping out of you.” 

The remaining breath left your body as you gasped, your face growing hot. You burrowed your face in his chest and let him hold you as you drifted into sleep, wrapped up in each other. 

[biteyoubiteme]

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[cherryredcheol]

"baby"

tldr: all the way seungcheol uses your nickname a/n: this has been written and waiting to be posted forEVER but i'm finally ready (i am down horrific for this man)

seungcheol x reader fluff wc: 1k

reprimands: to make sure you know he's yours

“baby.” his tone is firm, controlling. he thought it would be a good idea to invite you to his shoot today, thinking you'd like to see him in the expensive clothes he was always put in for cover shoots. what he didn’t account for was you pouting over the friendly makeup artist assigned to him for the day. 

“don’t pout. you know i only have eyes for you.” he was trying to reason with you but his patience was wearing thin. you were being difficult on purpose and he couldn’t really do anything about it given the need to protect his image and act as professional as possible. you just huffed, frown settling deeper on your face. 

“you’re being a little unreasonable,” based on the look you gave him that was the completely wrong thing to say to you. he turned when he heard them call for him from set. it was time to shine. he walked over to where you sat, bending down to meet your eyes, “if you’re good for the rest of the day i’ll reward you when we get home, baby.” 

whines: when he doesn’t have your attention

“baby,” he could hear the pathetic tone in his voice but he just couldn’t help it. he’d had a long day of meetings and listening to presentations, the only thing keeping him going was knowing that you would be waiting at home for him when it was all over. you’d look at him with your soft eyes and dote on him all weekend, just how he liked. now here he was, waiting to be coddled and you were too busy giggling at your phone to spare him a glance. 

“what could be so entertaining on the phone that you can’t spend time with me?” he was laying it on thick but he was desperate at this point, especially when his question was only answered by another tittering laugh that was still not directed at him. at this point, he was fed up. he craned his neck to see what had you all giggly. 

“oh my god. you’re kidding me!” he couldn’t believe his eyes. playing on your phone was an edit of him from the most recent gose episode. the clip wasn’t even his best moment in the episode, but he did look quite handsome that day so he can’t blame you for watching. he still really wanted to be fussed over, “seriously, put your phone down. i’m much cuter in person, baby.” 

cat-calls: as you walk by in his favorite dress

“baby!” he called out to you, dragging out the ‘y’ sound. you paused, stopping in the middle of the bedroom as you crossed from the closet to the ensuite bathroom. he was seated on the bed, tying his shoelaces when he caught sight of you in the soft pink sundress he loved so much. you looked at him with big, curious eyes, wondering why he had stopped you in the middle of getting ready for your date in the park. 

“spin for me.” he got up from the bed and reached for your hand. he held it up, above your head and twirled you in a circle, eyes taking in every inch of you. he was excited to have a picnic with you but now he was considering scrapping the whole thing to stay behind. seeing you in a sundress always did something to him. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he was full of compliments, making sure you knew exactly how beautiful he thought you were. he considered himself a lucky man every day he got to spend with you. he supposed his desire for you could wait a few hours. he should spoil you rotten with a date in the park, before spoiling you in bed. “sure you really want to go out, baby?”

admires: because he’s proud of you

“baby,” his voice is soft, eyes even softer as he cups your face. he’d just gotten home from his schedule and you’d greeted him at the door, immediately sharing the news of your promotion with him. it was a small, mostly lateral move, with a tiny raise but you were still excited to share the news with him. he kisses you deeply, trying to convey his pride to you wordlessly. 

“i should tell my mom. she’s going to be so happy for you.” this made you blush. you knew he’d be proud but you didn’t really expect him to be so happy that he’d want to tell everyone. it wasn’t even a big deal. you begged him not to call his mom right that moment and instead conceded to a spontaneous celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant. 

“i’m so proud of you,” this was now the sixth time he told you this since you shared the news with him, the second on the car ride to the restaurant. you blushed every time he said it, and had asked him to stop, to which he refused. in fact, he had doubled down. he threatened to have a cake brought to the table at dinner if you tried to silence him again. at a red light, he fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you, “call my mom, for real. i want us to share the news with her. she’s going to be so proud, baby.”

barks: on accident

“baby!” the name came out harsh, frustrated. you’d never heard it that way before; this time, it wasn’t even directed at you. the dressing room fell silent and you watched the blush creep up his neck. the boys were never going to let him live this down. he turned from you, the conversation you were having before he went on stage now gone from his mind. 

“sorry, i meant to say ‘seungkwan’”. he was trying to save the situation but it was awkward. not only had he tried to reprimand his members but he’s accidentally used your name to do it, embarrassing himself in front of his members, staff, and you. what was once a bustling hub of movement and concert preparation came to a screeching, uncomfortable halt at his faux pas. 

“we know you like seungkwan, but we didn't know you liked him that much, hyung.” jeonghan broke the tension saving his leader and ushering in some polite laughter. the commotion slowly began again and he turned back to you. his face looked normal, probably due to the makeup, but his neck was bright red. he was flustered, “they’re never going to let this go, baby.”

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[vettelsvee]

DO YOU REALLY WANT US TO TRY? | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

retired sebastian vettel x wife!reader

word count: 7265

summary: having the day off from the shootings of the documentary they're shooting about their years in formula 1, so seb decides not only to take y/n on a date in new york, but also to try for another baby

warnings: smut: female masturbation, male masturbation, fingering, oral sex (female receiving, male receiving), p in v without protection (wrap it before tap it!). bad language, curse words, translated german. based on january 2023

a/n: (you can read this while listening to maroon by taylor swift bc oh my) this is one of the extra fics i'm gonna be posting of history series! first volume on the series, meeting, will be posted as soon as i finish writing the first chapter so you can enjoy the same day both the intro, the prologue and chapter 1 🔥 feedback and reposts are truly appreciated, and also comments! thank you for all the support lately, you don't know how much it means to me <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The dawn light, painting the New York sky in pink and orange, began to filter through the windows partially covered by semi-transparent curtains.

You laid peacefully in bed, on your right side, immersed in a light sleep. Your hair sprawled across the pillow, and your breathing was calm, synchronized with the movement of your chest. A faint smile adorned your lips, possibly reflecting a pleasant dream involving you, your husband and your little ones.

Sebastian gradually woke up, his half-asleep eyes first meeting the serene face of you illuminated by the emerging sunlight.

"Good morning, my love," Vettel whispered, trying not to startle you.

You didn't react, still lost in your peaceful nocturnal fantasy. A tender expression crossed the German's face as he leaned gently to kiss your forehead, taking utmost care not to wake you.

Your day in New York held many plans, and all he wanted you was to be as rested as possible.

"Mmm," you murmured, slightly more aware now. "Seb..."

Sebastian's gaze focused on your lips, but he didn't want to overwhelm you. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheek to your jaw, chin, and even focusing on your neck, well aware that such gestures often led to a morning session of intimacy you had enjoyed many times before.

You mumbled sleepily but became a bit more conscious of your surroundings.

"That was nice, but could you let me sleep a bit more, please?" you asked.

Sebastian smiled, settling closer to you, resting his head on the pillow and letting it rest on his right hand, aligning with your level.

"I think it's already time to wake up, love," he said, gently caressing your cheek. "How about you let me wake you up properly?"

You, as if engaged in a playful banter, slowly opened your eyelids. You blinked leisurely, letting your light eyes adjust to the ambient light, a playful smile forming as you realized how close your husband was.

"What do you mean by waking me up properly?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued and emphasizing the last word.

Sebastian didn't reply. Instead, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, initiating a tender and longer kiss than initially intended. Afterward, he focused on every part of your tired face once again.

"Like that."

"Are we playing Disney princesses as if we were with the girls?" You teased, your cheeks turning slightly red. "Am I supposed to be Sleeping Beauty or what?"

Sebastian chuckled sincerely, admiring the innocence with which you, his wife, sometimes spoke due to the games you played mostly with your daughters throughout the day. Since becoming parents, you both knew your were reliving a second childhood, something you particularly loved as you had become the mother you always wanted to be, but you never got to have.

"Something like that, yes," Vettel replied. "Who could resist the incredible task of waking up a princess? Well," he corrected himself, "you’re not a princess anymore as I'm afraid to say you’re my queen."

"I haven't been awake for five minutes and you're already acting like your 2010 self! Yes, don't laugh, Seb! The one who didn't know what to do with his life and how to get rid of all the crap falling on him," you recalled. "And there was quite a lot, especially, and who flirted with every walking female being."

"But you loved him because, thanks to him, you ended up falling in love with me," Sebastian added with sarcasm. "Besides," he continued, "don't act like you've never put a foot wrong in your life. You weren't an angel a year later either."

Before you could retort, Sebastian moved aside the sheets covering him from the waist down to get out of bed. He put on his slippers and, with a mischievous smile, headed to the apartment's kitchen you had rented for your stay in the city.

"What are you doing, Sebastian Vettel?" demanded you to know, trying not to fall back asleep and figuring out what was going on in the man's head.

A playful smile appeared on Sebastian's face as he turned to you. You were watching him with considerable curiosity.

"It's a surprise, sweetheart," he commented, quickly returning to you, planting a kiss on your forehead and covering you a bit more with the sheets.

"You've got me intrigued," you said drowsily, yawning, "so don't take too long, or I'll fall back asleep."

Sebastian returned to the small space, leaving you confused and stretching in bed. Once in the kitchen, the former driver began gathering everything needed for a simple breakfast, given that his culinary skills were not the best but good enough to impress his wife. Soft sounds of utensils and plates clinking filled the air, along with the gradually brewing aroma of coffee, enough to fully awaken you. Nothing delighted you more than the scent of that brown beverage you loved, wafting through your nostrils.

You sat up slowly, leaning against the padded backrest. A few minutes later, you heard footsteps approaching. Sebastian appeared at your bedroom entrance carrying a tray filled with fresh fruits in an unevenly cut bowl, a buttered toast with peach jam, and a cup brimming with coffee, featuring a failed attempt at a heart. Additionally, there was a vase with some dried flowers that Sebastian had secretly bought the day before from a nearby florist.

"What's all this? Are we celebrating something?" you asked, completely impressed by the wonderful wake-up Seb had prepared for you. "Or is there something you want to tell me, and you don't know how?"

He carefully placed the tray on you lap, trying not to spill anything and cause a mess. Sebastian then sat beside you gently, positioning himself close enough to you but giving enough space for you to enjoy breakfast without feeling overwhelmed.

"I just wanted to make something special for the most special woman in my life," the blonde clarified.

"It's surreal that you've done this for me," you admitted. "Are you sure you're not going to ask me for a divorce or anything like that?" you added while taking a piece of bread with your hands and bringing it to your mouth.

"I thought the nonsense of wanting a divorce was a thing of the past," Sebastian replied. "Besides, this is the simplest thing in the world, love. Remember when I taught you to drive?" You nodded, eating slowly. He had given you quite a hard time, although in the end he became your best driving instructor. "Or when you got so obsessed with Moulin Rouge that I threw you a themed birthday party where you were Satine, I was Christian, and we spent the whole night singing after I spent days learning every single song Ewan McGregor sang in the movie?"

"You looked handsome as fuck in that outfit, and everyone had a great time," you said, recalling that day as if it were yesterday. "Although we didn't enjoy it as much when Mick and that girl he dated, Lara, who clearly intended to sleep together, caught us in bed together ."

The German rolled his eyes, trying to forget the scene where he had you sitting on his face, your face down focused on his penis giving him a blowjob, and the ex-couple, wearing only their underwear, entering the same room where you were.

He didn't want to remember that date even if they paid him all the money in the world, or if they even told him that climate change would end.

"Well," you continued, realizing that Sebastian didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Then you tell me what's all this for."

"Since we had the day off today, I wanted to do something special with you," Sebastian explained. "I know we have to get up at five tomorrow because we need to be at the studio around seven, so I didn't plan anything big," he apologized. "Sorry."

"Spill it, don't leave me in suspense," you said, now holding the fruit bowl in one hand and the fork in the other.

"What if we go to Central Park and spend the day there, sweetheart?"

You lifted your gaze from the coffee, surprised by the suggestion. Then, you smiled at her husband.

"Central Park is always a good plan, especially when it's with you,”  you replied cheerfully. “I like that it's something calm," you confessed, quite happy. "Mr. and Mrs. Vettel need, every now and then, a bit of calm in their lives."

Even though you hadn't finished eating everything Sebastian had prepared for you, you made a move to get up and get dressed. However, he asked you nicely to sit back down and wait for a moment.

"I have something for you," he declared affectionately, thinking about how you would react to the two surprises he had prepared, especially the first one.

Quickly, with your watchful eyes on him, he approached the built-in wardrobe in one corner of the room and took out a small bag containing an envelope and a small box wrapped in Christmas-themed wrapping paper.

"I know it's not the right time for me to give you this," Sebastian explained, pointing to the box, "but I'm sure you'll love what's inside. I couldn't give it to you with the girls around," he revealed, "or they would want to copy their mother, especially Emily. I still think they are too young for that."

You were puzzled by what the German had just said. As he offered you the box, you took it carefully in your hands. Slowly, you unwrapped it, avoiding tearing the wrapping hastily and removing the pieces of tape one by one, even though excitement was eating you.

Once you removed the wrapping, you saw what appeared to be the back of a toy box. When you turned it around you realized you were right and started screaming and jumping on the bed. Then, you ran towards Seb and gave him a tight hug, one of the ones she loved.

"Oh my God, sunshine. I can't believe it!" you exclaimed, completely thrilled. "I know I'm an adult, a mother with responsibilities," you specified, counting with your fingers, "but you've fulfilled my childhood dream!"

Sebastian laughed at your reaction, something that he was already expecting from you. As you became closer in 2008, you talked about childhood toys and that kind of stuff people usually talk about when they meet. You revealed that you had always wanted a Tamagotchi but, due to your family's economic situation, they couldn't buy you one. Your surprise came when Emily, your eldest daughter, asked for one last Christmas. Since then, he often caught you playing with it whenever your eldest ignored it or got bored of it.

He loved seeing you so excited about something as simple as a gadget with a virtual pet or whatever was inside.

"I thought you'd like to have one for yourself," Seb raised an eyebrow. "Considering how often you take it from your eldest daughter..."

You avoided his comment. Instead, you eagerly tore open the box and, once the device was out, you stopped to examine it in detail, trying not to let it slip from your trembling hands. You felt a rush of emotions running through your body, transporting you back to your childhood, remembering every detail you had experienced with your family and the ones that you didn't have around anymore.

But now you had a new family, your own family, and that was what you clung to in moments when you wondered why almost all your loved ones had somehow left you behind.

"And what's the other thing?"

You discreetly pointed, ignoring your feelings as you stepped away from your husband, to the envelope he held in his hands. You tried to reach it, but it was in vain: Sebastian, even just slightly, was taller than you.

"Oh, this?" he said. "It's nothing. Just tickets to go to the theater to see the Hamilton musical."

You opened your mouth completely in shock.

"And you say it so calm?!" you exclaimed, moving towards your husband again. "You're the most utterly unexpressive person I've ever met in my life, Vettel."

"Go get dressed, come on," he avoided that comment, heading towards the front door, grabbing his jacket, and after putting it on, he took the keys to the residence. "I'm going grocery shopping for the wonderful picnic we're going to have today."

"But what picnic are we going to have if it's winter!" you shouted, somewhat puzzled. "Sebastian Vettel, I swear to God that if I catch a cold and, on top of that, when we come back we give it to the girls, I won't be the one staying home to take care of them!"

He left the apartment laughing, closing the door behind him, leaving you to come up with wild theories about what you were going to do. It seemed you knew him very little.

Did you not know that, for him, a picnic always ended up meaning taking you to eat somewhere quiet in the city?

[...]

After almost two weeks of the History recordings, where you had only worn the most formal clothes possible, from almost gala dresses to uncomfortable pencil skirts that remind you of your days working for Red Bull as a intern and, then, as a race engineer, you could finally wear something you could describe as comfortable.

You had always been used to dressing casually except for the years you worked at Red Bull, where you often felt like you were on a fashion runway. So, for a stroll in the most famous park in New York and even for a night at the theater, you decided to wear slightly tight jeans that easily hugged your curves, hidden under a well-worn oversized sweater from your pregnancies. You left your hair, a bit longer than she was used to in recent years, loose, with its natural waves. You also wore tiny pearl-shaped earrings, your father's watch on your left wrist and white Converse shoes.

For Sebastian, an overshirt and a t-shirt hidden under his jacket, along with pants and Adidas sneakers, were more than enough. He wore that almost always, and no matter how many times you told him that it seemed like that outfit had become his uniform, he refused to change it.

And thank goodness he doesn't wear the famous headband, you criticized in your mind. How embarrassing. 

It had been almost three hours since you left your rented apartment and had done quite a few things, although it was nothing extraordinary. First, you walked hand in hand through the park, avoiding athletes and talking about trivial matters. Then, you started feeding ducks in a small pond with a loaf of bread Sebastian had specifically bought for that. You also decided to approach a group of elderly people playing chess to chat with them for a while. Older people were your weakness, and you felt sorry for most of them. You even ended up playing a few games while listening to them talk cheerfully about their lives, sharing some trivial details about yours at the same time.

When you set out for the famous picnic, they decided to call Amelie, your middle sister, to check on your kids. The moment the girl answered the call, the couple could momentarily see the desperation she was feeling:

"I swear tonight has been a disaster," the girl commented in German. "Matilda, at eleven at night, wanted to get into the pool with her Little Mermaid costume to swim and go to the magical kingdom of I don't know what," she expressed angrily, gesturing with her free hand. "Then, Emily wanted to play with your simulator, Seb, and ended up crying because I told her she needed your permission, but you were working and you couldn't give it to her," the mentioned one nodded, gesturing to his sister to continue. "And to top it off, George and Mick ended up falling asleep, leaving me in charge of two little devils."

“And what about aunt Johanna?,” you asked abruptly, leaning closer to the phone. Sebastian could sense your getting nervous, so he quickly took your hand and started caressing it with his thumb.

Amelie sighed, and you even heard a few muttered curses.

"Don't talk to me about your them, Y/N," the girl almost shouted. "They promised me they'd be here around eight, but uncle Hans ended up calling me a few hours later, drunk as a skunk, to tell me they went to a fancy dinner with some of their workmates and couldn't make it home."

"So, you've become the boss of everything, huh?" you commented with humor.

"Sadly."

The family conversation continued. As the minutes passed and you got closer to the place Sebastian had chosen for your meal that day, his parents joined them, having decided to take care of the youngest of the family, your baby boy Carl, while you were out. Michael and Corinna also decided to go to your residence, and with the youngest in her arms, she began explaining to you that he had learned to say a few new words.

"Auto," the baby joyfully exclaimed, while pointing from Schumacher's arms to a photo of Sebastian in his second team that was above the fireplace. "Auto, daddy. Daddy, das Auto ist blau."

That made Sebastian so happy that tears welled up in his eyes, although it didn't last long because you had already reached the door of the restaurant. Soft lights, despite it being midday, illuminated the path to the entrance, which stood out with its wide windows, resembling a glass display, showcasing diners already enjoying their meals.

After hanging up the call with your relatives, you entered and let yourselves be enveloped by the atmosphere. The interior was elegantly decorated, but not overly extravagant. There were plenty of potted plants of all kinds decorating every corner, and you weren't sure if it was that or not, but a very faint scent, like vanilla, seemed to emanate from some unknown place.

A waiter approached you both while you were chatting animatedly about the place.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Vettel," the young man interrupted, who should be in his twenties and apparently seemed to be a fan of your husband by his way to behave and, apparently, nervousness. "If you follow me I'll show you the table we've prepared so you can enjoy your meal without interruptions."

Sebastian and you thanked him with a slight nod and proceeded to follow him. You crossed the different sections of the establishment, trying not to attract the attention of any customers, until you reached a more secluded corner from where Central Park could be seen in the distance.

Once seated, the guy who was serving you offered you menus and, immediately, an older woman placed a few appetizers on the table, saying they were on the house.

At that moment, while deciding what to order, you began to dwell on the conversation you had with your youngest sister before starting to record the documentary for the first time. You didn't know how to broach to Seb the subject of getting pregnant again. You were nervous about his possible reaction, yes, but at the same time, you had a good feeling. Your husband was currently dissecting the steak you had ordered, while you dipped a nacho into some guacamole. Trying not to delay it further, you finally spoke while settling into your chair:

"Seb?" you asked to get his attention. "The other day, Lou told me something a bit... strange," you innocently expressed.

Vettel stopped cutting the piece of meat, dropped the utensils onto the plate, and looked at you a bit uneasy, not knowing what you might be referring to. 

"What do you mean something a bit strange?" he said, frowning and with a concerned tone. "What did she tell you?"

"She said we could go for one more bun," you emphasized the phrase with a bit of irony. "She also said we should have a second honeymoon or something like that," you crossed her arms, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "You know how my sister is."

And, indeed, Sebastian knew. He already had an idea of where this conversation was going, and if you meant it in a positive way, he was totally on board.

"So... one more bun, huh?" he teased, pretending not to know where the conversation was heading.

"I think Lou was talking about having another baby, love," you bluntly stated.

Sebastian nodded with excitement, knowing that your expression was currently a masterpiece. If you thought he wouldn't catch on to what you were referring to, you were absolutely mistaken. Every time your sister had told him that she'd like to have another nephew, she had done it using that phrase which, though totally absurd, had become an internal joke between them both. Now, you seemed to be a part of it as well.

"I know," Seb finally admitted, not wanting to tease you anymore as you seemed a bit deflated. "And... what do you think?"

You had a thoughtful expression, unsure of what to say. On one hand, you indeed wanted to be a mother for the fourth time, but there were so many things swirling in your head, things that would soon become a reality...

"What are you thinking, Y/N? Wouldn't it excite you us being parents again?" 

Sebastian moved his chair closer to the table and took both of your hands while keeping a close eye on you. He could feel you trembling a bit, and it wasn't particularly because of the cold.

"No, it's not that, it's just that... Carl is still a baby... You've just retired, and the only thing you should focus on now is on resting and making up for lost time. I'm starting all this stuff of F1 Academy soon and, on top of that, there's the mess of the documentary we've gotten into," you listed. "I don't feel capable of being a mother again, Seb," she confessed. "It will be overwhelming for us."

The German took your chin and made you look at him. Your gazes met, and your found somehow serenity amidst all the concerns that were overwhelming you at the moment.

"Listen, Y/N," the former driver expressed clearly and calmly. "I'll always be by your side, no matter where I am or what I do, okay?" You nodded, trying to hold back tears. "If you don't think now is the best time to have a baby, I'll wait, and if that time never comes, I'll be more than happy to see our little ones grow up next to you."

"Are you serious?"

"Very serious, Y/N," Seb affirmed once again. "I've always wanted to have a big family with you. You know that for me, the more, the merrier."

You leaned back a bit, surprised by your husband's words. You started reflecting on everything he had said since then, especially the if you don't think now is the best time to have a baby, I'll wait.

Did that mean he might want a fourth child... right?

"Wait, wait, wait," you played with your hands. "What did you say before?"

"I want to have all the babies in the world with you, and I'll wait as long as you need," Sebastian explained again.

Your eyes began to fill with tears of joy, causing confusion for your husband, who began to genuinely worry about you. He hadn't seen you like this for quite some time, and those were not particularly good times.

"Do you really want another baby?" you asked, now crying after you tried holding back tears. "Do you really want us to try?"

"How could I not want it, silly girl?" he rushed to hug you, already knowing what was going through your mind. "I'm willing to do anything you say except to sign divorce papers. So, if you want another mini version of us running around, with the mini versions of us that are no longer so mini running alongside, let's do it."

Your excitement couldn't fit into your body at the moment.

"You're amazing, did you know that?" you expressed, holding onto your husband even tighter.

"Of course," the German laughed, causing you to laugh as well. "I'm just doing what all men should do: be, or at least try to be, everything their girls deserve."

And you knew he was right.

"So...?"

You were nervous about the final answer, although after seeing Sebastian's eyes light up and narrow, revealing the dimples on his cheeks, he didn't need to give you a response: you already knew, and knew your husband too well to understand what was going through his mind at that moment.

"After the musical and dinner I'm going to make you the most beautiful baby in the world. Four kids for us, who have four Formula 1 world championships, is that ok with you?"

[...]

The return trip had created a kind of barrier between you. 

You knew what you were going to do, you had talked about it and, especially, it obviously wasn't the first time you had done it. Nevertheless, doubts always plagued you both when it came to conceiving a baby because, after the miscarriage you had in 2016, fear was always present.

Both the musical, from which you had left crying, and the dinner, despite having been caught by paparazzi and fans, to whom you did not deny anything, were great even Britta wasn't with you to help you. The night was young, and for you it had just begun no matter how much you tried to fool yourselves by promising each other that you would go to sleep soon.

As soon as you arrived at the apartment, you shared kisses that were more intimate than normal, and even some friction over your clothes. You were starting to get very horny, but had to calm down even you became more excited at the same time when Seb told you that, after the shower he was going to take, he would give you a lot of love.

Carl was barely two years old, and although Seb bragged about his three girls every time he had the opportunity to, you knew that what your husband wanted most was to have another small version of him running around.

You took off your clothes quickly, not bothering to put them on properly or look at where they ended up being thrown off. You laid down on the bed, wearing only the black lace panties, a courtesy gift from your sister and which had ended up becoming Sebastian's favorites, and you began to lower your left hand very slowly towards your privacy. You took some time for yourself despite how aroused you were by your touch, focusing on you nipples and, little by little, working your way down to your stomach, leaving a trail of caresses that made you very wet, as you could tell. You had had a lot of problems with your body in the past but, now, you felt like a fucking Greek goddess, and you didn't need Seb's compliments to believe it.

Once you reached your pussy, you tried to spend a brief moment exploring it However, you hunger was getting the better of you, and your excitement even more, so you quickly began to give small massages with the slowest speed you could to your clit, which made you let out a slight gasp. You continued to focus on yourself to the point that you had forgotten about Seb, who had already taken his shower and, completely naked from the bathroom door, was admiring the show that you were giving to him.

At the same time that you were increasing the pressure you were exerting on your G-spot, you began massaging your right breast with your non-dominant hand, the right one, focusing first on the areola and gradually moving towards your nipple, limiting yourself to rubbing it with the index finger. The movement of both of your hands, completely in rhythm, made Seb's penis become completely erect and ready to do anything to you. 

The German had been the one who had taught you everything about masturbation, no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise.

The man walked towards where you were while massaging his penis. As soon as he arrived and had you in front of him, he climbed onto the bed and lay down next to you, still absorbed in your own pleasure. As soon as he had the chance, Seb took advantage to kiss you fiercely, which was eagerly responded by you. You had already noticed that your husband had joined the party, although not yet actively. As if Vettel had read your thoughts, he began to caress your stomach and, without warning, he inserted his hand into your underwear, wasting no time and getting to work with the bundle of nerves between your legs.

"Fuck, Seb..." you whimpered with pleasure. "You could have warned earlier."

"If I had warned you you wouldn't be moaning three times louder right now than when your hand was in my place," Seb said, moving his finger from your clit to your inside, surprising you. "Remember that no one will ever give you more pleasure than me, Y/N Vettel."

Sebastian wanted to continue in that position. However, he knew they had to finish quickly. In just a few hours you had to be up and getting ready to continue filming the documentary, and it didn't seem particularly right to fuck you all night long even though that was his only desire.

Quickly, the German quickly pulled out of you, what made you let out a cry of frustration at the loss of contact. Instead, Sebastian got off the bed, knelt in front of you and took your thighs, squeezing hard to lower you to the edge of the surface and leave your pussy perfectly aligned with his mouth. You knew perfectly well that, in those moments, the blonde was the one who had control of you, no matter how much you wanted to dominate him. But you were not going to object to it: you loved Seb being in control.

Sex for you, who had been affectionately and sarcastically nicknamed the paddock royalty back in the day, was never boring but actually quite the opposite: it was a box full of surprises in which, in a matter of seconds, Seb could go from being rough and dominant, to be the exact representation of the perfect guy in teenage romantic movies.

The man took time to admire you. You only had your panties left over to be completely naked before him. Quickly, he slowly got rid of them, even though you were putting up some resistance. Then, he opened your legs and held them tightly by your thighs, on which he began to leave kisses, caresses and even the occasional slight bite, alternating between them tortuously.

"Sebastian Vettel, I'm not here to play games," you told him reluctantly, anxious for him to take the next step once and for all. "Either you fuck right now or I'll rub myself against the pillow until I come and the pillowcase ends up soaked."

He stood up, stopping touching your body. It caused, once again, great frustration for you.

"Do you think a bag filled with feathers is going to please you more than me?," Vettel asked curiously, playing with you.

"Seeing that you're acting like a dick, yes," you replied, sitting up and resting on the bed with your forearms.

"Are you sure what you're saying, meine Königin?"

You felt more horny after having heard that nickname. Not even a few milliseconds passed when you had already pushed him to lie down again. Immediately afterwards, with his arms tightly holding your lower extremities, the German was already kneeling again and running his tongue throughout your intimacy without any kind of mercy.

“Fuck, Seb!,” you squealed in surprise, prompting the German to lick faster. "My God..."

Seb was going so fast that your body was constantly rising and falling, your breasts bouncing hard almost in unison with Sebastian's licks. To change the rules of the game, and surprise you once again, he opened your folds widely with one hand and, with the other one, started massaging that button that caused you so much pleasure. Your legs had begun to close due to you being close to the orgasm, and the German could do nothing about it except try to delay the arrival of it. He had seen first-hand that, the longer you took to reach your release, the better it was. For this reason, he decided to slow down the pace of the movements, now replacing them with slower rubbing of your clit fusing it with the penetration of his middle finger.

The screams were getting louder, and Seb noticed how your walls contracted on his finger with increasing frequency and violence. He felt the orgasm close to you, and that was the impulse to add one more finger inside you to the equation, accompanied by the entire surface of his tongue on your nerves. While the two fingers were entering and leaving you, he devoured your pussy with a little bit of difficulty due to the lack of access, but with an incredible hunger. He was excited, and he noticed how the precum began to come out of the tip of his penis. This served no purpose other than to give him more motivation to eat you out as if he hadn't done so in a long time.

He needed to fuck you as soon as possible, but first he needed to please you. You always came first for him in sex, and it had become a ritual that emerged unexpectedly years ago, all thanks to Rosberg.

"I'm about to cum, sunshine," you shouted, hunching your back aggressively and lifting your head as high as you could while you kept pulling hard on your husband's hair. "Let me do something, please... I get on top of you and give you a blowjob while you keep going," you begged. “I’m serious, Seb, don't ignore me. Fuck...!”

Sebastian didn't replied as he was completely absorbed in giving you a good orgasm, because saying the best would be impossible. That position had been earned by those when celebrating your victory in the 2013 World Driver's Championship despite everything that it entailed later.

A few light bites on your clit and the increase in the thrusts, focusing on that point inside you that gave you so much pleasure, were the key to the arrival of your climax as you were holding onto the bed sheets tightly while he writhed wildly. 

Seb took some time to take all of your cum and let you calm down because there was still the best part of sex left.

"That was... lovely. Simply lovely."

Vettel sat up, gladly took the remains of your cum and sat down next to you, leaving a chaste kiss on you forehead and, later, on you lips, making you taste yourself.

"I'm the best at my job, what can I say? The best for my girl," he said modestly.

"So..." you commented before the German went on to the next thing and ignoring his words. "Are you going to let me make you feel good or not?"

"No."

A mischievous smile began to form on the man's face. Although he was quite enjoying making you nervous, the truth is that he didn't want that day to focus on him.

If you were going to make a baby, all the attention had to go to you: for that you were the one who would carry it, with everything that entailed, for nine months... more or less.

"Not even a simple blowjob?," you tried to convince him. "Not even a little suck? Come on, Seb."

"Don't insist anymore, really."

"I hope at least that you let your besties do it for me," you approached your husband, taking you breasts and squeezing them while impatiently bringing them closer to his face.

Sebastian laughed, again refusing your insistence. 

"Y/N," Vettel began to explain, "I want you to lie down," he gave you a short kiss, "and let me do everything," he took you by your waist and began to lay you down on the bed again. "Let me do all the work, love," he finished saying, standing upon top of you and beginning to rub his member against your intimacy. "Let me remind you that we're gonna make a baby, love, and you already know that in the Vettel's baby factory, children are made with love. Much affection and love."

You hated when your husband became dominant when they had sex and as quickly as possible ended up acting as if he were a prince straight out of Disney movies.

"Yes, whatever you say," you reprimanded. "It's not fair, Seb. I want to make you feel good too."

"It's not fair either that you suffer during pregnancy and I just stand by and watch," that's when you had to agree with him. "You...," he corrected herself, "you all women do everything. We only take part in the fun part."

Again, without letting you say anything else, he began to spread kisses along your neck, sucking on the spots he knew you liked the most. At the same time, he began to rub himself impatiently on the your stomach, masturbating himself so that his erection would not go down even though it was impossible at that point.

"I love when you do that..." you moaned when you noticed how the German's teeth dug lightly into you skin, "although I would like more to have you inside me."

"Patience, Y/N."

Sebastian continued kissing you through your entire neck, and all you could do was making increasingly aggressive gestures as you felt your pleasure increasing. His penis was becoming more and more erect and, as he could tell by touching your inner lips, you were very, very wet again.

"Please, Seb, don't stop," you moaned in desperation when you stopped feeling the German's lips. "I want you to do something else now, please."

"What do you want me to do?"

A mischievous smile appeared on the blonde's face at the possibilities that were going through his mind right now about what he could do with you. He looked at the time on his digital watch, and when he saw that it was almost twenty to one in the morning, something in him changed.

"Do you want to be in control now, Königin?," he commented with a hoarse and serious voice. "Is that what you want?"

“If you know that’s what I want, I don't know why you're asking me then.”

"Well," replied Sebastian, who had already reached the height of excitement, "let's do it my way because you haven't given me a clear answer..."

Before you could say anything else, he gave you another kiss, although this time he showed much more desperation than anyone you had shared earlier that same night.

"Are you going to leave me like that or what?," you said, seeing that your husband was not up to the task of what he had promised you and, therefore, he stepped away from you. "Switch positions with me right now and lie on the fucking bed, Sebastian."

He did as requested, completely surprised by the words you had let out of your mouth even though it was not the first time he had seen you behave that way with him during your intimate moments.

You had many facets, but the one where you had control during sex was secretly his second favorite, followed right after the one of you being the world's best mother.

Once you husband was finally lying down, you desperately grabbed his member and began to move it up and down at the same time as you clumsily pleasured yourself. Within a few seconds you already had it in your mouth, constantly putting it in and out of your lips and masturbating what you couldn't fit due to its length.

"Are you going to let me fuck you now or not?," Sebastian verbalized, trying not to sound desperate.

"You'll fuck me when I decide it, Vettel," you said. "So now you better shut up for a while. Let me continue doing my job or I'm afraid I'll have to stop too."

"Princess..." Seb complained.

You couldn't take it anymore no matter how much you tried to make excuses for yourself and restrain your husband. You hated it when Sebastian begged you: you were tough, and you coped differently depending on the day. Suddenly, and to the German's surprise, you straddled him and aligned you entrance with his member, slowly letting yourself fall just to torture him. Seb responded with loud gasps accompanied by several expletives towards you, which served to excite you even more.

Finally, you lowered yourself completely, letting out a scream as soon as you felt the German's cock completely inside you. At first, you put your hands on Seb's chest, although you quickly moved them to the edge of the headboard when you saw that he wanted to have full access to your breasts, which he began to caress more than with desire, with affection, focusing on the nipples especially, while massaging them together.

You increased the promising rhythm of your hips when you saw Seb getting close to orgasm. Him, to help you, took you by your waist, helping you in that swing that your hips were so accustomed to doing.

"Honey, I'm close," said Sebastian, who was having a hard time to even speak.

This only made you squeeze your insides and increase more, if possible, your speed, even causing you little damage. The German's heartbreaking screams were filling your ears and, as soon as you began to touch yourself to try to reach the orgasm at the same time as Sebastian's, you joined his gasps.

"God, Y/N, there. Yes!"

A few more thrusts were enough for Sebastian to cum inside you, who continued riding him with impetus. Just a minute later, you had also reached the long-awaited second orgasm of the day, without a doubt much better than the first one.

With your legs shaking, carefully got off your husband, who helped you even though he couldn't even handle his own body. You laid down next to him, tangling your legs next to his. Sebastian, as soon as he had you next to him, took you in his arms and began to caress you and kiss you delicately all over your face.

Sleep began to take its toll on your bodies, and as soon as you began to get closer to each other, yawns replaced moans. Despite being aware that you had to get up in less than four hours, you wouldn't change anything that had happened between you moments before.

"I never get tired of kissing you," you commented, sliding your fingers through Sebastian's hair and snuggling with him, "or hugging you, or anything with you. I am very lucky to have you, and I would live again everything we have gone through in this and a thousand other lives just to be with you,” you acknowledged.

"I'm the lucky one, Y/N," he limited to say with honesty as he placed a kiss on your forehead for the umpteenth time that day, "and you'll never know how much."

[galacticseonghwa]

reading and meetings - Lee Jeno

INCLUDES ! — vice president!jeno x fem!reader, swearing, suggestive, lmk if i've missed anything else AUTHORS NOTE ! — this one-shot is based on a tiktok imagine i saw ages ago and just decided to write it in my writing style whirl adding a little something to it🙂‍↕️ also if yous happen to want me to make the fic longer, don't be scared to ask me to!

sitting on your boyfriend's lap, a soft-cover copy of die for you in hand. you can feel jeno's hands sliding up and down your thigh gently.

he’s in an important meeting and you were asked to keep him company through an online meeting as he listens to men drone on and on about the fact that the CEO of the company does "nothing" for them.

you hear complaint after complaint but pay no attention to what's actually being said. every few minutes you hear jeno scoff as he rolls his neck to crack it with a grunt.

you lean your forehead against the side of his neck as you turn the page only to come across a smut scene.

shifting in jeno's lap with an awkward cough thinking jeno wouldn’t be reading along with you, which he indeed was doing but he won't ever admit to that, you feel his arm snake around your waist and pull you closer to him if it was even possible.

now you're trying your hardest to focus on the words, all you could think and feel was the fact that your boyfriend had his hands on your thighs, gripping them softly.

feeling him place a kiss on your temple, you feel his hot breath on the side of my neck before he finally speaks, lowly.

“baby, calm down, i can feel you throbbing on my thigh.” he says before turning his attention back to the conversation.

jeno's hands knead your thighs softly, slowly dragging them higher up your inner thigh. your eyebrows furrow as you try harder to concentrate on the book in your hands and not jeno's hands.

his hands leave your thighs quick enough to turn his camera off. "jeno? where did you go?" a female's voice whines leading you to snap your eyes up to jeno's laptop to see a blonde girl pouting her red-stained lips.

jeno chuckles at you. "i'm still here, i just have to do something and i don't need you all seeing what i do in my personal time." is all he states before muting himself.

jeno’s hands return to your thighs, gripping the flesh harder as they travel dangerously closer to your core.

“jeno?” you whisper out. jeno smirks and takes the book from your hands, putting it down with the page you were reading still open.

“baby.” jeno hums, his lips tracing the side of your neck, his tongue peeking through his lips as he reaches your jaw.

he takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your lime basil & mandarin perfume. "you always smell so good." he mumbles into your skin.

TAGLIST — @sinisxtea @haechology @wonwootakemyheart @sk8mrk @vltevgrdn @rjreins @nanaleehyuck

[thewanderingmask]

my submission for the hermitcraft season 10 fan art gallery: Xisuma Eternal! (actual size on left, embiggened version on right)

there are a ton of little thoughts that went into this and i will now go off about them at length (ramble under the cut)

let's start with the image layout and composition! my first idea was to do an homage to the original doom box art because of X's skin, but ultimately I decided on referencing this Eternal cover (hence the title of the piece) because it sparked some stronger ideas in my brain.

i still wanted to keep that link to the original though, so i did my very best to emulate the original logo with X's name - replacing the original texture with binary as one of many references to X's role supporting the technical side of the server.

(for no reason other than my own amusement, the binary in the letters is translated lyrics from X's verse in the hermit gang song. i don't even know how much of that is still visible after lining the letters, but i liked putting it there)

i've only been watching hermitcraft for a few months, and there's an awful lot of history i don't know about. so i focused on doing my best celebrating builds X has worked on here in season 10! i would have loved to include his base as well, but ultimately i ran out of room.

(there are still a few nods to other seasons based on knowledge i've acquired through osmosis. evil X is the most obvious, but i was also able to sneak in a couple small carvings next to the X in the title text!)

coming back around to xisuma's work on the technical side, that's why Evil X is backed by error windows. it's also why xisuma is holding a toolbox! it was the best visual metaphor i could come up with for the digital job of maintenance and repair.

(and of course he has a lovely cup of tea as well)

the allays (holding redstone) are partially in reference to farms X has been making, partially bringing back in that angelic/demonic vibe of Doom, and mostly because their intended role of supporters and helpers feels very thematically appropriate for X.

the lines in the sky are of course meant to evoke the shapes of mace race, and the black cube is a minecraft-ified version of the Soulside Eclipse logo.

(if you're not familiar, that's xisuma's music! it's good!! give it a listen sometime! it's on youtube!)

the silverfish at the very bottom are visual reference to the demon hordes of Doom - and of course they're also much more directly referencing X's very clever prank in impulse's city.

finally, on the walls of spawn we have the carved symbols - one for every other hermit. i remember X mentioning in a stream once something about fulfillment from supporting others. (i apologise if i'm remembering less than clearly.) it just felt like if i wanted to represent X, it felt important to include them as well.

and of course it made me happy to do something for Every hermit, since all of them

(smallishbeans/joel was actually the one i got most stuck on! there wasn't really a single item or symbol i could think of to narrow him down to. ultimately i decided on a torii gate and a little letter J, but i'm honestly still thinking about it)

ah right, and the Actual last thing: this turner out to be totally unnecessary, but i absolutely did draw this in the minecraft map hex code colours. it's a tricky palette to work with, and i learned a LOT about pixel art while trying to get the sky to look nice!

this piece took about 10 days to complete, maybe the longest i've ever spent on a single illustration like this - and honestly, i'm really happy and pretty proud of how it turned out!!

[angelpuns]

50au part 30

They were going to fuck with his head again. He didn't really even understand what they were doing the first time, and now they were keeping him captive and not even letting him choose whether they could do this or not. 

At least the purple one- at least Donnie didn't seem to want to do it. 

And yet, he still sat in the magic circle and closed his eyes. Even as Leo stared him down and willed him not to do this. 

He'd already seen enough of, Leo knew he'd seen it. He didn’t want them to see it. Sure, he didn't believe they were his family, but he didn't want them to…to pity him after what they saw there. 

The way the purple one had looked at him before…he didn't even know these people that well, but it crushed something inside him to think of them all looking at him like that. 

He fought against his restraints with everything he had, the metal biting into his arms and legs the more he strained. If he had his swords he could just portal away, but he didn't know where they were. Based on what they had told him, one of them had probably locked the swords away. 

He glanced around with his limited head movement, the back of the bulky armchair blocking most of his view. He had to make a plan before Draxum started the spell again. 

His eyes caught the gaze of the rat. Their…father. Somehow. 

He didn't understand it, but Leo knew he had to use the one thing he had left. His voice. 

“Dad! Dad, please, don't let them do this!” He put everything he had into it, watching the rat with a pleading expression, “ Dad, please, I'm scared.” 

“ Blue..” The rat frowned, eyes shining with tears. He reached out his hands as if to free Leo, but Draxum put an arm out and stopped him. 

“ Do not fall for it, Lou. He's trying to get you to free him,” He warned, glaring at Leo.

Leo glared right back. He knew this guy was evil. 

“ Dad, don't listen to him! He’s- he's evil! He threw me off a building, remember!?” Leo whined, struggling against the restraints. The chair didn't budge. 

“ Dad, please! I promise I'll- I'll be good! I'll clean my room and- and I'll never ask you for anything ever again, just please help me!” 

The rat watched him with wet eyes and a frown, before turning away, eyes cast to the ground. 

Fury ignited in his chest. 

“FINE! MIGHT AS WELL JUST SAY YOU DON'T LOVE ME, THEN!” He bit out, wriggling to try and at least knock the chair over or something. Anything. 

“I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS! ANY OF YOU!” He glanced at his supposed brothers, their eyes still shut and their markings glowing faintly. He hoped they could still hear this. He needed them to hear this, “ I'M GONNA REMEMBER THIS AND I WON’T FORGIVE ANY OF YOU!” 

The rat looked up at that, but Leo only caught a glimpse of his expression before everything went dark. 

Leo let out a shuddering breath. He was somewhere dark.

He was drifting somewhere dark and cold and empty again. 

Pain ignited everywhere. There wasn't a spot on his body that didn't hurt. Not a scale untouched by that burning, biting feeling. 

Every stale, dusty breath felt like something broke inside him, like a piece of his soul as crumbling away and drifting off into the dark expanse around him. 

He wheezed out a faint chuckle. He must have blacked out for a second, the lack of real oxygen up here finally getting to him. They should really consider using this place as an inspiration for a Jupiter Jim comic. 

Leo could see it now, in bright red print across the cover. 

‘Jupiter Jim and the Prison Dimension’ 

“Heh. That'd be…that’d be a 20 part special,” He wheezed, the unrelenting darkness seeming to steal the sound right from his mouth. There wasn't even an echo, a persistent ringing he hadn't noticed taking up residence instead. 

Even though he was probably about to die, Leo could only imagine what that special might look like. Jupiter Jim obviously gets trapped there, separated from Red Fox…but it's for the greater good. He's a hero. 

The first day would be hard, probably. He'd be in pain and drifting through space. Maybe his comms were broken and his suit was malfunctioning. He'd discover there was oxygen here.  Shitty oxygen, but still. 

Even though Jupiter Jim was always so brave in the movies, Leo liked to think that maybe he was a little scared this time. That he knew he was going to die and no one was going to save him. And then Jupiter Jim would give up and let himself just hang in stasis for all of eternity. 

But Jupiter Jim always figures it out, so he'd spend the next 20 parts trying to survive against all odds. 

Leo wanted to do that, too. 

Survive. 

Even though no one was coming for him…and no one even knew he was gone…

He wanted to live. 

Leo shuffled, the sound drowned out by the persistent ringing. A sob caught in his throat, and that made the dam break. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he drew himself in, getting smaller and smaller. A blip on the map, a speck of dust floating in space. Stuck there with no one to even remember that it existed. 

He missed New York. He missed the Lair. He missed ordering a fresh pizza at Run of the Mill and sitting at his favorite booth. He missed the Hidden City and all it’s weirdness. 

Hell, he even missed Draxum and all his evil schemes. Pizza supreme, he could never tell anyone that. 

Sobs shook his shoulders and each wheezing, wet breath seemed to stick his nerves with a thousand needles. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad, but he needed this. 

There was no getting out of this one, and he’d known that when he had drawn up this shitty, shitty plan. 

The only one that was going to remember him now was the krang, if he ever came back to toss Leo around again. 

Give him enough time and Leo might start to miss him, too. 

Leo let out a weak sigh, teeth chattering. He wondered how long he'd been here. 

Last he remembered, Krang was hulk-smashing him through a planet. It had hurt his shell so bad, maybe irreparably bad. He hoped not. He wanted to live. He wanted to call the Jupiter Jim people…the producers or fucking whatever and tell them his awesome idea. 

He could be soooo rich. And he'd get to be an extra in it.

Yeah, that'd be…that’d be cool. 

Moncrief had tried to keep him in his fucked up little JJ museum so he already looked perfect for the part. Heh, he could see it now. His road to fame as a mutant turtle…he had to live for that. 

No. That wasn't right. Leo tucked his hands to his chest, thumbs and forefinger rubbing together. He was supposed to be holding something…something that he was actually supposed to be living for. 

Paper appeared in his hands from seemingly nowhere. Ah, yeah, that's what it was. 

Maybe a comic or something. But it wasn't thick like a comic. It was only one page and it was well worn. Older than it should have been. 

Right, because it was from the future. It was from the future and it had that fucking key on the back. 

He felt the torn edges with his thumb, a tear rolling down his cheek. His breath seemed to catch. 

Right. 

He had to live for them. 

Leo looked down at the photo, the smiling faces of him and his family looking back at him. 

In the dark there was suddenly a warm orange light, illuminating the photo in his hands from behind. 

He turned in the void and was face to face with it. 

A portal. A bright portal that filled him with a strange sort of happiness. It reminded him of sunshine and hope and joy and all the things that were good in the world. 

And razzmatazz and polka dots and competition and the faint smell of spray paint and- 

Leo blinked and it was gone. 

He looked up and remembered all of a sudden what he was supposed to be doing. 

Everything was hot and debris seemed to fall from everywhere - his home was crumbling. He had to save it - he had to keep the Shredder from destroying everything. 

Leo glanced around, the smoke and the fire filling the lair. He could barely keep up with the Shredder, eyes following the purple beast as it launched itself towards him. 

He dodged back as the Shredder swiped at him, barely catching himself with a portal. It wasn't far enough, though, the Shredded crossing the distance like it was nothing. It swiped again and Leo brought the sword up to fight back. The shredder caught the blade as it swung down, sparks flying as he grabbed the odachi and splintered it into pieces like a twig. 

“ my odachi!” Leo scrambled backwards, but the Shredder managed to grab him at the last second, holding him up by his head. This was how he died, this was how he was going to die, he just knew it. 

He kicked and fought and tried to break free, but it was useless. The shredder reeled back and Leo found himself bracing for impact. 

But it never came. Something red and bright and buzzing with protective energy burst from behind, a giant red fist punching the Shredder. It dropped Leo and he scrambled to his feet, pressing himself to the wall and staring in awe as his strong, brave older brother fought the shredder with everything he had. 

Raph had him in a choke hold, squeezing the shredder and holding him back, but then- 

Leo woke with a start. 

As his eyes adjusted to his dark room, they focused on the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. He was glad he put them there. That way the scary dreams couldn't get him and he didn't have to worry about any monsters getting him either. 

He sat up, heart still beating too fast. It was just a scary dream. He had them all the time and even though this time it was really scary, he was super brave. 

He was so brave he could just go right back to sleep and not even turn on the light or have a snack or anything. 

So he laid back down and he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But his pillow was too warm now. And his toes were too cold, even under the blanket. And everything was just not right. 

So he needed to find something to make it right. 

He hopped out of bed, grabbing his pillow and his blanket and trailing out into the dark lair. It was always so quiet at night. he didn't like that.  

Leo sometimes wondered if the people who lived here before, the people who made these rooms and stuff, had been loud. He thinks they must have, because they liked a lot of the same things he did, and he liked to be loud. 

He made his way across the large, open floor, glancing up at the sky as he did. He could never see the real stars from down here. The city lights were all too bright. But he had seen them on movies and read about them in books. 

He wondered if they were as bright as the glow in the dark stars. 

Leo sighed and kept going. He passed the red room, with the stuffies and the big bed and the cool posters. He passed the orange room, with the crayons and the sparkling lights and the drawings on the walls. He pushed the curtain of the purple room to the side. 

It was just like his room. Messy, with a matching purple blanket and pillow. There were figures and toys on the shelves and walls. 

He looked up. 

But most importantly, there were the glow in the dark stars. Just like his. 

…They did it like that on purpose. When Donnie had said he wanted his own room, Leo had begged him not to. 

He didn't want Donnie to leave him.in that room alone. In the dark. With all his nightmares and his sleepless nights and the scary thoughts he had. 

He had begged his twin to stay, but Donnie insisted they were old enough for their own rooms. Leo had cried for hours. His twin didn't want him anymore, he didn’t want to match with him anymore. 

What was Leo supposed to do if he didn't have a twin? What was he supposed to do with all the empty space in his room. 

But Donnie had quietly come back to him and taken his hand. He'd led him to his new room and pointed up. 

Donnie had a matching set of glow in the dark stars with him now. 

“ I’m…I’m really scared, too,” Donnie whispered, lying back on the bed with him and staring up at the ceiling, “ but it will be okay. ‘Cause if you ever get scared you can look at your stars, okay?” 

Leo shook his head, “ but what if I'm really, really scared?”

Donnie thought for a second, “ then you can just come in here and we can look at them together.”

Leo sniffled and nodded, watching the stars through his tears, “ okay…” 

And so that's what he was doing now. 

Leo nudged Donnie awake, the softshell blinking at him blearily. 

“Leo, what's wron-”

Leo blinked awake. He was in the med bay. It was sterile white, just like after the invasion and for a moment a swell of panic grew in his chest. 

But there was no beep of the heart monitor, no quiet snoring as Dad watched over him. He sat up suddenly, and glanced around. No, he was completely alone. 

His leg ached a little, and when he glanced down there were some light bruises on his arms and wrists, but other than that he was..he was okay. 

He could hear voices just outside, talking quietly amongst themselves. It was a little weird they weren't in here with him. Last time he was in the med bay, he'd had a pretty steady stream of visitors.  

But he guessed it hadn't been that bad this time. 

He threw the blankets off and examined his leg. It was bandaged up nice and tight, and it only ached a little, so he must not have been on the real good stuff. Which was good, cause he didn't remember what happened anyway, and that stuff always made him so loopy. 

“ might as well greet the paparazzi,” Leo joked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting up. It hurt a little to put pressure on, but it didn't seem to be broken or sprained. Some sort of surface wound, then. 

He limped to the door, listening for a moment to see who was there. 

Mikey, Raph.. Maybe Donnie? And then Dad and ….ughhhh, Draxum. Why had they called him? 

Oh well, might as well get the lecture over with. The last thing he remembered was fighting in witch town, so he must have done something stupid to get himself hurt. Maybe cursed? Who knows. 

He slammed the door open with grin, getting a couple of shouts in surprise in return. 

“ morning, fam! You all aren't talking about me out here, are you?”

All five of them turned to look, blinking with wide eyes. 

“Leo, are you…? Do you remember us?” Raph asked, putting his hands up hesitantly, like Leo was a wild animal that could be spooked easily. 

And what the hell kind of question was that, anyway? 

“Uhhhh yeah? Did I like, hit my head or something? Cause I mean, I don't really feel the concussion, ya know?” He chuckled. Yeah, okay, these vibes were rancid. 

“ C'mon, what's the diagnosis, Dr. Dee?” he turned to look at Donnie, but his twin's expression struck something within him that made his entire body grow cold. 

Donnie was staring at him with wide glassy eyes, expression like someone had just told him Atomic Lass had exploded ( for real this time) in the most recent TV special. ( spoiler alert, she did. Donnie was not gonna be happy when he found out.) 

“ Woah, what's that look for? It-it can't have been that bad, right? I'm barely even sore-”

Donnie suddenly stepped forward and wrapped him in the second tightest hug Leo's ever felt from him. The first was when…well, Leo didn't wanna think about that right now. 

It was nice for a few seconds, Leo giving him a firm squeeze back, before starting to pull away. But Donnie didn't let go. 

“Dee? Hey, man, you're like wayyy past your 15 second hug rule time…” He chuckled. 

Donnie squeezed him tighter. 

“ You…you better not be lying..” He murmured, voice so quiet Leo almost didn't hear him. 

Leo frowned. 

He didn't like this. He didn’t like this at all. 

What had happened to him? 

And why couldn't he remember any of it?

----

We're gettin close to an ending :33 I was gonna write this as Donnie's POV but decided in the end that Leo would be more fun since the kinda just has been experiencing the memories as they go through them :/ Also side note: the reason he was able to see Donnie the last time was because Donnie had direct contact with him during the memory. so that's what that was about.

I'll probably do one or two more parts to this, we'll see how the cookie crumbles and all

Part 1 | Part 29 | Part 31

[tonyspank]

Tony....please make me an angsty-romantic, JO or JO character x Fem!Reader one shot! You decide who it fits more. With a good ending, please!

I'm currently listening to Waves by Calpurnia.... this song is so mesmerizing.

My request would be based on that, but it's okay if you don't want to do it!

Hope you are eating well, Thank you so much!

-🎸

HOLD ON

Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: “I don’t want to die.”

Warnings: Cancer, gunshot, blood, violence, and let me know if there’s anymore.

A/N: thank you so much for this request anon! i hope you enjoy, although im not very good at angst 💔

Jenna’s not famous in this & also! this was heavily inspired by jbs music video !!

1.7k words

$13,892, the minimum amount the doctors told you Jenna's treatment would be. $14,283, the amount you were quoted by a second hospital for the same treatment.

The problem? Jenna has no insurance.

Jenna has no insurance, and you have no money. You saw the look on your girlfriend's face when you were given these estimates, and you knew she practically gave up right then and there. You promised Jenna you would find a way to cover the cost, no matter what it took. But you have no idea where to begin.

That was three weeks ago.

Jenna was your best friend, your companion, and your girlfriend, and you can't bear to see her suffer without the treatment she needs. But with only two months until the deadline, you still have no idea how you'll ever be able to afford the medical attention she needs.

You sit on the floor of your bedroom, your back against your bed frame, and a hand covers your face. You take a deep breath, but it does little to soothe the tightness in your chest. You feel lost, helpless, and hopeless.

But you know one thing for sure: No matter what happens, you'll do anything and everything you can to help Jenna.

Jenna stirs in her sleep, awaking you from your thoughts. You quickly wipe away a tear before she opens her eyes. You know that you have to stay strong for her, no matter how overwhelmed you may feel.

When she opens her eyes and looks around, her gaze finally meets yours. Her smile is weak, and you can see the pain behind her eyes. She holds her hand out to you, and you quickly take it, kissing it softly and pressing her palm against your cheek.

"Good morning." She says, her voice raspy from lack of use.

"Hi." You reply, leaning forward and kissing her lips gently. Jenna's lips are cold and dry, a stark contrast to the warmth of her hand in yours. You try not to think about how much pain she's in.

"What are you doing sitting on the floor?" She asks you, her eyes searching yours for an answer. You smile softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I wanted to be closer to you." Jenna's eyes soften, and a small, grateful smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

But it soon fades away, replaced by a look of sadness. "You should get some sleep," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I know you've been up for hours."

You feel a lump form in your throat, knowing that she's trying to protect you even in her own pain. "I can't." You admit.

"I'm okay." She mutters, but you know she isn't. She can barely move her left arm. Her breathing is labored, and she's so pale, it's like she's lost all her color.

"You're not okay."

"No." She agrees, looking down at her hands. "But I will be. Please, Y/N, get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up." You finally relent, knowing that she's right. You lean in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead before climbing into the bed next to her.

"I'm scared." She admits it quietly.

"I am too." You tell her, pulling her close. "I promise I'll be here for you every step of the way," you whisper, feeling her body relax against yours. "We'll get through this together."

With those words, she closes her eyes, finding tranquility in your presence as you both drift off to sleep, holding onto each other tightly.

Your dreams have been the same for a few days, almost as if you were reliving your life with Jenna. The memories are always happy, and they help distract you from the reality of the situation.

You dream about the day you met her. It was on the late afternoon on a beach in Los Angeles, with the waves going back and the sun rising and falling. You were just wandering along the shore, looking at the scenery and the people.

She was sitting on a large rock, looking out over the ocean, her feet in the water, and the sand beneath her. You remember seeing her from a distance and being immediately drawn to her.

So, you walked towards her, not knowing what you were going to say, or what you were even going to do. "Can I help you?" She asked, turning her head and giving you a smile.

You felt a rush of nerves as you approached her; she was gorgeous, and her smile was captivating.

That wasn't the only day you spent together. Every weekend, you would meet on that beach. Sometimes, you would go out for dinner, and sometimes you would just spend the whole day together.

But now, it was hard for Jenna to leave the apartment, let alone walk on the beach.

You had been dating for three years, and now she was in your apartment, her illness was getting worse, and your money was running low. You were struggling to balance taking care of her and working long hours to pay for her medical bills.

Another week had passed. Jenna had gotten worse, the chemotherapy was taking a toll on her body, and the medical bills were piling up faster than you could keep up with.

You were barely making enough to cover her medication and hospital costs, and the stress was beginning to affect you. You had been working nonstop, barely getting any sleep, and you were starting to feel run down.

You were losing hope. The deadline was only a month away, and you had no idea how you would manage to come up with the money. You had tried everything, but nothing seemed to be working.

Jenna was fading away right in front of your eyes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You couldn't bear the thought of losing her. She was the love of your life—the one person who made you feel alive. She had been the only person to truly understand you, and the thought of losing her was like a dagger in your heart.

You were sitting in your garage , surrounded by all the tools and equipment you had collected over the years. Your eyes fell on an orange plastic gun sitting on a workbench, gathering dust. It was a toy gun that Jenna had given you as a joke, but now it could be the key to your plan.

You picked it up along with a can of black spray paint, determined to do whatever it took to save Jenna. You carefully painted the gun, and once it dried, you tucked it into your waistband.

Jenna's last words before she was admitted to the hospital echoed in your mind.

I don't want to die.

It was a cold, rainy night. You were dressed in all black, the orange toy gun was tucked into the pocket of your hoodie, and your motorcycle helmet was securely fastened under your arm. Your hands were shaking as you gripped the gun. You were nervous, and you knew the consequences of what you were about to do.

But you couldn't let fear stop you. Jenna's life was on the line, and you were willing to do whatever it took to save her, even if it meant risking everything. With a deep breath, you stepped toward the bank teller, sliding her a note demanding the money and making it clear that you were armed.

The teller looked at you in shock but quickly complied with your demands, giving you the money. You quickly stuffed it into a bag, keeping the plastic gun hidden in your pocket as you quickly walked toward the back exit where your bike was parked.

Suddenly, an alarm rang out , causing panic to erupt in the bank. The security guard sprang into action, blocking your path to the exit. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you shoved him into a nearby table and made a run for it, jumping onto your bike and speeding away as police sirens wailed behind you, knowing that you had to escape quickly before they caught up to you.

You weaved through traffic, trying your hardest to escape from the multiple police cars chasing after you, their sirens blaring. It was a dark and stormy night, and you were driving through the streets of the city, the rain pouring down heavily. Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Abruptly, a car pulled out in front of you, causing you to slam on the brakes. You looked around and realized you were surrounded by police cars with no way out. The officers approached with their guns drawn, ordering you to put your hands in the air.

Your hands stayed on the handles, the gun pressed against your leg, and a lump formed in your throat. There was no way out. You were trapped, and there was no way you would escape.

A shot rang out, causing you to flinch and close your eyes in fear. When you opened your eyes, there was blood seeping through your hoodie, and you felt a sharp pain in your side. You never really understood the meaning of flight or fight until that moment, but now it was clear - you had to fight for your life.

Your survival instincts kicked in, and you made a split-second decision to make a run for it, ignoring the pain and speeding past the officers. The sound of gunfire echoed in your ears as you accelerated towards the familiar streets you had taken nearly hundreds of times.

Your bike sputtered to a stop as you reached your destination, sirens getting closer and closer. You stumbled off the bike and ran through the hallways of the distinct building, clutching your bleeding side and pushing past startled onlookers.

You could see Jenna's room number at the end of the hallway, and you knew you had to reach her before it was too late. You burst into the room, and relief flooded your body when you saw her sleeping peacefully.

"Y/N?" She whispered, slowly opening her eyes. Her voice was weaker than ever, and her skin was pale.

You rushed to her side, tears streaming down your face as you laid your head on her shoulder. "I'm here, Jenna," you choked out, holding her hand tightly. "I love you."

Jenna weakly squeezed your hand, her head slowly turning to the doorway where the police stood, waiting to take you away. "I love you too," she said softly, her eyes filled with tears.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Maybe Simon Riley and famous reader?? Like the reader is a singer and dedicates a song to him and we get to see a sort of soft and proud side of him?

I had to actually go through my playlist to find the right vibe for this. Such a sweet request 🥹

Song on repeat while I wrote this is "Just the two of us" by Bill Withers and Grover Washington, Jr. Cover version by The Macarons Project. Listen to the gorgeous cover here

Pairing: Simon x famous!reader

pov: Simon's

Title: To my Love.

"Okay, Manchester, it's almost time for me to close out for the night!" Her voice rings out above the cheering of the stadium. People are chanting encore and begging for another song. She laughs into the microphone, "I love you all, but I most certainly promised someone that I would try and wrap up on time."

There's a shout from somewhere closer to the stage for just one more song, please. She relents with a soft laugh, "Fine, but I'm thinking a new song for the city that has my heart."

There's more cheering and backstage, Simon tilts his head to the side because he understands the double meaning. His girl is always saying in interviews and on hot mics that her heart is in Manchester, England. She's not even from here, and when people ask about her own hometown, her smiles turn shy and sweet. She never says what or who she means, choosing to keep their relationship private. It's for her safety and his peace at mind.

Sure, he doesn't do the award shows, the public facing red carpets, and he blends in as one of her body guards; but her inner circle knows who he is and sees the two of them behind closed doors. He's a little shocked at the mention of a new song. He knows every lyric that gets written down in the little song book he got for her.

She looks off stage towards him and bless the smile she gives him. It makes his stomach flip and flop, and he knows that he is smiling like a love struck fool. The corners of his eyes crinkle, and the surgical mask on his face shifts, a clear indication that he is smiling back. This woman makes him feel things he hasn't in years. She kisses his scars, holds his hand with a grin, and every time she says his name, it's like hearing an angel whisper to him. He's not a praying man, does not believe in God or karma, he's lived too bloody a life for those thoughts, so finding someone to love him was never a possibility.

Yet here she is getting ready to debut a new song that she just told him was written with only him in mind. No other hands have touched this song, and it was written for him, and she's singing it as a public declaration of her love for him. The sentiment makes him ache in the best ways, turns him into puddy.

"What is that girl doing?" Her manager hisses, "did we approve of this?" She's fussing with a stage hand demanding to know what track is about to be played. The DJ cues up the music. It's a sweet swell of music. Light on the ears, there's no producer tag, no booming base, or 808s. The flip from high energy to sweet melodies instantly calms the crowd to silence.

Yeah, this wasn't planned. It's in the same vein as their relationship, unplanned and sweet. Simon didn't mean to fall in love with her. It sorta just happened. What was supposed to be a favor for a friend of John's, just the team providing extra security for some starlet, turned into a miracle.

She sings about him, sweetly. A true love song. She sings about loving someone at their best. She sings about loving the ugliest parts of someone. She belts her heart out on the bridge, words about finding true love and knowing that it won't always be easy. Her voice cracks, warbling on lines about broken people and loving them and slowly putting them together again, pretty gold holding the pieces together.

By the time the song is over, the longest and shortest four minutes in his life. And to think, someone wrote about how they loved loving him for four minutes, him of all people, he's got tears in his eyes. His body is moving before he can process it. There are people calling for him to stay backstage. He thinks he hears one of his teammates, and he doesn't know or care. All Simon Riley can see is his girl, his song bird, the mask is off and he's pulling her into a kiss.

There's distant cheering he is sure of that. The audience probably thinks that this is staged. It's not. Her manager will probably try to spin some silly narrative to the press and all of her fans. Whoever is on lights earns their paycheck because every light except the spotlight on them goes out.

And then slowly even that light fades, too, to the sound of thunderous applause.

ngl...I'm crying. Thank you anon.

[oracle-of-dream]

Stress Relief

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been away on a business trip that's making you miserable. Wonwoo has just the thing to make you both feel better...

Warnings: Male reader, Business worker reader, Fluffy hair Wonwoo, Jerking off, Filming, Phone sex, Wonwoo is so perf

Wordcount: 1.2k

You let out a heavy sigh as you closed the door to your hotel room. Today was the worst.

You were out of town on a business trip for a few days, which was pretty normal. But the irritating part was that your boss was up your ass about the details, bearing down on every single little thing you messed up on.

You didn't greet the client right

You didn't offer them something to drink

You should've held the door for them

You didn’t offer your umbrella since it was raining (Letting you get soaked)

You could hear your boss' voice grating in your ears, dreading tomorrow as you did. But worst of all, you missed your boyfriend, Wonwoo. He's extremely self-sufficient, so he doesn't check in with you to see how you're doing until the end of the day when you call him. You knew he was trying to be respectful and not distract you while you worked, but maybe a little distraction was needed from the disaster of a day you had...

You changed into your pajamas as you called him.

"Hey, baby!" Wonwoo's deep voice rolled through the speaker.

"Woowie!" You cheered in a babyish voice, feeling the responsibility of being an adult lifted off your shoulders. Wonwoo always loved taking care of you and letting you do whatever you wanted, even if that meant you got a little spoiled because of it. He couldn't care less.

"How was your day?"

Your expression soured instantly as you thought about that day you'd had. "It was super bad! I hate it here!"

Wonwoo chuckled at you pouting. "Don't be like that. Go on and tell me all about it, I'm listening." There was some shuffling from Wonwoo, probably him getting into bed... You talked to him about your day, every detail your boss picked at you for–even critiquing your boss sometimes. Wonwoo silently listened to you, occasionally throwing in an "mhm" or a grunt to let you know he was still listening as you ranted. Some of them sounded more like moans, and you felt your cock twitch at hearing it. By the end, you'd tired yourself out and melted into the bed as Wonwoo spoke, "Jeez, baby, I'm sorry he gave you such a tough time."

"I know right!? He's so unbelievable." You heard another grunt from Wonwoo while you spoke, this one was more audible, making you trip on your words. "A-Are you alright?"

"Huh, no, yeah, I'm fine. It's just my game," Wonwoo assured you. "Please keep talking," His voice was a little hoarse this time and his tone was almost begging. You told him what you'd had for lunch and dinner, skipping over that you'd missed breakfast. "That sounds so good, baby," Wonwoo moaned.

You squirmed in the bed, turned on by the base of his voice. "I don't know what to talk about anymore... What game are you playing?"

Wonwoo was caught off guard by your question, strangely stumbling to answer. "It's–um, a new release. You wouldn't know it. Fuck..."

"Well tell me about it anyway, I know you like sharing." You listened closely as you could barely register him breathing heavily.

"Sharing. Right," your boyfriend's voice shook. "I-It's–um... A platformer, the ones where you need to jump from place," Wonwoo's voice caught in his throat.

"And?" You added.

Wonwoo whined, "More?"

"Yeah, keep telling me!" You closed your eyes as you listened to him closely, your hand sliding under your covers to rub your member.

"Well–it's just, I-I don't know..."

"Is the game hard?"

"It's so hard..."

"Well, I know you can do it. You're such a smart boy." Wonwoo groaned again, enjoying your praise. "Is the game long?"

"It's pretty long..."

"And are you going fast or slow?"

"...slow at first. Faster now."

"You think you can go faster?" You touched yourself to his words. Long strokes, starting slow but getting faster, squeezing your shaft hard.

"I-If you want me to."

"I like it fast," You say as a moan slips past your lips. You bite down on your tongue to stop more from coming out as you notice Wonwoo's gotten quiet. "Are you still there?"

"I-I'll be right back!" Wonwoo blurted out before hanging up. You blinked at your phone in shock. He hung up!? You immediately called him back but instantly got sent to voicemail. You sat in bed, stunned at him. Did you push him too far with the tease? You thought it was a weird cute mutual thing...

After a few minutes, you started getting ready for bed and turned off the lights. As you checked your messages, you had one from Wonwoo, with a video.

"Sorry I hung up, I was making this for you. You mentioned wanting a video like this a while back, but it was embarrassing."

You played the video. Wonwoo was wearing his glasses and a plain white shirt, at his desk in his office at home. He awkwardly looked at the camera as he set his phone down and answered your phone call from before. You could hear your voice from the phone, but your eyes were glued to Wonwoo as he stared into the camera. Slowly, to make as little noise as possible, he lifted his shirt to his lips and held it with his teeth, showing his abs. Then he slid down his pants just enough for his cock to pop out. He started pinching his nipples and jerking off to you as he listened to you. His face was pink, his nipples hard, and his dick leaked in the prettiest way. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he stroked faster and harder, right when you asked about his game. When you called him "smart boy" he almost fell out of his chair, ripping his hands off his cock so he didn't finish.

He didn't stop for long.

Hand now attached to his cock again, "It's pretty long." Wonwoo's strokes moved his full length. "...Slow at first, faster now." Wonwoo's hand worked himself over so fast his body started shaking. You could hear the slight sound of his hand with precum around his member.

His body glistened, his shirt stretched as he tried not to moan louder, and his hair stuck to his forehead as sweat dripped onto his stomach. When you asked him to go faster, Wonwoo's fucked out expression as he looked at the camera told you everything. He was gonna blow.

"I-I'll be right back!" He blurted out. As soon as he hung up, he stood so his cock was above the table and finished. His cock shot ropes, making a mess of the table, his phone, and even shooting onto the camera lens. Through the blurry video, you saw Wonwoo collapse into the chair as he tried to catch his breath. "I... love you, baby," He whispered as he wiped the lens clean, giving you an up-close look at him. "Come home soon, I miss you." He smiled goofily and turned off the camera, ending the video.

You texted immediately, "Wonwoo!?"

"Yeah?"

"This was so fucking hot. I need another."

"I tried recording it on my own. But it was so hard to cum, without hearing you..." You imagined Wonwoo's expression when he texted that, probably covering his face in embarrassment.

"When I get home, we're fucking. End of story."

"Okay, babe."

You watched the video again, jerking off until you were satisfied. As you drifted off to sleep, you wondered how you could repay him...

[kishdoodles]

The Strokes mspaint Collection Part 1/? is done! It's of notable songs from Is This It, and while it's not every song I wanted to get to (I'm eyeing Someday and Trying Your Luck) I'm pretty happy moving on for now :)

Thoughts on each piece under the cut!

Is This It:

Before any other song in the album, I knew I liked this one. A lot of folk hyped Is This It as THE Strokes album and while pre-2020 I could see why, when I first listened to it I really didn't get it. Now with my frankly ludicrous amount of Strokes lore knowledge I've gotten quite the fondness for this album, especially as their debut. I wanted this piece to carry that sense of initial camaraderie the band had, while also sort of foreshadowing both the direction of the band and reflecting what the song's about.

On the surface I wanted a fun way to incorporate the spirit of both the original album art and alt art into a piece. Julian's the way he is here because 1) the general attitude of the song Is This It he affects, 2) at the end of the day he's still the most focused on as the frontman. While they want to think they're all equals in this there is still the sense that everyone's still sort of following him?

The rest I didn't put in that much thought. Albert is directly behind Julian because. They were roommates. But you could argue Nikolai was closer, but hey, turned out the way it did. For me there's a sense that Albert, while not exactly in Julian's shadow, chases the fame and regard Julian has, even til now. In that sense he's wrapped the closest. That's simultaneously also how I feel about why Albert doesn't exactly have bands like his bandmates in solo work, but I digress. He's really only a small part here 😭😭😭

Nick and Fab and Nikolai are really just chilling. I think it's fun to have friends sitting around, smoking, drinking, as they did in the old days. I like to think this is backstage, after a performance. That's really all there is to the rest of this piece. Fun to do overall!

Hard To Explain:

For a piece with as much drive as this song had I wanted something that encapsulated the theme the MV brought of forward momentum, and constant buzz. In that way vehicles were put into play. Travel really played a big part in how The Strokes got where they are now, be it the initial touring around different cities and states, or their big trip and tour to the UK that brought them their initial international hype.

Again, another composition with Julian still as the conductor of this train, but I added nods like Nikolai looking at Albert, Fab recording (hearkening back to In Transit) (Even though in hindsight Nick should be recording) and Nick commenting on it. I still want that sense of how everyone still looks out for each other in the midst of their first craze.

Stars outside the window's another callback to the alt album cover, and the arrows on Hard To Explain is a reference to the clip of arrows originating out of Singapore in the MV (yes I'm biased!) The arrows coming out of Julian is in reference to how he was the link to a lot of them meeting each other (Julian and Albert meeting, Julian and Nikolai's bestie status, Julian and Nick meeting in school etc. I think Fab met him through Nick though) and how, again, they're really following him at this point, especially since he has sole songwriting credit for Is This It.

The Modern Age:

Short and sweet, this is in reference to the music video. The base of the mic stand is in reference to their first EP of the same name. Fun!

This song's here because it really did make the appeal of them as a live band click for me (which is funny since it's a year after I Actually saw them live). Like yea, these guys were here to blast your socks off in a live setting and here to bring good ass music to the people. I did a sort of POV of someone in front row, not really looking at them, just jamming. Nick's pose was one he struck during one of his solos I think, thought it was cute. I like how obvious Albert is from his shoes. I really do believe he owns 19 pairs of shoes back then.

Overall colours, addition of the red is thanks to the EP. That's about it!

Last Nite:

Here's a disclaimer - I don't really care about this song in particular. But I think it's a little too iconic to their phenomenon to leave out.

I'm not part of the generation that catches The Strokes on MTV or any TV or anything, just part of the one that found them through the internet and fell in love. In that sense I kind of did a monitor of dubious origin. Whether it's TV or PC Monitor, I don't know, I just drew a screen.

Rest of the scene is dark to literally be night. A beer bottle I drew in because I found it cute how Julian in the video drank, and probably the folk watching were too. I drew a speaker behind it, but I don't think that's immediately obvious... But it's more to reference all the accounts of people in Meet Me In The Bathroom (the book) about how they played The Strokes on their speakers, and just enjoyed the music.

I could've reproduced any scene from the MV, but I got drawn to the initial start of it. Of when the lights on stage were just slowly coming on but the band itself isn't lit yet. It's fun anticipation, and it sorta fits the mood here.

So yea shoutout The Strokes for giving me shit to watch and jam to even after 20+ years of existing. What an awesome band

[reiderwriter]

hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3

Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕

Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:

It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to. 

“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.” 

“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger. 

“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in. 

“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.” 

“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day. 

You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself. 

“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation. 

It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope. 

But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong. 

“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger. 

The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol. 

Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions. 

Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there. 

“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.

“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.” 

“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him. 

“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted. 

His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in. 

He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away. 

He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care, 

He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky. 

“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow. 

“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion. 

Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever. 

He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core. 

Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality. 

Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper. 

He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit. 

He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower. 

It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes. 

You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that. 

Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you. 

You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one. 

“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth. 

When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid. 

You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you. 

“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right. 

And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god. 

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three

I'm the most impatient person I know, so here's another!

Warnings: reader smoking cigarettes, just more case stuff, and as usual their bickering (but also moments of...non-bickering? gasp?)

Morgan finds you outside the precinct, pacing.

“Hey,” he says. “We’re going to get lunch and stop at the school, come on.”

You stop pacing. “Fine. Can we make a pit stop?” You follow Morgan over to the car, yanking the door open.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Where?”

“Just a gas station,” you reply, pulling yourself into the passenger seat. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

“Uh-uh, woah,” Morgan turns his body toward you. “Since when do you smoke?”

“On and off,” you shrug. “When I’m stressed. Can we go?”

“Yeah.” Morgan turns the key in the ignition. “But cigarettes are the last stop.”

“That’s fine,” you say, trying hard to sound nonchalant, even though you know Morgan sees right through you.

Still, he says nothing, and heads toward Lila’s school.

“Marie’s mom is on the way to the school to pick her up,” Morgan says. “And to be there while we talk to her.”

“Alright,” you reply. “I don’t think Marie knew what was happening.”

“I don’t think she did, but I don’t think she’d say if she did either,” Morgan says, “but I’m hoping something about her behavior will tell us what she doesn’t say.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to talk to her without her mom present?” you suggest. “I mean, at that age, I probably wouldn’t say anything if my mom was in the room.”

“It’s not likely, but we can ask,” Morgan says. “Sometimes the parents surprise us.”

“I don’t think I want any surprises,” you say. “I just want Lila to be home safe.”

“She will be,” Morgan says. “We’ll get her home.”

“I need that optimism,” you tease. “Got any to spare?”

“I have plenty to go around, believe me.”

+++

The middle school freaks you out. It’s so small.

“I haven’t been in a school since I was…in school,” you murmur. “Is it just me, or are the ceilings really low?”

Morgan looks up and laughs. “It’s just you. Come on.”

The two of you flash your badges and the school secretary takes you right in to see the vice principal. The principal is out of town, so not only is the VP doing two jobs, but now she has a missing kid. You introduce yourselves to the frantic, yet somehow collected administrator.

“Thanks so much for letting us come as well,” you say, shaking her hand. “I understand our colleagues, Agent Hotchner and Prentiss, were already here.”

“Yes, very brooding, that man,” she says. “I’m Mrs. Henry, I have our SRO doing another sweep of the campus to see if Lila might be hiding anywhere.”

“I don’t think she’s hiding, Mrs. Henry,” you say.

“But we appreciate the effort,” Morgan adds. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes, exactly,” you agree, covering up your quick mouth. It really will get you in deep shit one of these days. “Is Marie Laud here yet?”

“She’s in the counselor’s office,” Mrs. Henry says. “Her mother is on her way, but I can take you to her.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“And do you mind if I ask you some questions while Agent L/N speaks to Marie?” Morgan says.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Henry shakes her head, grabbing her radio. “Right this way.”

The counselor’s office is just around the corner, and you spot Marie instantly. She’s doing homework by the looks of it, and the counselor is next to her, simply typing on her laptop. Marie doesn’t look closed off, but she’s also not an open book — that much can be told from her willingness to do homework instead of talk.

You observe her from a distance for a while longer, listening to Morgan’s questions.

“Is every door locked at all times in this building?”

“Well, yes, but anyone inside can open them. It would be a fire hazard if no one could get out.”

“I understand,” Morgan nods. “We just want to cover every base. Now, you’re positive she was present this morning?”

“I’ve spoken to the teacher personally, as well as Marie, and yes, Lila was here.”

You turn your head. “Marie is in Lila’s first period?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Henry nods. “They have almost every class together. Their fifth periods are different, but that’s all.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly. “I’m gonna try to talk to her.”

Waiting for Marie’s mom might be the smart thing to do, but you can deal with the mom’s anger later. You worry that Marie will feel judged or like she’s in trouble if her mom is around, especially if she knows something about Lila’s disappearance. 

You walk into the counselor’s office with a warm smile, introducing yourself to the counselor, Ms. Blackwell. 

“Is it alright if I sit?” you ask.

Ms. Blackwell nods. “Of course, go right ahead.” 

Marie’s eyes are glued to her homework, but you see her attempt to look at you through the very top of her peripheral vision.

“Algebra?” you ask. “You’re better at it than I am.” She is blasting through each question. You don’t even know if they’re right, but it looks like they must be. She seems confident. “Is that what class you’re supposed to be in right now?”

It’s tiny, but Marie does nod. She doesn’t look up, but she says, “Me and Lila have it together.”

“Oh, I see,” you murmur. “Did you see Lila this morning?”

Another nod. “Yeah, in homeroom.” Marie pauses, looks up. “That’s first period.”

You chuckle. “I had a homeroom, too.”

Marie looks back at her worksheet. “She just told me she had to go to the bathroom.”

“What was that?” you ask.

The counselor looks dumbfounded. Clearly you’ve gotten more out of Marie than Ms. Blackwell has this entire time.

“Lila said she had to pee,” Marie says again. “We were about to go to second period, but she had to pee. I didn’t wanna be late, so I went to class. She said she’d be there.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Was she really eager to leave? Did it seem urgent?”

Marie nods, looking at you weirdly. “Yeah. I thought she just had to pee really bad or got her period or something.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. “Was she texting anyone?”

“I mean, she had her phone in her hand, but I dunno if she was texting anyone. We usually text in class,” Marie glances guiltily at the counselor.

“I used to pass notes in class, old fashioned texting,” you chuckle. “Did Lila say anything else that was maybe really weird or just something else you remember?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Marie shrugs. “Her book bag looked bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Yeah, like she had a lot of stuff in it. She usually only has one notebook and her planner, but it was like. Big.”

“Huh,” you comment. “That is odd.”

“Right?” Marie says, looking back at her math. “I asked her why and she said she just felt like bringing her lunch today. It was weird.”

“Does she not normally bring her lunch?”

“Nah, we get the salads in the cafeteria,” Marie says. She tries to solve a math problem, then stops, and looks back up at you. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I hope so,” you murmur. “Hey, if you think of anything, here’s my number.” You hand your card to her. “You can text or call me, any time.”

“Thanks,” Marie says, smiling a little. “Oh, there’s my mom.”

You turn and see Mrs. Laud coming toward you, so you stand. “Mrs. Laud, I’m Agent L/N.”

“Hi,” she says. “Did you speak to Marie?”

“We just finished,” you smile. “I apologize for not waiting for you, but every minute counts.”

“Oh, yes, I understand, that’s no problem,” Mrs. Laud replies, surprising you. You’ll have to tell Morgan. “Is Lila going to be okay? Her mom is so distraught; I just got off the phone with her again.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” you assure her. “My partner and I need to get back, but if you think of anything that might help us,” you hand Mrs. Laud your card, “please, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Of course,” you reply. “Excuse me.”

You head back outside in the hall where Morgan stands, listening to the vice principal ramble. You’re not sure if she’s said anything helpful, but Morgan looks ready to go when he sees you.

Once you’re back in the car, you tell Morgan everything that Marie had to say.

“So she had a bag packed,” Morgan says, coming to the same conclusion as you did. “I wonder if her mom noticed. I feel like you’d notice if your kid suddenly took a lot more with her to school than usual.”

“Lila could’ve had the clothes in her locker,” you suggest. “I don’t think it matters much if the mom noticed or not. The point is, she clearly had a plan.”

“You’re right,” Morgan nods. “We should get lunch and head back. You can call Hotch in the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Morgan chuckles. “If y’all are gonna work together, you need to work your shit out.”

“Derek, you have no idea how impossible that is.”

+++

Admittedly, Hotch is shocked to see your name come up on his phone. It still flashes with your old workplace; he needs to change that to BAU. As well as your photo. It’s one he took ten years ago when you first put your number in his contact list. You were glaring at him then, the same way you do now.

“Hello?” Hotch answers, half expecting Morgan’s voice, but he gets yours.

“Hi.” You don’t sound too happy at all to be the one calling him. Hotch wonders if you know the feeling is mutual. “We spoke with Lila’s best friend. Marie said Lila left in a hurry. Said she had to use the bathroom, but Marie didn’t want to be late for class, so she went ahead, thinking Lila would catch up.”

“Did Marie say what time? That must be when Lila left school.”

“Right before second period,” you reply, then add, “which puts it around 9am. The teacher must’ve called roll as soon as the bell rang.” 

“Alright,” Hotch sighs. Unfortunately, this doesn’t tell them much that they didn’t already know, but he supposes confirmation is better than nothing. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Morgan’s voice comes through. “I spoke with the vice principal. She said every door is open for safety reasons. Lila could’ve walked out any of the doors and no one would know. None of them have alarms.”

“And not all of them have cameras,” Hotch fills in. “Garcia has run into a wall. None of the footage shows Lila leaving. We only have her entering school that morning. JJ is going over it with Garcia right now to study her behavior.”

“It’s not looking good, Hotch,” Morgan says.

“I know,” Hotch replies. “Grab lunch and get back here. We need to find her.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you sing.

Hotch sighs deeply, ending the call without a goodbye.

Rossi looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Hotch asks.

Rossi only shakes his head, looking back at the file he has in his hands. “Nothing.”

+++

“Did you hear that?” Morgan taunts. “Lunch, and high tail it back. No cigarettes, sorry honey.”

“I’ll get some tonight,” you mock him. “I’ll need one to calm me down enough to sleep, anyway.”

“I’m gonna lock you in your room,” Morgan says, turning into a random drive-thru. He sounds a little too serious.

“I’ll jump out the window,” you grin. “Now shut up and order.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Seven hamburgers and fries later, you and Morgan are headed back to the precinct to deliver food.

“Food has arrived,” you announce as you walk into the conference room. “What’s the verdict, boss?” You toss Hotch a hamburger, surprised that he catches it so easily.

He scowls at you, unwrapping it to find you remembered exactly what he likes. Or Morgan did. Probably Morgan.

“Don’t tell me he messed it up,” you groan, seeing Hotch’s frown. He’s grumpier than usual if his food isn’t right, and you have more important things to argue with him about than his damn food. “I gave Morgan every detail. Did you say it wrong?” You take a fry from Morgan’s share out of spite.

“No, it’s right,” Hotch says, still shocked that you remembered and didn’t purposefully order incorrectly just to irritate him. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” you nod, grabbing yours and tossing Spencer his (plain, only ketchup). “How’s the chatroom, Dr. Reid?”

“Interesting, actually, I’ve been comparing Rich’s messages with other texts that we have from a few years ago, and they’re not the same person — unless he’s changed drastically since being in hiding, but I doubt that. People can change how they speak, but not that much, look at this,” Reid forgets all about his food and slides two papers over to you. “See how he talks to Lila here? He lets her think she has made the plans, but that’s not at all how Richard talks; he’s too dominating, and—”

“Kid, kid,” Morgan interrupts. “Eat something, then continue. You need fuel if you’re going to run that fast.”

Puzzled, Reid says, “I’m not running.”

Morgan and Emily laugh, shaking their heads.

“Metaphorically,” Rossi says. 

You nod, pushing his food closer. “Eat up. Then you can run it by me.”

“Oh,” Reid says. “Right, right, that makes sense.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “Where’s the footage of Lila entering the school?”

“Here,” Hotch says, taking the seat next to you and turning the laptop around toward you. He presses the spacebar and it begins playing.

Lila walked into school, clearly struggling with the weight of her book bag. She looked around, almost paranoid, but then she saw Marie and went right to her. They hugged, talked, put their book bags down as they waited for the bell to ring. It looks normal.

Three minutes later, the bell rang, and the two girls went to class.

Hotch presses the spacebar again, stopping the footage. “That’s it.”

“Damn,” you mutter, swallowing your last bite. You reach over and reverse it, starting the video from the beginning again. “She must’ve had more than clothes in that bag. Look. She can hardly get it up on her shoulders. She’s looking around, social anxiety, maybe? I was the same until I found my friends, like she does when she finds Marie. Then she’s fine. They’re talking, laughing. Marie points to the book bag,” you pause, watching, “but Lila shrugs.”

“We’ve already been over this,” Hotch says. “While you were out with Morgan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you wave Hotch and his attitude away. “I know. Fresh eyes, isn’t that what you preach?”

Hotch glares at you, but leaves you alone. He stands and walks to the board where pictures of Lila, Richard Monroe, and Lila’s mother are posted. Rossi joins him, the two having some sort of silent back and forth.

Nothing about Lila’s behavior seems overly concerning to you, and that is what worries you.

“Reid, how does Lila sound in the chat room?”

“Calm,” Reid says around a mouthful of fries. “She trusts this Rich person, and clearly thinks it’s her father.”

“Does he ever say that he is?”

“Not exactly,” Reid replies. “He says so in a roundabout way, but not explicitly.“

“So, it’s not Richard Monroe,” you conclude, much to Hotch’s displeasure, which he makes known by his glare. “Can I see the messages?”

Reid hands you the papers, and you tell him to finish his food while you look at them. The kid needs to slow down and eat sometimes.

JJ’s phone rings and she sighs. “More press. Gotta get this.”

“Tell them we have no comment right now,” Hotch says.

JJ only nods, putting on her facade to speak to the reporters.

“They want us to make a statement, don’t they?” Emily asks, and Morgan scoffs, knowing how the media can be.

Hotch nods. “This is going to get out of hand if we don’t find her. Quickly.”

+++

Hotch sends everybody to their respective hotel rooms for a minimum of seven hours of sleep. That is, if anyone falls asleep as soon as they set foot in the door. Otherwise, it’s looking more like five or six hours.

For you, maybe four.

You take a walk next door to the gas station, grabbing a pack of cigarettes against Morgan’s better wishes. He’s not here to stop you, and he’s probably snoring by now anyway.

Besides, you need something if you’re going to make it through a case like this.

Why did this have to be your first with the BAU? Couldn’t you get something lighter? A regular, run of the mill serial killer?

Now you have to deal with memories resurfacing, and hiding that from the rest of the team, who is probably profiling you every second they can just because you’re new. Or at least Hotch is. He’s never stopped profiling you. You wonder if it’s exhausting for him. 

You ponder the thought, and many others, as you step out onto the balcony from your hotel room.

Hotch… He really hasn’t changed. You think you have, but then again, a lot has happened to you in the past ten years. 

A lot has happened to him, apparently, too. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring anymore.

Not that that’s any of your business, but you noticed. You thought he and his wife were happy when you first met him. High school sweethearts, too. It seemed blissfully perfect. Must not have been true.

Whether or not he’s broken up about it, you can’t tell. He’s always had that damn frown on his face, even back when he was (allegedly) a happy husband. 

You scoff as you bring out your lighter. He’s a mystery. An annoying bastard, sure, but mostly a mystery.

The first inhale after a long time is the hardest, yet the most relieving, too. You can practically feel your shoulders drop in relaxation, something they haven’t done in a while.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“JESUS fucking Christ,” you shout, dropping your cigarette and stepping on it by accident. Thank god you put on shoes, or else that would’ve burned like a bitch. You turn your head toward Hotch’s voice, finding him sitting on the balcony next door, his feet propped on the little table. He’s without his jacket and tie now, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned three down. “Seriously?”

“What?” he replies, looking straight ahead, out at the horizon, not at you. “It’s bad for your lungs. Don’t you have asthma?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter, annoyed that he remembered. It only acts up when you do smoke, but that’s not his business. You light another and take an even longer drag. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same as you,” he says, threading his fingers together over his lap. “Sans cigarettes.”

“I’ll give one up if you’d like,” you say, knowing he won’t take it.

He doesn’t budge. “No, thank you.”

As weird as it sounds, this might be the nicest conversation the two of you have ever had.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, taking another drag. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he says. “I probably won’t until we find this girl.”

“You used to sleep.”

He turns his head toward you. The moonlight highlights his features. His cheekbones, his nose. “Pardon?”

“You used to be able to sleep,” you repeat. “At least for a few hours. Did you develop insomnia while I was gone?”

“No,” he deadpans, turning to look straight ahead again. “What about you?”

“Sometimes I just don’t sleep,” you shrug. It’s not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie, either. You would be sleeping right now if it weren’t for the nature of this case. If it weren’t so close to the hell of a childhood you lived through.

“Will you be able to work tomorrow?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Yes, Agent Hotchner,” you scoff. “I’ll be able to work tomorrow. Will you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he echoes, taking his feet down and standing. “Get some sleep.”

You roll your eyes. “Good night.”

He disappears into his room and closes the curtains. You blow smoke in his direction anyway, watching it cloud your view of his room.