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nadvs · 1 month ago

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wish you’d ask me (one-shot)

pairing zach maclaren x female reader

summary you and your friend zach are on your way to a weekend retreat when suddenly, you wake up in the hospital with a concussion. zach is relieved you’re okay, until he realizes that you’re under the impression that he’s your boyfriend.

tags plot-flip of ‘the other zoey’ where reader loses her memory. college setting. friends to lovers. mutual pining. mentioned song is ‘red love’ by dream ivory (zach gives indie soft boy yfm). angst and fluff. no smut. hugs to my zach girlies @juniebugg & @nemesyaaa <3 divider credit.

» masterlist

››› friday

“Uh oh,” you mumble.

“What is it?” Zach asks. His gaze is fixed ahead, the snowy road a stretch of glittering white under the afternoon sun. You bring your phone up closer to your face.

“Chase just texted the group,” you explain. “Apparently, the furnace broke.”

“Uh oh,” he echoes.

“Exactly,” you say with a defeated laugh. “What now? Do we cancel? We can’t be out there all weekend with no heat.”

Zach checks the time on his dashboard to see you have thirty minutes left of the drive to the cabin you rented with your friends. The four of them are already there, waiting for you two.

“Nevermind,” you say. “Esha texted. The only thing broken is Chase’s sense of humor. I’m this close to throwing him outside and locking the door.”

You hold up your hand in a pinching motion.

“And she used this emoji,” you explain with a giggle.

Zach’s eyes drift to you, an endeared smile pulling on his lips.

“Appreciate the demonstration,” he says.

He reaches a red light and forces himself not to stare at you. He’s afraid that one day, his feelings for you will refuse to stay stuck in his heart and he’ll just blurt them out.

The past hour in the car with you has been a dream. Really, any time he spends with you is a dream. You’re usually all together as a group, so he cherishes the rare moments he gets to be alone with you.

He knows admitting his feelings to you comes with the risk of losing your friendship and fracturing the bond you both have in the group. But sometimes, it’s like keeping them in actually physically hurts.

“What’s your favorite emoji?” you ask. “No, wait.” You think back to the texts you’ve exchanged over the many months you’ve been friends. “I already know. It’s the guy running. Your version of saying on my way.”

“It’s efficient,” he replies with a shrug.

“Okay, so, what’s your second favorite emoji?” you say.

Zach laughs heartily and says, “You never run out of questions.”

“Do you mean that in a ‘you’re so much fun’ way,” you ask, “or in a ‘I’m too nice to say it, but shut up’ way?”

“Please don’t shut up,” he says in a rush. “You’re keeping me entertained.”

“It’s the least I can do after you stayed back for me.”

You were the only person in your friend group who had a class you couldn’t miss today. Zach offered to leave for the cabin with you, saying he had an important essay he wanted to finish this morning anyway, while everyone else drove up last night.

He had already finished that essay two days ago.

“It was no problem,” he replies. He means it. Nothing is too difficult for him if it’s for you.

“I’ll still pay you back,” you say. You stifle a yawn, fighting off the fatigue that’s been melting into you for the past hour. “What can I get you? What do you want most in the world?”

Zach chews on his bottom lip, pretending to think, when really, what he wants most in the world is sitting in his passenger seat, the prettiest and kindest girl he’s ever known, her gaze burning into him in his peripheral vision.

“A life-changing cup of hot cocoa,” he replies.

“Big ask, but you got it,” you agree with a laugh. “You can enjoy it in your grandpa pj’s.”

Zach smirks. A few nights ago, on a group video call, you amusedly pointed out the plaid button-up he was wearing in bed.

“They’re comfortable,” he counters.

“They’re still pajamas an old man would wear,” you tease. Your phone buzzes in your lap. “It’s Chase. Esha ruined my prank. Scaring us that we’ll freeze? What kind of prank is that?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Zach laughs.

The six of you met back when you were put together for a group project. You all got along so well that you started hanging out outside of class. Zach has grown to deeply care for everyone in the group. You, especially.

“I’ve been playing my music this whole ride,” you realize. “It’s only fair that you get to choose the songs for the last stretch.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re a good dj.”

“For once in your life, stop being so nice and just play what you want,” you tease. “Since your phone is the GPS, we can keep using mine. Do you have any public playlists?”

He scratches his cheek, nerves filling his chest.

“You’ll make fun of me,” he says.

“Zachary,” you gasp. “When have I ever made fun of you?”

“Like, a minute ago.”

“Other than that.”

“Five minutes ago?”

You laugh again and Zach swears it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Nicer than any song either of you could put on.

“My music is either workout stuff or just… sappy,” he admits.

“I’d expect nothing less,” you respond with a chuckle. “No pressure, but I promise, I won’t judge.”

He breathes a laugh and tells you his username, praying he can keep a straight face if the songs he listens to when he’s thinking about you play.

You tap on the playlist he titled ‘Relaxing’ and sink back in your seat as you gaze out the window. The glass is a little fogged, the world looking like it was dusted with powdered sugar.

The gentle guitar spills out of the speakers as your eyes travel over snow-covered peaks of evergreens that line the road.

Your heart pulls once you hear the song’s first lines, curious if Zach relates to them.

I’m the type of guy, trying not to fight

Not so perfect but I always try to bring the light

He’s easygoing and optimistic – that much is true. But not so perfect? If you had the chance, you’d tell him how perfect he is, over and over again.

Your eyes slowly flutter shut, lulled by the melody. You tell yourself not to daydream about the man sitting next to you when you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same way you do, but it’s easier said than done.

You can’t help it. The longer you’re Zach’s friend, the more you have to yearn for. You’re convinced he has the purest heart you’ve ever known.

But through the conversations you’ve had with your friends about your love lives, you’ve learned that Zach is a romantic, never nervous to pursue a girl he likes. And if he liked you, you’re sure he’d have told you by now.

When you swore Esha and Maggie to secrecy regarding your crush on him, they were confident he feels the same way. You still aren’t.

I don’t wanna feel insecure about a thing

But she makes me feel like I don’t even know what’s happening

Pull me closer and it’s like I forget what was wrong

The thought of pulling Zach closer, of making his insecurities and problems go away makes your stomach twist with warmth.

And then, you’re lying in bed with him, cocooned in a fluffy duvet, your hand on his cheek as you gaze at him. Your heart is full, the air buzzing with love. He worryingly asks you if you slept enough. You nod and he tells you how beautiful you are and you press your lips on his.

Sudden stillness stirs you awake. You meet his sweet blue eyes.

Oh. You fell asleep. And you had a dream about Zach so tender that your heart is still racing, your lips tingling from the kisses he never even gave you.

“Did we make it?” you murmur, tumbling back into reality, grounding yourself in the fact that you’re in a parked car, not a cozy bed.

“Not yet,” Zach says. “I wanted to make a quick stop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You look through the windshield to see a convenience store sign, the bottom skirted in translucent icicles.

“It’s okay,” you stutter, unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”

Cold air pricks your cheeks when you step out of the car. Even though Zach has no idea what your subconscious just threw you into, it’s embarrassing to be around him after such an romantic dream.

You round the car and approach the front door, which Zach is holding open for you. In your daze, you realize you forgot your wallet.

“My wallet,” you say in a hush, turning back.

“I’ll cover it,” Zach offers.

But you’re already scurrying to the car. And then, you lose your balance.

.❅❅❅.

The weight in Zach’s stomach is catastrophically heavy.

You’ve been in a confused daze since your fall. And he’s worried sick.

He stands next to you as you sit in bed, blinking slowly. Since he helped pick you up off the icy concrete and drove you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been slowly coming to your senses.

The doctor comes in and asks a few questions. You get the first few right – your full name, your date of birth, your major, your address. All said confidently, even through the fog blocking your mind.

That’s a relief.

But then, you’re not sure what day of the week it is. You can’t tell her what you had for breakfast. And, most confusing of all, when the doctor asks if you know who he is, you say, “Zach. My boyfriend.”

He swallows hard, the word fluttering in his mind. Boyfriend?

The doctor runs a few tests, checking your coordination and reflexes, then offers a sympathetic grimace.

“You have a mild concussion. You’re not showing any serious signs I’m concerned about, but we should do a CT scan just in case.” The doctor looks to Zach. “Can you come with me to help book it?”

He nods, giving you one more worried glance before he trails the doctor out of the room.

After he tucks the appointment card in his wallet, he listens to the doctor’s instructions. Rest. Hydrate. Reduce stress. No screens. Come back if symptoms worsen.

“What if she’s remembering things wrong?” Zach asks. “I… uh, I’m not her boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Her memory will likely come back to her in pieces,” the doctor reassures. “It’s normal that things are jumbled. She’ll be fragile for a bit.”

“What do I do? Is it best for her healing if I play along?”

“The less stress on her brain, the better,” she says. “You can calmly tell her what she has wrong or let her believe the minor, harmless things until she’s herself again. I’m sure she’ll be better soon and you won’t even have to correct her.”

Zach’s chest strains in anxiety, worried that he’ll mess something up. The last thing he wants to do is impede your healing by stressing you out.

When he comes back into the room, your eyes light up in a way they never have for him before. He tries not to let it get to him.

“Hey,” you say lazily, gazing at him with adoration. “Is it booked? Can we go now? We’re so late.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he says softly. “You’re injured.”

You giggle, stretching your arm out. Hesitatingly, Zach steps closer, letting you warmly hold his hand atop the thin blanket. He feels guilty for enjoying it.

“Did you tell them what happened?” you ask.

“Yeah, I – uh, I…” He begins to stammer as you gently run your fingers over his knuckles. “I should update them, actually.”

He pulls away abruptly, taking his phone out, brows furrowed. A simple touch from you is overwhelming enough, let alone when you’re only doing it because you’re concussed and confused.

You watch him text, his expression tense. He’s always like this, so worried about you. You think back to a few days ago, when he was concerned you didn’t get enough sleep as you lazed in bed together.

“Relax,” you say gently. “She said it was mild, right?”

“Yeah.” Zach keeps his eyes on the screen, unsure of how to tell your friends you’re under the impression you’re dating. “You just need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal soon.”

.❅❅❅.

You catch up on the group texts you missed after your fall when you settle in Zach’s car. You’re reading the last message, which is Esha saying something about seeing you soon when Zach turns on the engine.

You can’t quite make out the words. Then you realize Zach’s been trying to talk to you.

“What?” you say.

“You shouldn’t look at a screen,” he says gently.

“Right.” You lower your phone. “I can barely read right now anyway.”

“Can you put your seatbelt on?”

“Yes.” You turn, the motion suddenly making you dizzy. Your eyes pinch shut and you hold your head with a pained sigh.

Zach has never been more upset at himself. He’s supposed to be taking care of you. The doctor called you fragile. He’s already messing up.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

He leans over, pulling your seatbelt into the buckle. You keep your eyes shut, feeling his forehead brush against your cheek, enjoying the warm, rich fragrance that’s so Zach.

You might not remember everything, but you remember how much you love the way he smells.

“Thanks, baby,” you murmur and plant a kiss on his temple.

Zach’s stomach goes wild with butterflies. Heavy guilt sets in again. He can’t go on like this. It feels wrong to play along.

He pulls back and you look at him past heavy lids.

“We should talk,” he says, “about our friendship.”

He has no idea how to navigate this conversation. The doctor said to correct you calmly. There’s nothing calm about the way his heart is pounding right now.

“We haven’t told them, have we?” you ask. “I can’t remember ever acting like a couple around them. Is that what you mean?”

You think he’s talking about your friendships with the group waiting at the cabin.

This might be the best way to do this.

He’ll let you believe that you’re keeping your relationship under wraps. He’ll avoid any opportunity to be alone with you until your mind is straight again. And eventually, it’ll come to you that you and him aren’t actually together.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We have to act like we’re just friends in front of them.”

“Why’d we decide to do that again?” you ask.

Zach nervously taps his knee.

“Malek had a really bad breakup,” he explains. “We didn’t want to rub it in his face.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. The memory comes to you, choppy but clear enough. “Dumped via text. Poor guy.”

He flashes a relieved smile. It’s reassuring that you remember something that happened a week ago.

“Right,” he says. He puts the car in drive. The sooner he gets to the cabin, the sooner he can stop putting on this act. “We should get going.”

.❅❅❅.

Your friends are quiet and reluctant to come too close when you step into the cabin.

“Guys, I’m fine,” you laugh.

“How are you feeling?” Maggie asks, wide-eyed. “Do you remember me?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s just a headache now.”

“You should sit down,” Zach urges behind you. He puts down the bags he brought in from the car that he refused to let you carry.

“It feels like I’ve been sitting all day,” you say. “Except for the part when I fell.”

“So, we can joke about it?” Chase asks with a grin.

“No,” Zach says. “Too soon.”

You look at him over your shoulder, chuckling.

“I think Zach’s more traumatized than I am,” you say.

“What happened exactly?” Esha asks, waving you in.

You step further into the cabin, struck by the enormous living room windows. They present a stunning view of snowy hills and picturesque cottages under the setting sun.

If it weren’t for the stubborn ache pulsing in your forehead, you’d want to explore more of the cabin. But Zach’s right. You should sit down. That walk from the car was enough exercise. You’re already dizzy again.

“It’s my fault,” Zach replies. “I stopped at some random store and that’s where she fell.”

You meet his eyes, heart breaking at the pained expression on his face. You wish you weren’t putting on a farce right now, because if you could do what you wanted, you’d pull him into a hug.

“It’s not your fault I don’t know how to walk,” you joke.

“You fell in the store?” Chase asks.

“Parking lot,” you say. “To get my wallet. Even though Zach said I didn’t need to. So, technically, it’s on me.”

You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convinced. He’s blaming himself for this entirely.

You sit down for dinner, downing the water Zach encouraged you to drink, while he catches everyone up on how to help support your healing process.

“How do you know all this?” Maggie asks. “Concussions from playing soccer?”

“I asked the doctor,” he clarifies.

When you’re sure nobody’s looking, you reassuringly squeeze his knee under the table. He tenses up under your touch.

.❅❅❅.

After dinner, you’re bundled up in a blanket on the plush living room couch as flames crackle in the stone fireplace.

Nobody has allowed you to lift a finger. Every chore, down to putting away your dinner plate, has been taken over by one of your friends encouraging you to rest.

Zach’s on the other end of the sectional, tapping his fingers against the armrest. You remember that it’s something he does when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? And why does he have to be so far away? You’re pretending to be just friends, but simply sitting next to you wouldn’t be suspicious, would it?

You know you’re not yourself. Your thoughts are muddy and patchy, but you’re already feeling much better than you did at the hospital because another memory suddenly blooms in your mind.

“Hot cocoa,” you say. Five heads turn to look at you as you point at Zach. “I owe you hot cocoa for staying back to drive me.”

“Yeah,” Zach says, his dimpled grin making your heart skip. “Your memories are coming back.”

You nod with a bright smile. At this moment, as he gazes at you from across the room, he realizes just how much he worries about you, he thinks of the kiss you left on his skin, and he accepts that he was wrong.

He’s not falling for you �� he’s already in deep, completely enamored with no hope of pulling himself out.

.❅❅❅.

After you brush your teeth, you pad downstairs to the kitchen before you head to sleep in the bedroom you’re sharing with the girls.

You’re walking back through the dimly lit house when you hear the floorboards creak under someone’s weight. Zach rounds the corner at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hi,” you say sweetly. He towers over you and your eyes drift down to the red and black flannel he’s wearing. “The famous grandpa pj’s.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, happy you remember yet another thing.

His chest twists, conflicted because he enjoys the familiar comfort of being alone with you, but is also anxious in case you still have the wrong idea about the nature of your relationship.

“Proud of me for hydrating?” you ask, holding up the cup of water you just got for yourself.

“Very proud.” He walks past you. “Sleep well.”

You’re confused. It’s unlike him. You remember enough to know he’s typically kind and talkative.

“Hey,” you say, turning to look at him. He meets your gaze, lips slightly parted, visibly tense. “What’s wrong? You don’t really blame yourself, do you? I’m fine.”

His lips curl into a frown. He’s not convinced.

“Please don’t worry,” you continue softly, stepping towards him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. You’re the best friend a concussed girl could have.”

Friend. Does that mean you no longer think he’s your boyfriend? Have you forgotten about the whole thing entirely?

Before he can ask to be sure, he realizes you were being playful with the word, because you quickly look over your shoulder, then unexpectedly pop up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I made sure nobody saw,” you say in an amused whisper. “Good night.”

You rush upstairs, an electric current zipping through you even though you’ve kissed him a million times before.

Zach is standing still in the hallway, heart hammering, blood running hot. He’s lost count of how many times he daydreamed about kissing you. Now, he felt your lips against his for real, and his mind and body are a jumbled mess.

There’s a chance you like him back and now feel uninhibited to offer him the affection you’ve always wanted to give him. Or you’re just confused and you’ll be horrified to learn that he let you believe you’re dating when you were dazed and vulnerable.

If your memory isn’t solid by tomorrow, he’ll have to correct it himself. And he can only hope he won’t ruin your friendship in the process.

››› saturday

You’re walking towards the kitchen, the taste of toothpaste fresh on your tongue. You’re glad you woke up with a much clearer mind. You remember more of yesterday; it’s almost a complete picture in your head.

Zach and Malek are sitting at the breakfast table, cradling mugs of coffee. Zach’s eyes dart away from yours the moment he sees you. It makes your heart sink.

“Hi,” you say to them.

“Morning,” Malek replies.

“Feeling better?” Zach asks.

“Headache’s gone,” you answer. He nods, but doesn’t look at you again.

He’s been acting weird and you’re not sure if it’s just guilt over your fall. The memory of you lying in bed with him a few days ago is so clear. What happened between then and yesterday?

You must have had a fight that you’re forgetting about. You’re sure Zach would be selfless enough to pretend that you’re on good terms while you’re concussed, but he can’t hide that he’s on edge.

“Bad sleep?” you ask, looking down at his drink. “You only drink coffee when you’re desperate.”

His eyes finally find yours again, softening when they do. It’s the early morning and he’s wearing sweats and a hoodie and his dark honey hair is a tousled mess, yet he still looks so handsome and it feels unfair to not be able to kiss him.

“You remember that, too,” he says with relief. “Anything else come up?”

“Nothing that feels important,” you admit with a shrug. Disappointment flashes over his features and you chew on your lip in saddened confusion.

Zach hates seeing the hurt on your face. He needs to have this conversation now and get it over with.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asks.

“That sounds nice,” you answer.

“You’re insane,” Malek says. “It’s like the North Pole out there.”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh. “It makes you appreciate being inside even more.”

.❅❅❅.

You stand side-by-side on the snow-covered balcony leading out to the back of the cabin, bundled up in your coats, hats, and mittens.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you whisper, gazing out at the frozen lake hugged by patches of trees.

“It is,” Zach says. His breath comes out in a small puff of fog as he ruminates over how to tell you what he needs to tell you.

“All that ice,” you mumble, “and so many different ways to fall on it.”

He cracks a smile.

“Still too soon to joke about it,” he says.

“Even I don’t get a free pass?” you chuckle.

You reach for his hand, feeling his warmth through your mittens. Zach clears his throat and pulls out of your grasp.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he begins. His cheeks redden. “And please hear me out. I was doing what I thought was–”

The sound of the door sliding open interrupts him. You both look back to see Malek ambling out onto the balcony with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

“Maybe you guys are onto something,” he says. “We didn’t come all the way out here not to appreciate the views, right?”

He stands between you two and despite the tension, you and Zach share a smile, knowingly both irritated yet amused at your friend’s clueless intrusion.

.❅❅❅.

When you head back inside, everyone else has woken up, loudly chattering in the kitchen. You’re pulled into a conversation with Esha and Maggie while Chase asks Zach to help him with starting the fire.

It’s hard to absorb the words your friends are saying after the way you and Zach left things a few minutes ago.

“Can someone turn on some music?” Maggie eventually asks. “I left my phone upstairs.”

“Sure,” you offer.

“No screens!” Esha shouts.

“It’ll just be for a second,” you laugh. You connect to the speaker. When you realize you have an unfamiliar playlist open, you curiously scroll through the songs.

Zach comes back into the kitchen, dusting off his hands.

You tap on the first track in the playlist. A slow, gentle song buzzes from the living room.

Then, it hits you like a wave.

This song played in his car on the way here. You dozed off listening to it. You woke up from a dream.

A dream.

Zach isn’t your boyfriend. He never was.

The puzzle pieces have finally snapped together, and the picture isn’t pretty.

You stare at him, the realization harsh and unsettling. The possibility of a fight you forgot about had run through your head, but the fact that you were never even together is startling.

Zach can see it immediately, the discomfort on your face. He thought he wanted you to figure it out on your own. Now that you have, he regrets not telling you the truth right away.

“Uh, my… phone is about to die,” you stammer, stopping the song. “Be right back.”

You leave the room, and while everyone else carries on conversation, Zach’s heart is in his stomach. He messed up. Possibly irreversibly.

He trails behind you, whispering your name as you rush up the stairs. You turn to face him once you reach your bedroom, nearly breathless.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, the embarrassment wringing out your insides.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can you sit down? You need to take it easy.”

“Zach,” you assert. He sighs in worry.

“I was about to tell you outside, but then we got interrupted.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me right away?” you say. “I… oh, my God. I kissed you last night.”

Zach rakes his hand through his hair as you step back and exhale in disbelief.

“The doctor said I shouldn’t stress you out,” he explains. “I didn’t want to confuse you or embarrass you–”

“Too late,” you interrupt with a note of sadness.

It’s a punch to Zach’s gut seeing you so upset because of something he did. He’d actually prefer a real punch right now. At least then, he’d know the pain will fade. The guilt filling his chest feels like it’ll be there forever.

“I – I was doing what I thought was best,” he says. “She said you were fragile and it freaked me out and I promise, the last thing I want to do is upset you or mess with your healing.”

You can see that he’s in distress, but so are you. You spilled your heart out to him, you touched and kissed him while under the impression that you shared a love that wasn’t there.

“Please don’t think I’m a creep or something – I just – I honestly didn’t expect that kiss,” he admits. “I would’ve stopped it if I did.”

You have to look away. Why would he have stopped it? Because you weren’t in your right mind? Or because he wouldn’t ever want you to kiss him?

You hope he has it in him to at least admit if he feels anything for you. This is the time to do it after you embarrassed yourself so immensely. You stare down at the floor, silently praying that he’ll reassure you.

Zach’s throat tightens. Seeing you like this makes his shame so overpowering that his eyes start to burn with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He steps out of the room before you can see him cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him. He wants to give you space.

You’re left standing alone in the silence, your heart cracked right down the middle.

.❅❅❅.

Zach doesn’t let his gaze linger on you for the rest of the day. He’s terrified he’ll have to face his fear of losing you.

What’ll life look like without you? You met and then all of a sudden, you became a ray of light in his world, always able to make him smile, always on his mind. He can’t stomach making you uncomfortable. You looked so disgusted that he went along with a lie.

After dinner, you’re all sitting in the living room and helping Maggie set up a board game. That’s when Zach finally allows himself to look at you.

You’re sitting in front of the fireplace, quietly reading the instructions to yourself, lips moving with the words. Worrisome curiosity gnaws at him, eager to find out if your mind is clear again.

“Does reading still feel weird or is it okay now?” he asks you from across the room.

“Oh – yeah,” you say, caught off guard. You haven’t spoken since your fight this morning. “It’s okay now.”

“Where have you been, MacLaren?” Maggie laughs. “We established she’s back to normal like three hours ago.”

“Do we need to check your head?” Chase jokes.

Zach forces a laugh. He’s been too lost in his thoughts to absorb himself in the conversations happening around him all day. The possibility of making you uncomfortable simply by being in the same room as you is too heavy to ignore at this point.

“Maybe,” he says. “I should probably turn in.”

“What?” Malek shouts. “I was going to kick your ass at… what’s this game called again?”

“You can kick my ass later,” Zach mumbles, standing up. “Sorry, guys.”

“Lame,” Maggie sighs.

You keep your gaze on him as he leaves the room, but his eyes stay on the floor the entire time.

.❅❅❅.

You gently knock on the boys’ bedroom door, listening to your friends’ enthusiastic competition-fuelled conversations echoing from downstairs.

It’s been fifteen minutes since you started the board game and two since you purposely knocked yourself out of it. You excused yourself to take a shower, but your intention was always to come up and talk to Zach. Even though you’d left things so tense, you need to make sure of one thing.

“Yeah?” His voice on the other side of the door is muffled. You step into the dark room, the hallway light spilling in.

“It’s me,” you whisper into the dimness. “Sorry. You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No. I can’t,” he admits. You hear a mattress creak. A light turns on with a click. Zach’s standing by a lamp, almost looking wounded.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you, nervous as you settle on the edge of one of the beds. He sits on another bed and faces you.

“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you say. “I just had to make sure you know that, okay?”

Zach lets out a shaky sigh. He purses his lips, nodding slowly, and when you see a shine pool over his eyes, you still.

“Thanks,” he breathes. “I hated the idea of you thinking I took advantage of you or something and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around me if you–”

“What? Zach, no. No way.”

When he quietly sniffles, you’re certain he’s holding back tears. You knew he was sensitive, but witnessing him cry over the possibility of making you uncomfortable stings. Especially since he surely felt awkward with you touching him and kissing him, and still played along for you.

He doesn’t deserve to feel like this. You shuffle over, sitting next to him on his bed.

“Listen, I was just really embarrassed,” you say, desperate to console him. “I still am, to be honest.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be. You were injured.”

“Yeah, but… how would you feel if you ran around kissing me just for me to tell you I never wanted you to?”

Zach’s jaw tenses. Is that what you think? That he doesn't want to kiss you? God, he’d spend all day kissing you if you let him.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” you continue, “and I get why you went along with it. I know you were just looking out for me. Sorry that I got so upset.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“We’ll never agree on this,” you say with a quiet laugh. “We’re good, okay? I’m gonna go take a shower and if you’re up for it, you should go downstairs. I’ll come down after and make you that cocoa I promised.”

Zach laughs, genuine and warm, and it makes your heart feel like it’s floating.

“Cool,” he says.

“Cool,” you echo. You stand up, almost out the door when he stops you.

“Hey, can you…”

“What?” you ask.

“Just… be careful in the shower. Don’t slip.”

“I’ll be fine. Jeez, you fall on your head one time,” you quip. He laughs. And his smile doesn’t fade for a while after you leave the room.

.❅❅❅.

You’ve just washed the soap off your skin and are about to turn the water off when you’re plunged into darkness. Standing in the tub, naked, completely blind.

For a moment, you’re afraid this is a symptom of your concussion. But then you realize the power must have gone out. You feel for the tile wall, pushing the shower curtain to the side, more nervous to fall than you’d normally be.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Zach asks through the door. He’s nearly breathless. As soon as the lights went out, he raced up the stairs in worry, using his phone flashlight as a guide.

“Yeah,” you call. “Did the power go out?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Do you need any help or anything? I can get Esha or Maggie.”

You smile to yourself in the dark, not surprised that he’s being so considerate of your comfort. You feel for the robe you left on the counter and wrap yourself in its warmth, then open the door.

Zach’s standing in the hallway, phone flashlight aimed at the floor, concern etched into his face.

“Do we know what happened?” you ask.

Seeing you fresh out the shower feels oddly vulnerable. This is an intimate state for him to witness you in, but you’re not nervous at all, and it’s reassuring to have the hard proof that you’re not uncomfortable around him.

“I think it’s the wind,” he says. “It must have knocked a power line down.”

“Uh oh,” you reply in same way you did when Chase texted about the furnace breaking. He chuckles. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you really do remember everything.

“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there,” you say. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course.”

The lights are still out when you come downstairs in your pajamas. Your friends are huddled around the fire, amber lights and gray shadows casting over their faces and on the walls. The crescent moon gleams in the cloudy sky past the massive windows.

“Were you at least at the end of your shower?” Esha asks with a defeated laugh.

“Yeah,” you say. “I was just about to get out when the room went dark. I was scared my concussion came back.”

“That’d be great timing,” Esha jokes.

“Right? While I’m naked in a tub,” you laugh, settling on the floor next to her. Zach is glad nobody’s looking at him right now, because his cheeks are burning at the mention of you being naked. “Did anyone message the owner?”

“Yeah,” Maggie says. “He’s not answering, but I don’t know what he could even do. I checked online and the whole grid is out. I think we’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Chase cursed us,” Esha says.

“How is this my fault?” he asks.

“You tempted fate with your stupid joke yesterday,” she replies. “The furnace broke. Now everything is broken. Are you happy?”

“Honestly, thrilled,” he replies. “Pretty cool to have the power to control the weather.”

You continue to chat with your friends, feeling the temperature in the cabin slowly fall. Before you know it, it’s been half an hour and the power still isn’t back on. You’re shaking from the cold.

Zach notices the way you’re curled up, arms wrapped around your legs, surely colder than everyone else since you just showered.

“We should keep the fire going,” he says. “I don’t think the power will come back on any time soon.”

“What happened to the annoying optimism we’ve grown to know and love?” Maggie asks.

“I told you guys, I traumatized him when I fell yesterday,” you say. “I broke my brain and his.”

“No offense, but I probably would’ve laughed my ass off if I saw you fall like that,” Chase jokes.

“That’s why I’m glad I was with Zach,” you retort. He smirks to himself as he builds the fire, hoping it’ll radiate more heat for you soon. “I bet when my memory was messed up, you would’ve convinced me that I owed you money or something.”

“Shit,” Chase says. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Shameless,” Esha mutters. “Guys, I think we’re going to have to sleep here in front of the fire. I bet the bedrooms are freezing.”

“Aw, it’ll be like a real sleepover,” Maggie says excitedly. “Let’s do it.”

You’re all in a fit of laughter as you bring mattresses and pillows and blankets down the stairs, already sure that this is going to be a cherished memory. What happened yesterday has given you a new perspective on life, a realization that something as simple as your memory should be appreciated.

And it’s also made your crush on Zach even deeper. He’s done nothing but look out for you, down to pretending to be your boyfriend to ease you into your healing. Now that the embarrassment has faded, you feel guilty that you were ever upset at him.

The six of you lie in front of the crackling fire, wrapped up in duvets as the wind howls outside. You’re closest to Zach, your back inches away from his chest. As you gaze at the flames, you think about the way his lips felt on yours last night.

No wonder you felt so stunned after kissing him. Your mind didn’t know it was your first kiss, but your body did. The thought that it was also your last kiss makes your stomach sink. He’s had every opportunity to tell you if he likes you. He hasn’t. You’re just a friend to him and nothing more.

“Who wants to bet on when the power’s going to be back on?” Malek asks. You hear the click of him unlocking his phone. “It’s 11:30 now. I don’t…”

He suddenly stops talking.

“Did he die? I’m too tired to turn around and check,” Esha says.

“My ex texted me,” Malek says.

“Don’t fall into the trap, man,” Chase says. “What’s done is done.”

“What’s it say?” Zach asks. He stares at you as you lie in front of him, backlit by the fire.

“She’s apologizing,” Malek says. “She wants to get back together.”

“No,” Maggie says sternly. “She dumped you over text, dude.”

You listen to your friends chat, your eyelids growing heavy. Admittedly, you’re worried you’ll dream of Zach again. Having his heart in a delusion just to wake up and realize it’s not really yours hurts too much.

You shuffle your feet to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Zach.

“Sorry,” you whisper over your shoulder. “Was that your kicking foot?”

“Yeah,” Zach replies. “You just blew my entire season.”

You giggle quietly, tightening your blanket around you. You wish you could hold on to a shred of hope that eventually, your feelings for him will fade. The sinking feeling in your gut tells you that’ll never happen.

.❅❅❅.

A harsh droning pulls you out of your sleep. Your eyes squeeze shut, then flicker open when you realize someone is snoring. Loudly.

“Who is that?” Esha whispers into the pitch dark. The fire must have died down.

“Malek,” Chase mutters. “He sounds like a fucking dragon.”

“Malek,” Esha whines. His snoring suddenly stops and you figure she must have kicked him awake.

You chuckle to yourself, gently shuffling in place. That’s when you realize you’re up against a warm, firm surface, your nose brushing against the comforting fragrance you love so much.

You’re cuddled up to Zach. You pull back an inch, your entire body tense.

“How’d I get here?” you try to joke in a whisper. “Sorry.”

“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily. He pulls you in by your hip, squeezing gently in his daze. Your heart thrums and you obey, giving into what you want most.

››› sunday

You can feel the brightness of the sun behind your eyelids. The air isn’t cold. The furnace is buzzing. The power is back on.

You gain your bearings and slowly sit up. Everyone else is still asleep. You smile in admiration as you look at your sleeping friends. You love them all so much. You turn to see Zach, his lips in a cute pout, and you accept the fact that you love him, too, in a deeper way.

Friends. You’re friends. You’ll keep telling yourself that until your heart believes it.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen, determined to cook a big breakfast for everyone. Five minutes pass before Maggie walks in with a tired smile, commenting that something smells good.

“Sit down,” you invite her. “Coffee? Tea? I’m making a thank-you breakfast.”

“What for?” she asks.

“You all took such good care of me,” you say.

“Yeah, because Zach basically threatened us to when you first got here,” she laughs. “I’ve never seen him so intense. Last night, when the power went out? He booked it upstairs to find you. He’s been so worried about you.”

“Yeah, I think he still feels responsible for me falling,” you say.

She sits up to look over the wall into the hallway to check that the coast is clear, then waves you closer. You turn off the range and sit next to her.

“I think it’s more than that,” she says.

“No,” you say with a small laugh. “No way.”

.❅❅❅.

Zach shuffles awake, exhaling deeply. He drags his hand over the blanket next to him, looking for you before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.

It felt so nice when you turned towards him in a half-asleep daze, nuzzling your head into his chest. It took him a while to fall asleep simply because of how hard his heart was drumming.

He steps over his sleeping friends. Then, he hears a hushed conversation getting louder as he heads down the hallway.

“...think so?” Maggie says.

“No,” you respond. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you and Esha until after we got back, but… I was so out of it at the hospital that I thought he was my boyfriend and… he actually went along with it.”

“What?” she says.

You’re talking about him. He’s about to clear his throat to announce himself and pretend like he hasn’t heard anything, but then he hears your next words.

“I know he didn’t want me acting like that with him, but he tolerated it just so I wouldn’t get freaked out when I realized my memory was messed up,” you confess. “He was so awkward about it after. Trust me. He does not like me back.”

Zach slowly steps back towards the living room and goes up the stairs, trying to absorb what he just heard, trying to make sense of the fact that you not only truly think that he doesn’t want your affection, but also that you’re genuinely disappointed about it.

Back. You don’t think he likes you back.

This might just be the happiest he’s ever felt.

.❅❅❅.

You love how pleased your friends look at the breakfast spread you’ve made for them as they trickle into the kitchen.

“It’s a good thing it was so cold overnight,” you announce. “Nothing in the fridge went bad.”

Zach is the last one to come in and your heart, the traitor, skitters when you meet his striking blue eyes. How long until you can look into those eyes and not think about how it feels to be held by him, how it feels to kiss him?

“Sleep well?” you ask to make casual conversation. He settles in the last empty chair at the table.

“Yeah. My old man pajamas are really toasty,” he says.

You nod, skin buzzing. Does he remember cuddling you in the middle of the night? By the way his eyes linger on you, you think he just might, and in this simple, small moment, you feel a pinch of hope that he feels the same way you do.

You glance up at the clock hanging above the table to see it’s just past nine, leaving less than two hours before check-out. You try to enjoy the last little bit you have with your friends before you split up to clean and leave the cabin the way you found it.

.❅❅❅.

The cabin is spotless, the cars are packed up, and you’re hugging your friends goodbye as light snowflakes gently fall from the white sky.

You’ve been giddy with anticipation at the thought of having an hour and a half drive back to campus with Zach, even though he left such a confusing knot in your chest. Despite everything, he’s still a friend you love to spend time with.

“Have a nice drive!” Chase says as he heads towards Esha’s car, raising his brows at Zach.

After breakfast, Chase had asked him to join you two on the ride home to have more space than he would have sharing a backseat with Malek, but Zach apologized and told him he’d rather not.

When Chase insisted he tell him why, Zach didn’t see any reason to keep it in any longer. He admitted to liking you and said he’d finally tell you on the way home.

“Bold,” Chase had said. “And if she doesn’t like you, too? That’ll be like, the most awkward car ride ever.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Zach replied with a smile.

.❅❅❅.

“Wow,” you say as you drive out onto the main road. “I never made you that hot cocoa, did I?”

“You didn’t,” he says, pretending to be deeply displeased.

“Will you ever forgive me?” you play along.

“I’ll need to do some reflecting first,” Zach replies. You laugh, relieved that you two are joking like old times before this past weekend through you for a loop.

“Fair,” you say. You plug your phone into his speaker system. “Let’s see if I can unlock any other memories. And don’t tell me it’s still too soon to joke about it.”

Zach chuckles, cocking his head.

“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “I woke up in a good mood.”

“You’re basically always in a good mood,” you respond.

Zach can understand why you’d think that. It’s because he’s never been in a bad mood around you. Life is bright and easy and rich when you’re around. And it’s been even richer since he overheard what you said this morning.

“We passed a waterfall while you slept on the way up here,” Zach says. “Would you want to make a stop to check out the view?”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing away the reminder of what you’d dreamt about during that nap. “Sounds cool.”

.❅❅❅.

Crystal blue water rushes down in an endless torrent, crashing down to the surface with a dull roar. You’re in awe of how ethereal the waterfall is, white mist bubbling over the stream bordered by snowy land. The snow is still falling gently, the atmosphere cool but not cold, as if the earth is apologizing for the windstorm last night.

You and Zach stand at a height behind a railing, his car parked a few feet away on the side of the road. He purposely slowed down so your friends would drive far enough ahead to not notice you’d made a stop.

Now that he’s here, he’s painfully nervous. Worst case scenario, you’re not interested in dating him, and it’ll lead to, like Chase said, the most awkward car ride ever. He’s sure the remaining hour journey back to campus would feel like ten hours if this goes wrong.

But he’s always been optimistic and last night as he fell asleep with you in his arms, he thought back to every moment in your friendship when he had a spark of hope that he had a place in your heart like you do in his.

Over the months he’s known you, he got into the habit of trying to dull the spark, reminding himself of how much he had to lose if you didn’t return his feelings.

Deep down, he always knew he’d eventually give in; he has so much love to give you and the thought of keeping it contained when you might want it was getting harder to bear.

You could break his heart if you don’t want him, but it’d break his heart even more if you do and he doesn’t do anything about it.

“Wow,” you say in a whisper, taking a photo of the waterfall with your phone. “I shouldn’t post this, should I? Our friends might be mad that we didn't include them.”

“I think they’ll understand,” Zach replies. “I told Chase… uh…”

You lower your phone, looking up at him, unable to stifle your smirk because of how cute he looks from the way the breeze has messed up his hair. The road behind you is clear and quiet, the mid-morning sun offering mild warmth.

“You told Chase…?” you say.

Zach licks his lips, his mouth gently opening before he finds the words. He shifts to face you, eyes searching your pretty features, heart in his throat.

“I told him I wanted to be alone with you,” he says. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop this morning, I swear… but I… I do like you. Back.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You look down at the snowy concrete, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I heard you right… right?” Zach mumbles.

“Back,” you repeat softly, finding the bravery to look back up at him. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

A sweet, honeyed smile grows on his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the exact way you’d dreamt he would. How you always wanted him to, but convinced yourself he wouldn’t.

“I didn’t tolerate you acting like we were dating,” he says. “I liked it and I felt bad for liking it because it wasn’t real.”

You mirror his smile, your heart full of love and joy and the comfort that he’s been giving you since the day you met him.

“I was just doing what I always wanted to do,” you confess. His eyes glint with endearment as he brings a hand up to gently cup your face.

“I really enjoyed being your pretend boyfriend,” Zach says, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. “Can I be your real one now, though?”

You sigh softly, nodding as he stares at you in nothing short of infatuation. He leans closer by a half-inch, silently testing if you’re okay with it.

You close the distance and your lips meet with a sweet, gentle tenderness like they’ve done this before. You pull back, remembering that they have.

“Can we count that as our first kiss?” you say.

“Absolutely,” he chuckles.

››› one week later

You’re stepping out of the kitchen in Zach’s apartment, tightly gripping the tray of six mugs filled with hot cocoa.

“Whoa,” Zach says, quickly standing up from his spot on the floor when you enter the living room. “Careful.”

“Her concussion is gone, man,” Chase says. “You have the test results to prove it. She can handle carrying a tray.”

“He’s helping her because he’s a gentleman,” Esha states. “Do you know what that word means or are you committed to being a caveman forever?”

“Caveman,” he repeats with a grin.

“Don’t give him any,” Esha mutters. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

You laugh as you set the tray down on the coffee table with Zach’s help. You settle in your spot on the couch as Zach sits on the floor in front of you again, tucked in between your legs, the insides of your knees pressed against his shoulders.

“I have to say, I called it,” Maggie says as she gazes between you and Zach with a big smile on her face. “Tell everyone how I called it.”

“You called it,” you say, putting your hands on your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, gently squeezing.

Her eyes dart to Esha and you share a knowing grin. You’d had private conversations about how if you and Zach were always a little obvious, Esha and Chase are the definition of the word.

“Ow,” Malek snips, holding the steaming mug away from his face. “I burned myself.”

“It’s hot cocoa, Malek,” Chase says. “It’s literally in the name.”

“Really good, though,” Malek says, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” you laugh.

The tray is eventually littered with empty mugs and you stand to clear away the mess, your heart glowing with the feeling it always has when you’re surrounded by your friends.

You’re scrubbing a soapy sponge over a mug when you hear Zach’s voice behind you.

“You don’t have to wash anything.”

You look over your shoulder, smiling.

“It’s okay,” you say. He approaches you, hugging you from behind as you stand at the sink, surrounding you in his warmth as your friends talk a room away.

He always enjoyed moments of privacy with you, but since that day by the waterfall, every second with you is more than perfect.

“So?” you say. “Did you get your wish? Was the cocoa life-changing?”

“Ask me again what you asked on the way up to the cabin,” he murmurs. “What I want most in the world.”

“What do you want most–”

“You,” he interrupts. You laugh breathily as he kisses the side of your neck. “I just couldn’t answer honestly the first time you asked. But it was always you.”

You turn the faucet off and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face as he leaves kisses on your neck and holds you tighter.

It was always him, too.

(the end)

#taking a lil break from my intense dramatic rafe series hehe #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren blurb #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren #drew starkey #the other zoey

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aajjks · 18 days ago

Text

Hot Eve (m)

synopsis. getting fucked raw by your ex boyfriend stuck in an elevator on Christmas Eve.

warnings. 18+, ëxplïçït sêx, ünprôtëçtëd sêx, nønçøn sêx, stälkër ëx böÿfrïënd jk, yn ïs kïndä mørälïtÿ cørrùpt yn, ëlëvåtør sêx, yândërë thëmës, därk smüt.

note. LAST WORK FOR 2024!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY CHRISTIAN FOLLOWERS! 🎄❤️❤️‍🔥. this year was hard as fuck. I’m not okay but let’s hope I’ll be so much happier starting from next year. enjoy this!!!! share feedback! gif credits to owner, found it on Pinterest.

December, 25th. It’s Christmas.

It’s the favorite time of the year for you, you love it, the cold, the sweetness of the blessings of Christmas. The streets are lit up. Merry atmosphere everywhere.

But all you feel is dread.

he’s near..

Your legs are on fire, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as you sprint down the hallway.

The sound of his boots echoes behind you, heavy and deliberate. He's not running. He doesn't need to.

The elevator is so close-just a few more steps.

You slam your hand against the button, frantic, fingers trembling. The soft ding of the arriving elevator is barely audible over the roar of blood in your ears.

Don't look back. Don't look back.

But you do.

Jungkook is there, closing the distance with that infuriating, unhurried stride, his lips curled into a smirk like he's already won.

His black shirt clings to his muscular chest, and his eyes gleam with something feral, like a predator toying with its prey.

The elevator doors glide open, and you dart inside, stabbing the close door button over and over again. You're muttering under your breath, desperate, “Close, close, please just fucking close-“”

The doors start to slide shut, and relief washes over you. But then you see it-his hand. Thick, veined, and steady as it wedges between the closing doors.

The elevator jerks back open, and your stomach twists into a sick knot of dread.

Jungkook steps inside, slow and casual, like he's got all the time in the world.

There's something deliciously pathetic about the way you shrink back against the wall, like you honestly thought you could get away from him.

It's adorable. Pathetic, but adorable.

He lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, drinking in the sight of you.

Your chest is heaving, your cheeks flushed, and those pretty, wide eyes are staring up at him like you're terrified.

Good.

He steps forward, his boots heavy against the floor, until there's no space left between you and the cold metal wall.

“Really?”

You are so fucking dumb, but so cute.

He drawls, tilting his head as his lips curl into a lazy, mocking smirk. “The elevator? That's the best you could do?”

His voice drops, low and biting. “What were you gonna do, huh Ride it to safety? Maybe hide in your little fucking apartment and pretend I don't exist?"

He chuckles darkly, his tongue sliding over his teeth. “Cute. Stupid as fuck, but cute.”

Your throat is dry, and your legs feel like they're about to give out. He's so close now, the sharp scent of his cologne invading every breath you take, mixing with the heat radiating off his body.

“Jungkook, I'm serious. You need to leave,” you manage to say, though your voice comes out small and shaky, utterly unconvincing.

He laughs at you. A sharp, humorless sound that makes your stomach churn.

“Serious?" he repeats, arching a brow as if the word itself is a joke. “You're fucking hilarious, you know that? Acting all big and bad when you're shaking like a goddamn leaf.”

His hand slams against the wall beside your head, and you flinch hard. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Tell me to leave again. Go ahead.”

You will never… because you can’t.

“Let's see what happens.”

You're trembling, looking at him with those big, frightened eyes, and it's making his cock ache.

He hates how much he loves this— loves the way you run, the way you fight, like it's anything more than a game to him.

He tilts his head, dragging his gaze over you slowly, deliberately, like he's savoring every inch. You're perfect.

So fucking perfect when you're like this.

“Look at you,” he says, his voice low and sharp.

“Standing there all scared and pretty, like you don't know exactly how this ends.”

“You like this shit, don't you?” His hand trails down your side, possessive and unapologetic, and he smirks when you squirm. “Running away. Making me fucking chase you. You get off on it.”

Yes you do.

You try to push him away, your hands pressing weakly against his chest, but it's useless. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head in one fluid motion, grinning when you gasp.

“Stop fucking pretending,” he growls, his eyes darkening as they lock with yours. “We both know you like it when I get like this. You fucking love it.”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. You hate how strong he is, how easily he can overpower you.

But what you hate more-what terrifies you- is that some part of you does like it.

God, he’s so hot..

“Let me go,” you whisper, though it sounds more like a plea than a command.

His grip on your wrists tightens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your lips. "

“Let you go?” he repeats, his voice mocking. “That's cute, baby. Real fucking cute.”

His free hand slides down to your waist, gripping hard enough to make you wince.

“Let's get one thing straight,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to something dark and dangerous. “You're mine. Every fucking inch of you. And I'm not letting you go anywhere.”

He's hard as a rock, the sight of you pinned against the wall, helpless and trembling, driving him wild.

His gaze drops to your lips, parted and soft, and it takes everything in him not to devour you right then and there.

“You can run all you want,” Jungkook says, his voice thick with lust and something darker.

“But you'll never fucking get away from me. Never.”

His fingers dig into your waist, his body pressing against yours, caging you completely. He wants to mark you, to ruin you, to make sure you never even think about leaving him again.

Your entire body feels trapped in a vice, his presence suffocating, overwhelming. You hate how he's looking at you-hungry, like he wants

to devour you whole, like he owns you. And maybe he does.

The words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between fear and something darker, something shameful…

Your cunt feels so damp.

You twist your wrists against his grip, but doesn't even flinch.

it's effortless.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice shaky and thin. “This isn't-“

“This isn't what?” he snaps, cutting you off. His voice is low, rough, teetering between anger and lust. “What you wanted? What you've been fucking asking for this whole time?”

His fingers dig into your waist, and you feel the heat of his body press harder against yours. You can't look at him, can't handle the intensity of his eyes burning into you.

“Look at me,” he demands, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

You shake your head, keeping your gaze fixed on the wall behind him.

“I said look at me.”

He releases one of your wrists only to grip your chin, forcing your face up until you're staring into those dark, furious eyes.

His pupils are blown wide, and the muscle in his jaw ticks with restraint.

“See this?” he growls, his tone dripping with venom as his free hand grabs your thigh, hitching it against his hip,

“This is what happens when you try to run from me. When you act like you don't fucking belong to me.”

You're trembling under his touch, and it sends a sick, addictive thrill straight through him. He can feel the way your body betrays you, the way your breaths come quicker, the way your thighs press together even though you're still pretending to fight.

“Fucking liar,” he mutters, his lips curling into a sneer. "You say you want me to leave, but you don't mean it. You never fucking mean it.”

Jungkook knows you..

He drags his hand along your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave marks, his body pressing closer, caging you completely.

You're his, every inch of you, and it pisses him off that you even thought you could get away.

“You think I'm stupid?” he spits, leaning in until his mouth hovers over yours. “You think I don't see the way you look at me yn?”

He mocks, licking his lips, his tongue teasing you.

“Fuck baby… you’re making my cock ache.” He groans, biting his lower lip, his hand leaves your thigh to settle on his own zipper.

Your eyes wide because you know what he’s about to do and you want to stop him, but no words come out of your mouth because your brain has stopped working.

All you can think, feel.. and smell is him.

“Fuck yn… I’ve been warning you for the longest time.. you have no idea how horny I am right now…” the way his eyes are clouded with lust tells you everything you need to know.

He looks like a feral animal.

He unzips his pants, letting it fall down and then he presses a button on the elevator, making it come to a halt. You shudder in fear.

“J-Jungkook..” you manage to slip out his name from your mouth, but before you can say anything else, he crashes his mouth to yours.

His tongue forces itself into your mouth as he uses his other hand to usher his boxers off. You whine in his mouth, trying to stop him but—

God, his tongue feels so hot.

Your pussy clenches as you both kiss. He’s not just kissing but he’s devouring you, his free hand cages you in, making sure you can’t escape.

His hard free dick is pressing against your stomach, his other hand hurriedly goes to your skirt, unzipping it he catches the hem of your underwear, he yanks it down, as his tongue completely dominates your mouth.

You moan helplessly.

But he doesn’t let you break the kiss,, you’re already soaking wet.

His teeth nip at your bottom lip as his tongues go to assault your mouth. Then without a warning he shoves his cock inside your wet right cunt.

A guttural moan escapes his throat as he growls into your mouth like a wounded animal.

He’s finally getting to fuck you after so long.

And your knees go weak, like jelly. It’s too late now.

He starts to pound into you hard and fast, your back slamming continuously against the elevator wall, he pulls you up by your hips and wraps your legs around his waist.

After finally breaking the kiss, his thrusts only her more brutal, you scream in ecstasy and pain, burying your face in his neck as you grip on his shoulders tighten.

“Fu-Fuck yn you’re going to make me fucking cum.”

Again, his hungry mouth finds yours, devouring with desperate kisses as he moves his hips, fast.

“O-Oh J-Jungkook…”

•••

Hours go by. You’re fucked out- he’s sweating, you’re actually paralyzed but he’s not stopping, uoure still stuck in the elevator, thank fully the fan of the machine is keeping you alive but the elevator reeks of sex.

What have you done? Getting fucked by your psychotic ex on Christmas Eve.

And he’s about to cum inside your cunt raw.

And you are going to do nothing about it. Like always.

“Merry fucking Christmas my love.”

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dwaekkicidal · 7 months ago

Text

Lessons

˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3

OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.

And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.

His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”

“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.

“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’

“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.

“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.

“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.

You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds.

Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.

By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.

“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.

You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.

“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”

“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull.

The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”

When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.

As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.

“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.

You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.

“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.

You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

#sian’s writing #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x reader smut #bang chan imagines #chan smut #chan x reader #chan x reader smut #chan imagines #skz x reader #skz x reader smut

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kitten4sannie · 4 months ago

Text

sleepover

pairing: perverted bsf! wooyoung x fem! reader feat. a comatose mingi (he’s asleep on the bed lmao…or is he…)

summary: wooyoung is more than willing to hold you when you’re afraid during your horror movie marathon, and even more willing to help distract you like a good friend does.

wc: 1.4k

warnings: perverted dom! wooyoung, subby innocent! reader, bro is convincing and manipulative okay, cnc/dubcon-ish vibes (if that’s not your thing feel free to skip!!), coercion/corruption, exhibitionism (all of the following is done right next to mingi), brief kissing, groping, fingering, initial orgasm denial,, tit play + spit, rough unprotected sex, creampie, this is a wild one idkidkkkkk

a/n: wooyo has been haunting my brain lately so i had no choice but to write this >~< i hope you enjoy <33 alsoo i’ll be posting one more corruption themed fic very soon that feats frat boy san and minyunhwa~

song rec: if you think i’m pretty - artemas

“I told you not to put this movie on, Woo. It’s way too scary,” you complained whinily into your best friend’s shoulder, shielding your eyes from the suspenseful scene playing out on the laptop sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Mingi was the one who wanted to watch it, you know,” Wooyoung chided, causally wrapping his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your bare arm up and down in a comforting manner.

“Well, Mingi’s passed out.” Pouting, you pointed to your other friend that was curled up underneath the comforter beside you, his eyes shut. “He’s not even watching, so what’s the point?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a pussy.” His cold fingers made their way down to your waist to squeeze at it, making you jump from the sudden contact. “Oh, I see….Do you think the monster’s gonna get ya?”

“Shut up, Wooyoung!” you whisper-shouted, as to not wake up Mingi. You pushed on his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly against your hand. Was it racing like yours was? And, when did he get so close to you? His hand was already running up and down the bare skin of your thigh, causing your thin shorts to ride up more and more, but you didn’t have the nerve to confront him about it. Your pout grew. “I’m really scared, okay?”

“Oh, you poor baby,” Wooyoung cooed softly into your ear, his words laced with faux pity, his sharpened gaze focused solely on your blushing face. “Do you want me to help you, Y/N? Distract you from the scary movie?”

“Y-yes, please…”

You didn’t know what you were getting into, but you trusted that Wooyoung had your best interest in mind. It was then that he gently coaxed you further into his arms, lying comfortably against him as you faced the laptop screen once again. Goosebumps began to spread across your limbs from underneath the warm comforter, but it wasn’t from the frightening movie — it was from Wooyoung’s hand slipping underneath your shorts, his slender fingers rubbing at your pulsing cunt through your panties.

“W-Wooyoung…” you croaked weakly, your face and body growing so hot, you could pass out. Friends didn’t do this sort of thing, did they?

“Shhhh, baby, just look at the screen…yeah, just like that…” he sighed softly, his warm breath fanning over your neck, now concentrating on the way your tank top clung to your softness of your tits, how your nipples grew hard enough to poke through the thin material, groaning when he found your clit through your panties, rubbing at it in slow, small circles.

“B-but we’re friends, Woo…” You made a sad attempt at pushing his hand away, the moral debate you were having internally slowly fizzling away the longer Wooyoung touched you.

“Isn’t this what friends are for?” Wooyoung persisted, pulling your panties to the side just in time for his fingers to dip in between your soaked folds. “And, fuck, you’re so wet right now, Y/N. It feels good, doesn’t it? What’s so wrong with that, baby?”

“But, nnngh…Mingi’s right next to us…” You began to melt into Wooyoung’s arms and the soft mattress below you, unable to resist spreading your legs out for him, your thigh even resting against Mingi’s, not noticing when it shifted just as two of Wooyoung’s digits slipped inside you.

Licking at his lips, Wooyoung then pressed them onto your cheek, egging you on in a low voice, “Then, tell me to stop, baby.” He began to fuck his fingers into you at a fast pace, your walls clenching around them. “Right now. Say it.” Now, he was relentlessly rubbing his thumb into your clit with his free hand, still working your cunt, hooking his digits against the spot that made you spasm, your body growing warmer and heavier. When you pouted up at him and whined, he simply mirrored your helpless expression. “What’s the matter, baby? Hm?”

“Oh– fuck, right there…” you moaned out, not even attempting to look at the laptop screen in front of you, instead solely focused on your best friend beside you, so desperate to cum, you began to roll your hips down every time his fingers plunged into you.

“Yeah? You’re feeling really good now, aren’t you, Y/N? Now that you’re nice and full? Just look at you, baby…You can’t help but fuck yourself dumb on my fingers, huh?” Wooyoung looked like the monster from the movie now, eyes full of hunger, like he was ready to eat you up.

“Uh-huh, uh-huhhh…” Just as your sounds of pleasure began to crescendo, your mind growing cloudier by the second, pulling at the sheets below you because you were right there, Wooyoung ceased his movement completely, leaving you high and dry. “No, please, don’t stop, please…!”

Wooyoung gave you a look of indifference, much like a cat that suddenly wasn’t interested in playtime anymore. “Show me your tits. Maybe then I’ll make you cum.”

Desperate for your best friend’s attention and touch, you slowly rolled your tank top up until your tits spilled out, tears pricking at your eyes. How did you get here? Why did Wooyoung’s deliciously dark gaze successfully distract you from the paralyzing shame you felt? Or is that what made you wet? The way you were slutting yourself out for your best friend while the other was sleeping right next to you? “Please make me cum, Y-Youngie…”

“Fuck, you’re so cute, come here.” Now, Wooyoung was on top of you, leaving as much of his saliva on your tits as possible, squeezing one when he was noisily sucking on the other, his dilated eyes never leaving your teary ones. “Can I fuck you, Y/N? I’ll make you cum, I promise…I need to be inside you, baby, please, you’re so fucking hot…” Desperate for release, Wooyoung lowered his sweatpants until his heavy cock dropped onto your bare cunt, rubbing himself along it, making your mind grow that much more empty. “Just the tip, okay? That’s okay, yeah?”

Before you knew it, you were nodding, and just like that, he was inside you, your best friend, using you like a cocksleeve. Wooyoung was ramming his cock into your cunt like he was trying to knock you up. “That’s a good slut, fuckkk, taking me so well…” You tried to moan, to speak, to say anything, but you couldn’t, not with the way his tongue suddenly went down your throat.

All you could do was cling onto Wooyoung, your nails digging into his skin when it felt like the tip of his cock was pounding into your cervix, almost growing dizzy. When you heard your best friend groaning about how he was getting ready to fuck you full of his cum, you gasped, unable to talk, short, broken moans being punched out of you each time Wooyoung slammed himself into you, your thighs hooking around his waist once his hot load began to pour into you. It was then that you turned your head just in time to realize Mingi was watching you intently, his plush lips parted just enough to let drool slip past, catching onto the way that something was moving rapidly underneath the comforter somewhere near his abdomen.

“Told you she would put out, didn’t I, Min?” Wooyoung mused smugly, fucking you through the orgasm that tore through your used body, using your bruised hips like handlebars as he did so.

“You were so right, Woo, so, so right,” Mingi sighed out, tossing his head back into the pillow behind him, leaving a few watery cumshots on the inside of your comforter and his hand.

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to cum again, instead just trying to catch your breath, hiding your face underneath one of your wrists, at least until Wooyoung pulled it down and made you look at the both of them.

“You’ll let Mingi have a turn, won’t you, Y/N? It’s only fair, right?”

Mingi nodded in agreement, before leaning in, licking across his teeth. “Having my cock inside your little used cunt next will make another good ‘distraction’, don’t you think?”

Even though the credits were rolling on the laptop behind them, the monsters hadn’t left. They were right there in front of you, waiting for your permission to ravage you. You couldn’t help but nod. They were your best friends, after all.

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

general taglist: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @baguette-atiny @lvnderhazes @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @ja3hwa @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez fanfic #jung wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #kpop smut

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mggslover · 2 months ago

Text

Stuck

In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.

Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play Word count: 5,4k A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is 🤭 I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!

“Oh, you guys are such babies!” You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how they’ve been stuck in one before.

“It’s not funny, Y/N,” Spencer chimes in. “There are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. “See!” You exclaim. “Hotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. We’ll be fine.” You add cheerfully.

“You’re coming?” Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms.

You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. “It made the same sound the last time!” You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering.

“Not again!” Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s about to fall to his death at any given moment.

Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. “It seems like the electricity went out…”

“Actually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,” Spencer interjects. “It could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-“

“Let’s just solve this problem, shall we?” You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel.

“You think that’ll do something?” Morgan asks, brow lifted.

“It will alert someone that we’re stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.” Hotch adds.

“Well at least I’ll be missing my meeting with Strauss,” I sigh in relief.

“It was at twelve, right?” Spencer asks.

“Yeah,” you respond with a nod.

“Statistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,” Spencer continues, checking his watch. “That means you could still make it in time.”

“Now that’s just what I wanted to hear,” you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan.

“We can only hope we won’t be in here for that long,” Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors.

“Okay… so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?”

“No, no cases please,” Morgan groans. “We’ve had three in a row. I’m done.”

“Morgan is right. We’ve done enough cases in the past few days.” Hotch agrees.

You mutter an “alright” as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer.

“So Reid, I’m sure you’ve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.”

Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. “Well, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,” you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. “The first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.” You hum in interest. “They used lifts in the Colosseum, right?”

“Yes! Exactly!” he responds excitedly. “The system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!”

“Oh come on,” Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. “You’re telling me you’re actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?”.

Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derek’s skepticism.

“Derek Morgan…” you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. “Don’t act like I’m not curious about knowledge. At least Spence’s got something interesting to say.”

Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense.

“Hey, I know facts too,” Morgan says smugly. “How about there being 7000 languages in the world today.”

“The overall number is actually closer to 8000,” Spencer corrects him. “You only counted verbal communication.”

“You guys are going to have a facts competition now?” You ask, bewildered. “It’s way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.”

“I agree,” Hotch mutters. “It is getting a little warm.”

You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. There’s a brief silence before Reid speaks up again.

“I never thought I’d be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,” he muses. “It’s a little cliché.”

“Cliche, how?” Hotch asks, intrigued despite himself.

“You know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?”

You shake your head in confusion, “I think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,” you laugh.

Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile.

“I should’ve known you’ve only watched the dirty ones,” Derek teases.

“What about you, pretty boy? Ever seen a dirty movie?” He asks Spencer, grinning.

Reid looks flustered. “I grew up in Vegas… I’ve seen some things.”

“Ah, Vegas,” you say, sighing dreamily. “The place where you can’t drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.”

Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sounds like my kind of place.”

You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing.

“What about you, Hotch? What’s your favorite dirty movie?” You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look.

“Watch it, Y/L/N.” Hotch warns.

“Come on, Hotch,” Derek says. “Let loose a little!”

“See it as the universe’s sign.” I press on.

“How is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?” Hotch asks, brows raised.

“Well, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,” you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes.

To everyone’s surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you.

You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. You’re glad he joined you, but it’s hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you.

“How long has it been?” you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. “I’m starting to sweat.”

“Thirty-five minutes so far,” Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself.

Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face.

“You guys should take your jackets off,” you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch.

You don’t need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away.

“Oh, she’s enjoying the view, alright,” Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.

“Shut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.”

Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, “Look at that, Hotch. You’re surprising us all today. First you smile and now you’re taking your jacket off. What’s next, dancing a jig?” You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morgan’s teasing but can’t help a small smile from appearing on his lips.

Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. “Here, let me help you”, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You don’t know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.

“Now it’s your turn, you’re the one who insisted,” Morgan states, and you can’t help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.

“I’ll open up some buttons too, if you don’t mind,” you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You don’t give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, “Now that’s a nice view.”

“You’re insufferable,” you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morgan’s eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like they’re struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed.

He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect you’re having on them. “You know, you’re driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.”

You let out a small huff, “Give me a break. You’re wearing shortsleeves, I’m the one wearing a blouse.”

Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. “That blouse does seem a bit warm.”

“Thank you!” You say, glad someone is on your side.

Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace that’s hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away.

“Let’s just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fair”, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension that’s driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal.

“All our shirts, are you sure about that?” Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Then at least you won’t eye me like that.”

“Oh, I think I’ll eye you only more.” Derek teases, licking his lips.

“Just take your damn shirt off.”

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.” He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. It’s a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ‘nother level.

You’re glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether he’ll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the other’s bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that he’s more affected than he’s letting on.

“Come on, pretty boy. Join the party.” Derek says.

“I’ll go first,” you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencer’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him.

“See, it’s not that hard,” you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you.

“I don’t know about that. You’re making things pretty hard, baby girl.” Morgan comments, making you laugh.

“You’re way too dirty for your own good.”

Morgan grins. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You’re looking mighty tempting right now.”

You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. “You’ll feel a lot cooler, I promise,” you encourage.

“I don’t know. I’m not as… toned as the others.” It hurts you to hear how he’s comparing himself to his colleagues.

“Do you truly think I care about that?” You ask him. “It’s not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,” you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others.

“Not too bad, pretty boy. You’re looking pretty good without that vest on.” Derek compliments.

“You do,” You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, “Yeah, that does feel better.”

You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,” you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension that’s impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and that’s when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotch’s fingers caressing your arm.

You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable.

His voice is low and husky, “You're all worked up, sweetheart. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. “I’m not the only one,” you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like he’s been caught staring at your chest. “Don’t be shy, genius,” Derek teases. “We’re all thinking the same thing right now.” You can’t help but smile at Spencer’s flustered look. “It’s… It’s hard not to, when you-” He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts.

Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. “We’ve been stuck in here long enough. I think it’s safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.” The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought that’s been occupying everyone’s mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like he’s touching you.

“Guess it’s only fair if we all just… give in to it,” you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood.

From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles.

“You’re always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,” Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you.

“I- I don’t know about this…” Spencer stammers.

Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. “Don’t worry Reid, she’s enjoying it.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck.

Morgan grins, “Let me show you how sure I am,” he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are.

“See Reid, she loves it,” Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.

“Let me see,” Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch.

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?,” Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. “Just been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.” You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit.

Spencer’s eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just can’t understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while they’ve been teasing him the entire time.

“You can come here Spence,” you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as he’s close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds you’re making as you’re being touched all over.

“Can I-?” You don’t let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand.

“Thank you,” you whisper back. It’s ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.

Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. “Don’t do that. I like the way you sound.” Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you.

Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud.

You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencer’s swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you haven’t experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time.

“Morgan, is she ready?” Hotch asks, breathing heavily.

“More than ready, sir,” Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing.

“I need you for myself,” he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you.

“Oh my god… I feel so full,” you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that he’s not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass.

“You’re doing okay there, princess?” Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.

“You feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?” You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement.

“I don’t understand Y/N. You’re a big girl, use your words.”

“Oh god…’’ Your head spins as he pounds into you. “I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.” He orders.

“Yes!’’ you cry out. ‘’God yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.”

“Say my name again.” He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. “Aaron, please… I’m so, so close.” He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. “I’m almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.”

You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You can’t take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.

You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as you’re still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencer’s sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness.

“Yeah. I feel really, really good.” You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask sensually, looking in his eyes.

“Not really,” he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. “It’s not like I don’t want you to! I’d- I’d love you to do…”, he’s not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. “Whatever you would do. I just-,” his voice softens, meeting your gaze. “I really need to know what you taste like.”

Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. “Okay,” you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. You’re amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“Feels good,” you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. He’s sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you.

Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesn’t look like he’s touched himself.

“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.” You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derek’s pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. “Fuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.” You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like it’s wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.

His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements.

Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit.

“Don’t get distracted, baby girl,” Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper down your throat.

“Fuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,” he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue.

Spencer’s dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencer’s tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer can’t keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him.

You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derek’s dick pops out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Spence?” You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. “Sorry,” you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.

“Oh god…” You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that you’re making. You lazily tug on Derek’s cock, too distracted by Spencer’s tongue.

“Oh Spencer, I’m going to cum,” you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back.

“I’m not gonna last that much longer,” Derek announces, who’s been stroking himself to your orgasm. “Come here, then,” you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.

“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m going to cum!” He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks.

“Fuck… You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath.

“Who the hell is in there?”

The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyone’s heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.

“This is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. I’m stuck here with three of my agents.”

The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didn’t you morons use the emergency button?"

Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.

"Hey, don’t look at me! I’m the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense.

The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."

You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’

"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"

The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I’ve been working here for six months. Don’t blame me because you can’t read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."

You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head.

Derek notices how Spencer’s been unusually quiet. “Speak up, kid,” he urged.

“I’ve known what the buttons do the entire time,” he says, voice casual.

You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. “What?!” You both exclaim at the same time.

Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.”

Derek’s mouth drops open. “You’ve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didn’t say anything?!”

Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. “It’s a team-building exercise,” he says matter-of-factly. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”

You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Reid.”

As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.

2K notes · View notes

angelfic · 1 year ago

Text

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it��s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott

11K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 3 months ago

Text

A Decade Of Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as you and charles celebrate ten years together, take a look at a snapshot of your social media for each one of those years

pairing: charles x childhood sweetheart!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2015

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 4,859 others

ynusername: turns out dating a racing car driver doesn’t stop him being a sickeningly sweet boyfriend too 💕🥺

797 comments

username1: I can’t get over how much of a sweetheart charles is 😭

charles_leclerc: you’re not supposed to expose this side of me to the rest of the world ❤️

username2: the little note on the coffee cup, I can’t-

pierregasly: I refuse to believe that charles managed to make a meal that delicious 🙂‍↔️

username3: now that is a man who suits racing gear!!

georgerussell63: this screams like an apology for ignoring you for the entire weekend whilst racing 🤷🏻‍♂️

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 not a single damn text 😭

username4: why do I get the feeling we’re going to be seeing these two in many racing paddocks in the future??

arthur_leclerc: can you have a word please? he’s not this nice to me 💔

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc isn’t that the job of a brother?? 😂

username5: officially decided that I need to find myself a charles leclerc to love me 😂

alex_albon: stop showing off how lovely your boyfriend is 🙄

username6: wishing I had a guy to bring me breakfast in bed too…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2016

liked by alex_albon, nyckdevries and 37,953 others

charles_leclerc: the most chaotic year…gp3 series 🏆 ferrari academy ✅ haas test driver 🏎️…so excited to see what the future holds now!

3,969 comments

username7: can’t believe the progress you’ve made this year charles, we’re so proud of you!!

alex_albon: now you’re just showing off with all these achievements 😂👏🏻

username8: a season that most could only dream of 👏🏻

ynusername: could not be prouder of you…only upwards from here 🥳

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername thank you for constantly dealing with me stressing this year 😂❤️

username9: ferrari are the luckiest team in the world to have you ❤️🏎️

nyckdevries: an honour to share the track with you this year ☺️

username10: counting down the days until we inevitably see you in f1 now… 🤞🏻

scuderiaferrari: we’re so excited to have you on board charles, congratulations on a brilliant season!

username11: I hope you’ve got a bigger trophy cabinet at home 😂

pierregasly: I’m so proud to see you achieving your dreams brother!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2017

liked by landonorris, ynusername and 68,492 others

charles_leclerc: such an incredible season, so proud to be the formula 2 champion. thank you to the amazing team who have supported me this year and all my family and friends for making so many sacrifices for me too ❤️🏎️

15,942 comments

username12: speechless, so unbelievably proud of you charles ❤️

pierregasly: can’t wait to see you show them how it��s done next year 🥺

username13: shut up the face on the first photo melts me…

ynusername: you never fail to blow me away with how talented you are 💕💕

username14: such an insane driver, f1 has no idea what’s about to hit it 🏎️

arthur_leclerc: okay, I’ll admit it, it’s pretty cool being able to say that you’re my brother 🙄

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc I knew you loved me really

arthur_leclerc: @/charles_leclerc let’s not get ahead of ourselves here 😂

username15: one incredible season, enjoy your rest as you deserve it 😘

alex_albon: such a joy to share the track with you again this year, good luck for next year buddy 🏆

charles_leclerc: @/alex_albon ik you’ll be there to join me soon enough!

username16: will f2 ever see a more dominant champion in its existence than you?? (no is the answer btw)

landonorris: at least you’re going one of us might have a chance next year 😂

username17: still not over how amazing this season has been, I can’t stop crying 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2018

liked by arthur_leclerc, lancestroll and 13,960 others

ynusername: spend half my time lost around the paddock 😂 but I’m so proud to watch you achieve your dreams charles (even if I can only wave to you from the other side of the garage!!)

3,078 comments

username18: I can’t believe the guy I supported in go karts all those years ago is in f1 🥹

arthur_leclerc: we can be lost together soon enough 😂

username19: yn you must be so proud of your man!

maxverstappen1: it’s been so nice to see you again recently and catch up after all these years!!

username20: thank you for being by his side for all these years ❤️

charles_leclerc: I love having you here with me for so many races, thank you for always supporting me 💞

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i wouldn’t have it any other way ☺️

username21: girl I feel you, I went to one f1 race and spent most of it staring at a map 😂

pierregasly: I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve found you lost this year 😝

ynusername: @/pierregasly no one prepares you for how much busier f1 is compared to f2…

username22: it must be amazing to get to see f1 up close and personal like this

landonorris: I won’t be coming to you for directions when I join next year then 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris got no idea where mclaren is half the time anyway 🙈

username23: I bet charles is just happy to have you there, we all know how much he adores you!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2019

liked by lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari and 289,694 others

charles_leclerc: dreamt of this moment for so long, officially an f1 winner, don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing that 🏎️🏆

59,491 comments

ynusername: I’ve just about managed to pull myself together 😂 so proud of you my love 💓

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername thank you for always cheering me on even when I’ve doubted myself ☺️

username24: we’re all so proud of you charles, we knew you could do it!!

maxverstappen1: good job my friend, we’ve talked about this for so long and now it’s finally come true 🏆

username25: fyi I will not get over this for a very long time 🎉

sebastianvettel: congratulations partner, the first of many for sure 🍻

username26: I’m not sorry for how emotional I’ve been all day about this win

alex_albon: knowing how hard you’ve worked, there’s no one more deserving of this 👏🏻

username27: is there a more deserving man in f1? no, I think not.

scuderiaferrari: we couldn’t be prouder to have you on our team charles 🏎️

charles_leclerc: @/scuderiaferrari thank you to the whole team here and at home for all their hard work ❤️

username28: your dad would be so proud of you today charles ❤️

username29: I’ll remind you that you’re an f1 race winner everyday forever 🫶🏻

landonorris: thank goodness there were no “inchidents” in the race to ruin things 😂

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2020

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 429,707 others

charles_leclerc: missing all the fam right now, and wishing I could get back behind the wheel - lucky for yn tho as she’s stuck with me 😂🫶🏻

69,402 comments

scuderiaferrari: we all can’t wait to be back and enjoying race weekends too ❤️🏎️

username30: how is it fair for a family to look as good as these guys??

ynusername: it’s cute that you think I’m lucky with your ass annoying me constantly 😂

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername I can expose your habits too if that’s a challenge???

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc I’m sorry I love living with you sweetie 🥺

username31: so pleased you and yn have each other during these uncertain times 🫶🏻

username32: can’t wait to see you hopefully back around the track once everything is safe again

arthur_leclerc: I miss you guys so much, hopefully not too much longer until we’re reunited ❤️

username33: please make sure you stay safe charles 🙏🏻

username34: I bet poor yn is being driven insane living with charles 24/7 😂

pierregasly: offended that I wasn’t included in this post…

charles_leclerc: @/pierregasly dedicated post just to you incoming…

username35: idk how much longer I can cope without f1 in my life 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2021

liked by carmenmmundt, sebastianvettel and 97,592 others

ynusername: drove me all the way out to the middle of nowhere to ask me to marry him, easiest yes of my life 🥺🥂

26,942 comments

carmenmmundt: stfu I’m so unbelievably happy for you both ❤️❤️❤️

username36: I cannot begin to tell you how happy this post makes me!!!

carlossainz55: might’ve just shed a tear when I saw this post 🥲

charles_leclerc: no one else I’d want to spend the rest of my life with, I love you darling 💞

username37: he finally did it my faves are engaged ahhhhh

username38: is it acceptable to cry over someone else’s engagement btw???

landonorris: wedding of the century pending…⏳

arthur_leclerc: couldn’t be happier to finally be welcoming a sister into the family 🫶🏻

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc and just so you know you’re definitely in my top two when it comes to brothers in law 😂

alex_albon: congratulations you two, lily and I could not be happier for you ✨

username39: wish I was a fly on the wall during the conversations as to who best man is gonna be 😂

pierregasly: he’s talked about doing this for so long, glad he’s finally done it 😍

username40: all my manifesting has finally paid off 🙏🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2022

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 1,593,068 others

charles_leclerc: taking us back to the place a year ago when I asked my best friend to marry me, still the best decision of my life 💞🌊

104,856 comments

username41: charles is such an old school romantic I love it

ynusername: still just as special as it was the first time around 🤍

maxverstappen1: please tell me you didn’t actually let charles be the one in charge of that boat 🤦🏻‍♂️

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 I promise it was somehow returned in one piece

username42: and he still looks as happy as he did a year ago too 🥺

pierregasly: offended that you somehow think you’re his best friend 🤯

arthur_leclerc: @/pierregasly me too, cause obviously that’s my role and not yours 😉

georgerussell63: he’s just a hopeless romantic isn’t he 😅

username43: not all the boys just rinsing charles for being in love lmao

landonorris: if anyone wants an example of a soft fiancé…here you go!

carlossainz55: I’m just here cause I’m enjoying watching charles get wrecked in the comments 😂

username34: 🍿🍿🍿

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2023

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 294,608 others

ynusername: best day of my life 💍💒

48,492 comments

carmenmmundt: thank you for inviting george and I to be part of your special day 💕

username35: these photos are the definition of STUNNING ✨

danielricciardo: please tell me charles managed to make it home in one piece??

ynusername: @/danielricciardo he’s currently crying about how hungover he is 😂

alex_albon: couldn’t be happier for two of my favourite people in the entire world ❤️

username36: can we pause for a second cause charles has officially taken my breath away

sebastianvettel: congratulations, you look absolutely beautiful yn!!

charles_leclerc: I love you, can’t wait for forever with you 🥂

username37: I always knew charles would look good in a suit but damn I was not prepared for this

lewishamilton: arguably the best wedding I’ve ever been to, such a lovely day 🫶🏻

username38: I can’t wait to see the rest of the photos after seeing these!!

landonorris: I think I’ve just about stopped crying now 😭

kellypiquet: without shadow of a doubt the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen 🤍

username39: don’t think I’m gonna be over these for a long time…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2024

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 2,605,638 others

charles_leclerc: don’t think this will sink in for a while, thank you to everyone who supported me in monaco this weekend!! so proud to finally win my home race, now to celebrate in style 🎉🏎️

285,047 comments

username40: all the hard work has finally paid off…king of monaco ❤️

ynusername: don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of you in 10 years, lifelong dream accomplished 💞👑

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you’re the best, couldn’t have got here without you ❤️

carlossainz55: couldn’t be happier for you, I know just how much this means to you!

username41: we’re all so proud of you charles, congratulations on an incredible win

arthur_leclerc: after so many near misses, it just makes this all the more sweeter brother 🏎️🏁

username42: no one prepares you for the emotion of charles winning monaco wtf 😭😭

pierregasly: the one you’ve always dreamt of, so glad it came true!!

maxverstappen1: enjoy the celebrations tonight, you so deserve this!

username43: my heart is still racing, feel like im in some sort of dream…

landonorris: don’t think that smile will be leaving your face for a while 😂

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris just me trying to fight back the tears 🥹

username44: no one can take this moment from you charles, soak it all in 🍾

scuederiaferrari: the whole team could not be prouder of you, congratulations charles ❤️🏎️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

2K notes · View notes

tbaluver · 4 months ago

Note

May I request the LaD boys reactions to you sending them a video of you playing with yourself while they're away?

Sending Them A Dirty Video When Their Away- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x fem!Reader, Zayne x fem!Reader, Rafayel x fem!Reader, Sylus x fem! Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content, masturbation ( all ) , facetime sex ( Rafayel ) a/n: hi anonnie! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading! i'm suppose to be doing a quiz and studying right now but i wanted to finish writing this hehe any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He was so lucky to be split from his team during his mission when you sent him a video. He thought it would be you winning another plushie at a claw machine but he was so so wrong. It was so much better than that. His teeth sank down into his lips as he watched you stroke yourself with one hand as your other grabbed your breasts. He feels like he could cum right now, his cheeks a dark shade of pink as he watches your video on repeat.

𖠌: ( ´ཀ` )

𖠌: not fair angel

He sends that as he fights the urge to relieve the tension in his pants. He makes sure to check his surroundings that nobody was nearby before pulling out his throbbing cock, slowly stroking it while he holds his phone with his other hand.

“n-need to hear you angel, please”

He breathes heavily into his voice message that he sent you, speaking as softly as he can to avoid being caught. You call him immediately after he sends that, your sultry tone invading his ears, “cum for me my sweet boy” Multiple images of you invade his mind. Images of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock and your pretty eyes looking up at him like he’s the most important person in the world. How he swirled his tongue around one of your buds as he pinched your other nipples, rolling them around between his pointer finger and his thumb. He bucks his hips into his fist, spilling warm white trails down his length.

𖠌: i’ll make this mission quick

𖠌: need to see you

Zayne:

Zayne was away for a couple days for another research project and you missed him so much.

You’d send him a video, angling to show you wearing his favorite lingerie, slowly remove the thin clothing to tease him. You’d cup your breasts and roll your sensitive nipples between your fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as your mouth slowly starts to part.

When Zayne glanced down at his phone and saw the notification of a video from you, he immediately knew you were up to something mischievous. He had to excuse him and retreat back to his room to watch the video you sent. He’d suck in his breath and just groan at the sight, wishing and wanting to fuck you senseless.

☃︎: must you always do this to me when i’m away?

You’d send him another video, alone and naked in that big empty bed. His eyes tracked every movement of your body on his phone. One hand gripping his phone as he closely examines how your hand slipped in between your legs. How you whined for him and how much you missed him.

His jaw clenches, springing his stiff cock free as he replayed the video over and over again. He starts to pump his cock slowly, wanting to be inside of your tight and soaking cunt so bad. Zayne’s mind only clouds with how much you’d cream around his cock or how your mouth or hands feel so much better than his hands. You're the only thing on his mind as he watches the video on repeat. Your fingers pulsing in and out of your pussy, becoming wetter from your own arousal. He imagines it's your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him.

“h-hah-” He throws his head back against the seat as he fists his cock harder, tightening the grip until thick streaks of his cum leak out of him. He raises the phone and sends you a quick photo of the mess you caused.

☃︎: don’t think that i don’t miss you too.

☃︎: when we reunite, i’ll gladly help you get off.

Rafayel:

You’re so mean for sending him a video when he was out for an art exhibition tour in a different country. Anytime you two were apart, he was always needy and seeing a couple seconds of your video with your legs spread wide open and two fingers sinking in and out of your cunt and whining his name, made him almost whine on the spot.

𓆟: ( ｡ • ᴖ • ｡) you’re so mean to me

𓆟: gimme one sec cutie

He would try to find a way to slip out of the art exhibition and find himself back into his hotel room that was nearby. He’d put his phone on mute so Thomas doesn’t bother spam calling or texting him.

𓆟: you know i can’t do this, i need you

He facetime called you in less than a minute before he sent that message

He moves to prop the camera up so you can see the full view of him unbuttoning his top slowly, teasing you as he exposes his muscular chest. He then reaches for the buttons on his pants before hooking his fingers into his waistband and lifting his waist to pull it down. His cock springs free and hits against his lower abdomen, his eyes locking in on you. You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his muscles, lingering at the bulge until it was fully released from his trousers. His smirks in amusement to see your mouth parted open hungrily and needy just at the sight of him.

“You should close your mouth cutie, you might catch some flies in there.”

You both adjust the camera angles to ensure you both have a complete view of one another before beginning

Gently you rub circles over your clit, trying to mimic how he would with his pretty fingers. It drives you mad, making you bite your lips as you moan his name loudly. You drag out his name, your pussy desperately trying to clench onto something as you reel your head back in pleasure. Increasing the speed until you start to match the sound of his fist pumping his cock over the phone.

“want you soso bad” He whines, pumping faster with the sounds of your cunt squelching in the background makes him throb. “cum with me raf” your sultry voice drove him mad, cursing under his breath as he felt his seed leaking from his tip. He knows you’re close as gasps escape your mouth and how he watches the coil in your stomach snap, gushing your juices around your fingers. “‘s pretty. can’t wait to come home and fill that pretty hole.”

Sylus:

Sylus was away for an important auction. Despite it being important, nothing truly captivated him, his thoughts were solely on coming back home to you. His eyebrows quirked in amusement when he saw a notification of a video you had sent him. He excused himself letting Luke and Kieran handle the matters in their own hands as he made his way back upstairs in his hotel room.

𓅪: showing me what i’m missing princess?

He smirks once he opens your video, arousal washing over him, entertained by seeing the angle of your perky tits bouncing and his favorite pussy that was sobbing and clenching just for him. The way you moaned and panted just for him was music to his ears.

Before you could send him another video, he was already quick to reply with one of his own.

“Is this what you expected, princess?”

He flashes a smirk to the camera before lowering it to show his shirt slightly lifted to give you a glimpse of his sculpted abs and his long fingers wrapped around his cock, his tip crimson as he slowly strokes it. Small groans flutter through his lips when he fists over the tip.

“all just for you princess.”

He says in the video, pre-cum dripping down his length and his muscles flexing on his stomach from the perfect angle he had. Your fingers were so deep into you, pounding relentlessly into your pussy. You replay the video again and again, watching him stroke his cock harder and you can taste your sweet release. Once you feel the heat pooling to your throbbing cunt, you make sure to send it to him. This time instead of a video, he sends a voice message, “did my princess cum thinking about me? i wish you were here, i need my pretty girl.”

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flowersforbucky · 6 months ago

Text

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina.

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact.

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying.

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns.

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again.

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows.

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.”

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone.

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself.

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall.

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good.

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face.

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing.

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway.

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.”

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off.

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.”

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?”

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps?

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse.

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other.

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step.

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help.

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight.

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island.

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.”

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–”

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.”

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin.

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.”

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth.

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled.

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress?

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen.

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically?

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message.

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away.

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear.

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you.

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit.

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page.

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..”

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–”

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face.

Oh. Not a joke, then.

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom.

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed.

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.”

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.”

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you.

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?”

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.”

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier.

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking.

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.”

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating.

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow.

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach.

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear.

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.”

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended.

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you.

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused.

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis.

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top.

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin.

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.”

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow.

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table.

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand.

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator.

“How the fuck did you–”

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?”

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on.

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both.

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit.

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator.

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back.

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy?

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction.

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face.

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.”

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts.

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much.

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly.

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties.

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed.

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle.

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs.

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you.

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you).

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears.

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.”

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic

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fireinmoonshot · 5 months ago

Text

the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts.

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder.

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate.

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased.

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research.

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder.

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot.

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others.

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.”

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing.

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.”

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on.

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck.

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries.

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you.

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.”

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door.

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore.

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.”

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange.

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself.

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide.

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are.

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before.

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain.

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes.

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

#twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #tyler owens fanfic

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pedrospatch · 9 months ago

Text

flutter

Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

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rafesangelita · 8 months ago

Note

rafe + overstim

warnings: overstimulation, unprotected sex

“don’t close your legs now, you were just begging for this shit.” rafe yanked you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, a soft protest leaving your lips once he lined himself up with your entrance. “wait, y-you can’t,” you were still trembling from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, “m’too sensitive, ‘hurts rafe.” you nearly cried when he started stroking your clit with the throbbing head of his cock. “it hurts?” he taunted, “did you think about it hurting when you were acting like a fucking brat in front of my family earlier?” rafe pushed the tip in, your body jolting in response.

“wanna grab my dick under the table but act all sweet and innocent like you’re some kind of saint. if only everyone knew how much of a cock slut you really are.” he shook his head, slamming into your cunt with a groan. you yelped, hands flying out to grab ahold of his wrists. this wasn’t the first time rafe fucked you when you were overstimulated, but the feeling was still unbearable, your hips moving in an attempt to pull away from him. he grabbed you by the curves of your waist, holding you down as you writhed in both pleasure and pain. “fuck- please, i won’t do it again.” tears were running down your cheeks now.

rafe scoffed. “of course you are, you know why?” he leaned down, “because you love this, ‘love being manhandled and forced to cum even though you whine and say no.” you let out a shaky breath, your mouth falling open in a silent moan when you felt his fingers circle your clit. “is that not true?” he planted a kiss on the tip of your nose, waiting for you to give him the green light to keep up his ministrations. as soon as a ‘yes.’ slipped past your lips, rafe was merciless on your cunt, torturing your bundle of nerves as he fucked into you like there was no tomorrow.

you lost all ability to hold yourself up, your elbows collapsing from underneath you. “you’re doing so good, baby. ‘think you can give me three more?” he smiled down at the dazed expression on your face. three more? surely you’d pass out by then. when you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching, you couldn’t help your thighs from shaking around his waist. “rafe, i-i’m gonna cum..” spots dotted your vision as you fell over the edge, your eyes screwing shut when you felt that band in your stomach snap. rafe shushed you, still holding you in place when your thighs threatened to close around his hand.

“try to move away again and i’ll make the next one so much worse.” he said through gritted teeth. even though rafe was close himself, he enjoyed seeing just how fucked-out he could make you. “too much!” you squeaked. taking your lips with his own, he stopped working on your clit, slowly thrusting into you so you could feel a small sense of relief. “are you okay?” he met your starry gaze. blinking slowly, you nodded. “good, because we’re not done yet.”

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fairyofshampgyu · 6 months ago

Text

☆ Me? Pegged?!

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

Pairing: college bf ! beomgyu x dom ! fem reader

Warnings: pegging, soft sex, sub beomgyu, dom reader, fluff, male masturbation, mentions of porn, anal fingering, use of strap on, hand job, hand holding during sex, beomgyu cries but bc he’s emotional lolol, use of petnames ‘puppy’, ‘baby’, gendered term, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ and afab, disgustingly fluffy

synopsis: your skeptical boyfriend gets pegged for the first time <3 To say the least he definitely enjoys it a lot more than he expected.

word count: 2.8k

“What? Like, in my ass?” Beomgyu, splutters eyebrows raised and asking in a hushed tone, looking cautiously left to right seemingly embarrassed. Although, you were a little confused what he was looking for, given you were both inside his dorm room…and the only people in there.

His demeanour, a total whiplash to a few moments prior when he had very proudly won the fighting game you both were playing together.

“Well, yeah in your ass.” You deadpan at him. “It’s called pegging. It’s just something I think could be fun for us to try and share together and I want to make you feel good! But it’s okay if you don’t want to-”

“No! I’ll-I can try. For you. I’ve just-I’ve never really thought of it before. It seems…intense...” Beomgyu looks down with a pout, fiddling with his thumbs, legs crossed on his bed.

“Gyu,” You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch almost instantly, looking back up at you, practically purring at the nickname and your gesture, “if you’re not comfortable with it we won’t. We don’t have to just because I want to. I just wanted to know your thoughts on it. ”

Beomgyu was always an open minded person when it came to sex, always down to try things at least once. Both of you were pretty compatible in that sense, easily bored when things were kept the same. You liked how experimental and open he was with you.

Beomgyu rubs at the back of his head and nods slowly, still looking skeptical. “I want to try it with you. I trust you. But, I just don’t think I’ll really find it that enjoyable though. I’ll think about it.”

Not that beomgyu would admit to you, but after the topic of pegging was brought up, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It made a strange feeling pool in his stomach, unsure if it was a good or bad thing. Would it even feel good? What would it feel like? It’d probably feel weird right? And the thought of being so vulnerable was a little scary. He knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about with you but it still felt a little too daunting.

To say the least, beomgyu was curious, and many nights contemplating brought him to conduct his own research. Grabbing his laptop, the only light shining in his dark room at the ungodly hours of a thursday night, he went to the only place he knew would have some sort of answers—the internet and he began sheepishly typing into the search bar.

To his surprise, he came across many dudes enthusiastically raving about it on reddit and how it completely changed their view of life—he thinks some of them were being a little bit dramatic.

He also watched a few videos, for research purposes only. He stared at his screen, mouth agape and feeling a flush creep up his neck, cheeks growing increasingly heated at what he sees. Woah. Maybe. This might actually be….

He couldn’t help imagining you doing that to him instead, mind painting vivid pictures of you, imagining your hands on his hips and breath against his neck, being handled like that. It was strangely arousing.

Suddenly beomgyu was squirming in his bed, one hand hesitantly slipping down his grey sweatpants as he bit his bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed as he began embarrassedly and frantically jerking off his now red and hard dick to the thought of you pegging him.

Faster than he thought, beomgyu was cumming heaps with a hand slapped to his mouth to stop himself from loudly moaning out your name (the college walls were very thin. He knew from experience.) and completely making a mess, soiling his sweats with a muffled whimper instead.

He lay there gasping and panting flushed, left to ponder his actions and new found revelation. It was kind of hot? Or maybe it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing. He couldn’t actually find that hot, right?

Fuck.

There wasn’t much beomgyu kept from you, usually he’d be the one to talk your ear off about the most mundane, silliest things of his day as you both cuddled closely together. However, he’d purposefully failed to mention his recent porn search history and the fact that he’s been cumming a heck of a lot faster than he’d like to admit at the thought of his girlfriend fucking him in the ass.

It’s only made him more curious about whether he’d actually like it. There was only one way to find out and that was to just see for himself. So he knew he had to bring it up with you somehow again without sounding like a crazed freak.

You were studying in the library when beomgyu approached you, textbooks spread out in front of you as you furiously typed notes on your laptop. Beomgyu leans in to peck your cheek before taking a seat beside you and you looked up, lifting your headphones from your ears. “Oh you’re studying as well?”

Beomgyu gives you an incredulous look as if it was absolutely outrageous to suggest he’d be doing that. “Um no.” He clears his throat, trying to sound as nonchalant and cool as possible, “so, uh, remember that thing we talked about?”

You furrow your brows unsure of what he was talking about, but given how incredibly embarrassed he looked, you had an inkling of what it might be and you try not to laugh, heavily amused, accidentally saying it bit too loud, “Oh you mean pegging?”

He looks around frantically, eyes wide with panic as he tries to gauge if anyone else had heard, then he hits your arm and shoves you. “You don’t have to be so loud, my god.”

You can see the tips of his cute ears going pink as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to,” chuckling softly, you put your hands up in defence so he wouldn’t shove you again.

Beomgyu just narrows his eyes at you and scoffs, “Yeah, so anyway. I was just thinking, you know, maybe we should actually... give it a try? I mean, if you're still interested," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “So, you’ve been thinking about it?” you teased, leaning in closer. “What changed your mind?”

"Well, I've been doing some, uh, research," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "And, maybe it doesn't sound so bad after all. I mean, I’m not saying I’m dying to try it or anything. But, you know, I’m open to the idea. I guess.”

“Sure, sure,” you say giggling into your textbook. “You guess…”

Beomgyu flicks your forehead playfully, furrowing his brows. “Shut up.”

“Oww!” You rub your forehead soothingly, “We’ll try it soon then, yeah?”

He pretends to think about it, even though his excitement is barely contained. You could practically see his tail wagging and brown puppy eyes lighting up. “Yeah, we could do that.”

Today is the day beomgyu will finally get why a bunch of dudes from reddit are so into being pegged by their girlfriends. Unfortunately for beomgyu though, he was currently stuck in class, wanting more than ever to just be in your dorm, but he had to wait.

The professor's voice drones on, the words blending into a meaningless blur as Beomgyu stole glances at the clock every few seconds. Each tick seemed to echo in his head like a countdown to freedom, and he couldn't help but let out an impatient sigh, mind racing with thoughts of what awaited him once this torturous lecture finally ended.

Meanwhile, you were finding immense amusement in Beomgyu's predicament and you couldn’t help but send him teasing texts during his class to make him even more pathetically desperate.

Beomgyu's eyes widened as he read the message, his cheeks flushing red. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan of frustration. He typed back quickly, fingers fumbling with the keys.

Beom🧸🎸: This is pure evil ! You’re so mean :( 😞💔😪👎

You can’t help giggling, typing back a sarcastic response.

aww what a poor puppy. You’ll just have to wait.

Beom🧸🎸: why can’t I just skip bro🧍‍♂️

You tell him he’s not allowed to skip and that he has to sit through the entirety of it just to torture him some more. Beomgyu pouts, his bottom lip sticking out in a comically exaggerated manner at the text, earning a weird look from Soobin who sat next to him.

Finally, the professor dismisses the class, and Beomgyu practically leaped out his seat, gathering his notebook and laptop and shoving it in his bag in record time. He dashes out of the lecture hall, barely acknowledging soobin’s farewell. Beomgyu’s heart racing as he practically sprinted across campus to your dorm.

When he reached your door, he knocked eagerly, breathing heavily and you swung open the door.

Without a word, Beomgyu pulled you into a passionate kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pressed you against the doorframe. He couldn't wait any longer; the anticipation had built up to an almost unbearable level, and now that he was finally here with you, all he wanted was to feel close to you.

You chuckled softly against his lips, teasingly pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Someone's eager," you run a hand through his tousled hair.

Beomgyu grins, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as he stares down at you with half lidded eyes. "Can you blame me? You’ve been torturing me!" He pouts, staring down at your lips before kissing you again.

You’ve been meticulously prepping beomgyu for god knows how long now, but you wanted to make absolute sure that he was stretched out well so you wouldn’t hurt him one bit.

His soft, breathy moans fill the room as your lubed fingers slide in and out of his cute, pink hole repeatedly. He seemed to like it so far, each gentle movement makes him cling tighter to the pink silk pillow pressed against his chest, hugging it with his eyes blissfully closed, legs spread wide as he lay on your bed.

“Do you think you’re ready, baby?”

He opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with a needy look, and cutely nods, taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah- please.. I want you noww..”

You give him a weary glance. “I don’t want to hurt you though.”

Beomgyu shakes his head softly, still hugging the pink silk pillow tightly, even if he’s a little nervous, he desperately wants to feel you. He swallows, looking directly into your eyes and whines. “I’ll be fine. pleasee”

Sighing, you step into the harness of the strap-on (you’d made sure to order the cutest and prettiest one you saw online), coating the silicone in generous amounts of lube before returning back to beomgyu on the bed.

You gently place his dainty ankles over your shoulders, kissing on his inner thighs and pretty white sock clad legs and ankles as you do so.

You can’t stop staring in awe. Heart swelling up at the sight of beomgyu, fluffy messy hair splayed around his face, long thick eyelashes kissing his rose dusted cheeks, slightly chewing at his plump bottom limp as he braces himself. He’s so precious. How fucking gorgeous this boy is.

You kiss his ankles a few more times, one hand going to his cute tummy that heaved and you slowly push the silicone cock into his now glistening from all the lube, swollen, puffy pink hole, ever so slowly easing in, inch by inch and bottoming out.

Beomgyu cries out, hiding his face instantly in his elbow and he arches his back, and mewls.

“You okay, puppy?”, you coo and gently move his arm out the way so you can look at his pretty face and parted lips, stilling your movements and softly brushing the bangs out his eyes.

Beomgyu shakily nods, trembling. “Mmh. m’ okay. You can keep going.”

Loud high pitched strangled moans escape his lips as you pick up the pace. It’s a new feeling and it takes him some time to get used to. Beomgyu was always loud and would make the prettiest moans ever anyway, but there was something so different at how he moaned right now, completely guttural and different to how they usually were. Even he was surprised, clamping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment but he just couldn’t stop the noises at all even if he tried, loud whines and whimpers continuing unabated. You loved them so much.

You watch his poor, neglected cock slap his tummy with every thrust, red and hard and dribbling beads at the head constantly. You take his dick in your hand, stroking it at the same movement and fucking him harder.

He gasps shuddering and writhing, his fingers curling into the sheets. "Oh... that feels...," he manages to say, interrupted by whines and moans, mouth in a cute ‘o’ shaped, completely dumb and fucked out by now he can barely think, and he moans your name over and over. A cascade of mewls spilling from his lips, a sweet symphony that fills the room.

You lean down to press his swollen lips with yours, moving your mouth against him so messily and needy, making out with him so intensely as you carried on fucking his hole. You’re sure you’re hitting his prostate by now.

Beomgyu disconnects from your lips to pant, a string of saliva connecting from his and your mouth and reaches his hand out to yours “Hold…” He whimpers out, eyebrows furrowed and you gladly grab his hand, intertwining your hand with his and holding hands as you peg him, anchoring him. Your other free hand still continuing your ministrations on his cock, kissing him again. It seems you’ve pegged him completely into subspace.

"gonna cum soon... I can'ttt... it's too much!” Beomgyu chokes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he completely shakes.

You suddenly heard choked sobs and sniffling coming from beomgyu. Alarmed, you paused for a moment, worried that maybe you had hurt him. His face was buried in the pillow, and his shoulders were trembling with each shaky breath.

“Beomgyu, are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern. You gently eased back, not wanting to cause him any discomfort.

He turned his head to look at you, and your heart ached at the sight before you. His glossy, brown doe eyes were filled with tears, eyelashes clumped together and his bottom lip was jutting out in a pout, making him look devastatingly beautiful, tears streaming down his red cheeks and his hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was such a pretty crier.

“I-I’m okay,” voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. “It’s just... it feels so good. I love you so much.” His tears flowed freely now, each sob wracking his body. You were surprised at how emotional beomgyu had gotten.

You lean down to kiss away his tears, cupping his hot cheeks, “You’re doing so good for me, gyu. I love you too.”

Beomgyu grasps your hand even tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he clings to you so close. His head falls back with every thrust, and he throws his head back as you continue to hit his prostate repeatedly again and again, making him go cross eyed and his jaw slack.

He spurts a copious amount of cum from his cock, making such a mess on the sheets, your hand, and his tummy, cumming so hard his vision goes blurry, and he feels dizzy, his legs shaking uncontrollably. His eyes flutter open and shut, gasping and panting heavily. You pull out and collapse beside him, both of you utterly exhausted.

Beomgyu can conclude, the guys on reddit were so right.

Beomgyu doesn’t let go of you at all afterwards, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his legs and arms around you, clinging to you like a koala contently, breath warm against your skin as you kissed the top of his head.

“I can’t feel my legs.” Beomgyu whines, “Please never mention the crying ever again okay?” He muffles out. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know. Can’t have everyone thinking I’m a crybaby.”

You chuckle, stroking and playing with his soft hair which he loves so much, humming softly at the feeling of your hands on his scalp. “I thought it was very cute.”

He doesn’t say anything and a moment of silence ensues.

“Thank you, baby.” he says gently and quietly, “I’d be eating you out so good right now if I wasn’t so exhausted.” a tired but cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Within seconds, beomgyu was out like a light, his soft snores filling the quiet room, looking so cute absolutely knocked out in your arms.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)

A/n: guys im sorry if this was the shittest thing I’ve ever written. I was really trying !! But I’m Just very out of practice at writing atm 😭 im very sorry if the smut is the most messiest thing you’ve ever read, I have not proofread it at all I have no idea what I was writing. So I’m very sorry

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #beomgyu hard hours #choi beomgyu smut #sub!txt #sub txt #sub beomgyu #sub idol #kpop smut

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imaginedisish · 5 months ago

Text

Savior Complex (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the request I said I'd write. I hope it's what the anon wanted. It's quite long...and maybe a little different than my other Logan works...so I hope you guys enjoy. Inspired (obviously), by "Savior Complex" by Phoebe Bridgers.

Summary: You are willing to give up everything, including your own life, to save your found family. Logan, however, is not willing to let you do that. And he finally shows you why.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!! Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, friends to lovers, hurt to comfort, mutant!reader, omega!mutant!reader, fem!reader/afab!reader, allusions to death, canon typical violence, cursing, likely some grammatical errors, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,549 eeeeeesssshhhh

“Stay down!” Logan yells, his body hunched over yours, shielding you against the trunk of a thick tree.

You try to push him away. “We need to move!” You protest, shoving at him to no avail. He’s more solid than the tree at your back, firm, unwavering. Bullets fly overhead, swishing through the air. You listen to the sounds of triggers clicking and guns cracking. “I need to get out there!”

Logan presses himself further into you, his chest flush with yours. “You are not going anywhere,” he spits, his eyes trained on you. He’s studying every shift in your expression, every twitch in your shoulders and every flinch you make at the firing of a gun in the distance.

“Logan,” you say, trying to stand up straight, to force yourself from his hold. You raise your voice. “I’m going out there, and you are not stopping me.” You brace your hands at your sides, ready to use your powers if necessary. “Now is not the time to be the overbearing, protective friend, okay?”

Logan refuses to let up, unleashing his claws and digging them into the tree on either side of your body, caging you in, trapping you in place. “Well, isn’t that just too bad?” He mutters cockily, that shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Because I’m not going anywhere, princess.”

You swallow, flexing your palms, stretching your fingers down to the ground. “I’ll give you one second to reconsider that decision.”

He laughs, too self-assured for his own good. “And what are you gonna do—”

“Sorry, bub,” you chide, sarcasm heavy in your voice as you interrupt him. “But your second is up.” You shut your eyes, reaching towards the ground. Thin, black shadows—spirits—slip up through the blades of grass, nipping at Logan’s legs, wrapping around his ankles tightly.

He looks down as the shadows pull him away from the tree, his claws slipping from the bark with little to no resistance. More shadows emerge, twirling around his wrists and yanking them down to his sides.

“No!” He protests, thrashing as you step away from him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He cries out, trying his best to break free from the tight hold of the shadows.

“Using my powers,” you say nonchalantly, putting some distance between you and Logan as you step backward. You smile. “Spirit weaving. Started calling it that the other day, actually!” You’re gloating off now, showing off, manipulating the spirits to tighten around him.

You can see the irritation on his face—the fury written across his furrowed brow. “Oh! How cool!” He is far beyond sardonic—his voice a mocking jeer. “Now let me fucking go!”

You purse your lips, pretending to consider the thought as you backpedal through the surrounding trees. “Yeah…” you trail off. “I don’t think so. Think I gotta get a head start first.”

And then you make a break for it, sprinting through the trees, cracking the branches scattered along the forest floor. You can see the mansion in the distance, the government agents rounding up the children. The sight sets off something deep inside you. You can feel the anger in your heart, squeezing tightly, dread filling your stomach. You’ve let go of your hold on Logan, your focus now on something far more important.

You have to save the school. Your friends. Your family. You’re not an Omega-level mutant for nothing, after all.

You take a step closer to the school, grass dying underneath your feet as your boots tread along the ground—the bright green blades turn brown as you give in to your anger. Somewhere in the distance, a familiar voice calls your name, but it’s too late for that—too late to stop you now. Your eyes flicker closed and open again, changing colors as your powers take control: your left eye white and your right black—representing life and death.

My dear, Charles is suddenly your head. You must restrain yourself. You must back down.

“No,” you call out, your voice multi-dimensional, bassy and high, light and heavy. “It is time they learn we are not to be taken advantage of.”

It is too dangerous, my child, his voice bounces around your mind. Charles works hard to convince you, showing you visions of your death, of the potential consequences of your actions. This is not you. This is your anger.

“I know what I’m doing,” you protest, your voice echoing across the field.

The agents watch as you stalk across the lawn, spirits following closely at your ankles like a thick, massive cloud of black smoke.

Your name rings out from behind you. You can feel the tug of the familiar voice, the desire to turn around and see that face, to hear him call your name again. But you stifle the feelings down, struggling to ignore the way your heart begs to see him—Logan. You can feel yourself caught in the middle, split in two.

A tear slips down your cheek as you walk forward, closer to the agents. Their guns point at you—hundreds of fingers on triggers, aiming carefully with squinting eyes. You can see they’re no longer paying attention to the children. You’ve given the students their chance—their way out. You can see it in their faces; they know. They’re just waiting for your signal.

Spirits cloud your fists, climbing into your palms, eager for a fight. You bend your knees, digging your heels into the ground. The grass between you and the government agents has long since died. You can feel the tension, feel the spirits rumbling in the air and in your hands.

“You wanted a fight…” You pause, your voice a crack of thunder. “I’ll give you a fucking fight.” The spirits whisper in your ears, their hums filling the air. They aren’t dead; they’re drumming, living things. It’s time. Oh yes, it’s time. Go!

“Now run!” You scream to the children, unleashing the spirits across the lawn. You sprint across the field, black shadows knocking the agents over and throwing them away. You guide the spirits with your mind, directing them with the flick of your wrist and the point of your finger.

You’re bloodthirsty, searching for the mission’s organizer, hunting tirelessly for their leader. The spirits know what you want—what you need—and swarm around a man at the back of the lawn—the man following the children.

The spirits pick you up by your knees and your shoulders, lifting you into the air and towards the man. You fall to the ground right behind him.

You smirk hatefully, extending your fingers toward his ankles. Shadows surge him, threading around his legs, twisting up his stomach, and wrapping tightly around his throat.

“W-who the fuck are you?” The agent chokes out.

You cock your head to the side, grinning widely. The spirits goad you along. Tap his little head. You know you want to. Take his life. Go on. Take it. One tap to his temple—that’s all it would take—and his life would be yours. It’s something you’ve never done before, something you’ve been able to resist in the past. But this time, you can’t help it.

“Who am I?” You repeat condescendingly, laughing manically. You lift your hand, inching closer to his forehead. “I,” you pause, your fingertips brushing against his skin. “Am death.” Your white eye flickers out, turning pitch black.

This is what the Professor had always been afraid of.

“Don’t!” There’s that voice again, tugging at your heart. “Please, don’t.”

You keep your hold on the agent as you turn around. Logan. He’s in front of you now, approaching you slowly. Behind him, spirits wreck the other government agents, sweeping them up, throwing them away, holding them down. The other X-Men fight off the few remaining agents easily.

“I am going to finish this,” you say, struggling to hold on to your powers. Your hatred and anger fade at the sight of Logan—wearing the uniform he said he never would, his hair a disheveled mess, his hand slowly extending out to you.

He shakes his head, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “It’s already over,” he says firmly, taking your hand. You turn around and see that the government agent is passed out on the ground, likely from the pressure of the spirits choking his throat.

“If you hold on any longer, you’re gonna hurt yourself, princess.” Your eyes flicker at the nickname, your grip loosening on your powers. You can feel yourself slipping, fading away.

“H-have to f-finish the job,” you stutter, fighting against that tear in your heart.

Logan pulls you towards him, his thumb brushing soft circles to the top of your hand. “Think you already did, sweetheart.”

“N-no, she didn’t,” you hear a voice mutter from behind you. BANG! A gun cracks, and there’s suddenly a stinging sensation in your side. You turn, and the government agent is freed from your hold, his gun aimed at your head now.

“NO!” Logan shouts, but you ignore him, your powers flooding back to you. The spirits swarm the agent again, winding up his body and holding him in place. The shadows trail up your body too, coming to where the bullet hit your side and pulling the metal shell out.

You fight through the pain, pressing your pointer and middle fingers to the temple of the agent’s head. “This might hurt a bit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath and stealing his life force. “Just taking retribution.” His veins darken as your wound closes, taking only enough of the man’s life to heal yourself.

You sigh with relief as the wound becomes nothing. You lift your fingers from the agent’s head, and he slumps down to the ground. He’s truly incapacitated now, passed out cold.

You turn around, and Logan is still standing there. He approaches you again. You suddenly feel overwhelmed and woozy. It was too much, you realize.

Your eyes flicker again—black, white, normal, shifting quickly, shakily, like power going out in a thunderstorm. “L-Logan,” you stammer, hunching over, your hands on your thighs. He crouches down, letting you lean into him.

“Hey,” he whispers reassuringly—but you can hear the secret panic in his voice. “I’ve got you.”

The others call your name in the distance.

“I did it,” you whisper.

The spirits disappear from the field, slipping back under the ground.

Logan’s eyes are glossed over. “Yeah, you did sweetheart.” You fall fully into Logan, his arms wrapping around you, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

And then everything goes black.

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

“Still in here, Logan?” It’s Charles.

“Yeah,” Logan’s voice is raspy, tired. And it’s close, like you could reach out and strum the sound waves. “Are the kids okay?”

“They’re all safe and accounted for,” Charles says. “And Hank is handling the government side of things. It was an unsanctioned attack.” Silence settles over the room, the pause strained and tense. “She’s going to be okay. You should get some rest.”

“I’m staying.”

“Logan—”

“I said I’m staying.” And then the door shuts.

Your eyes slowly open, and you realize you’re back in the mansion—in your room, your bed. Logan notices immediately, standing from the chair next to your bed and rushing to your side.

“Hey,” he soothes, his hand reaching out, gently cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch involuntarily. It’s an instinct—something you simply have to do. “You’re awake.”

“No visit to the lab for me, huh?” You joke, sitting up a bit as your memories flood back to you. You’re surprised that you don’t feel any injuries or soreness.

Logan swallows nervously. “You were…” he trails off, his eyes searching yours. “Earlier. All day, actually.” His thumb brushes against your cheek. “Everyone was worried about you.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “I’m alright. I don’t feel a thing.”

But Logan isn’t swayed. You can see the fear in his eyes, the stress in his shoulders. “You should’ve let me hold you back.” He’s serious, his voice firm and steady. “You could’ve gotten hurt…” He struggles to get the words out, his eyes grazing up and down your body. “You could’ve died.”

“Logan,” you mumble, sitting up. “I did what I did because I had to,” you pause, your heart squeezing at the look on his face. “I’d give my life for this family. I would—”

“You’re not giving your life for anything; do you hear me?” He cuts you off, furrowing his brows, his other hand cupping your cheek now, too.

You close your eyes at the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his palms. “I would give my life to save you.” The words slip freely from your lips. You’re so sure of that fact, so impossibly certain.

He pulls you closer to him, his hands sliding from your face to the nape of your neck. “I won’t let that happen.”

“Logan I will always—”

But he cuts off your protests. “Enough of your fucking savior complex.” His voice is shaky now. He pulls you into his chest, and you let him. His arms slip down your back, pressing you tightly to him. His lips are at the shell of your ear. “I am not losing you.”

The vulnerability of his words shocks you, your breath catching in your throat. “You won’t,” you promise, burying your face into the center of his chest.

“I almost did,” he chokes out, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. His words kill you, your heart aching at the sadness in his voice.

You lift your head from his chest, looking up at him as he looks down at you. He’s massive, towering over you. You can smell him on your clothes, on your skin—tobacco and pine and musk. There’s a shift in his expression, in the tension in the room. His chest heaves under his beater.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, your hands sliding up his stomach, trailing over his abs. He relaxes into your touch, the stress leaving his shoulders. He leans over you, his forehead pressing to yours. The contact and the closeness are dizzying, your mind hazy as Logan’s fingertips ghost the sides of your waist.

He swallows harshly as his lips brush against yours—a whisper of a kiss. “Wouldn’t even give you the chance,” he mumbles. You can feel the charge in the air, the anticipation. There’s a look on his face, and you recognize it immediately. You feel it too.

Longing. Need.

His lips capture yours, engulfing you like a fire. His hands slip under your shirt, exploring your skin. He’s breathing you in, and you’re breathing him out. You’re suddenly one extraordinary machine, working together, moving against each other in time.

Logan pushes you down to the mattress, his lips still on yours, the kiss becoming rushed and frantic. He climbs on top of you, his bare arms caging you in on either side of your head. You spread your legs for him, giving him room to settle in between. You can feel his erection strain against his jeans as he rocks into you. The friction feels good, but it’s not enough. You grind against him, needy for more.

“Fuck,” he pants between kisses, lowering himself down onto his forearm to close the gap between you. His free hand finds the hem of your shirt and slips underneath, his fingertips trailing up and down your body. He’s still rutting into you, his cock nudging against your needy core.

You grab at his back, pulling on his beater. “L-Logan,” you stutter, his fingers bumping into the bottom of your bra. You arch up into him, giving him the space he needs to bring his hand to your back and unclasp it. He sits up, quickly pulling your shirt up and over your head, slipping your bra off, too.

He lays you back down, hovering over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand drifts up to your breasts. He squeezes softly, his thumb tracing over your nipples. “Beautiful,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck, biting your pulse point. “So fucking beautiful.”

His soft bites turn into kisses, trailing down your neck to your collarbone. He kisses in between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your shorts. You swallow, nodding frantically as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs in one fluid motion.

You’re exposed to him—bare. He settles back in between your legs, his mouth just inches away from where you need him most. His breath fans across your clit, a jolt of electricity sparking a fire at the base of your spine. You can feel the ache between your legs growing.

“Please,” you beg, Logan’s name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you look down at him. He presses a teasing kiss to your clit, his eyes focused on you, on every move you make. “Logan, I need—”

You’re cut off by his tongue—a long, flat stripe licking through your folds, up to your clit. His tongue flits out, flicking lightly before starting all over again. “Gonna take my time with you, pretty girl,” he murmurs against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice coursing through you. Your walls squeeze down around nothing, begging for more, begging for release. “Gonna make you feel good.”

He spreads his palm against your inner thigh, nudging you open for him. His nails dig into your skin, fingers trailing up closer to your core. “Please,” you whine. “Want you.”

Logan’s fingers finally meet your folds, his tongue flicking your clit and pulling it between his lips, sucking softly. “Tastes so good,” he mumbles against you. “So fucking sweet.” Two fingers nudge your entrance, testing the waters, spreading you open slowly.

You open your mouth to beg for him again, but then he’s thrusting inside you—knuckle deep—his fingers stretching you out. Your walls flutter around him as he pulls out and pushes all the way back in. His swirls circles into your clit, his tongue lapping at you, savoring the taste of you.

He slides his free hand under your back and to your hip, hoisting you closer to him as he buries his face into your cunt. There’s a hunger in his eyes. No, it’s so far beyond hunger. He’s starving—starving for you and only you. If he could live inside you, he would.

He’s relentless as he sucks your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you. He can feel you shaking underneath him, trembling. His thumb draws gentle, comforting circles along your hip. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers in between thrusts. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.” Your muscles contract around him at the words, his praises overwhelming you.

He's getting you there—the fire spreading, creeping in, ready to consume everything in its path. “’M’so close,” you moan, overstimulated and fucked out. Logan doesn’t slow down, his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. You can feel yourself coming undone, unraveling before him.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he soothes between laps. “Come on my tongue, just like that.” And then you’re letting go, coming around his fingers. Fire washes over you, beat after beat, pump after pump. It hits you in waves, the sensation crashing into you as Logan works you through your orgasm.

He’s whispering praises as he savors your taste on his tongue. So good, sweetheart. Letting me take care of you. I’ve got you. So fucking pretty.

His thrusts slow down, gently rubbing at your walls before sliding out. But his tongue is still working at your clit, lapping softly. “Could eat you out for hours, princess,” he says, licking another long stripe through your folds. “Maybe I will.” You can feel him smile against you.

But you need him, need him closer—as close as he can possibly be. “Logan,” you call out, already close to coming again. “Want you now,” you plead.

He licks one more long stripe before lifting his head. He sits up, staring down at you as he lifts his beater up and over his head. You stare at his chest, the way his muscles flex as he breathes. Your arousal glistens on his lips, his chin.

He unbuckles his belt and slips it from the loops, casting it to the ground with a loud clank. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, tugging them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, and he is so much bigger than you ever imagined he’d be. You swallow at the sight, and Logan smiles.

He is so cocksure, but maybe he deserves to be.

He lowers himself down over you, once again balancing on his forearm. His free hand trails up your sides teasingly before resting on your hip. “Gonna go slow, princess,” he whispers, biting your bottom lip and then stealing a kiss. “Nice and easy.” His hand on your hip disappears, leaving you suddenly cold and empty without his touch. But you know where he’s going—know that he’s wrapping his fist around the base of his cock. You spread your legs for him, inviting him inside.

He nudges against you, sliding up and down your folds, feeling you. His tip bumps against your clit, sending a shiver down your spine as you squirm underneath him. He finds your entrance again, his head slipping in, and then pulling back out.

His teasing is too much. You need him, more than anything, ever. “Please, Lo. Need you inside—”

Your words get stuck in your throat as Logan thrusts deep inside you, his cock rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. You moan his name, arching your back, your breasts pressing against his chest. He stays there for a moment, his cock throbbing inside you, giving you a second to adjust to the size of him. But it’s not enough—you need him to move. You lift your hips, searching for more friction.

Logan pins you down, his free hand stilling you at your waist. “Wanna take my time with you,” he growls, sliding out and thrusting back in. “Wanna feel every inch of you.” He’s setting the pace: slow, but building. Once he’s sure you’re not going anywhere, he lifts his grip from your hip and brings his hand down between where your bodies connect.

He finds your clit again, still swollen and overstimulated, and starts to work slow, gentle circles into it. You’re already close, already almost at that edge.

Logan’s thrusts become rougher, deeper. He rocks into you, plunging himself down to the hilt as he flicks your clit. He swallows your moans with a kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You open your mouth, letting him inside. You’d give him anything—absolutely anything he wanted. He never even has to ask.

“Yours,” you breathe into the kiss. “All yours.”

“F-fuck,” he curses, rutting into you, your words goading him along. “Mine,” He growls, his hips snapping faster, his pace quickening with every thrust. “All mine, pretty girl.”

And then the confession spills from your lips. You can’t control it. “I love you.”

Logan pounds into you harder. “I love you, too.” He can’t control himself either. You squeeze around him, the words practically pushing you over the edge. “Needed you this whole time, sweetheart. The whole fucking time.”

You throw your head back, exposing your throat to him. He buries himself into the crook of your neck as he pumps in and out of you, biting down on your pulse point again and then licking away the pain.

“Can feel you getting close, darlin’,” he coos, his fingers still stroking your clit. Your walls flutter and contract around him. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Your chests heave together, one single breath flowing between the two of you as he thrusts deeper. You’re slipping, letting go, crashing beneath him. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer. “Lo…” you trail off, unable to form a sentence.

“Love it when you say my name, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Say it again for me.”

“Logan,” you whine, your legs wrapping around his waist as he fucks into you. You can’t hold back anymore. It’s too much. And he knows.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says, rubbing at your clit. “Let go for me.”

You do, clenching down onto him, pulling him deeper. He groans at the feeling, his pace faltering as you come around him. You’re melting into the sheets, your muscles tensing and relaxing, white-hot heat spreading across your vision.

“Fuck,” Logan groans, working you through your orgasm. After a few more slow, languid strokes around your clit, his hand slips from your core and up your body. He squeezes your breasts before sliding his palm behind your back, lifting you up for better leverage. He fucks up into you, pressing you closer to his chest.

You tighten your legs around his waist, keeping him in place. He knows what you’re asking him for. “Inside?”

“Yes,” you murmur. He brings his lips to yours as he comes inside you, filling you up. He’s so warm, so solid. You cling to him as he finishes, not wanting to let go. His pumps slow until he’s still inside you. He holds you there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together.

Logan carefully pulls out. He rolls off you and pulls you with him so that you’re lying on your side next to him. He wraps his arms around you, keeping you pressed against his chest. Your legs tangle together.

The intimacy of the moment suddenly sobers you, and memories of today come flooding back. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes. Logan notices immediately.

“Hey,” he whispers, panic clear in his voice. “It’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands along your back. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry…” you trail off, burying your face into his neck. “I’m so sorry for scaring you, for hurting you, for putting myself in danger. I just—”

“I know,” he interrupts you. “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m here.”

“I won’t leave you,” you vow. “I promise.”

“Don’t promise,” he says softly. You look up at him, a sad smile spread across his face.

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

He swallows. “Because I would’ve done the same for you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’d tear the world apart for you.” He pauses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smile, your tears subsiding. You take a deep breath and recall something he had said before. “So, who has the savior complex now?” You joke.

“Me,” he says back, half joking, but half serious, too. You can hear it—the honesty, the intention. “I’d do anything to save you.”

“It’s not gonna come to that.”

“But when—” he stops himself. “If it does, I’ll be there.” He pauses. “I will always choose you. Always. Every time.”

Always. Always. Always.

It’s all you can think about as you fall asleep in Logan’s arms.

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