#room so I couldn’t hurt myself trying to break everything

[ob-sass-ion]

I think a lot of problems could be solved if we just had healthier outlets for emotions like anger and rage and devastation.

[shy2-29]

── just the two of us, moonstruck ☾ (l.hs)

๑ After Heeseung finally breaks off his manipulative relationship, he storms out of the house late at night without an umbrella as it’s pouring rain, then running into you. He’s never been happier after he experiences what real love is with you.

a/n: this is actually so sad but I hope you enjoy it! Heeseung’s ex goes by the name Karina | wc: 2.6k | warning: not proofread! toxic relationship, angst, manipulation, minor flirting | song: moonstruck - enhypen 🎵

—

"Break up with me?!"

Karina sneered, her voice trembling with emotion. Her gaze bore into Heeseung, her words laced with anger.

The raw intensity of her expression conveyed the depth of her pain, begging him to reconsider.

“Why are you even acting surprised? You knew this was coming.” Heeseung’s response was cold and void of any sympathy. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t expect it.”

Karina's eyes widened, frustration etched on her face as she spoke, “All I did was treat you well like the loving girlfriend I am!”

Her voice wavered with hurt, her arms crossing defensively in front of her chest.

The accusation stung, her resentment evident as she tried to convey the effort she had put into their relationship.

“Loving girlfriend? You call manipulating me, constantly gaslighting me, and never giving me space ‘loving?’” his voice rising with each word.

“You were trying too hard to be ‘loving.’ I felt suffocated and trapped.” Heeseung’s voice grew more forceful. “It was like you were constantly hovering over me, trying to control every aspect of my life. I couldn’t breathe!”

Karina's lower lip trembled, her face flushed with anger.

"Is that all I did?!" Her voice escalated in volume. "I just wanted to be close to you! Is that a crime!?"

Heeseung furrowed his brow, his frustration evident.

"It was more than that," he retorted. "You smothered me. You didn't trust me. You made me question every interaction, every decision. You controlled everything. It was like I lost myself in the relationship."

As Karina was about to speak, Heeseung interrupted, his voice firm, "We're over, Karina."

The finality in his tone left no room for negotiation, the harsh reality hitting Karina like a wave as Heeseung stormed out of her apartment.

It was pouring rain as Heeseung stepped outside without an umbrella. His shoes splashed in the puddles, his face drenched as he walked away, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, the rain a fittingly melancholic companion to his heartbreak.

Heeseung found himself drawn to the nearby river, the moon shining brightly overhead.

Lost in thought, he reached the riverbank and gazed at the water's surface, reflecting the celestial light.

The gentle lapping of the waves was soothing, but the pang of heartache was still ever-present.

It was well past midnight. The once bustling streets lay silent, the moon casting its silvery glow on the empty cobblestones.

Most of the city was asleep, except for the occasional insomniac or late-night worker.

The rain continued to shower down, creating a melancholic atmosphere as Heeseung stood there, soaking wet, his gaze fixed on the shimmering river.

The silence was broken only by the soft sounds of raindrops hitting the water's surface and the occasional distant sound of a passing car.

It was as if the world had come to a pause for Heeseung, his emotions swirling like the eddies in the river.

Heeseung took a deep, shaky breath as a rush of emotions washed over him. It was like the rain was washing away the remnants of his relationship, leaving behind only the memory of the moon's ethereal beauty and the cold, comforting presence of the night.

Heeseung couldn't help but dwell on the moments leading up to the breakup, replaying the harsh words exchanged. The words he'd said to Karina haunted him, but deep down, he knew they were true. He needed space, freedom, a chance to rediscover himself without the stifling grip of a controlling partner.

As the rain continued to fall, Heeseung ran a hand through his wet hair, his gaze still fixed on the shimmering water. It was then that he noticed you standing silently behind him, quietly holding an umbrella over his head.

"You’re going to get sick if you keep standing in the rain, sir," you remarked, offering a friendly reminder to the man drenched in the pouring rain. Concern etched on your face, you chuckled lightly at the scene before you.

Heeseung startled, quickly turning around to see you standing there. A mixture of surprise and relief crossed his features as he recognized your kind gesture.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I got lost in thought..." he admitted sheepishly.

He took in your appearance for a moment, taking notice of your kind expression. There was something comforting about having someone show genuine concern.

Your concern grew as you stepped closer, shielding both of you from the rain with your umbrella. "Are you lost?" you inquired softly, your gaze filled with genuine concern.

Heeseung shook his head in response, his eyes meeting yours.

"No, not lost...just trying to clear my head," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

His drenched hair clung to his forehead as he ran a hand through it again, trying to regain his composure.

With you standing close, Heeseung felt a strange sense of comfort, despite the circumstances. The umbrella provided a welcome shelter and the act of sharing it with a stranger was oddly comforting.

His mind was still swirling with the events leading up to this moment, but the presence of someone caring enough to stand in the rain with him made his heart feel a little less heavy.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked as the words slipped from your lips. The tilt of your head indicated your genuine interest, an invitation to share what burdened him.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with contemplation. The weight of everything he'd been through felt raw and vulnerable.

"It's just...my relationship. It ended tonight," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with the lingering pain of the breakup.

You nodded understandingly, your heart going out to him.

"Breakups are tough," you responded, your voice soft and compassionate. "But sometimes, they lead us to better things."

You could see the heaviness in his expression, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under the weight of his heartache.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" you asked with a hint of concern.

Heeseung shook his head, his gaze remaining fixed on the water.

"No, not really. I don't really feel like going back to my apartment right now."

There was a trace of sadness in his voice, as if he knew he should go back, but the thought of being alone in his empty, silence-filled home didn't appeal to him at all.

You studied his face for a moment, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, and the rain running down his face. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that tugged at your heartstrings.

"Would you like to come to mine? Just for the night," you suddenly offered, surprising yourself as much as him.

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by your unexpected invitation. He looked at you, disbelief and a hint of gratitude etched across his face.

"Really?" he asked, his voice soft. The rain continued to fall, the sound of droplets hitting the umbrella growing louder.

You nodded, a reassuring smile on your lips.

"Yeah, really. I have a spare room at my place. You can stay there tonight. Beats being out here in the rain."

Heeseung seemed both grateful and hesitant, the weight of his emotions still heavy in his eyes.

"I...I don't want to be a bother," he muttered, clearly torn between accepting your offer and not wanting to impose on you.

You shook your head, your smile gentle and understanding.

"You won't be a bother. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it." You moved closer, the umbrella sheltering both of you from the relentless rain. "Come on, it's pouring. You're already soaked."

Heeseung looked at you for a moment, seemingly weighing the proposition. When he finally nodded, it was with a mixture of relief and appreciation.

"Okay. I'll come with you," he said, his voice still tinged with the raw remnants of the night's heartbreak.

With that, you both braved the rain, walking to your apartment. The rhythmic tapping of the rain on the umbrella accompanied your steps, the darkness surrounding you only occasionally broken by streetlights along the way.

Heeseung followed silently next to you, the weight of his emotions still heavy on his shoulders. He found comfort in your presence, though, a stranger who had shown such kindness to him in a moment of vulnerability.

"What's your name, sir?" You asked, breaking the silence with a gentle question. The rhythmic sound of your footsteps hitting the rain-soaked puddles echoed in the air.

Heeseung turned to look at you, realizing he hadn't introduced himself. He gave you a small, slightly embarrassed smile.

"Oh, right. I'm Heeseung. And just call me by my name, please. The 'sir' thing makes me feel old."

A soft laugh escaped your lips, his remark putting you at ease.

"Alright, Heeseung it is," you responded, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue comfortably.

Heeseung looked at you, curiousity in his eyes.

"And what's your name?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know the name of the person who saved him from standing in the rain.

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your heart that he cared to ask.

"I'm Yn," you introduced, the simplicity of your name contrasting with the depth of your actions.

"Yn," Heeseung repeated, the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue with a gentle lilt.

He found comfort in the way it sounded, like a soft melody that made his heart feel a little less heavy.

The rain continued to fall around you both as you reached your apartment building. Heeseung followed you into the lobby, feeling a mix of gratitude and relief at the thought of being out of the rain and surrounded by warmth.

You pulled out your keys, unlocking the door to your apartment and ushering Heeseung inside. The warmth of the apartment immediately enveloped them, offering a stark contrast to the cold, damp exterior.

Heeseung walked in, feeling the transition from the rainy atmosphere outside to the comforting shelter inside. He looked around the apartment, noticing the cozy, homey vibe, and he found himself relaxing a bit.

You gestured towards a door down the hallway. "You can hang your jacket in there." You pointed to the door next to it. "The bathroom's there. I'll get you a dry change of clean clothes that my older brother left behind. Make yourself at home, alright?"

Heeseung nodded, grateful for your hospitality.

"Thank you so much, Yn. I really appreciate this," he said heartfelt, his voice sincere.

He followed your directions, hanging up his damp jacket and taking off his shoes before heading into the bathroom.

As you headed to the bedroom to find something dry for Heeseung to wear, Heeseung entered the bathroom, the sound of the rain outside providing a calming white noise.

The warm glow from the bathroom light created a soothing atmosphere as he stepped inside. He turned on the shower and began washing the cold rain off, feeling a sense of relaxation wash over him.

He let the warm water run down his body, the sound of the shower mixing with his own thoughts.

He found himself reflecting on the events of the evening, the breakup, the rain, and your sudden presence in his life.

Heeseung stayed in the shower for a bit longer than usual, finding comfort in the warmth and solitude.

When he finally stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, he felt refreshed and a little more calm.

Heeseung walked out of the bathroom, finding a fresh set of clothes laid out for him. He quickly changed into them, appreciating the simple gesture more than you could possibly know.

The clothes felt soft against his skin, the scent of fabric softener a comforting whiff of familiarity. Heeseung ran a hand through his damp hair and stepped out of the room, feeling a bit more at ease now.

As he re-entered the main living area, he saw you making hot tea. You glanced over your shoulder and smiled, seeing that he looked much more comfortable in the dry clothes.

"I hope those clothes fit okay," you stated, a hint of concern in your voice.

"And I made some tea. Chamomile, to help you relax," you said as you offered a teacup to him.

You urged gently, your words tinged with concern, "After you drink this, you should go to sleep. It's almost 2 AM."

The late hour and the worry in your words conveyed your genuine concern for his well-being.

Heeseung looked at you, a mix of exhaustion and gratitude in his eyes.

"You're right," he admitted, taking the teacup from you. The warmth of the cup felt pleasant against his cold hands.

"I don't think I could stay awake for much longer anyway," he said, a tired sigh escaping his lips.

Heeseung, feeling the weight of exhaustion, takes a sip of the chamomile tea you had made for him.

The warmth of the cup and the soothing fragrance of the tea comforted him, and he set it down on the table.

"Thank you," he said with gratitude, his voice sincere and heartfelt. "For everything. Letting me stay over, providing me with dry clothes... You've been incredibly kind, Yn."

You chuckled lightly, revealing the soft spot in your heart. "I guess I just have a soft spot for cute lonely souls who happen to be soaked by the rain past midnight," you teased, observing him delicately as he sipped his tea.

A hint of color rose to Heeseung's cheeks as he realized your teasing remark. He let out a small, embarrassed laugh, not used to such unexpected compliments.

"I guess that means I'm the luckiest, then," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness.

The warmth of the apartment, the comfort of the clothes you had provided, and the soothing tea in his hand made him feel at ease.

Despite the emotional turmoil of the night, there was a sense of peace settling in his heart, thanks to your compassionate presence.

His voice grew solemn, gratitude evident as he spoke, "But really—thank you, y/n. I felt something I haven’t felt from a long time, and I think you’re a really good person…" The weight of his words hung in the air, his genuine appreciation for you becoming apparent.

You felt your heart warm, a mix of emotions welling up within you.

"You don't have to thank me," you responded softly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I'm just glad I was there to help you when you needed it."

There was a moment of silent understanding between you both, the weight of his words settling in.

The late hour, the weary exhaustion, and the vulnerability of the situation created a fragile connection, an invisible bond that seemed to grow stronger the longer you shared this quiet moment.

As the silence between you two stretched on, Heeseung broke it with a question that hinted at his growing curiosity about you.

"To be honest, I don't really want our night to end here," he confessed, his voice quiet but sincere.

"I know we just met, but I'd really like to get to know you better."

The vulnerability in his voice echoed in the room. Heeseung had been through an emotional rollercoaster of a night, and in this moment of vulnerability and weary exhaustion, he was opening up to you, a stranger who had shown him nothing but kindness.

The desire for connection, for something beyond the shared moment of late-night solace, was evident in his words.

Heeseung hoped that you wouldn't dismiss his invitation, that you would give him a chance to learn more about you.

You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"I'd like that, Heeseung," you responded, your voice carrying a note of warm honesty.

"I don't mind getting to know you better either."

thx for reading

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Nightvisions - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: This is part 2 to Dead of Night, Reader and Spencer face the fallout of an intense first sexual encounter, which leads to a second one.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: i’m overjoyed by the positive response to ‘dead of night’ and i’m a woman of the people so despite my lack of plan to do a part 2, i wrote one anyway, and this is it! tbh i’m not too sure how i feel about this but i had fun writing it anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: pervert!spencer, dom!spencer, angst, established relationships, confession of feelings, semi-public sex, noise control, hair pulling, spit, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), penetration, creampie, panty stealing, references to knifeplay, slight biting, hickey (kinda?) pet names (angel), fem + afab reader, happy ending

Rating: R, 18+

——

As the work day dragged on you could feel your initial shock and intrigue twist into an anger that burned in the pit of your stomach. Every glance Spencer took at you from his desk across the bullpen made your blood pressure spike, unable to properly focus on the paperwork you had been working through for the better half of the day. Your mind kept drifting, trying to rationalize his potential motives, but the more the thought stirred in your mind the less you could justify it to yourself. You had to hear it directly from him, as soon as possible.

“Spencer, can I get your input on something?” You called him over to your desk, masking the frustration in your voice. He scrambled to his feet, eager to be close to you again for the first time since this morning. He leaned over your desk, glancing at the paperwork in front of you.

“How can I help?”

You pointed to an insignificant line of text as you leaned forward, bringing your mouth inches from his ear.

“Meet me in the conference room in 5 minutes.” You whispered, watching as he gulped and nodded.

“That should be good.” He said as a cover, hoping not to draw suspicion to the two of you before returning to his desk.

You grabbed a file for show and walked to the conference room, checking that the blinds were pulled down over the windows overlooking the bullpen. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, starting to pace to keep yourself occupied as you waited for him.

Moments later there came a gentle knock at the door before Spencer slowly opened it, dipping quickly in and locking the door behind him. A short silence hung in the air until your emotions got the better of you, his soft expression causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“How? Why?” You blurted out, a mix of confusion, exhaustion, and desperation playing out in your features. He took a step toward you and you took a step back, keeping distance between you. If he touched you, you might break, shatter into a million pieces and never be put back together.

“Please just let me explain.” His tone held such strong desperation that you almost forgot how betrayed you felt. You wiped a tear from your cheek, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall, waiting.

“You left your profile up on your computer one night and I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to give you everything you’ve ever wanted, I always have.” He took a deep breath, for once careful to articulate his words as he watched your expression carefully, searching for any sign of forgiveness.

“I know it was wrong, but I never thought I’d stand a chance with a woman like you if I went about it the traditional way. I never intended on hurting you, but I clearly have, and doing so is the biggest regret of my life.” You wanted to believe him, he seemed so earnest, but the doubt was eating you alive by the second. What if it was all an act? Was the connection you felt that night built on lies?

“Was everything you said in our chats a lie just to sleep with me?” You kept a straight face, fighting back more tears to keep your composure. You couldn’t let him know how badly you were hurt, not if he didn’t mean it.

“Oh god no, angel, everything I said was the truth.” He grew more frantic, nervously stretching his fingers as he fought the urge to step toward you again. He just wanted to hold you, to comfort you in the simplest way he knew how, but he couldn’t do anything that might make you more uncomfortable.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, still too frustrated with him at the moment to deal with your feelings for him. He nodded, keeping his mouth shut to resist the urge to ramble on and on about what he felt for you.

“I’m not sure I believe you Spencer, I just don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” Your voice cracked, biting the inside of your lip as you watched his face drop.

“You can.” He weighed the risk and took a step closer to you again, and you didn’t move away from him this time.

“How do I know that?”

“I’m in love with you.”

It was the most confident he’d been all day, his voice unwavering with every word.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” Tears threatened your waterline once more, hanging on his every movement as you tried to read him.

“I do mean it, I’ve known from the first time we spent 2 hours talking nonstop on the jet. No one has ever seen me the way that you do.” His eyes were glassy with tears and your heart began to melt, dropping your arms to your sides and finally closing the gap between you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You took his hand in yours, your thumb swiping over the veins on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same.” He sighed, averting his gaze from yours.

“I do.” You confirmed, squeezing his hand. He looked at you once more, the tension between you practically suffocating.

He leaned into you, his face dangerously close to yours as he searched your eyes for any lingering apprehension, but there was none to be found. He took a leap of faith, hoping he was reading you right as his lips met yours, his hand cupping the side of your face. You melted into the kiss, allowing him to guide your mouth against his. Your skin grew hot, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as his actions grew more intense, his lips pushing almost bruisingly hard against yours.

His hands moved lower, ghosting down your sides, the slight pressure against your healing cuts from the night before making you shiver. He finally reached the hem of your skirt, slowly hiking the fabric up your thighs. You pulled your mouth away from his, panting for a moment in hopes of catching your breath once more.

“Spencer, we can’t.” You sighed, meeting his hungry gaze.

“We can if we’re careful.” He countered, pushing you gently back until your hips bumped against the large circular table in the center of the room.

“What if someone hears? If we get caught we could lose our jobs.” The rational part of your brain seemed to be dueling with your primal urges, your body betraying your mind as the thought of getting caught only made the wetness between your thighs grow more intense.

“Then you better be quiet.” He whispered, his large hands gripping your hips as he spun you around, bending you over the edge of the conference table. He dropped to his knees, pushing your skirt up the rest of the way to bunch around your hips, humming to himself as he admired your perfect ass. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them over the curve of your hips and down your legs before pocketing the lacy fabric.

You whined, wiggling your hips back to urge him on.

“Be patient.” He laughed, his voice low. You didn’t have to wait long, his head dipping between your thighs to find your waiting pussy. His strong grip kept your thighs spread as his tongue delved between your folds, quickly giving ample attention to your swollen clit. He was hungry, plush lips drinking in your arousal with every extended lap of his tongue, practically suffocating himself as his nose brushed against your weeping entrance.

You brought your hand to your mouth, biting your wrist to stifle your whimpers as you rocked back against him, indulging in the way he devoured you. He moaned against you, muffled vibrations sending shockwaves through your body, your clit growing more and more sensitive by the second. You were starting to get desperate, riding his face until the table underneath you began to squeak with every rock of your hips. Spencer suddenly pulled away, sitting back on his calves.

“Your desperation is going to get us caught.” He brought his hand between your legs, fingers massaging your clit for a split second before rearing back and slapping against it, causing you to jolt forward. You yelped, a bit louder than you intended from the shock of it, and you swallowed nervously, anticipating his next move.

He rose to his feet, his clothed hips pushing against your bare ass as he gripped your hair in his fist, firmly pulling you upright. You bit your lip to hide your moan, letting him guide your every step as he pulled you across the room, finally pressing your back against the wall.

“Spencer, please.” You sounded more pathetic than you intended but the way his mouth felt on you got you beyond worked up, and in that moment you felt like you needed him inside you more than you needed air.

“Are you going to be quiet?” He questioned, his hand resting on his belt buckle as he waited for an answer.

“Yes, I’ll be good, I promise.” You looked up at him, giving your best doe-eyed look as you began unbuttoning your blouse. He began to undo his belt, letting his pants and briefs fall to his ankles as he held out his hand in front of you.

“Spit.” He commanded, the dominant side of him coming out more with every sweet sound that left your lips. You did as you were told, spitting in his hand to provide a bit of lubricant for him to stroke his cock, fully preparing himself to enter you.

You were mesmerized, unable to look away from the way his shirt rode up his torso, toned but slender stomach flexing with each movement of his hand, his hair falling messily in his flushed face, a thin layer of sweat forming on his skin. You pulled the cups of your bra down, toying with your nipples as you enjoyed the show, feeling like you were watching the most intimate sex tape you’d ever seen.

“Are you ready?” His voice snapped you out of your trance, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment over how desperate you were for him. You nodded frantically, draping your arms behind his neck, pulling him to you. You raised your leg, wrapping it around his waist, looking down between your chests to watch him lineup his cock with your cunt. He pushed the head in, cutting off the gasp that threatened to rip from your throat as he pulled you into another intense kiss.

He sank fully into your tight walls, the soreness you felt from the night before melting away with every stroke he laid into you. You moaned into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you allowed him to take the reins, his controlling grip digging soft bruises into the flesh of your breasts, then your hip, electricity flowing between the two of you. You pulled away from the kiss, coming up for air, so lost in the feeling that you couldn’t make out any coherent sounds, only gentle whimpers and whines.

“You feel so good.” He moaned quietly, quickening his pace, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit, the rough pad of his thumb pressing firm swipes up and down over the swollen bundle of nerves. Your whimpers grew louder, and despite your hazy state, you knew you had to quiet yourself quickly. You pulled him closer, burying your face in the side of his neck, your lips latching onto the soft skin behind his ear.

A groan rose from the back of his throat, your mouth sucking against his pressure point pulling him dangerously close to his release. You swore you were seeing stars, supernovas erupting between your thighs as you started to contract around him, your senses overwhelmed with his touch, crying out against his neck. Your knee began to buckle, your leg almost giving out if it wasn’t for his firm hold on your hip. He continued to pump in and out, helping you ride out your orgasm until you had gained a bit more of your composure, able to support yourself again despite how fucked out you felt.

Spencer felt himself falter and anchored his hips against yours, keeping himself seated within your warm walls as they coaxed him to completion. He quietly moaned your name, his head hung to observe the view of himself pulling out of you. You dropped your leg, still in a daze as you began righting your clothing. After you redid the last button of your top and yanked your skirt back down over your ass, you realized you couldn’t find your underwear.

“Looking for something?” He questioned, that familiar dorky smile plastered across his face. You turned to face him, seeing the lace dangling from his fingertip, but as you grabbed for it he pulled it out of reach.

“These are mine now.” He shoved the fabric back in his back pocket before you could attempt to steal them back again.

“Spencer, your cum is dripping down my leg, I kind of need those.” You took a stride toward him to close the gap between you, hoping to wrap your arm around his waist and take them out of his pocket. Your plan was quickly foiled as he grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind your back.

“You better keep your legs closed then, I’m not giving them back.” He whispered in your ear, his tone low but hinted with mischief.

“Whatever, pervert.” You pulled out of his grip, starting to walk toward the door. Your slight annoyance with his teasing quickly faded, unable to deny that walking back out into the bullpen full of Spencer’s cum was an incredibly hot concept.

“What does that make you, then?” He laughed, running his hand through his hair to make it somewhat presentable.

“An angel, according to you.” You turned back to him momentarily to wink in his direction, giving him a comfortable resolution to your slight outburst earlier.

“Can I see you again? Outside of work, I-I mean.” He slightly stumbled over his words, his dominant demeanor fading back into his signature awkward cadence, clearly a bit flustered by your tongue-in-cheek show of affection. You almost laughed, the question feeling a bit absurd given that you’d both just confessed your feelings for one another in more ways than one.

“Take me out to dinner tonight, I’ll be ready by 6. You have my address.” You smiled, watching a blush rise over his cheeks in response to your callback before unlocking the conference room door and returning to your desk to finish out the workday, eagerly awaiting your first real date with Spencer.

——

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea @theoraekenslover @placidus

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my spencer reid taglist :)

also tagging those who requested a part 2, thank you for the inspo!: @silver138 @espressoparis @futuremrsreid @charmedkim @lilcuutiee @cryxbabyxxx @c1rcus-baby

[lucysarah-c]

“Then Lauren said—”

“Stop eating my carrots!” Levi slapped her hand away from the bowl.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, pouting at him as she remained seated on the countertop. She caressed her hand, but the pain wasn't real. “Why?” she complained, playfully pretending to be hurt.

“Because I’m trying to make myself dinner,” he replied, continuing to slice up the vegetables. He momentarily pointed with his knife toward the boiling stew on the stove. “And when I asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Levi added, pushing the chopped vegetables into the bowl.

His stern gaze was quick to return when she grabbed another carrot slice. “I’m not hungry,” she insisted with her mouth full.

Levi maintained his stoic expression, one hand resting on his hip. “Is this going to be one of those times where I ask if you want something to eat, you say you’re not hungry, and then you end up eating half of my meal?”

There was a brief, intense silence until she swallowed her food and replied, “I never do that.”

Levi simply sighed and bent to pick up an extra batch of ingredients.

“Where’s your squad?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs on the countertop. Levi kept cooking, both of them enveloped in the dim light of the almost deserted kitchen.

“No idea,” Levi replied quickly. “Until tomorrow’s morning practice at 6, they’re not my responsibility.”

His girlfriend chuckled. “I bet they’re getting drunk downtown.”

“Good for them. As long as they don’t break anything that belongs to me and they’re on time tomorrow, they can get as shit-faced as they please.”

“What if they break something in the barracks?” she insisted playfully.

“Those budget issues are Erwin’s problems,” Levi said.

She laughed softly, her laughter echoing in the empty, massive room meant to hold many more soldiers than just the two of them. “I went downtown. I met up with friends from other divisions, had lunch, went shopping, had tea, saw a theater presentation, and then had dinner. What did you do all day?”

“I did a deep cleaning of our chambers,” Levi replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Something you were obviously not going to do. I did laundry, cleaned everything—even the clothes I was wearing. So, I lounged in my boxers in my desk chair, catching up with a book and drinking tea. When it got dark, I turned on a light, swapped the tea for whiskey, and kept reading. I spent my free day reading, having zero human interactions, and not dealing with anyone’s shitty problems. Best free day I’ve had in months.”

“Does that mean you’re done with your tasks for the day?” she asked playfully, giving him a sly look despite him being engrossed in his cooking.

Levi quickly replied, “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of time to do you, girly.” The words didn’t match his uninterested tone and expression.

But it made her chuckle anyway, mostly out of embarrassment. She softly hit his arm and complained, “Levi! A cadet might hear you.”

A subtle smirk appeared on his face, but not much more. There was a brief, comfortable silence as he put the ingredients into the boiling water and stirred them around.

“You know, I want your opinion about something Juliet told me. So I want you to be honest, be yourself,” Y/N commented. Levi simply hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on his upcoming dinner. “But be nice,” she warned him.

Levi stopped stirring his meal, looked up at her, and said, “I can’t be both.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. She’s dating a new guy… and I don’t think he’s good for her.”

“Like the last ten guys,” he interrupted her, “in the last eight months?”

Levi wasn’t a social person, but he was certainly up to date with his girlfriend’s gossip.

“Hey! Are you slut-shaming my friend?”

“No, your friend can sleep with the entire male population of the walls if she pleases,” Levi said casually as he moved around the kitchen. “But she has this tendency to think each one is the love of her life, and they last two weeks.”

Y/N couldn’t deny it. She sighed loudly. “She’s… a hopeless romantic.”

“Daddy issues.”

She snorted and then chuckled. “Hey! She’s my friend!” Y/N tried to defend her, but there was no conviction in her words. “…She used to have a crush on Erwin, remember?”

“Exactly. Having a crush on Erwin is the definition of daddy issues,” Levi said with a playful smile as his girlfriend burst into laughter. “Am I wrong?”

“No, no.”

Returning to stirring before heading back to the kitchen board to cut the potatoes, Levi asked, “So?”

“Oh yes,” Y/N caught herself and continued, “Well… she’s seeing this new guy. He’s in his mid-thirties, and the way she described him made me realize he’s a fuckboy and—”

“A fuckboy?” Levi quickly snapped, looking at his girlfriend, who simply hummed back, not understanding his reaction. “God,” Levi raised his hand to press on the bridge of his nose and slightly shook his head. “Your friend really has a radar for choosing the worst dudes out there.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” she complained. “Let me finish!”

“There’s nothing to finish,” he said. “A fuckboy, for fuck’s sake,” Levi repeated under his breath, almost cursing at the idea.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“A fuckboy, Y/N, really?” He repeated, louder this time, as if trying to make her see reason. Not sensing her understanding, he sighed loudly. “I was a fuckboy when I was 18, maybe even into my mid 20s. Yeah, maybe I fought the MPs in the underground, smoked around, got drunk, had a bunch of casual sex, and got high with Farlan. But I was 18!”

“What does that have to do with any of this—”

Levi quickly interrupted, “18! You can be a fuckboy at 18, maybe until your mid-20s,” he said. “You can’t be a shitty fuckboy in your mid-thirties! That’s not a fuckboy, that’s an unstable, immature, stupid dude,” Levi explained as his girlfriend burst into laughter, with him continuing to curse under his breath. “At this rate, he’s having a fucking midlife crisis, not being a fuckboy.”

Her girlfriend kept laughing, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "So. What is the fucking issue? Don't tell me your shitty friend got knocked up by that idiot."

Y/N kept laughing, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to calm down. “No,” she whispered out of breath between laughs, “it’s the opposite.”

Levi raised an eyebrow silently, questioning what she meant.

“He couldn’t get it up.”

It was Levi’s turn to chuckle. “Well… you definitely can’t be a fuckboy if you can’t get it hard… that’s for sure.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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Lovefool p2

[part one] [Mattheo riddle x reader]

Summary: Being the only girl in the group, and now stuck in the middle of nowhere with them, you found myself in a tricky situation. You had to share rooms, and Mattheo, leaving no room for negotiation, insisted that you would share with him. The problem was, there was only one bed. From uncovering feelings to heartbreak, it was a night you wouldn't forget.

Warning: angst,fluff,strong language, hints of smut .

Words:5,5k + Bonus scene.

When we arrived back home, I quickly said goodbye to the boys, avoiding eye contact with all of them. I couldn't bear to see their pity or confusion. I just wanted to escape to the solitude of my room. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against it, finally allowing myself to break down. Tears streamed down my face as I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest.

There was only one week left before returning to Hogwarts, and I knew I would have to face them—most of all, Mattheo. The thought of seeing him again made my stomach churn. During that week, I waited for him to reach out, to say something, anything, that would make sense of what happened. But he didn’t. The silence from him was deafening, and it drove me insane.

All the other boys sent me messages as usual. Even Blaise, who had been so harsh, reached out, perhaps feeling guilty for his words. But not Mattheo. He ghosted me completely, and the pain was unbearable. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart would leap with hope, only to be crushed when it wasn’t him.

I spent days replaying our time together in my mind, trying to understand what went wrong. Had I misread everything? Was I just another conquest to him? The questions tormented me, and the lack of answers made it worse.

I remember that night vividly. The way he looked at me, the tenderness in his touch, the passion in his kisses—it all felt so real. But now, it seemed like a cruel illusion, a trick my heart played on me.

I tried to distract myself by throwing myself into reading, but every word I read seemed to blur into the memory of him. I’d catch myself staring at the same page for hours, lost in thoughts of his hands on my skin, his whispered words.

By the middle of the week, the weight of his absence was unbearable. I lay in bed, clutching my phone, scrolling through old messages, and torturing myself with his silence. The boys' messages were kind and casual, but they couldn't fill the void Mattheo left.

Enzo’s messages were the most frequent, always checking in on me, making sure I was okay. “Hey, how are you holding up?” he’d text, and I’d force myself to respond with a lie. “I’m fine, thanks,” I’d write back, even though I was anything but fine.

Blaise's messages were surprisingly considerate. “Sorry about the other day. Didn’t mean to upset you,” he’d said. I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with him; he had only voiced what I feared was true.

But Mattheo? Nothing. No calls, no texts, no attempts to explain or apologize. It felt like he had erased me from his life completely.

The pain was relentless, gnawing at me day and night. I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I had been before. I missed his voice, his laughter, the way he made me feel seen and cherished. I missed him so much it hurt to breathe.

The final straw came the night before we were due to return to Hogwarts. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and realized I couldn’t go on like this. I needed to confront him, to demand answers. I couldn’t start the new school year with this weight on my shoulders. I had to face him, even if it meant shattering my heart all over again.

I took a deep breath and picked up my phone, my fingers trembling as I typed out a message. “Mattheo, we need to talk. Please.” I hit send and waited, my heart pounding in my chest. Minutes felt like hours as I watched the screen, praying for a response.

But none came. The silence stretched on, suffocating me, and I knew that no matter what happened, I had to find a way to move forward. With or without him.

I boarded the train with a heavy heart, my eyes scanning the crowded platform. As soon as I found Enzo, I slid into the seat next to him, trying to muster a smile.

“Hi,” I said, glancing briefly at Mattheo, who was sitting across from us.

“Hey,” Mattheo replied, his voice neutral, his gaze avoiding mine.

Theo soon returned, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. “How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been okay,” I lied, forcing another smile. Before I could say more, Draco and Blaise joined us, making the compartment feel even more cramped and awkward.

“Hi,” Draco said, his voice soft, his eyes flicking between me and Mattheo. Blaise offered a similar greeting, his usual bravado toned down, as if he sensed the tension.

I tried to lose myself in my book, Emma another Jane Austen novel, hoping it would distract me from the unbearable atmosphere. But I could feel Mattheo’s eyes on me, and each glance was like a dagger to my heart. His stare was intense, and it made concentrating impossible.

“I’m going to say hi to Pansy,” I announced suddenly, grabbing my bag and book. I left the compartment quickly, not giving anyone a chance to respond.

As I walked down the corridor, I realized I couldn’t face Pansy either. She would ask questions, and I had no answers. I turned a corner, only to overhear a group of girls talking animatedly about their exploits.

“Enzo is amazing,” one girl said, giggling. “Blaise too, though he’s a bit too cocky for my taste.”

“Oh, Theo is a sweetheart,” another girl chimed in. “But Mattheo... God, he’s something else.”

My ears pricked up at his name, and I leaned closer, my heart pounding.

“What’s it like with Mattheo?” a third girl asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.

“He’s rough, but in a good way,” the first girl said, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “He barely looked at me, but I didn’t mind. It felt so good. He didn’t kiss me, though, just... did his thing and left.”

My heart pounded as I continued to listen, hiding behind the corner.

"God, I'd do anything to sleep with Mattheo again," the first girl said, her voice filled with a mix of longing and frustration. "But he doesn't sleep with the same girl twice."

"Yeah, he's got a reputation for that," another girl chimed in. "And yet, somehow, they all are so different with her you know??," she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

" Y/N right? What's so special about her anyway?" a third girl asked, her voice filled with venom.

"She's always hanging around them, like she's one of them. I can't understand how she managed to get in their group."

"I bet they all fucked her at some point," the first girl said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you think they share her? She's their slut for sure."

"I know right?," another girl agreed, her laughter harsh and cruel. "I mean, how else would she keep their attention? She must be really good in bed."

"Or maybe she just does whatever they want," the third girl added. "So pathetic, really. Always trying to act like she's so special. I bet she’s just a desperate little slut."

My heart pounded as I continued to listen, hiding behind the corner.

"Yeah, spreads her legs for any of them at the drop of a hat," another girl sneered. "She's probably been passed around like a party favor."

"And they act so protective of her," the first girl said with a bitter laugh. "I can't imagine why. What do they see in her?"

"They must be playing some kind of game," the third girl suggested. "Maybe seeing who can screw her over the most."

My heart beat faster and faster, each cruel word piercing deeper. Tears blurred my vision as I stepped away from the corner, desperate to escape their venomous gossip.

The world around me seemed to blur as I walked faster, not caring where I was going, just needing to get away. I collided with a strong chest, and looking up through my tears, I saw Mattheo.

"Why are you crying? “ His voice was sharper than a knife

“Who did this to you?" He asked once more when I didn’t answer his hands gently cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears.

I pulled away, my voice shaking. "I'm not talking to you," I said, the tears flowing freely. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my hand.

"Stop it. Let me go," I demanded, trying to pull free from his grip.

"Not unless I know what got you crying like that," he insisted, his eyes filled with the same loving and caring expression that had once made my heart soar.

I looked away, the pain and confusion overwhelming me. "Just go and ignore me like you have been for the past week, or whatever," I said, my voice bitter. "Pretend I don't exist. You're good at that."

His face fell, looking speechless for a moment. I didn’t wait for him to respond. I pulled away, breaking into a run until I found an empty compartment far away from everyone. I slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the seat, sobbing uncontrollably.

The cruel words of the girls echoed in my mind, mingling with the confusion and heartbreak of Mattheo's unexpected concern. Why did he have to care now, after leaving me in silence for a week?

As the train rumbled on, I curled up on the seat, hugging my knees to my chest. The weight of everything pressed down on me, and I felt utterly alone. I had no answers, only questions that seemed to multiply with each passing moment. Why had he treated me so tenderly, only to disappear? And why did it hurt so much to see that same tenderness now, when I was already so broken?

Why had Mattheo been so different with me? Cause I’m pretty sure I wasn’t imagining that night and from what I heard from those girls it seems like he’s a different person from the one they are talking about .

I had a long time trying to explain to the boys why I suddenly disappeared and never returned. They didn’t look convinced, and their probing questions made it clear they weren’t buying my excuses.

Days passed, and I tried to put some space between me and all of them. It wasn’t easy. Draco cornered me in the common room one evening, his eyes filled with concern. "Something happened," he said, his voice low and insistent. "Tell me what it is."

"I'm fine, Draco. It's just family drama," I lied, my stomach twisting with guilt.

"You’ve been skipping meals and acting different," Theo added, joining us with a frown. "This isn’t like you."

"I told you, it’s family stuff," I insisted, hating how naked I felt under their scrutiny. It was like they could see right through my facade.

"Just...let us help," Draco pleaded, but I shook my head, turning away from their worried gazes.

Over the next few days, I was in a bit of a slump. Not only did I skip meals, but I also skipped more classes than usual. If I could have, I would have skipped the whole week, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

I grabbed my bag and walked through the courtyard, I overheard a girl talking loudly to her friends. "She's such a slut," she sneered, and my steps faltered. "I bet she's been with every Slytherin boy."

I stopped, my blood boiling. I turned around and marched over to her, my fists clenched. "What did you say?"

The girl looked taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered. "I said you're a slut. Everyone knows it."

The rage bubbling inside me reached a boiling point. "You think you know me? You think you can talk about me like that? Here’s a newsflash for you: I don’t need your approval or your pathetic opinions.“

Before she could respond, a boy next to her smirked. “Yeah, I’d love to fuck you just like the whole Slytherin boys have. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

I stepped closer, my fists clenched at my sides. "Why don’t you come a bit closer and say that to my face?" I said, my voice trembling with rage.

The crowd that had gathered around us watched with wide eyes and open mouths. "What's wrong?" the girl taunted. "Truth hurts?"

“Do you think it makes you look strong, demeaning someone you don’t even know? Do you think you’re better than me because you can spread lies and gossip? You’re pathetic. You think I care about what you say? The only thing that matters is that I know the truth, and that scares you, doesn’t it? Because deep down, you know you’ll never be anything more than a coward hiding behind cruel words.”

The girl, emboldened by the attention, added, "Your family must be so proud of you. What a disgrace."

"Shut your mouth," I said, stepping closer, my eyes burning with anger. "I don’t care what you think of me, but if you ever talk about my family again, you’ll regret it."

She looked a bit scared but tried to stand her ground. "Or what? You'll hit me? No wonder why your dad left,""

I saw red. I lunged at her, my fist raised, but strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. "Let go!" I yelled, struggling against the hold.

"Not her, not now, love," Mattheo's voice whispered in my ear, calming yet firm. He started to pull me away from the mess, his grip gentle but unyielding.

"Mattheo, let go of me," I insisted, trying to break free.

"Not until you calm down," he replied, his eyes full of concern. "I can't let you get into trouble over this."

He guided me into an empty hallway with a balcony, a secluded spot even the ghosts avoided. I was still shaking with rage, my breathing ragged. "Who do you think you are? Don’t touch me! Stay away!" I shouted, pushing at his chest.

"Just breathe, my love," he murmured, his hands cupping my face gently, thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Breathe with me."

His touch, his voice, started to pierce through the fog of anger. I took a shaky breath, then another, my heartbeat slowly steadying.

"Look at me," he said softly, tilting my chin up so our eyes met. "Every single one who talks bad about you is going to regret it. They’re going to wish they were dead before they ever said a word."

"Why do you act like this?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "You act like you care, like you—" I faltered, trying to find the right words. "Your mixed signals are driving me crazy! You pull me closer just to walk away after."

He looked pained, his eyes searching mine for understanding, but he said nothing.

"Say something!" I pleaded, tears welling up. "Anything!"

Still, he remained silent, and the silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the rest of the boys appeared. Blaise was the first to speak, his gaze flicking between me and Mattheo. "You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Theo stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "This happened before, didn't it?"

I took a deep breath, nodding again. "Yes."

Draco crossed his arms, his expression softening. "Well, that explains why you were acting distant. You should have told us."

"I didn't know what to say," I admitted, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Enzo's voice was gentle as he asked, "What happened before?"

I glanced at Mattheo, who was watching me with an unreadable expression. I couldn't bear his eyes on me anymore. Looking back at Enzo, I said quietly, "It was on the train."

Their eyes widened as I recounted the overheard conversation, the cruel words that had been said about me, and how it had all culminated in the confrontation just now. Mattheo's gaze never left me, and I knew what he was thinking, but I couldn't deal with it anymore.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I just... I need to go to my dorm. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Enzo stepped forward, his concern evident. "I'll walk you."

I nodded, unable to look at Mattheo as I turned to leave. Enzo fell into step beside me, his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos.

The next day, as I walked into class, I was met with an unexpected wave of greetings and offers of help.

"Hey, need any notes from yesterday?" asked one girl, her smile bright and friendly.

"I saved you a seat," another girl said, gesturing to the spot next to her.

"Do you need a quill? I've got an extra," someone else offered, holding out a shiny new quill.

I looked around, confused by the sudden change in behavior. These were the same people who had ignored me or worse, whispered behind my back just a day ago. Before I could process it, a group of girls approached, all smiles and compliments.

"Your hair looks amazing today," one of them said, her tone overly enthusiastic.

"Yeah, and your shoes are so cute!" another added.

"Thanks," I muttered, bewildered by their sudden interest.

Then, the girl from yesterday's confrontation appeared, looking hesitant. She took a deep breath and stepped closer. "I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday," she began, her voice shaky. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean any of it, and I feel terrible."

I stared at her, trying to make sense of this abrupt apology. "Why are you apologizing now?" I asked, suspicion creeping into my voice.

Before she could respond, I noticed him. The boy who had made that disgusting comment about me the day before. His arm was in a sling, supported by a wooden splint, and his face was a mess of blue and purple bruises. He had a black eye, swollen nearly shut.

"I, uh, fell down the stairs," he mumbled, not meeting my gaze.

I looked between the two of them, realization dawning. My stomach churned, and I felt the sudden urge to get out of there. Grabbing my things, I bolted from the classroom, not stopping until I was far from the castle. I found myself in a hidden garden, a place where I often went to think.

I sat down on the ground, trying to calm my racing heart and catch my breath. I wasn't dumb. I knew what had really happened. I knew who was behind the sudden wave of attention, the apologies, the broken bones. It wasn't hard to piece it together.

Mattheo.

But clarity seemed a distant dream. I leaned back against the tree, closing my eyes, and tried to find a moment of calm amidst the chaos Mattheo had left in his wake.

I stayed in the garden for what felt like hours, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the turmoil. Eventually, I knew I would have to face him, to confront what had happened and what it meant. But for now, I just needed to breathe.

I felt someone approaching and sat beside me. I looked up and met Mattheo’s eyes. He was holding a book in his hand.

I felt someone approaching and sat up, my heart pounding. When I looked up, I met Mattheo’s eyes. He was holding a book in his hand.

"I—I got this for you," he said, his voice soft.

I glanced at the book, then back at him, and took it from his hand. It was Persuasion, another Jane Austen's novels. My heart beat even faster as I muttered a thank you. Then I noticed the blood on his hands, despite his clear attempts to wash it off.

He asked, "What were you reading on the train?"

I stared at him, incredulous. "You’re seriously asking me about my books while having blood on your hands? and probably terrorized the whole school before coming here!" I shouted.

He just smirked. "Are you insane, Mattheo? Seriously, what the hell?" I yelled again.

He raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I told you they were going to regret what they said yesterday, didn't I?"

"I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help," I snapped, trying to walk away, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me back until my back hit the tree.

"I know," he said.

I rolled my eyes and looked away, trapped between his hands on either side of my face and the tree behind me. His closeness was overwhelming.

"You’re insane," I muttered.

"Well, I need to talk to you, and you left me no other choice," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled sarcastically. "You kidding me? Because as much as I remember, you were the one who left after—" I stammered, my face turning red, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes, my love, after what?" he asked, smiling even wider.

"After I went down on you? Or when I had my finger deep inside you?" he continued, his voice low and teasing. I put my hands over his mouth, desperate to stop him.

"Oh, Lord, stop," I said, my voice a whisper. He kissed my hand, sending a jolt through me, and I pulled it away quickly, my face burning even more.

"Don’t go shy on me now, love. I’m pretty sure I kissed more intimate parts," he said, leaning closer to whisper in my ear. "I've had your taste on my tongue for weeks."

I tried to hit him in the chest, but he grabbed both my hands with one hand, pinning them above my head.

“Listen,” he said, getting more serious. “Enzo told me about what Blaise said that day.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I really want to know another tale about you with a girl in bed.”

“Another tale?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I looked him in the eyes, my voice trembling with both anger and hurt. “I heard what that girl said on the train. About how good you were in bed, how you liked it rough, just did the job and left with no kisses. She wasn’t even complaining, Mattheo. She said she’d do anything to sleep with you again, but it’s too bad because you don’t sleep with the same girl twice."

“Did she now?” he said, smirking.

“Fuck you, Mattheo,” I said, trying to pull away, but his hold was too strong. “Fuck you so much. I get it. I was delusional to think it was more than a one-time thing for you because you don’t sleep with the same girl twice, you don’t—” My voice cracked, betraying my emotions.

"Did it look like a fucking one-time thing back then, Y/N?" he demanded, sharp and serious. I avoided his gaze, my anger and pain battling inside me.

"Answer," he insisted, his face inches from mine. I looked up at him, the intensity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.

"No," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

"Because it fucking wasn’t," he said. "It wasn’t a simple fuck. I was making love to you, and that freaked the shit out of me." The veins in his neck stood out as he spoke, his eyes blazing.

I blinked, trying to process his words. "So, yes," he continued, his voice lower but no less intense, "what the girl said was right. I’ve fucked other girls like that. Rough, fast, no strings attached. Just getting off and moving on. No kisses, no tenderness, just raw and dirty, didn’t look at them more than I had to.”

My breathing grew heavier as his words sank in.“So, does it look like that now?” he asked, his voice softer but still intense. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed.

“Fucking look at me Y/N,” he commanded, and I looked up at him, shaking my head.

“Every time I look at you, at those lips,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, “all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you. How much I want to taste you. How much I want you in every way. It’s not just about fucking. It’s about you. Every part of you, that night... you were in my arms, and I managed to sleep. You have no idea how rare that is for me.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, my body responding despite my confusion. I could feel the heat between us, the undeniable pull that had always been there.

I looked at him, standing there, rain-soaked and intense, and the tears kept falling from my eyes.

“And no, I don’t want you to be my friend,” he continued, his voice rising. “I want to hear you moaning my name. I want to have you, all of you. To kiss every inch of you. To make you smile, to see you laugh. To put your happiness above anything because nothing else matters. Nothing but you.”

His words were raw, cutting through the rain and my confusion. The sheer intensity of his confession left me breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the pull, the magnetic force between us, stronger than ever.

“I’ve tried to stay away, to keep my distance,” he went on, his voice breaking slightly. “But every time I see you, it’s like a punch to the gut. I’m fighting a losing battle. I don’t just want you. I need you. In every way possible.”

I stood there, soaked and trembling, unable to speak. His words had stripped me bare, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. The rain continued to pour, a relentless backdrop to his declaration.

“So tell me, do you understand now?” he asked again, his voice softer.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. The truth of his words was undeniable, resonating deep within me. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, and met his gaze.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I understand.”

He reached out, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I will be so good to you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing my skin. “I would do anything for you. I fucked up, and I—”

I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his, cutting him off. For a moment, he was surprised and didn’t kissed me back, I pulled back, looking him in the eye. And as if a dam had broken, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were soft but insistent, demanding and giving all at once. I felt his hands on my waist, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his hips as he held me against him, the kiss growing more passionate. The rain poured down, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else.

His tongue parted my lips, and I opened to him, the taste of him intoxicating. He kissed me with a fervor that made my head spin, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel the hard lines of his body, the heat between us almost unbearable.

"Wait," I managed to gasp, pulling back slightly. "The book, the rain—"

"I'll get you a new one," he promised, his voice fierce, breathing heavily against my lips. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling gently until my face tilted up to meet his gaze. Then he kissed me again, more fiercely this time, as if he couldn’t get enough.

I melted into him, my hands clinging to his shoulders as he devoured me. His lips moved over mine with a raw, desperate need, and I responded with equal fervor. The world around us disappeared, the rain, the cold, everything fading away until there was only him, only us.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine. "Come with me," he murmured, his voice a soft plea. "Let's get out of this rain."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest, his hand slipping into mine, and we ran through the rain. We found shelter under a nearby awning, the sudden silence after the roar of the rain almost surreal.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and intense, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. "You're soaked," he said, his voice gentle, as he brushed a strand of wet hair from my face.

"So are you," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Well, we make a pretty pair then," he teased, his hand settling on my waist.

I laughed, the sound light and carefree, a stark contrast to the storm still raging around us. "We do, don't we?"

His gaze softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I've never seen anyone look so beautiful soaking wet."

I rolled my eyes playfully, running a hand through his wet hair. "You're just saying that because you want to kiss me again."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe. But it's true." His lips hovered over mine, the anticipation making my heart race. "And for the record, I do want to kiss you again. Very much."

"Then what are you waiting for?" I challenged, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn't need any more encouragement. His lips captured mine in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, his hand tightening on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the warmth of his body through the wet fabric of our clothes, the contrast to the chill of the rain making my skin tingle.

As the kiss deepened, his free hand slid up my back, tangling in my hair. I moaned softly against his lips, the sound making him groan in response. He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against my skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "The things I want to do to you."

My cheeks flushed, and I looked down, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness. "Like what?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I want to make you mine in every possible way," he said, his eyes burning with intensity. "I want to hear you scream my name, to see you come apart in my arms. I want to kiss every inch of you, to make you feel things you've never felt before."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the blush that was spreading across my cheeks. "You're making me blush," I whispered, my voice shaky.

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Good. I like it when you blush." He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "I like knowing I'm the one making you feel this way."

I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. His words, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming. "You're insufferable," I muttered, but there was no heat in my words, only affection.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "You love it," he teased, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my neck.

I sighed, my fingers threading through his hair as I leaned into his touch. "Yeah, I do," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Good," he said softly, his hand cupping my face. "Because I'm not letting you go."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the rain. "I don't want you to,".

"So, I really have done it in your Mr. Darcy way, haven't I?" he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I was always jealous of him, when you talked about him like that you know?"

Before I could respond, his mouth was on my neck, kissing and sucking gently, then more insistently. I let out a soft moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Perfect," he said, admiring his handiwork.

I laughed, breathless and flushed. "What was that for?"

He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "It's for Blaise. Since he loves to ask so much."

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress my smile. "You know he went on a date last night, right?"

"Did he now?" Mattheo replied, his fingers trailing down my arm. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

The possessiveness in his voice sent another thrill through me. "And what if I don't want to be claimed like some trophy?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine. "Then I'll just have to work harder to prove I deserve you," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his words seep into me. "You've already proven that," I said softly, kissing him again. "But I wouldn't mind seeing you try."

He laughed, the sound rich and joyful. "Challenge accepted."

We stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the rain a distant memory. His hands roamed over my back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through me. I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my chest, and knew that this was where I belonged.

"We should get inside," I said, glancing at the castle in the distance. "Before we catch our deaths."

"Right," he agreed, but made no move to let go. "But just one more kiss."

"Just one more," I echoed, leaning up to meet his lips again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Bonus scene ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

As we approached our usual spot, I saw Blaise, Enzo, Theo, Pansy and Draco already seated, with an unfamiliar girl sitting beside Blaise.

I caught Blaise’s curious gaze fixed on my neck. He raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Blaise said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Is that a hickey, Y/N?”

I felt my face heat up, and before I could muster a response, Mattheo leaned forward, his grin turning positively devilish.

“Yes, mate,” Mattheo said smoothly. “It is a hickey.”

Blaise’s eyes widened slightly before he broke into a laugh. “By whom, I wonder?”

Mattheo wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “By me, obviously,” he declared, his voice filled with pride. “Wanted to make sure everyone knows she’s mine.”

I blushed even deeper, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Draco looked between us, his grin widening. “Well, it’s about time. I was starting to think you’d never make a move.”

Mattheo chuckled, his hand moving to rest possessively on my waist. “Trust me, I’ve made plenty of moves. Just decided it was time to make it official.”

He winked at me. “Just make sure he treats you right. If not, you know where to find me.”

Mattheo tightened his hold on me, his eyes flashing with a playful warning. “She won’t need to, because I’m going to treat her better than anyone else ever could.”

I laughed, the tension melting away as I leaned into Mattheo’s embrace. “I think I can handle him.”

"So," Pansy said, leaning forward with an impish grin. "Does this mean you're off the market, then?"

"Consider me taken," Mattheo said, his voice firm. "And very happily so."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Tag list :

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[cece693]

Stupid Crush (Nico di Angelo x Son of Poseidon)

This was something that suddenly came to mind and I couldn't help myself :) Hope you enjoy it.

Summary: It wasn't just the fact that Nico had to reveal his crush on Percy in front of Cupid, but when your boyfriend, the twin brother of said boy, was also in attendance, Nico's life was destroyed.

tags: Nico confesses his crush on Percy, however he's dating you, reader is Percy's twin brother, things get angsty 😈

Nico’s heart pounded in his chest as Cupid’s mocking voice echoed around them, his magic coiling around Nico's soul like a noose. Jason stood on one side, his blue eyes wide with concern, while you—Percy’s twin brother and Nico’s boyfriend—were on the other. Cupid’s voice dripped with cruel amusement, cutting through the silence like a knife. "The truth, Nico di Angelo. Tell them who once held your heart."

Nico’s throat closed up, his worst nightmare unraveling before his eyes. This was the moment he had fought so hard to avoid—the truth he had buried deep within himself, even from you. But there was no escape now. Cupid’s magic tightened, pulling the confession from his lips like a venomous secret. "I…" Nico’s voice cracked, his fists trembling as he clenched them at his sides. "Percy Jackson."

The air in the room shifted. Your breath hitched, but Nico couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He knew what he would see—shock, hurt, betrayal, the crumbling of the trust you'd built together. The pain he’d been dreading. "What?" Your voice came out in a cold, broken whisper.

Nico swallowed hard, staring at the floor. "It was before I met you, before Percy got with Annabeth. I thought—" He stopped, the words turning to ash in his mouth.

But you could read between the lines. Now everything made sense, how Nico easily allowed you to befriend him; you weren't special, just a boy who shared the same face as someone Nico loved. Loves. "So, let me get this straight. You're only with me because my brother didn't return your feelings? Am I just your consolation prize?"

Nico’s head snapped up, panic swelling in his chest. "No! No, it’s not like that!"

Your eyes narrowed, fury replacing the initial shock. "Really?" you spat, taking a step toward him. "Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you settled for me when you couldn’t have Percy."

Nico’s voice wavered as he pleaded, desperate to make you understand. "I didn’t settle! I chose you because I love you. That crush…it was stupid. It doesn’t mean anything anymore!"

But Cupid’s laughter echoed again, cruel and jagged like shattered glass. "Ah, but old feelings never truly die, do they, son of Hades?" The god’s voice teased, his presence hanging over them like a storm. "You can hide it, bury it, but the truth always has a way of surfacing." Nico had never wanted to strike down a god as much as he did now. "Now that the truth is out," Cupid continued, his mocking tone fading as his presence disappeared, "I'll leave you to deal with the consequences."

Silence fell, but the weight of Cupid’s words lingered like a blade pressed against Nico’s throat.

"You played me." Your voice, thick with unshed tears, barely above a whisper but laced with so much pain that it felt like a physical blow. "You say you love me, but if Percy hadn't chosen Annabeth…if he had even shown the slightest interest in you, would you still have ended up with me?"

Nico froze, the question like a dagger to his chest. He wanted to deny it, to say that nothing would have changed the way he felt about you. Perhaps your friendship did arise from some misguided crush on Percy, but as time progressed, Nico fell in love with you. You. But even then it took time for him to distance who you and Percy were, sometimes it even stunned him how much you were alike, so if Percy did magically return his feelings, would Nico fall for you? His silence seemed to confirm your suspicions as your expression hardened.

"That’s what I thought."

Jason stepped forward, trying to break the tension. "Guys, come on. Maybe we should—"

"Stay out of it!" You snapped, your voice sharp enough to make him flinch. Jason took a step back, helplessly looking between you both, understanding that this was something beyond his control.

Nico reached out, desperate to grab your hand, to stop you from slipping further away, but you recoiled. "Don’t." Your voice was quiet but firm, the finality in that one word shattering the last bit of hope Nico had. "Just…don’t."

Nico could only watch as you turned away, disappearing into the shadows. Jason hesitated for a moment before following after you, leaving Nico alone in the cold, empty chamber, the weight of what he had just lost settling deep in his bones.

When the three of you returned to the Argo II, the change in atmosphere was immediate. Gone was your usual bright demeanor, replaced by hollow eyes and the kind of blank expression that spoke of barely contained pain. Nico, too, was different. His usual quiet presence had shifted into something darker—his shoulders slumped under the weight of regret, his face pale as if he were just moments away from breaking.

The others exchanged worried glances but said nothing as you silently headed toward your cabin. The slam of the door reverberated through the ship, causing everyone to flinch, even Nico, whose eyes lingered on the door as if willing it to open and for everything to go back to how it had been. But it wouldn’t.

Hazel was the first to break the silence. "What happened?" she asked, her voice soft, her gaze fixed on Nico. When he didn’t respond, avoiding her eyes, she looked to Jason, who merely shook his head, pity etched across his features. "Nico," Hazel pressed gently, her worry growing. "You can talk to us."

But Nico didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped back, letting the shadows around him rise, and within moments, he was gone—leaving the others standing in silence.

Days had passed, but to Nico, each one felt like an eternity. Every hour that dragged on without your voice, without your gaze meeting his, was a torment he hadn’t anticipated. The coldness that had settled between you was suffocating. Whenever Nico approached, even just to be in the same room, you’d find some excuse to leave. He could sense it, the way you tensed whenever he was nearby, the way you averted your gaze, as if looking at him was too painful. And that hurt more than anything—knowing he was the cause of it.

The others noticed the growing distance between you two. The worried glances exchanged over meals, the whispers behind his back. Jason and Hazel, in particular, kept trying to reach out, but Nico had shut himself off. What could he say? How could he explain the rift when the mere thought of it made his chest ache? Even Leo, who usually cracked jokes at the dinner table, had grown more subdued, as if the tension in the air had smothered his usual cheer.

Nico couldn’t bear it anymore. He had to fix this—he had to at least try. He couldn’t stand the silence, the void that had replaced the closeness they once shared. So, one night, when the Argo II drifted quietly through the sky and everyone had retreated to their cabins, Nico ventured out onto the deck. The night was cool, the stars twinkling above like distant, indifferent observers to his misery. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.

You were there—alone, standing at the edge of the ship, staring out into the horizon. For a moment, Nico just watched you, his heart aching at how much he missed simply being near you. He could almost imagine everything was fine—that you were waiting for him, that you’d smile when he approached, kiss his forehead, and mention how he needed to take better care of himself.

Gathering his courage, Nico stepped forward, his footsteps soft against the deck. "Can we talk?"

You stiffened at his voice, but didn’t turn around. For a few agonizing moments, there was nothing but silence. Then, with a sigh, you spoke, your voice devoid of the warmth Nico so desperately missed. "I don’t know what there is left to say."

Nico’s heart sank, but he pressed on. "Please, just let me explain."

At that, you turned to face him, and Nico saw the exhaustion in your eyes. The sleepless nights, the weight of betrayal, all of it etched into your features. "Explain what, Nico?" Your voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a coldness that made his chest tighten. "That you were in love with my brother? That you settled for me? That I wasn't your first choice? Do you think words are going to fix this?"

"No," Nico whispered, stepping closer, his voice strained with the weight of everything he wanted to say. "No, I don’t think words can fix it. But I never meant to hurt you. I—" He paused, swallowing hard, trying to find the right words. "It was a crush. A stupid, meaningless crush. I didn’t choose you because of Percy. I chose you because of you."

Your eyes flickered with something—anger, hurt, betrayal—but you didn’t waver. "Then why didn’t you deny it when I asked you? Why didn’t you just say that nothing could have changed how you felt about me? Why did you hesitate?"

Nico opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. He hadn’t known what to say back then, and even now, he was at a loss. How could he explain that moment of doubt without sounding like the worst kind of person?

"You see?" You shook your head, your expression hardening. "You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell me that I wasn’t just second best. But, do you know what hurts the most? It’s not just that you had feelings for Percy. It’s that a god had to force you to tell the truth. If Cupid hadn’t intervened…how long would you have strung me along? How long would I have been in the dark while you carried this secret? Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I—" Nico started, his voice faltering. "I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I didn’t want you to get hurt. It was just a crush. Something stupid. And I thought I’d gotten over it, I swear." He took a step closer, his eyes pleading with you to understand. "I grew a crush on Percy when we were younger—when I first came to camp. He was the hero. Brave, kind...everything I wasn’t. And I thought, maybe if I could be near him, maybe I’d feel like I belonged."

Nico’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he remembered those days, the confusion, the hope, and the loneliness that had followed. "But it wasn’t real. Not like what I feel for you. Percy was this…this idea in my head, someone I admired from afar. But you—" His voice broke, his eyes locking onto yours with desperation. "You were real. You saw me for who I am, all the broken parts, and still cared. What I feel for you isn’t some crush or fantasy. It’s love. I love you."

You shook your head, your face twisted with both anger and pain. "But how am I supposed to believe that, Nico? After everything? How do I know you aren’t still lying to yourself or to me? You say it’s love, but how do I trust that?"

Nico felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him. He couldn’t lose you—he couldn’t. "I’m not lying," he insisted. "I swear it. On the River Styx, on my mother, on Bianca—on everything I hold dear—I love you. I don’t care about Percy anymore. What I had for him was nothing compared to what I feel for you."

The solemn weight of Nico’s oath filled the air, the magic of the River Styx sealing his words, making them unbreakable. The sky seemed to darken for a moment, a rumble of thunder far in the distance, confirming the binding nature of his vow.

But you didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. Your eyes, once filled with love, now only reflected the deep wounds left behind. "Maybe you believe that, Nico," you said softly, but the coldness in your voice made it clear that something between you had shifted, something that could never be undone. "But I can’t anymore. I can’t keep going, wondering if I’ll ever fully have your heart. Because that shadow—the one you said lingered over you—it’ll always be there, won’t it?"

Nico’s breath hitched, the weight of your words crushing him. He wanted to scream, to beg, to prove that you were wrong. That there was no shadow, no lingering doubt in his heart. But his silence, that hesitation back in Cupid’s lair, had already broken something vital between you. And now, no matter what he swore on, no matter how much he begged, you didn’t believe him anymore.

Tears pricked at Nico’s eyes as he realized that he was losing you, that you had already made up your mind. "Please…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please don’t go."

You looked at him for a long, painful moment, and Nico thought—hoped—that maybe there was still a chance. But then, you shook your head, and turned away, leaving him standing there, the solemn weight of his oath ringing hollow in the night air. Nico felt the cold wind biting at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness that had settled deep within him as he watched you walk away. Alone, once again.

[cutielando]

2 hands | c.l.

synopsis: in which you're falling apart

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

The lights of Monte Carlo twinkled against the night sky, the city alive with its usual hum of luxury and life.

But here, in Charles’ apartment, the air felt heavier than it usually did.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, your arms crossed over your chest, watching Charles as he paced back and forth.

He was running his hands through his hair, his frustration very evident and palpable, stinging you and tugging at your heart more than you cared to admit.

“Just say it, Charles” you whispered, finally breaking the heavy silence that lingered in the room.

Charles stopped, turning around to face you with an expression that held equal hurt and exasperation at your words.

“Say what, huh? That I can’t do this with you anymore? That no matter how hard I seem to try, I feel like I’m giving you everything and it still doesn’t seem to be enough? Is that what you want me to say?” he said, how voice broken and strained.

This was hurting him just as much as it was hurting you, which is what you hated the most about it.

Your breath hitched at his words. The emotions were raw, unfiltered, and his words echoed something you’d been afraid of confronting by yourself.

“You think I don’t know that?” you began, your voice no louder than a whisper. “You think I don’t see how much you’re giving me? I do, Charles. God, I see everything, believe me. But sometimes it feels like you’re holding everything together with your two hands and I’m over here, barely holding myself together” you confessed, all of the frustrations from the past months finally boiling over.

Charles’ expression softened and his shoulders sagged, the anger and hurt giving way for something more vulnerable.

He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours desperately.

“Why won’t you let me in, Y/N? I’ve always been here, willing to help you every step of the way, to carry some of the weight for you. Why won’t you let me help you?” he asked, his voice soft, but with a tinge of desperation.

He couldn’t bear to see you hurting and knowing that he couldn’t do anything to help you. He hated feeling this helpless while you were clearly struggling.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you furiously blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

“Because I don’t know how, Charles. I don’t know how to let you be the one holding me up. I’m so used to doing everything on my own, the thought of leaning on you for help simply terrifies me” you explained, your voice tired.

Charles reached out to you, hesitating for a moment before gently taking your hands in his.

His thumbs traced soft, soothing circles over your skin, grounding you in a way that you hadn’t realized you had needed all this time.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Y/N. You don’t need to have it all figured out. I don’t care if you’re messy, if we’re going to be a mess for a while. I just want to be there for you, but I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out” he said quietly.

The sincerity in his voice cracked something open deep inside of your soul.

You let out a shaky breath, the tears finally spilling over as you slowly nodded your head, your lips pursed.

“I’m scared, Charles, but I don’t want to lose you because of this” you admitted, taking in a sharp breath.

He smiled sadly before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm and reassuring embrace.

“You’re not going to lose me, Y/N. We’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here” he whispered in your ear.

You buried your face in his chest, the weight of your emotions finally finding a release as he held you.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry everything on your own.

Because now you had Charles, and you didn’t need anything else other than him.

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[niniwritesxo]

‘tell me to stop and i will’

kang dae-ho x fem reader

part two of ‘please’

——————————————————————————

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of Dae-ho’s ragged breathing. His hands lingered at his sides, clenched into fists, as if he was trying to hold himself back. But his eyes, his eyes were locked on yours, intense and unyielding, pulling every thought from your head until all that remained was the weight of him standing so close.

“I should go,” he muttered, though he made no move to leave. His voice was low, uneven, and the way his gaze flickered to your lips betrayed every word he’d just said.

“Then go,” you replied softly, though the words felt hollow even as you said them.

He let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. “You don’t mean that.”

Your stomach twisted, and before you could respond, he took a step closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hands hovered near your waist, like he wanted to touch you but didn’t trust himself to.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was an edge to it, a challenge. “Tell me, and I will.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse thundering in your ears. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. The words wouldn’t form, trapped somewhere between your mind and your heart.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “If you want me to leave, just say it.”

But you couldn’t.

His hand rose slowly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered against your cheek, and the tenderness in the gesture made your chest ache. “You don’t want me to stop,” he said, almost to himself, like he was trying to convince himself it was okay.

Your skin burned where his hand touched, and you felt your face heat as the weight of his words settled over you. “I—” You faltered, the sound of your own voice foreign and unsteady.

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re so damn stubborn,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your jawline. “Even now, you won’t admit it.”

Your breath caught as his hand slid to the back of your neck, his touch firm but careful. The air between you felt impossibly thick, and the tension was so sharp it almost hurt.

“Dae-ho…” you started, but your voice betrayed you, shaking just enough for him to notice.

“Don’t,” he said quickly, his forehead nearly brushing yours. “Don’t say my name like that unless you want me to go insane y/n.”

You swallowed hard, the words tangling in your throat. The weight of him, his presence, his intensity, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him standing was almost too much.

“I’m not going to stop unless you tell me to,” he said again, his voice low and steady, his lips just a breath away from yours.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

And then, like a dam breaking, his lips found yours. The kiss was deep, deliberate, like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, the feel of you, as though this moment was something he couldn’t let slip away.

Your hands moved without thought, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if to keep yourself grounded. The world around you faded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything else fell away.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, though his grip on you didn’t loosen. “I just… I couldn’t stop myself.”

You shook your head, still catching your breath. “Don’t apologize,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find some kind of reassurance. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly.

“You won’t,” you replied, your voice soft but firm. “You won’t lose me, Dae-ho.”

The relief in his expression was subtle but unmistakable. And as his hand lingered at the nape of your neck, you knew that whatever came next, you weren’t letting go of each other.

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: angst at the beginning, sexual tension, mutual pining, mentions of nausea but from nerves, hints of jealousy, sneaking around, kissing, allusions to smut

wc: 14.1k

A/N: It didn't take a month for Roe to update, SUCCESS! The slow burn is finally burning folks. @andvys always proofreads, so a lovely shoutout to the bestie 💕

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 19

He was scared.

He was so scared.

He didn’t know what he was feeling or what is what he should be feeling at all. Who was he? Who is he? What is he? How can he live like this?

“Son, I told you I would protect you, no matter what. I got the best doctors–”

“I’m a fucking freak! Why me!? I have it rough in life as it is, and now I have to live with this fucking condition!?” He was crying into his hands, sobbing, not caring if he was smearing his mucus all over him because in his sixteen years of life, he never thought he would have a physical condition to live with apart from the emotional one. The turmoil and hurricane of trauma and emotions he was born into, and now he had to add this shit on top of all of that.

“You are the strongest boy I’ve ever met, and this– this is new Eddie, but I’m glad I could come across Dr. Murray… He was the only one who identified it.” Everything was so expensive. Everything his uncle had to pay and put himself in debt for Eddie to be checked and for medicine that did nothing until this mysterious man helped him and now he is better, even if it’s just little. 

“New!? I– How can someone live like this!? It hurts and I feel like I’m losing myself each second it passes!” He felt so angry, his sobs becoming rougher, more like groans rather than cries. His breathing became heavy as he looked at his uncle who was trying to be strong for his nephew, his features twitching as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in a gulp.

“I know, I know–”

“NO YOU DON’T!” And Eddie’s hand grabbed the lamp that was on his night table and simply ripped it off the wall, the light going off, and then he sent it flying against his closet door, shattering the bulb and breaking the top cap from the metal. He was panting, feeling his body as if it were in the pits of hell, and he was so angry, just furious and filled with rage, but–

He looked at his hands, trembling as he frowned in worry, because he never intended to smash his lamp. He never intended to have an outburst like this but he couldn’t help it. It was too late when his body reacted before his mind did. Wayne was standing next to him with widened eyes, glossed over, and he slowly embraced his nephew in a tight hug.

“Son…” And Eddie only cried into his uncle’s shoulder, holding tightly onto him. How is he supposed to live like this? With these outbursts? With this way of living? How is he going to afford it? Is there a chance to have friends with someone like him? A lover? 

Will he remain lonely forever?

He grumbled in his sleep, shifting on the bed as he moved to his side. He was slowly gaining consciousness once again, hearing soft droplets of rain smashing against the window, and a distant thunder being heard. His nose picked up scents, various ones. The most potent one though was floral, a perfume. That made him open his eyes.

He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with his hands and letting out a big yawn. His eyes were still squinting from just waking up but he looked around to find himself in your room, and it was not a surprise to him at all. He looked down on himself to see the shirt he lent you when you passed out after your first kiss. Eddie groaned as he stretched out, putting his hands all the way up, feeling his back pop.

“Shit…” He exclaimed and sighed out as he relaxed once more, a bit more awake now. He looked at the floor, seeing his clothes from the night before there, while yours were on the chair against your desk. He eyed the black dress, remembering it bunched up on your stomach as you bounced on him. He closed his eyes as he gathered his thoughts, trying to forget how good you looked taking him, or how you moaned his name, or rather screamed it, or how you drooled–

He groaned as he felt himself growing a bit hard, opening his eyes to throw the sheets off him so he could glare at the bulge of his boxers. He is definitely not coming out of your room until that dies down a bit. He sighed as he sat at the edge of your bed, feet on the wooden floor. He looked to the side to see a picture of you and Robin at work so it seemed. You were half smiling, while Robin was full of teeth in the picture. He wondered if this was taken when you barely moved here, your expression rather cold than excited, compared to how you were now.

He stood up from the bed to walk towards your desk, seeing a picture now of yourself and your mom in your teenage years, probably when you were fifteen or sixteen. That age made Eddie’s eyebrow twitch, but he focused on your mom. You had her eyes. He wondered what your father looked like, someone you haven’t talked much about with him, and he doesn’t see a picture of him around your room.

He turned to look at your vanity now, a smirk appearing on his lips as he remembered how the two of you played cat and mouse the day of the club. He remembers your face, watching you in the mirror while you remained oblivious. He could see and sense how much you were thinking, how conflicted with your arousal towards him you felt. He grabbed your perfume and he sniffed the cap of it, a shiver being sent through his entire system. 

Eddie put it down and then he could the other scents again. Coffee and something sweet. Pancakes? Maybe waffles. Should he put pants on to greet you? He frowned at that thought process because– who the fuck cares at this point?

But he couldn’t deny the nerves he was feeling, because he didn’t know what was really going to happen when he walked out of this room. He didn’t know what he wanted you to say, or what he wanted you to do. There’s one thing he knew. His eyes went to your bed, remembering the night before after the two of you got to your house.

You two didn’t talk at all. The only words were that he could take anything from the fridge and then him asking if you had something for him to wear for bed. Then it was him offering to sleep on the couch but you had denied it, telling him it would be hypocritical to do that now. He couldn’t agree more, and after each of you took turns in the bathroom, you slipped into your bed.

Someone would have probably gotten the itch to touch again, to feel the other person once more, to kiss them and hold them, but as soon as his head touched your pillow, and his eyes closed, he was gone. He didn’t know how exhausted he was, and that was probably because of just how much of him he released yesterday night. He had been trying to satisfy himself the entire week and nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it felt with you. 

And now, the thing he knows is what he wants on that bed of yours. He doesn’t want to just sleep on it next time. He wants to make a mess out of it, probably break it, make you buy a new one since he knows with whom you shared that bed with. A bastard that could not change an inch for you. A bastard who didn’t deserve you at all after how selfish he was with you. Yeah… he wants to break that fucking bed so you could get a new one. One you would baptize with him. A bed you would have only used with him.

He shook his head in shock, pressing his fingers against his forehead, trying to push those kinds of thoughts away. Fuck– He has to keep that shit in check. It doesn’t happen often, and it shouldn’t happen with you. Especially not with you.

He clenched his jaw as he cracked his neck from side to side, taking deep breaths as he looked at your door. He then looked down at his boxers and– okay, good, it’s gone. He walked towards the night table again and picked up his ponytail, putting it in his mouth as he opened the door of your room and started putting his hair up in a bun, and in three steps he was in your living room. 

You were preparing the last batch of waffles, coffee ready in the pot. Syrup on the island counter as well as nutella and strawberries. You didn’t know what he liked, but he will have to eat whatever you have. You honestly didn’t know if you were going to be able to digest anything down because there was just a rollercoaster of nerves and it never stops, not until you two have a talk.

You heard the door opening and then barefoot steps, making your body flush in anticipation. You were wearing a loose silk long black camisole, very open and comfortable to sleep well and– it was pretty. You weren’t going to deny the fact you now felt like riling him up at any given chance, but you honestly didn’t think of it yesterday night. You could have changed this morning, but where was the fun in that?

But you knew that today was not for fun. You two had to talk. You two had to have a rational and adult talk about what was going on between you. You both cannot just go and say fuck it, you have to either have conditions or really look into the pros and cons of this situation.

But, first… you have to face him. So you turn your head over your shoulder to see him leaning against the door frame as he tied his hair up in the messy bun you know him for and fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is he doing to you? You fucked him two times only and you already want a third one? You have to control yourself. 

“That smells fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and he finished putting his hair up, finally looking up to see you. His body turned into a furnace in just a second, biting the inside of his cheek as he scanned the back of your legs, his eyes taking in every inch of exposed skin as he could. “Well, damn.”

No more hiding whenever you two check eachother out so it seems. It makes you feel weird, nice, but weird. You cleared your throat and pointed at the stool next to the island counter where the plates were.

“None of that. Sit down.” You quickly turned to take the last waffles out of the waffle maker and put them on the plate that already had six waffles on it. 

“Demanding. I like it.” A shiver ran down your spine at the compliment. It… was a compliment, wasn’t it? Or rather, a kinky remark. Your face heated up when you remembered how you acted the night before. Yeah, it was definitely because of that.

You unplugged the waffle maker and grabbed the plate, turning around to put it in the middle of the counter, in front of Eddie. You could sit next to him, but for the sake of keeping this civil and adultlike, you sit across from him, earning a soft chuckle from his part.

“Nothing…” He knew you were keeping distance in order not to come onto him, because he doesn’t know what he would have done to you if you sat next to him. He understands. A conversation has to be had first, and he will wait for you to start it, even if he wants to launch himself across the counter to have you on the kitchen floor. He prefers something else than the waffle he is serving himself on his plate as you fill the glasses with water.

“What’s so funny?”

You didn’t know how to start, the whole preparation of waffles done in complete silence. You saw how he put maple syrup as well as nutella, and– Your eyes went wide when he was putting everything you put on the table, including the strawberries and chocolate chips.

“Eddie, that’s– How can you eat that!?” You were surprised, not knowing he had a sweet tooth for this. Your own waffle was simple, whipped cream and strawberries. His? It was a monstrosity. He stopped mid squirting more chocolate syrup on his pancake and looked up at you with a squint of his eyes.

“I’m a growing man. I need my nutrients.” 

You stared at him in surprise and then you finally let out a snort, covering your mouth as you started laughing into it. You heard him follow you right behind and– you didn’t notice how tense you were. You didn’t notice just how hard your shoulders were even before he came into the kitchen, and this interaction finally made you relax because… he was still Eddie.

“Nutrients? That is a nuclear bomb, Munson!” 

“Bomb!? I take offense to that. This is barely something.” At that, you heard the squirt of the syrup as another gush of chocolate dripped down and you raised your hands to signal him to stop.

“Okay, enough! When I said you could take anything from the fridge, I didn’t mean for you to use up ALL of my things!” He shot a pouty lip your way and you shook your head at him as he put down the bottle of chocolate syrup. 

“This is a prison.” You rolled your eyes, but the nerves you felt flew away thanks to him breaking the ice. It almost looked like nothing happened between the two of you yesterday night, but the soreness in between your legs told you otherwise. You took this chance to take a bite out of your own waffle before your stomach closed up once more.

“Do you get waffles in prison?” You heard him chew and then talk with his mouth full, making you wince in disgust and scrunch up your nose at him.

“If you suck a cop’s dick, probably.” 

“Ugh–” You disgustingly looked away, clenching your eyes at the image. It wasn’t pleasant at all, but it still made you giggle, the ice breaking even more than before, letting you take another bite of your waffle. You were unaware of the intense gaze that was being directed your way right across the counter. 

He was glad to make you lose the tension you were carrying, but he really wanted to get this talk out of the way and know your true feelings or intentions with what the two of you had going on right now. He let you finish the waffle as he devoured his and he was about to start preparing a second one, but a clear of your throat made him look at you expectantly.

“Yes? I promise I’m not going to use all the nutella–”

“We have to talk.” You blurted out. The quicker you get this over with, the quicker you two can decide what route your friendship takes from today on. He blinked your way a few times and then took a sharp breath in, pushing the plate away to cross his arms over the table, leaning with his elbows. 

“Yeah, you start.” What? Fuck. What do you say? What do you ask? You didn’t really think of what to say of the situation or how to start talking about it. You felt your heart beating into your ears, the tension now back on your shoulder as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and licked it while keeping his gaze on you.

Oh, what an asshole.

“What the fuck are we doing?” It came out from deep within your soul. It was a question you have asked yourself the week before, and today as soon as you woke up and saw him sleeping next to you. What the actual fuck are you doing? What the fuck is he doing? Where do you both think this is going?

He was not prepared for that question. Taken aback, he sits a bit straighter in his stool, looking down at his food in thought. He had to be the most honest possible today, cause if he wasn’t, he might not have another night with you ever again.

“Fucking. That’s what.” You rolled your eyes at that answer. It wasn’t the one you expected even though you didn’t know exactly what you wanted.

“For fuck sake, that’s not what I meant, and you know that.” 

“Then what do you mean?” His eyes locked with yours again and you fought the butterflies that were disrupting your insides as you looked down at your plate.

“We… We couldn’t stand eachother before, then we finally built a friendship, a good one and–” You closed your eyes as you tried to look for words as carefully as possible but there was no need for that. He understood you, and he also had that same train of thought once. But then, he tasted you, and gone were all consequences from having more of you from his mind.

“I get it… We don’t have to lose that friendship, you know?” You scoffed at that, shaking your head.

“What if one day something goes wrong, like I mentioned before?” Your eyes locked with his again as you continued talking, pouring your thoughts out. “What if I get a partner one day? Or– you do? I don’t know if they’re going to let us keep talking to one another if they find out we slept with eachother. Multiple Times at that.” 

Oh… he didn’t think of that. He felt his stomach twist with distaste at your words, at your rationality. He hated the fact you were right, but he also hated the thought of not talking to you again… or was it hating the fact he might lose your touch someday? But he knows something you don’t–

“I don’t have the same chances to date as you do.” His eyes looked at his plate again and his words caught your attention, staring at his form. You could sense sadness coming from the way his shoulders are slightly slumped, yet still tense, signaling you it was a sensitive topic.

“Why do you say that?” He took a sharp breath in as he looked at you with a determined gaze, something that signaled you to stop asking questions, a shiver running from top to bottom in your body.

“I just know. But you are right, I didn’t think of that.” And he probably would have never thought about that possibility. You felt dejected by the way he changed the topic from him, and the memory of the flask in his bathroom cabinet came back to your mind. Was he sick? You knew there might be something going on with him, but you didn’t think it could be that serious. 

“Yeah…” You two remained silent for a while, the appetite gone as you looked at the plate before you. This was… not how you expected it to go either. Rationally, you should stop this, but deep down you really don’t want it to be over. Your stomach twisted, feeling regret for your choice of words or what you brought to the table that made Eddie be the one to back out this time.

You took a sip of your water as you heard him take another bite. You wondered what he was thinking right now. Maybe coming to terms you two have to go back to the way you were? Go back to your boring hook up tales? Fuck, you were not ready to go back to looking through your contacts to find someone to satisfy you, now knowing someone like Eddie exists. You jumped when you heard his rough voice talk again.

“I don’t want to stop this.” 

Your eyes widened slightly, gazing back up at him and his eyes were piercing through you, waiting for your reaction. Your belly did a flip, and your thighs tightened against one another and maybe you imagined it, but you saw one of Eddie’s lips twitch upwards for just a second. You gulped as you straightened up in your own stool. He was being honest with you, and maybe this time you could push rationality aside.

What’s wrong with some fun between friends?

“Me neither…”

The air in the room changed. It became heavy, almost humid, a tad suffocating. You saw his jaw clenching as he stared at you, and you couldn’t look away. It was almost as if he were hypnotizing you, telling you to come closer, to move towards him, but you remained seated, clearing your throat for him to continue the talk.

“Then, I guess we start establishing rules.” Your eyebrows raised in surprise to then squint at him in question as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, his plate in the middle, and his chin on top of his joined hands. You copied his stance, suddenly feeling as if this were some tense job meeting going on with him, a smirk breaking on his lips.

“Rules?”

“Yes. What we can and can’t do. What we like and what we don’t. And how we do this arrangement.” 

“How we do–” 

“If we schedule it for certain days, or if we simply call eachother up.” Oh. A pang of something stabbed you in the side of your stomach, feeling as if something was boiling inside of it.

“You seem experienced doing these kinds of arrangements.” He was looking at you with amusement in his eyes, his body starting to tremble with the need of touching you again for how you were acting once more with him.

“Jealous again?” You rolled your eyes as you shook your head.

“I am pointing out something that seems obvious, that’s all.” He hummed at your response. Bullshit, but this is not the time for some flirty bantering because it will end with you being railed into on top of this counter and the waffles you prepared on the floor.

“Okay, so, back to before, what’s it going to be?” He was curious for your answer, wondering if you were thinking the same thing he was. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought as you looked away from him to think. If you scheduled it, you would have a secured fuck once or twice per week… but if you two called eachother… maybe there’s more…

“I guess calling. It’s how I normally do it.” Oh you were a fucking– His jaw went to the side as he grinded his teeth together. He wasn’t going to be the only one pissed in here. 

“Good, same thought process.” You took a deep breath in as you controlled the burning anger inside your chest. So you were just a normal hook up to him, huh. You turned to look at him again, his eyes now more fierce than before and you felt a little smaller than you did seconds ago for whatever reason.

“What else?”

“Hmm… What we do and what we don’t.” Your eyebrows frowned for a second as you thought about that answer.

“Definitely not telling the group.” You remembered how Steve sighed of relief knowing you hadn’t slept with Eddie. It signaled you that you should never do it, yet here you are, having a talk with him on how to do this whole friends with benefits thing.

“Alright, I can agree on that one… Um, no acting awkward. Like I said I–” He wanted to be honest with you, feeling his heart clench in his chest as he pulled his arms back down, now pushing the plate away to cross them over the counter, leaning forward. “I want to keep the friendship with you. We have fun together and we laugh at what we send eachother and we talk about our days–”

“Yes.” You were happy. A small smile appeared on your lips as your shoulders lost the tension, putting your arms down and hands resting on your lap. He smiled back at you, leaning back again.

“Okay… Um… staying over?” It was an interesting question. He almost never spent nights with his hook ups, nor did he like them staying over, but he really does not mind it with you, in fact, he wants you to stay. Your hands felt sweaty all of a sudden as you flushed all over.

“I… don’t mind that.” He wanted to sigh of relief. It was two times in a row that you had woken up before him, and he really wanted to see you sleeping too. Wake up first to look at you for a while. He didn’t really know why he wanted to do that, but he was curious to know how you looked as you slept, and as you slowly woke up.

“Perfect… anything else?”

“Condoms are a must.” He rolled his eyes at you but nodded nonetheless. You were nervous at this other step, but since Eddie was probably going to be a very recurrent hook up– “And we need to get tested.”

“What?” He was shocked at your request, his eyebrows frowning in confusion as he stared at you. You took a nervous breath in and looked down at your lap as you played with your fingers.

“Yeah, I mean… It’s not like we are going to fuck once every two weeks…” He smirked at that, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Damn Peach, how many times are you planning to fuck me per week?” You felt burning on your cheeks, on your whole face as your eyes shot back up to look at him.

“I– I– That’s not what I meant! But–” Fuck, you dug this hole all by yourself. He laughed at your reaction and continued talking.

“I never said I disliked the idea.” Your eyes connected with his and the air didn’t enter your lungs for about three seconds. Fuck, he has you wrapped around his fucking finger, doesn’t he. He continued talking after nodding once, “Fine. We both get checked.” 

You sighed in relief, giving a nod as well in appreciation to his answer. You were getting checked either way, your annual visit already coming up. But if you were completely honest… you didn’t see yourself fucking someone else other than Eddie for a long while… you knew no one could fuck you or fill you the way he did, and for now, you are becoming a tad addicted to it.

“Thank you.” You waited to see if there were any other conditions he would like to comment on, but you saw him thinking, maybe trying to remember anything he might have missed. He looked good while he was in thought. Fuck. 

“That’s that. What about what we like?” He looked back at you and you felt a little bold after this talk, a new surge of confidence coming in now that you know you have him and he has you for an indefinite time. 

“I guess we can find out along the way.” He felt a chill run down his arms as he stared at you, surprised by your response, yet he couldn't help the twitch that was happening inside his boxers. Oh he wants to find it all out. He wants to know everything, if you like to be smacked, choked, tied up, pulled, manhandled to his liking, but he already knows that. He remembers how he held you up against the wall and you were in complete bliss from it, or how he smacked you yesterday and even if you were surprised, you didn’t tell him to not do it again. 

He wondered if you would let him put his hand around your throat.

The waffles were forgotten as the temperature in the room got hotter each second that passed, at each stolen glance and each breath taken. The hunger was now for something else entirely, and for him, it was sitting right across, and in between a pair of thighs. So why not take it after everything was said and done?

He got up from the stool, your breathing quickening as you saw him slowly round the counter, his hand gracing the marble on top and his eyes never left yours. Your thighs clenched again, or maybe it was something else that clenched, because you started feeling hot with need. How could it be? Your thighs hurt from the position of yesterday night, and you were obviously oversensitive, and it will probably be a tad painful at first but–

“How about we start finding out, Peach?”

Fuck. Now that the barrier was gone, the line was completely erased, and the only thing you had to do was wrap your arms around his neck to get him, it only made your belly yell in need of him. You’re in deep shit now. You turned around in your stool to slowly open your legs for him to step in between. He smirked at the action, his mouth salivating at the invitation and he licked the inside of his bottom lip as one of his hands came to hold the side of your face, stepping in between your parted thighs.

You closed your eyes as you let his touch render you stupid even if for just a second and he tilted his head with amusement. You’re gonna be the fucking death of him. You opened your pretty eyes, begging silently for him to do something, anything at all. His hunger for you grew, and his face started getting close to yours as your hands went to hold onto his waist, your breaths mixing with one another’s and–

RING.

Your heads snapped towards the kitchen door, and you both frowned in confusion at it. Eddie slowly turned to you, a low whisper in his lips.

“Were you expecting someone–”

And then, the yell of a frantic Robin calling out your name, “ARE YOU IN THERE!? ARE YOU ALIVE!?”

Your eyes widened as you gasped, your hands slamming against your mouth and then Eddie stared at you alarmingly as you moved down from the stool, him pulling away from you as you two went to the living room to look at the front door. You whispered to him, but it was more like a silent yell.

“I don’t– I don’t remember inviting her–” Realization hit you like a train wreck. Last night. In the middle of your endeavors with Eddie, when taking the condom out of your purse you had seen your phone glinting with notifications… and you never charged your phone when you returned… and when you woke up, checking your phone was the least of your problems. “Oh, fuck–”

“Peach, you’re a fucking–” He made a movement as if he wanted to strangle you but he contained himself when more banging was heard, making him jump.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE WITH SOMEONE IN THERE, BUT I’M COMING IN WITH MY SPARE KEY!” You gasped, pushing Eddie into your room, and your closet wasn’t big enough for a person to fit. You were both panicking and then you closed the door when you heard the lock of your front door being opened. 

“Don’t make a fucking sound!” You grabbed Eddie and threw him onto the bed, an oof coming out of him and before he could say anything, you immediately threw the comforter all over him. Your heart was in your throat as you heard Robin calling out your name in your living room. Act normal, for fuck sake act normal.

You got out of your room, tip toeing, pretending to close the door slowly, seeing Robin relax in her spot, her hand on her chest as she breathed heavily. You made a shushing sound as the door fully closed. You walked towards her, the vile lie appearing in your throat.

“What are you doing here!?” You whispered-yelled and she looked at you as if you had grown a second head, her eyes bulging out of her scalp as she waved her hands at you.

“Why the fuck are you whispering!? I haven’t heard from you since yesterday night! I know I was drunk but I remembered you left and–”

“Shh!!” You wildly signaled your door and she looked over your shoulder with a confused frown and then back at you, a whisper this time.

“Who the fuck is in there, and why the hell did you not answer!?” You rolled your eyes, sighing.

“I forgot because well, I was kind of you know… busy. And then I forgot to charge it and I just woke up.” Robin now raises an eyebrow at you, looking towards the kitchen, and then back at you. You felt like you were sweating all over as you awaited for her answer, begging for Eddie to not make a fucking sound from your room.

“I smell food though… Are you lying to me?” When did Robin become so observant? Fuck–

“Um… yeah I prepared them and went back to bed–” You saw how her eyes fixated on the door, her head cocking to the side and you felt your heart in your throat, pulsating, feeling your vein about to pop. Is she putting the pieces together?

“You left with Eddie last night.” Fuck– You felt your forehead sweating, your fingertips running cold as you started feeling the waffle swirling in your stomach.

“Yeah…?” You tried to sound confused, nonchalant, as much as you could.

“And he brought you home.” Her eyes were back on you, a squint appearing as you admitted defeat by now. You sighed and looked down, nodding at her. It was no use to lie to Robin anymore is there?

“Robs–” And suddenly Robin gasps, and you raise your head to look at her, your mouth opening to talk to her, but a cheeky smile appears on her lips, confusing you. Her voice now whispered as she pointed at your room’s door.

“Is that Jeff?”

Your eyes were wide as you stared at her. What…? How the fuck did she– Your lie. She thinks you actually did sleep with Jeff before, and she thinks… Oh, this is great. This can save your ass and Eddie’s in more ways than one. You pretended to shush her again, your eyes widening in faux worry.

“Lower your voice!” She giggled and rolled her eyes as she bit her bottom lip. She moved her eyebrows up and down, making your stomach turn and turn, not wanting her to ask any questions. 

“So Eddie is being your wingman?” You rolled your eyes and were about to speak– “Do you think he’ll stay for long? I want to stay to cure this hangover and I deserve your waffles for the worry you made me go through!”

You felt a cold sweat as nerves wracked you all over. She crossed her arms in front of her chest as you opened your mouth to protest, denying you from saying no. Fuck. Shit. You looked at your bedroom door and back at her nervously.

“He doesn’t know all of you know, just that Eddie knows!” 

“I’ll just stay in the kitchen! I won’t say hi to him or anything!” She giggled at you and you saw her walking to your kitchen and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. How the fuck are you going to pull this off? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You rushed into your room, seeing Eddie pulling the blanket off of him, his hair all wild despite the bun. You were wincing as you looked around, not really knowing what to do while Eddie got up from the bed, still in his boxers and the shirt you lent him. He whispered to you once more as he looked at the door.

“What the fuck is going on, did Buckley leave?” He asked and you looked at him, shaking your head, biting your bottom lip.

“No… fuck, no, she didn’t and she won’t leave and is going to stay and–” You winced while looking at him, knowing he was going to be mad. “I told her Jeff was in my room…”

His eyes widened as he watched you in complete shock, his hands starting to wave around, not believing you lied with Jeff again instead of saying he was a random person. 

“Peach, what the fuck–”

“Think about it! If you ever say you are ‘taking me home’ and it’s just the two of us in the car, they will always believe you’re taking me to Jeff’s!” He couldn’t believe your lie, but he also couldn’t deny that it does make sense and that it works for the two of you. He didn’t fucking like it, he hated it. He hated that everything he did to you was going to be tarnished by Jeff’s image, and he groaned in distaste but nodded at you nonetheless.

“Fine. Fine. Now tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to get out of here! We know she is going to peek, so how the shit are we doing this!?” He was whisper/yelling and you bit the nail on your index finger, looking around and then at the door. An idea popped in your head, and it was risky, but it was the only solution, or the only viable way of escape for Eddie.

“Okay… okay… I’ll distract her, and you sneak out… I’ll try to make her not face the door.” He was looking at you, a fake smile appearing on his lips as he crossed his arms.

“What a great fucking plan!” He was being sarcastic and you glared at him, slapping his arm. 

“Any other good ideas!?” You saw him sighing and his head falling back, displaying his neck to you. This was not the time for you to stare at his veins, or the bite you left there the day before. You sighed and nodded, trying to look away from him to focus somewhere else. “Okay, I need to get out before she becomes suspicious…”

You saw him look back down and nod, sighing. Oh… shit, how are your greetings going to be? Do you… kiss him? You want to kiss him, but what if he thinks it’s weird? Should you wait for him to do it? What if he doesn’t do it? He was looking at you, his head slightly tilting to the side and your heart banged on your chest as you just looked at him, waiting.

And he realized it. You were expecting him and he wanted nothing more than to do that. He wanted to kiss you again the moment he woke up, hungry for you as the memories came back to him as consciousness was fully reincorporated in his mind again. He was a bit insecure, not knowing if this was a barrier for the two of you, something that is more intimate than just having sex. 

But it was kind of stupid to worry about that now, wasn’t it?

So he took a step towards you, and you felt your breathing cutting off as he got closer. You licked your lips absentmindedly and Eddie wanted to groan at the sight, devour them and Robin can go to hell for all he cares. He wants to throw you on the bed again and make you moan, scream, pant, but now he has to say goodbye to you and he fucking hates it.

His hand was about to reach for your waist when the two of you heard glass breaking and a yell. Your eyes widened as you two pulled back, looking behind you at the door as well as Eddie. He was worried but he couldn’t run out to check on Robin, but the itch was there, needing to make sure his friend was okay. 

“Okay, um– I’ll talk to you later, whatever happened I’ll take care of it and you use that to your advantage to sneak out.” You looked back at him and you two stared into each other's eyes in silence, waiting to see if a move was made, if one would take the leap to greet one another the way you both want to. 

But another yelp made you snap out and your worry made you turn around and motion for him all over your room for him to change. He gave you a quick nod, letting you know he got the message. You took a deep breath in as you quickly got out of the room, closing the door behind you and rushing to the kitchen to see Robin in the sink, her hand under it as water ran down, washing herself off. Her head turned over her shoulder, a sheepish smile on her lips.

“I uh… a glass slipped from my hand…”

“Did you… grab a waffle with your bare hand and use that same hand to grab the glass?” You said this as if this has happened before, and yes it has. Four times, at least those were the amount of times you were present at. Robin often forgot that waffles use butter on the pans so they wouldn’t stick. She whined and looked at you with helplessness. 

“Don’t make fun of me and help me! I picked up a shard and cut my finger…” She pouted at you and you already knew that it was the smallest thing ever, a splinter maybe. You walked towards her, avoiding the glass on the floor. You stood next to her, grabbing her wrist and taking it out from under the water to look at it. Yeah, you couldn’t even see it. 

“It’s just a little splinter Robin–”

“Still hurts!” She sounded like a child, but that’s just who your best friend was. You took this opportunity to sit her on the stool, her back facing the kitchen’s door. You turned on the light and grabbed her wrist again, putting the index finger closer to your eye. You really couldn’t see shit, so you pressed on it, making Robin yelp again. 

“It’s so tiny Robin, I can’t even see it!” She whined, her feet kicking a bit as she pouted at you.

“I can feel it!” You sighed, shaking your head at her.

“Okay, try to look for it yourself, you know where it hurts.” She nodded at you and she put her index finger close to her eye, inspecting it carefully with help of her other hand as you watched her. Out of your peripheral vision you saw a shadow and you looked up to see Eddie tiptoeing with his boots in his hand, now wearing the clothes from the night before. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

If Robin were to feel his presence and turn around, you’re both screwed– Eddie’s eyes widened as he motioned with his free hand the open door of the kitchen with a ‘Are you serious?’ face on and, okay, you were stupid leaving that open. He has all the right to be looking at you like you were a moron. You rolled your eyes and gave a strong tilt towards where your front door is. He looked at your front door and then back at you, making your heart skip a beat.

He made a motion with his free hand, as if he were texting on his phone and you nodded, getting the message. Robin’s head suddenly snapped up towards you and you felt the blood leave your face as she looked at you with a confused frown. Eddie’s eyes widened and froze in his place.

“What are you looking at?” She was about to turn her head and your hand went to grab her index finger and press, making Robin turn again towards you and yell, ripping her finger away from you, “OW! What is wrong with you!?”

“Just… trying to help?” Eddie gave you one more alarmed look and ran off. You were breathing heavily and then, the front door clicked and you finally relaxed, relief flooding your limbs. Robin’s eyebrows met in the middle as she snapped her head around and then back at you with her mouth opened and an offended gaze.

“Did he walk behind me and you distracted me!?”

You smiled innocently and shrugged, trying not to show just how nervous this whole situation made you. 

And you regretted not telling Eddie goodbye the way you wanted to.

It was as if nothing happened between the two of you.

Memes being sent, Eddie bashing on you for not changing your old car, and the only time you two talked about anything regarding what happened, was about Robin. He wanted to know if Robin had asked anything, or if she was suspicious about how ‘Jeff’ ran out like that. 

She was, but she still believed it was Jeff. You only told her that he is very shy, not a person that normally has a booty call, so he doesn’t know how to act about it. That was that. Then Eddie had sent you like forty tiktoks, and you sent back sixty.

That was how it was all week, and you liked it, but you didn’t at the same time. On wednesday you had gotten… needy. Your eyes lingered on your bed more than one time as you contemplated messaging Eddie. You had paced and thought about it, but the more you did, the more you lost confidence on actually pressing send. One of you has to break the ice with it, after all, you did say you would contact eachother if needed.

Yet it didn’t happen.

You wondered if it was going to be not as usual as you thought it was going to be. He did say he wasn’t against your comment on being a recurrent fuck, but now you couldn’t help but doubt it. You didn’t want it to be something that happened once per month, not even once every two weeks. You were hoping at least one fuck with him per week, and hopefully to not become addicted to it the more it happened… Now that you’re thinking about it, maybe it was a good thing to not have a recurrent fuck.

Now friday, you had invited them all for a movie night, and your nerves were there, but it was more of an anticipation, of the hope that he might stay back. Argyle and Eden were not coming, and Jonathan had to work, so it was just you, Robin, Steve, Nance and Eddie. You had worn something comfortable yet, tried to make it catching. A buttoned blouse that was flowing with the first three buttons open, your cleavage showing, and then it was tucked in your pants. 

It was casual but not too obvious for your friends to question your clothing choice. You wondered if he was as nervous, or as expectating as you were about tonight. You hoped he was. You have been yearning it heavily for a few days already, burning from inside out as you tried touching yourself to the memory of him, but nothing could satiate you. Only Eddie Munson could, and his huge fucking di–

Your doorbell rang, making you stop fixing the bowls of snacks on your coffee table. You had prepared some nachos, dips, pringles and wine. Yeah, everything looked fine. You gave a nod of encouragement and walked towards the door, expecting to see Steve, Robin and Nancy, knowing Steve was driving them, but when you opened the door you found a singular person, and it was the one you wanted to see the most.

“Hi Sweetheart.” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and he looked so good, making you already want to clench over nothing, with your imagination running wild, more than a rollercoaster would. You saw his breathing hitch, and you could swear you saw his nostrils flare up slightly, his pupils becoming darker, but maybe it was your stupid brain making things up because– you were so hungry.

“Hi Eds.” You moved out of the way to let him in and he gave a nod and walked in, his eyes never leaving yours and– Oh… you knew. He knew. He wasn’t leaving tonight, wasn’t he? You could feel it. The tension as soon as he walked in, how the air became heavy, how his eyes looked all over you, staying over your open blouse more than they should have.

You felt his cologne invade your nostrils, your lungs, and already your entire apartment smelled like him. You closed the door as you felt your heart about to burst in your chest and probably make you bleed from the inside out. You were already burning in your core and you wanted to curse at him from the effects he was causing on you by just walking through the door. 

You two had been talking like you always did, but as soon as you two saw eachother it was as if you were not that kind of friends at all. Not that you were disliking it, it was just new. You heard how he walked further in your house, and the last time that he was here, he was in your room, barely dressed, and then you two were almost about to go at it again before getting completely interrupted.

You turned to face him, seeing him taking his leather jacket off, revealing a tight white shirt on his body, making your throat close up on you. He never wore white, and you never realized how good it looked on him because it contrasted against all of his tattoos on his arms. His hair was on a low bun, his beard neatly cut, and he was sideways to you, letting you inspect him all, from head to toes, and yet–

“Checking me out already? Let a man breathe.” You blinked as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks, embarrassment running you over as your eyes fixated on him again. He was smirking your way, biting his bottom lip to contain a laugh, his eyes gleaming with something you could not decipher.

“It was weird seeing you with a white shirt on, that’s all Munson.” He raised his eyebrows and looked down on himself, giving you a nod and then looking back up at you.

“Wanted to try something new.” You couldn’t help but believe he did it to catch your attention, and he had succeeded. You cleared your throat as you felt your belly turning, the nerves taking over you as you didn’t really know how to act now. Normally? Flirty? Expectantly?

“Right, um… I’ll go get the cork screw for the wine.” You turned from him and walked inside the kitchen, taking a deep breath and hoping that would calm you down. You had to calm down. He was Eddie, still the same Eddie who you hated for a whole year, and the one you became friends and also the one you fucked– You bit your bottom lip as you walked towards your drawers, opening the third one, looking for the cork screw.

You frowned when you couldn’t find it, rummaging through it. You closed it and went to open the second one. You cursed when you couldn’t see it at first glance, and you were sure you put it in the drawers. You closed that drawer and opened the very first one, finally spotting it. You hummed in approval and reached to move the utensils out of the way in order to grab it, and then you froze when you felt a presence behind you.

“Running away from me so early in the night, Peach?” You gulped as you felt hands glide over your hips, fingers pressing against them, making your breath stop for a second. 

“I wasn’t– I just forgot to put this on the table–” You were breathless in each word you spoke and he couldn’t help but grin in victory at that. He was making you feel nervous, yet not uncomfortable. He knows it, but he will not do anything you do not want to do, not wanting to trust his senses only.

“Mhm… Do you want me to back off?” Your face warmed at how considerate he was, despite you two already having stated you wanted eachother to keep doing this. He was being respectful to you, first and foremost. You could feel your inner thighs burn, your core tense at the need, and you let your body speak for you, your ass gently brushing against his front. You heard him choke on his breath, a small smirk appearing on your lips.

“No. Not really…” His hands gripped your hips and made you flush against him, pressing you harder, and you wanted to moan at the closeness, and at the rising bulge that was on the curve of your ass. 

“Playing with fire darling.” His fingers moved, slowly and tentatively to your front. You closed your eyes as you took a deep breath in, taking in his touches as your hands remained still inside your drawer, the cork screw forgotten.

“As if you didn't like it, Munson.” You heard him chuckle, closer than before, his breath hitting your right ear. A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes opening as goosebumps covered your arms, your belly in flames as you finally clenched around nothing. 

“I never said I didn’t, did I?” His voice was low, rough, and with a hint of smugness that you have started to like. It was seductive, and it was making you almost tremble with need, wanting that voice to be moaning your name already. He was growing harder the more he held your hips, slowly moving to your thighs, and he wanted to dig his fingertips in and press you even harder against him, slide his hands between your thighs and make a mess out of you in the lapse of minutes.

He licked his lips as he looked over your neck, your earlobe, your jaw and he wanted to mark it more than anything else. Maybe he can have a taste, can’t he? He can smell your perfume, driving his mind insane, his bulge twitch even more than before, and this is going to be a problem, because he can’t help his mouth coming closer to your neck, and he knows he is going to grow even harder the moment he tastes you again.

You were holding your breath as you felt the hot air hitting your skin, your head tilting to the other side, unconsciously so, but yet it was a green light for him to do whatever he wanted. You are out of your mind, because your friends are about to arrive, and Eddie’s lips are already brushing against your pulse point and–

RING.

He groaned, or growled, loudly, his forehead falling to your shoulder in defeat as you whined in protest. Interrupted by the same thing once again. You should have just messaged Eddie for tonight. You shouldn’t have done this whole charade in order to see him again, and now you regretted telling your friends anything at all. You were being mean but… but fuck, you were so close to him and now you can’t help but feel even more desperate than before.

“Fuck…” He cursed with a sigh and you weren’t going to miss this chance. You weren’t going to let him leave tonight.

“We can continue this later…?” You asked and his head perked up from your shoulder, and you turned your head to look at him, your noses touching as your breaths mixed together in between the two of you. Your eyes were going up and down, his eyes, his lips, his eyes, his lips. You saw him slowly nod as his eyes were transfixed on your own lips, his mouth slightly open and you felt excitement bubble up inside of you, letting out a shaky breath out. 

He was leaning in, and he was so close, his plush lips brushing against yours only for the doorbell to ring again and for him to growl loudly, pulling away from you, his touch completely leaving you.

“I need to go to the bathroom because–” You blinked at his words and he pointed to his pants and your eyes followed his signal and–

“Oh.” You snorted and he glared at you at how cocky you were, knowing you had done this to him. He had a very noticeable bulge, not tented, but you couldn’t miss it.

“Yeah, you’re gonna pay for doing this when you knew people were coming over.” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the corkscrew and closed the drawer, walking out of the kitchen with him following right behind you. 

“Sure, whatever you say.” He gave you a warning look before heading to your bathroom. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and put a hand on your chest. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You were putty in his hands and you didn’t notice how he made your knees tremble. Was he always this hot and you didn’t notice it? Did you dislike him so much you couldn’t see past it?

You couldn’t help but feel like you were missing out for a long time.

Knocks on the door interrupted your thought process, gasping as you remembered your friends, rushing to open the door for them. Steve, Nancy and Robin stood before you, Steve with a bottle of wine in his hand and a roll of his eyes.

“What took you so long?” He walked past you, followed by the two girls who were holding hands. 

“She was probably talking with Jeff.” Robin snickers, making you flush as you close the door, holding up the corkscrew to them.

“No, I was looking for this and Robin, can you stop making a big deal out of sex?” She rolled her eyes at you, taking the corkscrew out of your hands and moving to sit on the couch, grabbing your bottle of wine first to start opening it.

“Oh please, same hook up in the lapse of a week? Sounds serious to me.” You sighed and scoffed at that, though she was right. Your hookups were never the same. It was a person one week, another the next, never the same one two times in a row. Last time that happened, you started a relationship. 

Panic set in at that. No, that’s not happening. Not with Eddie, right? You don’t like him like that. Well, you didn’t like Billy like that either and you dated him later on because feelings developed without your will and– Fuck. No, you are thinking too much about this. You have to stop before your mind explodes and makes everything awkward. 

You heard the door of the bathroom open and everyone looked to see Eddie walking out, wiping his hands away, stopping in his tracks when he felt the eyes on him, a confused look on his face. 

“What?” The rest shrugged, paying it no mind and you had to hold in the sigh of relief of people simply not caring if he got here early. Good. You looked at Eddie with a side glance and he reciprocated it with a small nod, walking towards the couch to sit down next to Robin. “You need help Buckley?”

You saw how he helped Robin unscrew the bottle open, putting the bottle in between his thighs to pull the cork off, his bicep tightening as his face contorted with the strength he was putting in. You felt your center clench out of nowhere, heat radiating from your fingertips and you had to do something to take your mind away from him. You can’t believe you are getting hot and bothered by him opening a wine bottle. 

“So, what are we watching?” Steve asked as he sat down on the arm chair, moving his upper body to take a chip and dip it in the homemade guacamole you made. You saw how Nancy plopped on the floor, next to Robin’s legs, reaching over to grab a chip herself and just eat it like that. 

The remaining seat was on the edge, right next to Eddie. 

He was in the middle of the couch, giving the bottle back to Robin as you walked over to sit next to him, trying to calm your nerves now, feeling a little guilty. You are here with all your friends, fucking one of them, but the rest not knowing about it and will never know. You felt bad for Robin the most, but you honestly did not want to make a big deal about this, knowing it was just a physical relationship. You knew that they would either not like it and try to pry the two of you apart or… the opposite and you were not sure that could ever happen with Eddie.

“I want to watch Terrifier 3. It’s already in the streaming app.” Nancy mentions with her mouth full of chips as she caresses Robin’s calf. The strawberry haired girl was chugging the wine from her glass, probably out of nerves. After all this time, Robin still got nervous around her girlfriend. It was endearing.

“A scary movie?” You ask, already feeling a bit fidgety at the prospect of it, not being good with horror movies. Eddie was serving himself a glass of wine, a smirk on his lips as he looked at the pour.

“Don’t worry Peach, I’ll protect you from the evil clown.” You glared at him as Steve chuckled, shaking his head. For some reason, you started remembering the last time you two had talked about a scary movie together was… when you had hurt him calling him a freak. A weird person. When they went to see Evil Dead without you. He had accused you of being a scaredy cat, and you had gotten defensive about it and now…

“I’ll sacrifice you to save myself.” You joke, knowing damn well you would never do that. He chuckles, looking at you with a look only the two of you understand. An endearing one, caring, yet filled with fire behind the irises.

“You hurt me, baby.” Your eyes slightly widened at the pet name, hoping no one would think weird of it, also looking at him in warning to be careful with his words in front of your friends.

“Don’t fight you two.” Nancy giggles mockingly, and you see Eddie turning his head to laugh with her, and you just sit there perplexed at how no one suspects a thing. It means you two were never put together, in any way, by no one in the group.

“She’s the one who said was sacrificing me to a murderous clown to save herself!” He exclaims and that makes you roll your eyes, grabbing a chip and dipping it into the sour cream.

“I never said you were dying, Munson.” The chip went into your mouth as he looked back at you, and a drop of cream was on the corner of your lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, your tongue coming out to lick it, making sure you were taking everything into your mouth. You heard a low grumble on your left, and you turned your head to see Eddie glaring at you, his jaw tense, and you were confused, looking around to see if something happened.

“Don’t play fucking dumb.” He whispered as the other three talked and browsed to get the movie on your TV. You blinked, confused at his words, but then– You looked at your thumb and then you couldn’t help but snort, catching Steve’s attention.

“What’s funny?” You cleared your throat and shook your head.

“Nothing, just something I remembered.” Eddie was still glaring at you, his insides burning as he tried to take his mind somewhere else, and try to avoid thinking about your tongue around his dick. He turned to the TV screen, crossing his arms as he huffed. You were riling him up without you knowing, a fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach knowing he was looking at you no matter what.

Your heart dropped though once you saw the intro for the horror movie coming up and you looked to your side to grab onto your blanket. It doesn’t matter if it was hot or not, but the blanket brought you comfort, and it made you feel a little bit safer. Everytime you watched horror or sad movies, you put a blanket on you, and this time was no different, placing it on top of your legs.

Nancy shot up from the floor to rush and turn off the lights, a soft chattering happening between the group as the movie started playing and she returned to sit on Robin’s lap as she cuddled up to her. You wished you could do that right now, wanting to feel secure against someone again as you watched these things, just like when you were with– Before dark clouds possessed you, you grabbed some chips and pooled them on your palm so you could eat them as the movie played.

You felt your heart beating faster than usual, afraid a jumpscare would happen sooner or later, and you definitely did not like the creepy smile this clown had. You were squinting, trying to avoid seeing most of the scenes, and then you felt your blanket moving, making you jump and look at Eddie.

“Just wanted some of this.” He moved the blanket so he could now place part of it over his own lap, sharing it with you. For some reason you felt like this was his way of making you feel safer, knowing you weren’t good with this kind of film. He could sense how uncomfortable you were, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. His mind went to the same memory you had of a year ago, and he now could see you just didn’t want to be left out, despite you having these kinds of reactions to movies like these.

But he couldn’t wrap his arm around you. Even if everyone accepted your relationship as friends, he didn’t know just how weird it would look to them if he did something like that. He flinched when you yourself jumped at a very small jumpscare, and Steve turned his head to look at you, remote in his hand.

“Hey, do you want to watch something else?” Your heart warmed at how he cared but you still shook your head at that, a nervous smile spreading on your lips.

“It’s just a movie, don’t worry.” He gave a nod and put the remote back down, moving his body to lay on the armchair sideways, head on an arm rest while his legs and feet dangled over the other. You could feel Eddie’s gaze on you and you turned to look at him as well. He gave a raise of eyebrows at you, a silent question if you were okay. You gave him a nod and sighed softly, your eyes returning to the screen in front of you.

The minutes went by and you noticed the movie had… gore. Too much gore in it. It wasn’t even the jumpscares that got you anymore, it was the anxious feeling of what he might do to the protagonists. Steve, Robin and Nancy were softly talking about the effects of the movie, while you were just trying to look away from the screen as much as you could because, fuck that. You didn’t care this was strawberry syrup or whatever the fuck the other three were saying, you didn’t like it.

Suddenly, you felt something creeping over your thigh and under the blanket. You flinched, thinking it was a bug, only to feel a strong grip of fingers digging into you. Your breathing stopped as you gave Eddie a quick warning glance and the bastard was eating a chip with his other hand, his eyes still trained to the screen. Your heart was beating in your throat as you felt nervousness invade you, afraid the others would notice it at all, but as you gave a subtle glance their way, their eyes were trained to the screen, still immersed in the conversation.

You weren’t even listening to them, the movie now just a background picture and noise as you stared forward, and his fingers rubbed your thigh in soft and slow circles. You felt shivers run down your entire body, electricity coursing through your veins and arteries as you tried to control your breathing, feeling it start to become quicker.

What was he doing? Why? You two were in front of everyone, and he is just touching you like this and hope they never look your way? Okay, it was nothing bad, he was just rubbing your thigh, that was all. He was just trying to distract you from the screen that was showing off great amounts of blood and guts, but you didn’t even try to comprehend why or how that happened. Maybe that was his intention, and that made you slowly relax. You have to remember Eddie is your friend, first and foremost, so it’s probably him being that friend for you right now.

But as soon as you were beginning to relax, you felt those fingers move slowly, creeping towards the inner part of your thighs. You held a breath in, the situation becoming even more dangerous than before because– You’re getting worked up. The idea of your friends being here, not knowing what had transpired between the two of you, and now sneaking touches between eachother without them finding out was… exciting.

Your legs were parted, just very little, but it was enough for him to get his fingers in between, and press against your inner thigh, making you choke a bit on your breath, but playing it off as a cough. You heard him chuckle under his breath and your head snapped to glare at him and he was already side-eying you, a cheeky smile on his lips. 

You clenched your thighs together, trapping his fingers in. You were feeling like you had to compete against him, to make him be as worked up as you were right now. He tried wiggling his fingers between your thighs but you kept him locked in there. He wasn’t complaining about it, feeling the warmth of your legs around his fingers, and he could pretend that was the same temperature as the warmth he could feel inside of you. 

But he wasn’t prepared when you moved your own hand this time, and without wasting a minute, you placed it between his parted legs, your fingers digging into his inner thigh, cutting his breath short. He was trying to keep his eyes on the screen, glancing towards his other friends just in case they moved or looked your way and his, but as soon as he looked away from you, he felt your entire palm rub against him, over his pants. He twitched, and your hand rapidly backed away as your thighs let his hand go as well and he put it back on his side.

Nancy looked over Robin’s head to talk to Eddie, “You scared Eddie?” She giggled and you snorted again, taking a chip into your mouth as Eddie felt himself burning inside out, his words coming out from gritted teeth.

“No, just had a twitch.” Oh you were going to get it after this. His fingers tingle with the need to touch you again, to keep his hand over your warm body, to pull you close and kiss you senseless to the point you couldn’t breathe anymore. He wanted to render you stupid, speechless, babbling nonsense to him and he wouldn’t be able to help himself and smile at you. 

He’s going to make sure to see that after everyone is gone.

The rest of the movie was spent in silence, and no more hand touches. You rubbed your thigh against his every now and then, to keep you distracted from the movie, or to rile him up, you didn’t know, maybe both. You were growing impatient with each minute that passed from the movie, needing to be alone with him once and for all, so when the credits started rolling up, you were so glad to the point you could sigh of relief.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Robin says as she finishes her glass of wine and Nancy gets off her lap to stand up and stretch. You clear your throat and take the blanket off your lap and Eddie’s, throwing it next to the couch and into the basket.

“I don’t know, but I ain’t watching something like that again.” You comment, leaning back on your couch as if exhausted from having to endure that film, but in all honesty, you were sighing of finally getting what you want after two excruciating hours. 

“Hey, Eds?” Steve calls out to him, and Eddie didn’t realize he was looking at the expanse of your neck, and his head snapped to look at his best friend, trying to play it off as if he had zoned out.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you take Nance and Robs back home? I need to go help Jon at the bar because one of the waiters had to leave early and he needs help closing.” 

And you felt your whole body freeze over as well as Eddie’s. Your fucking plans were ruined. He was going to leave, or maybe he could return? Or maybe he didn’t want to drive twenty minutes to leave the girls and then twenty minutes back. This was not fair.

Eddie wasn’t far behind at your thoughts, but he was being more explicit. He was cursing at everything and everyone, wanting to make up an excuse in order to stay but he knows there’s no way out of this, Nancy and Robin smiling innocently at him, batting their eyelashes so he wouldn’t be mad at them. He sighed, giving a slow nod and your body slumped in defeat. 

“Yeah, sure. You girls want to go already?” He asks, and you feel your stomach turn with disappointment, knowing you are going to be met with your pink vibrating friend in your bed instead of the actual thing you want. 

“Please? I want to go straight to bed.” Robin says as she gets up, a little wobbly thanks to the wine, and you follow right behind her, stacking the empty small bowls of snacks on the coffee table as they get ready to head out again. You turn your head over your shoulder to see Eddie looking at you with a frown in his eyebrows, and you give him a small shrug as if telling him ‘it can’t be helped’.

You wished it could be. You wished he could stay tonight, but you guess you can wait tomorrow? Or maybe he will be busy tomorrow too? You can definitely message him and ask, you just have to wait a whole 24 hours to actually know that answer. You didn’t want to wait that long. You should have fucking told him to come an hour early than all the others so you could at least have a quickie in your kitchen counter.

You wanted to groan when you felt a bit of heat in your underwear, your wetness becoming present as your imagination ran wild. You didn’t notice the man that was next to you, staring at you as if he was going to murder you, or eat you, or simply destroy you. His chest was moving a little quicker than before, signaling the sudden increase of pace of his breathing.

“Let’s go, I want to fucking sleep until next year.” You heard Nancy say and you looked towards Eddie, a frown in his face as he stared at you already. You fought off the disappointment and gave him a small shrug. It can’t be helped. It will have to be postponed to another day. You will have to hold your hunger for one more day, or a few more, and maybe you shouldn’t have to if you had messaged him two days ago.

He gave an exasperated sigh, and he held back the angry groan he wanted to let out. You walked towards the front door, opening it as Steve gave you a nod in thanks for hosting tonight as he walked out, followed by Robin, Nancy and lastly Eddie. You two held the gaze as he stepped by you, and time went slower as you felt your ears ringing, a ring that was yelling at you to somehow make him stay, but– it was too obvious if you did.

He sent a small smile your way and then time began its normal pace once again. You didn’t know you were holding a breath until you actually let it out. You popped your head out as you saw them all heading towards the elevator, waving at them one last time. Eddie raised his hand in a quick moment in response and Robin blew a kiss your way. You gave a small smile in return before hearing the elevator ding and you closed the door, a defeated sigh leaving your lips.

You felt wrong for thinking only about getting railed when most of your friends were here to have fun, to watch a movie with you, to spend time with you, and the only thing you could think of was the one person that was sitting next to you throughout the whole film. You turned towards the coffee table, walking towards it to continue cleaning only to see a pair of keys sitting next to Eddie’s glass. Your eyes widened when you saw they were his car keys, grabbing them quickly, and cursing under your breath.

“This fucking idiot!” You put your phone in the back pocket of your pants and you rushed towards your front door, opening it so you could run out to try to catch them, but you stopped on your tracks when you saw Eddie standing in front of your home. Your eyes widened as your heart stopped for a second, watching him breathing heavily. “You– You forgot–”

You couldn’t finish the sentence. His right hand grabbed onto the back of your neck while the left one held your waist, pulling you inside your apartment again and quickly turning you and slamming you against the wall next to your door, his lips clashing onto yours in a hurried manner, rough, needy and desperate.

You didn’t waste a fucking second, dropping his keys to the floor and your hands immediately clung to the back of his neck to press him more into you as you both moved your lips against eachother as if you had never tasted one another, or as if you were relapsing into a drug you were once addicted to. His tongue slipped past your lips in an instant, clashing with yours and you let him ravish you just how you wanted him to do for a week now. The hand on your waist was gripping you tightly, his hips pressing against your own and you let a groan enter his mouth which he responded with a low moan.

His hand moved from your waist towards your back in order to cup your ass, and you instinctively moved your right leg over his hip, letting him press himself right against your core. You moaned into the kiss, and he could only groan as the smacking of lips filled the room entirely. His hand went from your ass to holding your thigh against him, his pants growing tighter at each roll of the hips he does into you. The seam of your pants making the friction on your clit be simply murderous. 

His tongue danced with yours, devouring every inch and space that there could possibly be. You felt your body burning, your fingertips felt like they had embers, just sending shockwaves all over your spine. Your belly was filled with adrenaline and excitement, but it was cut short when rationality struck you for a second, making you reluctantly pull away, leaving you both breathless as he held your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze before you spoke again.

“You left your keys–”

“Yeah, I know. I did it on purpose. It was my excuse to come back here.” He gave you a soft peck on the lips before continuing. “I made them head down while I picked the keys up again.” 

You felt your heart bursting, biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, your hands still clinging to the back of his head as if your life depended on it. You didn’t want to let him go, but, by what he was saying, it seems this had to be cut short. He slowly put your leg back down, not before giving it a squeeze and then let it rest on your hip. His other hand went from the back of your neck to put his curled index finger under your chin to keep your eyes on him.

“So… you have to go?” Your eyes went to his lips and back up and back to his lips again. His breath was mixing with yours as you two remained with slightly open mouths, soft pants leaving you. He gave you a nod, a serious look in his eyes as he replied.

“I’ll take them home and come back here… do you want that?” Your thighs clenched together, your core pulsating with the prospect of him returning to you. You desperately nodded at him, pulling him down for another kiss, not understanding how you were so reluctant to not be with him just a week ago before you exploded, and now you are declaring Eddie Munson as your new favorite drug, your favorite beverage, a perfect addiction. You pulled away, but not before giving a soft bite and tug on his bottom lip, making him growl in need at you.

“Yeah… I’ll wait for you.” His hands quickly cradled your face, giving you one strong last kiss. Well, that is until he returns from dropping Robin and Nancy. He pulled away from you, giving a nod as he let go of your face and your hands dropped from holding him.

“I’ll do record time–” He bent down to pick his keys on the floor and raised himself back up, fixing himself in his pants and you salivated as you saw the prominent bulge that developed on him. “So be ready for when I come back, Peach. Don’t think I forgot how much you teased me today.” 

With that, he walked right back out of your apartment and you heard the boots walking away in your hallway and you just stood there, breathing heavily as his words processed in your brain. He would come back here and your body shook with the anticipation of what he might do to you after that small threat he gave you. You heard the elevator ding and you know he is finally going down again, your feet finally working to close the door of your apartment. 

You stared at the door and all the guilt and shame you felt before was out of the window. The only things that remained were adrenaline and excitement, your body moving, rushing towards your room to make sure everything was tidy just as you had prepared. The black lace underneath your clothes waiting to surprise him as soon as he takes the garments off. Or maybe… you can wait for him in just that. You bit your bottom lip as you started taking your blouse off, followed by your sneakers and then your pants, looking at the full body mirror in your room.

You wanted to be filthy. You wanted to be rough. For some reason, you wanted to make him remember you. Make him remember the woman that waited for him in just her lace, ready for him. The woman who could, in his words, take him all. You still don’t know why he always repeats it, but he does, and if he was being honest or not, or if they were meaningless words or not, you didn’t know, but you’ll take the compliment. You wanted him to remember you because you wanted to engrave himself in his mind. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was dignity, maybe it was you trying to show off thanks to how snarky he had been with you for a whole year.

Whatever the reason was. 

You wanted to ruin Eddie Munson.

end of chapter 19

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[jjkamochoso]

Rotten Right to the Core

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!reader

Inspired by Charlie XCX’s song “Apple”; Sanemi worries about the traits he’s inherited from his parents…

Warnings: cussing, yelling, mentions of abuse, mentions of blood

[I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree/'Cause I've been looking at you so long/Now I only see me/I wanna throw the apple into the sky/Feels like you never understand me/So I just wanna drive/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport]

Each year as Sanemi grew older, he became more nervous to look at his reflection, afraid of what he might see. Would he retain the soft features of his mother? Or would his father’s presence haunt him as he stared into the eyes that reminded him of everything bad in this world? He hated feeling this way. Sometimes he would get so angry that he would break the mirror, desperate to erase the possibility of seeing the ghost of his father ever present on his face. After his rampage would finish, you were always there to dutifully clean up the mess, both physically and mentally. He was your lover, after all; taking care of each other was part of your promises to one another.

Today was one of those days where Sanemi grappled with his self worth.

Thankfully you were home, not having been sent on a demon slaying mission yet. As soon as you heard the crashing of broken glass, you prepared yourself for what was to come. Sanemi was a good husband—a great one, actually—and you knew that he had a violent upbringing. That’s why you never got upset at these outbursts; you couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to see the face of the man who brought your family so much pain look back at you every day of your life. You grabbed a dustpan and a broom on your way to the upset Wind Pillar.

“I’m coming in,” you said quietly, knocking on the door and opening it. You were met with Sanemi gripping the edge of the counter, his knuckles white with fury underneath the layers of blood dripping from his cut skin. The glass on the floor could wait—he needed to be bandaged. You opened the medical kit and dug through for tweezers and gauze. Sanemi stayed silent, still seething. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, ashamed at making such a mess. You didn’t care, though, you never did.

“I’m going to clean you up first and then I’ll get the glass, okay?” you told him, gesturing him to take a seat away from the damage he dealt. You sanitized the wounds on his knuckles before getting to work on extracting the small pieces of glass from the cuts. He barely flinched as you did this, making you frown. He must’ve been extra upset this time. When you started the bandaging process, he finally spoke up.

“I look like him. I hate it.” His voice trembled with fury. “I can’t stand knowing I’ll never be able to escape him.”

You listened intently in case he wanted to say something else, but he went quiet again. You were all done wrapping him up and placed a loving kiss on the freshly bandaged hand.

“You’re not him,” you whispered. “You’ve never raised a hand to me. You’ve never hurt me.”

Sanemi let out a humorless laugh, pulling his hand from your grasp. “Is that the standard for good husbands nowadays? What a joke.”

He abruptly stood, leaving the room. You sighed, knowing it was going to be a long day. You wished you had all the right things to say to him, anything to convince him that he’s not a carbon copy of his deadbeat dad, but you were at a loss. The only thing you could do was let him get his anger out elsewhere and he’d come to you when he was ready. You got down on your hands and knees and began to clean up the glass, careful not to cut yourself. You heard heavy footsteps re-enter the room.

“What are you doing?” Sanemi barked out.

“I’m cleaning up.”

“Would you stop? I can do it myself.”

You frowned again. “I know, I’m just trying to help.”

“Just stop, okay? I don’t need your pity!”

You ignored him and went back to your task at hand. That sent Sanemi over the edge.

“Seriously, get the fuck up. I said I’ll do it!”

You weren’t phased by his raised voice. “And I said I’m helping.”

Sanemi just stared at you, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. All of a sudden he stopped, his bloodshot eyes widening at the memory that entered his mind.

His father’s cup sloshed around with his alcohol of choice for the night. In one drunken movement, he spilled the contents onto the floor.

His mother lowered her eyes. “I’ll clean that right away.”

She took hold of the nearest rag and got down on her hands and knees, but his father didn’t care for her kindness, grabbing her roughly by the arm and hoisting her up before throwing her to the side.

“Get up! Do you think I’m some sort of useless child?” he screamed. “I can use a rag you idiot. I don’t need your help!”

“Sanemi? Are you-”

“You’re just like her,” he choked out. “You’re just like her and I’m just like him.”

You didn’t know what memory spurred that reaction but you figured it was a bad one. You reached out to comfort him but he was gone in an instant. You heard the front door slam shut and you knew he would be gone until evening. He couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity as you during times like these when you reminded him of his mother as he was acting like his father. He couldn’t stand knowing he could never truly rid himself of the tendencies that were passed down from the man he was unfortunate enough to be born to.

[I guess the apple could turn yellow or green/I know there's lots of different nuances/To you and to me/I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds/But I can't help but get so angry/You don't listen to me/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night]

Sanemi hurried out the door, desperately needing air and wanting to put as much space as he could between himself and you. He couldn’t believe he let himself get so angry, especially at you. The recollection of his father yelling at his mother the same way he had just done to you was a grim realization for Sanemi that he was following in his father’s footsteps. He picked up his sword and began hacking away, channeling his frustrations into obliterating the training dummy. The more he thought about his previous actions, the more he raged, howling winds swirling around him in an outward reflection of the storm inside himself. He had completely lost himself in his fury, only halting when the dummy was chopped into tiny pieces. The scene in front of him was reminiscent of the one he left inside; yet again, Sanemi proved he only knew violence. He threw his sword away from him, disgusted with his actions, before falling to his knees and shoving his face in his hands. Why couldn’t he have been more like his mother? Calm, caring, loving. She was the light in the perpetual darkness of his father. Weren’t his hands, though calloused and stained with blood (literally and figuratively), capable of handling things with grace and a nurturing touch? Why, instead, was he destined to destroy everything? Or—even worse—was this not destiny in play, but his own choices leading him to blaze through life and hurt everyone close to him? He knew he had the ability to choose love and show the softer side of his personality, he had done it plenty of times in the past. You, his loving wife, had made it easier for Sanemi to follow a more peaceful path, encouraged him to embrace his kinder side, yet he still found himself vexed over little things too often for his liking. It was like vengeance and anger were innate needs, something he couldn’t give up no matter how hard he tried. You deserved better than him; he had made that clear from the very start of your relationship. You didn’t believe him for one second, knowing he had goodness in his heart as he had shown glimpses of his affectionate nature many times. The protective walls he had constructed inside himself were there for a reason but you often broke through them, Sanemi never understanding why you would commit yourself to such a grueling task with no reward at the end (you would disagree as being loved by him was the greatest reward you could ever want). Countless nights were spent by him wondering why you continued to be married to someone like him. He saw no positives for you in your union and when he expressed that, those were the only times it was you who was angry rather than him.

[I think the apple's rotten right to the core/From all the things passed down/From all the apples coming before/I split the apple down symmetrical lines/And what I find is kinda scary/Makes me just wanna drive

I wanna know where you go/When you're feeling alone/When you're feeling alone, do you…]

Sanemi had stayed crumpled on the ground until the sun threatened to dip below the horizon, signaling that nightfall was arriving soon. He gingerly walked inside the house, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that came with his absence. It was dark in every room, save for the few candles you left burning in the kitchen to signal the plate of dinner you had left out for him. Sanemi’s stomach was in knots; he had left you all alone yet you still cooked his favorite food for him.

Some husband I am.

He savored the bites of ohagi as he sat in silence, wondering where you were. Had you finally had enough of him and left? No, you wouldn’t do that without telling him first. You were many things but you certainly weren’t heartless. Worry started settling into him as the sun wasted away. You shouldn’t be out after dark. Sure, you were a demon slayer, but he’d seen the most talented members of the corps slain when they were caught off guard. He gulped down the last of his food and took off in a hurry; to where, he didn’t know. He had no idea where you went when he would storm out. Cussing under his breath, he checked all the rooms of the mansion again.

“Y/n?” he called out. Nothing. Now he was starting to panic. He yanked one of the extra swords from the cabinet in your shared bedroom and tore through the door to the outside. He investigated the surrounding area, yelling your name but getting no response. His mind was scrambled, his breath scattered.

Where could she be?

As soon as that thought hit his brain, he knew exactly where you were.

He found you in the garden.

You were sitting on a stepping stone, your gaze settling on the flowers surrounding you.

“You shouldn’t be out in the dark. It’s not safe.”

Sanemi’s voice, having lost its harshness, made you smile. He was always worried for others and took on such a protective role; how he couldn’t see the positive impact he had, you didn’t know.

“I have my sword,” you replied, not facing him. “And I have you.”

Sanemi’s face burned at his wife’s saccharine tone. He took up a spot next to you, your shoulders brushing together. He wanted to apologize for his behavior today but he didn’t know how to start.

He was his father’s son: brash, unrelenting, unstoppable.

He was his father’s son: he was a coward.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He furrowed his brow. “Why the hell are you apologizing? I’m the jerk here.” He took a deep breath, looking off into the distance as he tried to articulate his feelings. “I’m… I’m sorry. For everything. Today and in the past. It sickens me knowing the woman I love has to see the man that I hate.”

You reached out to hold his hand and this time he allowed you to, grasping you with a featherlight touch.

“I’m no good,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why you stay.”

He awaited your usual heated response, but it didn’t come.

“Sanemi, look at me.”

You spoke with such authority that he didn’t dare defy you. His white hair resembled the color of the moon, both shiny brightly in the dark of night.

“I love you. All of you. You are not the monster you think yourself to be, not even close. Yes, you have a temper. Yes, you can get incensed on a whim. Those are not the world ending traits you think them to be. You are a good man, Sanemi. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Maybe then you could understand my love for you.”

Sanemi felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. You always comforted him in ways he never knew possible, but something about tonight was making your sentiments affect him more than usual.

“From what I know, your father would’ve never owned up to his mistakes,” you continued, using your free hand to rub circles on his back. “You’re already a million times better of a man than he ever was.”

“Do you remember when we found those beetles you love so much?” you asked, earning a confused look from Sanemi as he nodded. “You raised the babies into healthy adults. That takes patience and compassion, both of which you have an abundance of in here.” You poked his exposed chest. “How about the time I was so sick I couldn’t stand? You took care of me all day and night, barely getting a wink of sleep yourself because you were so concerned.”

Sanemi did remember all of that.

“I was so scared you were gonna die,” he mumbled. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Those situations are what prove how great of a husband, of a person, you truly are.” You squeezed his hand. “Look inside yourself, my love. You’ll see that there’s traits you inherited from both parents. It’s up to you to decide who you’d rather embody, nothing is set in stone or chosen for you. I think you’ll find you take after your mother more than you think.”

Sanemi got up, brushing off his pants before offering you his hands to grab as he hoisted you up, pulling you into a warm hug. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking steadying breaths.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he held you, “for being by my side. For loving me. For believing in me.”

As he stood there with you, cradling your body with his own, he was reminded of a substantially better memory than the one from that morning.

“Goodnight mommy!” Sanemi had said, his little feet sprinting as he threw himself into his mother’s open arms. She was sporting her large, beautiful grin that he missed seeing so often.

“Goodnight, my child,” she responded, burrowing her nose into his messy hair before placing a gentle kiss there.

He smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

[xmattschainx]

Push and Pull

the one where you get in a fight with matt and say you hate him so he also wants to show you how much he "hates" you but only in the mirror (12.3K words)

Contains: smut, unprotected piv, fingering, self voyeurism, overstim, soft!dom! boyfriend matt x sub!fem reader

The room felt like a pressure cooker, the walls squeezing in tighter and tighter as I struggled to breathe. Every creak of the old floorboards seemed to echo in the tense, suffocating silence between Matt and I. The air was thick with everything left unsaid over days, weeks, maybe even months. Every muscle in my body was wound tight, frustration coiling up inside me like a snake ready to strike. I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at me—or not looking at me, really. Matt’s face was blank, his lips pressed into a stubborn line, his silence like a brick wall I kept slamming into. My hands were clenched at my sides before I gave in to the rush of frustration and shoved him.

And I shoved him hard, surprising myself with the amount of force that exuded from me. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing anymore. My hands were shaking, but I pushed him, needing to see some kind of reaction, needing to make him feel something. “You don’t get it, do you?” I shouted, my voice breaking around the edges and slicing through the stillness of the room. The hurt that had been simmering there for so long clawed its way up, twisting my words into ugly, desperate things. I pushed him again, harder this time, as if I could physically shake the understanding into him. “You never listen. You never even try to, Matt.”

Matt stood there with his jaw clenched, unyielding, his cold blue eyes locked onto mine. He took a small step back to steady himself, his body coiled tight, ready to break. He didn’t speak, not yet, even though I could see his composure fraying. His silence, his infuriating, maddening silence, made my chest tighten with even more anger.

I shoved him again, desperate for any kind of reaction out of him. His body barely shifted, but I felt the tension in him, like he was barely keeping himself together. The way his jaw stiffened, the way his fists curled at his sides, it was evident something dark was brewing inside of him, simmering beneath that infuriating silence.

“You think it’s okay to just shut down like this? To stand there and act like I’m the crazy one?” I screamed, my voice cracking despite my attempts to keep it steady. I felt like I was suffocating. Every time I spoke, it felt like I was throwing my voice into an empty void. His silence was a knife, cutting deeper than any words he could have said.

Matt didn’t move, didn’t say a damn thing, and something inside me snapped. I shoved him one more time, my palms pressing against the hardness of his chest. I hated how solid he felt, how immovable. “Say something, damn it!”

His nostrils flared, and for a split second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite name. His silence wasn’t calm; I knew that. I could feel the storm he was holding back, the one that mirrored my own. But he kept swallowing his words, which kept pushing me to the edge of my own sanity.

My breath came out ragged, and I hated the way my voice trembled. The frustration clawed at me, tearing me apart. I felt like I was burning alive, and his stillness, his stubborn refusal to fight back, felt like gasoline on the flames. I stepped forward again, my voice breaking. “Do you even care?” I demanded, feeling tears sting the corners of my eyes, hot and furious.  “Do you ever care, Matt, or am I just… am I just screaming into the void?”

Matt’s eyes flickered, and I saw something crack, his composure visibly crumbling. As his hands, clenched into fists at his sides, he finally spoke. His voice coming out low and rough, every syllable trembling with barely controlled anger. “You think I don’t care?”

My heart lurched at the sound of his voice, at the force of it, but I didn’t let myself falter. My heart was pounding erratically. I wanted to throw his words back at him, wanted to scream that it felt like he didn’t. But the raw anger in his voice made me freeze, just for a second, before I forced myself to stand my ground. “Yeah, maybe I do! Because all you do is—” my words cut off, caught in my throat as Matt finally, finally, moved. He stepped forward, closing the distance I had been trying so desperately to maintain.

“I’m not saying anything because if I do, it’s going to make this worse. Is that what you want?” His voice was still low, but the sharp edge was there, like a crack in the surface of something dangerous. His eyes searched mine, and for the first time, I saw how close he was to breaking, how much he was holding back.

For a moment, we just stood there, locked in that terrible, fragile tension, neither of us willing to back down. We were standing so close that I could feel the heat radiating from him. My hands hovered near his chest, fingers trembling, and I realized I wasn’t sure if I wanted to shove him again or pull him closer. The space between us was charged, full of everything we had never said, everything we had buried under fights and stubborn silences. The anger was still there, but this time it was different. It was dangerous, on the verge of tipping into something we might not come back from. It made me want to either scream until I lost my voice or pull him closer until I lost myself. The heat between us wasn’t just anger. It never had been.

But I was afraid. Because if this fight tipped over the edge, if the anger broke and gave way to whatever was underneath, there was no telling what we would become.

The silence hung thick between us, pressing down on my chest until I thought it might crush me. My hands were still shaking, hovering inches from his chest, and I could feel the tears still burning at the corners of my eyes. I was unraveling, breaking apart in front of him, and he just stood there, looking at me like he was barely holding himself together.

I hated how much I wanted to pull him closer, to make him feel everything that was tearing me apart. I hated how he could make me feel so angry and desperate all at once. The words came out before I could stop them, my voice cracking as it sliced through the silence. “I hate you sometimes.”

The second the words left my lips, his expression shifted. Matt’s eyebrow shot up, the surprise flashing in his eyes for only a moment before something more dangerous settled there. I felt my breath catch as he moved, swift and sudden, closing the space between us in a heartbeat. Before I knew what was happening, he had me pressed up against the wall, his hands braced on either side of my head.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. My back pressed against the cold wall, and the contrast made the heat between us feel even more intense. His body loomed over mine, trapping me there, and my pulse raced as I looked up at him. His face was close, so close, his blue eyes searching mine with an intensity that made me forget how to breathe.

He had me pinned, but he was careful… so careful. His hands stayed on the wall, never touching me, even though his presence was suffocating. His body was tense, muscles coiled with barely restrained energy, but I knew he’d never hurt me. That tension that had been building between us was almost suffocating now, crackling in the air, making me feel like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff.

“Sometimes, huh?” Matt’s voice was low, rough around the edges, but there was a flicker of something else there, something that made my knees weak. His eyes burned into mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body trembled with barely controlled restraint. “You hate me sometimes?”

I swallowed, my throat dry. His face was so close that I could see the way his jaw flexed, the way his eyes grew colder. My words had pushed him to the edge, and now he was here, trapping me between him and the wall, daring me to say something else. My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I could feel the heat rising in my face.

I wanted to shove him away, to scream at him to stop driving me crazy. But I also wanted something else, something that made me feel even more out of control. The way he looked at me, the way he held himself back from touching me even though he was so close, made my skin tingle with something that wasn’t anger anymore. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was all of it, tangled together so tightly that I couldn’t tell the difference.

I bit my lip, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Yeah. Sometimes.” The words shook, but I held his gaze, even though it made my stomach twist with that same confusing, overwhelming feeling.

Matt’s eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought he might actually step back. The anger still simmered between us, a tangible heat in the air, but there was something else there, something that made my pulse quicken. His hands moved from the wall, coming down slowly to rest on either side of my waist. I could feel the tremble in his grip, the restraint that was slowly breaking.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over my ear, and his voice was rough, like he was fighting every word before letting it escape. “I hate you, too.” he said, and the confession made something clench inside my chest. But his voice softened, cracking around the edges. “I hate how you drive me insane.”

I shivered as his fingers curled around my waist, his touch careful but strong, grounding me even though I was falling apart. He pulled back just enough so he could look at me, his eyes blazing with everything he hadn’t said until now. His gaze drifted over my face, and he lifted his hand, brushing his thumb over my cheek.

“I hate how you bite your lip when you’re trying to hold back your anger.” he murmured, his voice low. His thumb tugged gently at my bottom lip, and the touch sent a thrill racing through me, even as his words made my cheeks burn. “It drives me crazy.”

My breath caught in my throat, but he wasn’t finished. His hand moved to brush a strand of hair out of my face, his fingers trailing down the side of my neck. “I hate the way you push your hair behind your ears when you’re frustrated, even though you know it’s going to fall right back in front of your face.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the spot where my neck met my shoulder, and I couldn’t stop the way my body reacted, heat blooming under my skin. “And I hate that I notice it every damn time.”

His other hand moved up to cradle the side of my face, his thumb tracing over my jawline. His eyes never left mine, and the intensity there made my knees weak. “I hate how your eyes light up when you’re angry.” he said, his voice rougher now, full of the emotions he had been holding back. “The way you look at me like I’m the only person in the world who can make you feel this much. It makes me want to kiss you and fight you all at once.”

His hand slipped down, his fingers brushing over my collarbone, making my breath hitch. “I hate how soft your skin is.” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. “How every time I touch you, it feels like it’s never enough.”

I was trembling, caught between the anger still burning in my chest and the way his touch made my head spin. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against mine, and his next words made my heart stop. “I hate how much I need you, even when you’re driving me insane.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me again, his hands still holding me, keeping me pinned between him and the wall. His eyes were full of emotions I couldn’t even begin to untangle. “I hate how beautiful you look even when you’re yelling at me.” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I hate that I can’t stop wanting you, even when I know I should just walk away.”

His hands slid back to my waist, holding me tighter now, and I could feel the way his control was slipping. “God, I hate you for making me love every single thing about you.” he whispered, his voice raw and vulnerable in a way that shattered me.

My breath was shallow, my heart pounding. His words had stripped away the anger, leaving something deeper, something more dangerous. The way he looked at me, the way his hands held me like he never wanted to let go, made me feel like I was on the edge of something I couldn’t control.

My heart was racing, every word he said sinking into me like a flame, leaving me breathless. His confession left us both raw, vulnerable, and unguarded, but the intensity in his eyes made it impossible for me to look away. I was still pinned between him and the wall, but it felt different now. The anger had morphed into something deeper, something that twisted and burned in my chest.

His hands on my waist tightened just a fraction, and the tension between us crackled, a spark threatening to ignite. My breath hitched, and I knew he could feel how my body was reacting to him. My heart was slamming against my ribcage, and the space between us felt suffocating, electric.

“I can’t stand you.” I whispered, my voice breaking, though there was no anger left in it. My hands, which had been balled into fists, unfurled and rested against his chest, feeling the steady, erratic thump of his heart beneath my fingertips. I was still shaking, but now it wasn’t from rage. It was from everything else. Everything he made me feel. “You say all that like it’s supposed to make me hate you less.”

A low laugh escaped him, though it was more of a sound caught somewhere between frustration and desire. He leaned in until his forehead pressed against mine, his lips hovering just inches from mine. I could feel his breath, warm and ragged, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “You really think I want to make you hate me less?” he asked, his voice dropping even lower, sending a thrill straight through me. “I think I’m more addicted to you when you hate me.”

His fingers moved slowly, tracing small circles over my hips, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to shove him away, but I also wanted to pull him closer, to erase the sliver of space between us. I hated the way he knew that, the way he knew me better than anyone else.

“I hate that.” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I hate that you get under my skin like this.” My hands curled into his shirt, pulling him a fraction closer, and the tension between us reached a breaking point. “You make me feel insane, Matt.”

He exhaled heavily, and his eyes locked onto mine. His lips hovered so close to mine that I felt dizzy, caught between wanting to slap him and wanting to lose myself in him. His fingers moved from my hips to my back, his touch sending heat rushing through my body. “You drive me insane, too.” he murmured, his voice rough and full of something that made me ache.

And then, all at once, he broke. His lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding, and the fire that had been building between us exploded. I kissed him back instinctively, hard, my hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him. The anger melted into something desperate, something that had been buried under all the shouting and frustration, something that had always been there.

Matt pressed me harder against the wall, his hands gripping my hips, and I felt the heat of his body, the way he couldn’t hold back anymore. I gasped against his mouth, and he deepened the kiss, his touch consuming me. My whole body felt like it was on fire, and I realized that every push and pull, every fight, had led to this.

We were a mess, tangled together, caught up in this endless cycle of love and hate and everything in between. His hands roamed over me, careful but desperate, and I kissed him back just as fiercely, our shared frustration dissolving into something we couldn’t control.

I didn’t know where this was going, if we’d go back to fighting tomorrow, but right now, it didn’t matter. Right now, all that mattered was the way he made me feel, the way his kiss made me forget everything except for him.

Matt was panting, as his forehead pressed against mine, and I could feel the way his body trembled with the same tension that had been boiling over between us. His hands were still holding me against the wall, strong and steady, but he was careful, he always was, even when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. His eyes searched mine, wild and full of emotions that made my pulse race.

“I hate you.” he whispered again, but his voice was breaking now, rough and full of something I could almost taste between us. His lips hovered so close to mine that it was impossible to ignore how my heart was slamming in my chest. “I hate that even when I can’t stand you, when you make me so damn furious, I still want you. So badly.”

His words sent a jolt through me, and my fingers curled tighter into his shirt, feeling the hard beat of his heart beneath my touch. He leaned in, his voice rough and low, and it made every inch of me shiver. “I hate that even when we’re at each other’s throats, I only want to touch you.” he said, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me closer. “I hate that you’re in my head, that you’re under my skin, and I can’t get you out.”

My breath caught, and I didn’t know if I was burning with anger or desire or if there was even a difference between the two right now. His lips brushed against my ear, and I couldn’t stop the way my body reacted, a shiver running through me. “You make me so mad I can’t think straight, and yet all I want to do is kiss you until I can’t breathe.” he murmured, his voice like a confession, breaking with the frustration that had been building between us for so long.

My heart felt like it might explode. His words undid me, made me feel like I was teetering on the edge of something dangerous. The tension between us was electric, our anger shifting into something that burned just as fiercely but in a completely different way. His hand slid up to cup my jaw, his thumb swiping across my parted lips, and his eyes were so full of need that it stole my breath away.

I tilted my head up, meeting his gaze, my body trembling. “Then what are you waiting for?” I whispered, my voice shaking with everything we’d been holding back. “If you want me so bad, Matt, then do something about it.”

For a moment, his eyes widened, and then the last shred of restraint shattered. He closed the distance between us, his lips crashing into mine, and it felt like the world finally fell apart in the best possible way. His kiss was fierce, desperate, and I kissed him back just as hard, my hands tangling in his hair and pulling him closer.

The anger, the frustration, the need, it all melted together, consuming us. His hands gripped my waist, his touch rough and hungry, and I felt like I was free-falling, completely lost in him. The heat between us was overwhelming, and I couldn’t get enough, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything but the way he made me feel.

And in that moment, I realized that maybe we’d never make sense, but I didn’t care. Because being with him, feeling him, wanting him, and needing him, was the only thing that made me feel alive.

Matt’s hands gripped my waist tighter, and in one swift movement, he pulled me away from the wall. I gasped into his mouth, but he didn’t break the kiss. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, holding onto him as he held me against his body.

The sudden closeness made my head spin, and the way he carried me, strong and sure, sent a thrill coursing through my veins. His mouth was relentless, his kisses consuming every thought, every shred of doubt, and I clung to him, my hands still tangled in his hair. The need between us was electric, crackling through the air, making everything else melt away.

He moved through the apartment, never breaking our kiss, his lips desperate and unyielding. I felt my back press against the wall for a moment as he adjusted his grip on me, his mouth trailing hot, searing kisses down my neck, and I let out a shuddering breath, my hands sliding to his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

Somehow, Matt managed to navigate us to the bedroom, and he didn’t slow down. He carried me across the threshold of the room with the same desperate energy that had consumed us. But instead of tossing me onto the bed as I was expecting him to, he slowed his pace, his breath heavy against my neck. His grip on my waist was firm as he set me down gently in front of the full-length mirror that stood a few feet away from the bed.

His arms swiped past my waist as he walked around to stand right behind me, so we both could face the mirror standing before us. I felt the heat of his body radiating into mine, while his hands held my hips firmly. I barely had a moment to catch my breath before he leaned down, his mouth grazing the shell of my ear. I met his gaze in the reflection, and the look in his eyes made my heart pound even harder. His expression was raw, full of so many emotions that it left me breathless. The anger we’d been tangled in had transformed into something almost reverent, and it was impossible to look away.

“Look.” he murmured, his voice rough, his hands sliding up my sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “I want you to see what I see.” His eyes locked with mine in the mirror, and I could feel the way his body pressed against my back, strong and protective. He kept me pinned there, not with force, but with the magnetic pull between us, the connection that felt as though it was tightening, drawing us even closer.

“I hate,” he whispered, his lips grazing my neck. “The way you look at me with those eyes.” His hands slid up, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw, making me shiver. His thumb brushed over my lips, and I could barely breathe, the intensity in his voice making my knees weak. “I hate how you bite your lip like this.” he continued, his thumb tugging at my bottom lip. “Oh, the things I want to do to them.”

My breath came out shaky, my chest rising and falling rapidly as he held me there, making me face the reflection of us together. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered, like he could see right through me. His hands slid lower, tracing over my collarbone, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“I hate how addicted I am to you.” he said, his voice low and full of longing. His hands slid down, grazing the sides of my waist, and I felt every word reverberate through my body. “How I can’t stop touching you, even when I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

He took a slow, shuddering breath, his eyes darkening as he watched me in the mirror. “And I hate how you drive me absolutely crazy, how every little thing you do makes me want you more.” he whispered, his hands tightening on my waist. “The way you make me lose all my self-control, the way I can’t think straight when I’m this close to you.”

I was trembling, caught between the heat of his body and the intensity in his gaze. He moved one hand up, tilting my head back slightly, making sure I was looking at him. “Do you see what I see?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper, full of all the things he never said out loud. “Do you understand how much you drive me insane?”

The way he held me there, made me face myself through his eyes, was more intimate than anything we had ever shared. My heart raced, and I swallowed, unable to tear my gaze away from the raw, vulnerable way he was looking at me. It wasn’t anger anymore. It was desire, devotion, and a fierce, desperate need that consumed us both.

I bit my lip, and his eyes darkened further, his hand tightening on my jaw. “You see?” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “Even now, I can’t stand how much I need you.”

His hand slid from my jaw down to my throat, not to hold or restrain me, but just to feel my pulse racing under his fingertips. His touch was gentle yet commanding, and I was hyper-aware of every place our bodies pressed together. His other hand drifted lower, moving along the curve of my hip, his fingers splaying across my stomach as he held me against him.

“Look at you.” Matt whispered, his voice heavy with desire. His eyes never wavered from mine in the mirror, and I could feel the way he was fighting to keep his control, the tension coiling in every muscle of his body. “Do you see why I can’t walk away? Why I can’t get you out of my head, even when I’m so angry I can barely think?”

I swallowed hard, my breath catching as he kissed the side of my neck, lingering there, his lips brushing over my skin. The heat between us was palpable, overwhelming, and I couldn’t stop the way I leaned back into him, craving more of his touch, more of this intensity. My hands reached down, covering his where they rested on my stomach, and I felt the shiver that ran through him at my touch.

“I hate that you do this to me.” he continued, his voice rough and unsteady, full of raw honesty. “That you make me feel so out of control, like I’d do anything to have you. Even now, when I should be letting this anger go, all I can think about is you.” His eyes burned into mine in the mirror, and I felt my heart stutter in my chest.

He leaned in, his mouth brushing my ear, and his voice dropped even lower. “I hate how perfect you feel pressed against me.” he murmured, his hand sliding back up, tracing the line of my waist, igniting every nerve he touched. “How even when I know I shouldn’t, I need you like this.”

My breath came out in a shudder, and I tilted my head to the side, giving him more access to my neck. He took advantage of it, pressing slow, deliberate kisses to my skin, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp. “Matt…” I whispered, my voice breaking, and he groaned, his grip tightening on me.

“You make me lose my mind.” he confessed, his lips trailing lower, and I could feel the frustration and longing pouring out of him. “And I hate that even when we’re at each other’s throats, I still want you more than anything.”

His hands moved with more urgency now, sliding over my body like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he touched me made it feel like he was trying to claim me, to remind me that no one else could ever make him feel this way. Our reflection in the mirror was a mix of heat and tension, the line between love and hate blurred beyond recognition.

I turned my head slightly, catching his lips in a kiss that was just as desperate, just as full of everything we hadn’t been able to put into words. He kissed me back hard, like he was trying to make up for every angry, unsaid thing. His hands tangled in my hair, slightly tugging so my head could be titled higher.

Matt’s kiss was hungry, devouring, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I turned in his grip, breaking free from our mirrored reflection so I could face him directly. My fingers reached for the hem of his t-shirt and I pulled it up and over his head, discarding it onto the floor. My hands slid up his bare chest, and I felt the rapid beat of his heart underneath my palms, and it somehow made me feel grounded in the moment. He was mine and I was his. Our thundering heartbeats were the proof of that.

His hands found my waist again, gripping me tight as he pulled me flush against him. The intensity in his eyes was almost overwhelming, a storm that reflected everything he felt but couldn’t say. He kissed me again, harder this time, and I kissed him back with just as much desperation, pouring every ounce of frustration and need into it.

Our bodies pressed together, his fingers slipping under the hem of my shirt, his touch hot against my skin. I gasped at the feeling, and he swallowed the sound with a growl, his lips moving to my neck, trailing kisses and light nips that made my knees go weak. “I can’t stand how much I want you.” he whispered against my skin, his voice breaking, raw and full of longing. “Even now, after everything.”

My fingers were found in his hair again, as I tilted my head back to give him more access, and he didn’t hesitate. His hands roamed over me, igniting every inch he touched, and I felt like I was being consumed, lost in him. “Matt…” I breathed, and he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto mine.

The look we shared was a mixture of everything, anger, desire and vulnerability. It made me feel like I was standing on the edge of something I couldn’t control. “Do you understand?” he asked, his voice shaking as his hands cradled my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks. “Do you get how much you mean to me, even when we’re tearing each other apart?”

I nodded, too breathless to speak, and he leaned in, his forehead pressing against mine. “I hate that I can’t let you go.” he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of the confession. “That no matter how hard we fight, I’m always going to want you. Need you.”

My heart twisted at the raw honesty in his words, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mix of overwhelming emotions flooding through me. I cupped his face, brushing my thumbs over his cheekbones, and pulled him into a kiss that was softer, more vulnerable. It was an answer, a way to show him that I felt it, too. Every burning, uncontainable emotion.

He kissed me back, his lips gentle now, as if we were both afraid of shattering this fragile moment. His hands slid down my sides, and he pulled me closer, his body relaxing into mine, though the tension was still there, simmering under the surface. “We’re a mess.” I whispered against his lips, and he let out a chuckle.

“But we’re our mess.” he replied, his voice husky. His fingers traced small circles on my lower back, and the touch made my head spin. “And I’m not going anywhere, even if you drive me insane.”

I smiled, a shaky, broken thing, and kissed him again, feeling the fire between us transform into something softer, something full of hope. The fight had stripped us bare, exposed every raw nerve, but here we were, still tangled up in each other, still holding on.

Matt’s hands moved to my waist, and he picked me up again, his eyes full of something warm and unbreakable. “We’re not done yet.” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m going to show you exactly how much you mean to me.”

He carried me to the bed, never breaking eye contact, and I felt my heart race in a different way now. The anger was gone, replaced with something even more powerful, and I knew, no matter how many fights we had, we’d always find our way back to each other.

My back met the softness of the mattress, but he was right there, following me down, his body pressing against mine as he kept me pinned beneath him. His weight was a comfort and a thrill, and I couldn’t stop the way I arched into him, my lips finding his again, hungry and desperate.

My hands roamed over his back, feeling the muscles tense under my touch, and the fire between us only grew. His mouth left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot on my neck, and I couldn’t stop the small, breathless moan that escaped my lips. The sound seemed to spur him on, his hands exploring, his body pressing me into the bed with a possessive urgency that made me feel like I was on fire.

Then something shifted inside me. I could feel the heat of his body, his touch, his gaze, but now there was a different kind of pull. A daring thought that made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected. We were both so raw, so stripped of our walls, and I knew this was the moment to push the boundaries, to ask for something more.

I ran my fingers down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under my touch, and the way his muscles tensed in response. I could sense the hunger in him, the need for more, but there was something else, something I’d always wanted but never quite said aloud.

“Matt.” I whispered, my voice low and a little unsteady as I met his gaze, watching his eyes flicker with curiosity. “I want you to teach me a lesson.” I said, my words hanging in the air between us, daring him to challenge me.

His brow furrowed slightly, a questioning look crossing his face. “What do you mean by that?” His voice was rough, but there was an edge of caution in it, as if he wasn’t sure where this was going.

I could feel the weight of his uncertainty, and it sent a rush of excitement through me. “You know how much I like it when we’re reckless.” I continued, my words coming faster now, a mix of confidence and need. “When we’re not so… careful. When we’re not playing it safe.”

I saw his breath hitch at my words, and a slow, dangerous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The same smile I’d seen before, when we’d both let go of our inhibitions and let the passion between us burn out of control. It was a reckless thing, but it was always what pushed me, always what made me feel alive.

“I want you to take control.” I said, my voice quieter now, but full of intention. “Don’t hold back. I want to feel everything.”

His eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide. The air around us seemed to grow thick with anticipation, every nerve in my body lighting up under his gaze. He was still, but there was a storm brewing beneath the surface, and I could feel it. The tension in his muscles, the quickened breath, he was holding back just as much as I was, and I could feel it.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” Matt’s voice was low, gritty, as he hovered above me, looking down at me like I was something he couldn’t resist. “You’re asking for it.”

I shivered at his words, the rawness in his tone making my heart race even faster. My pulse was pounding in my ears, and I felt a thrill of excitement rush through me. It made me feel like I was losing control in the best possible way. I smiled up at him, my lips curling into something that was part challenge, part desire. “Then show me.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Show me how much you really want me.”

Without a word, his lips crashed onto mine, but this time it wasn’t tender. It was demanding, hungry, filled with everything we’d both been holding back. The kiss was deep, fierce, his hands roaming over me with a hunger I hadn’t seen in him for a long time.

I could feel the way he pulled me closer, closer, until there was no space between us, and I knew this was it. There was no going back now. He wanted to teach me a lesson, and I was ready to be taught, ready to give in to everything he wanted.

Matt pulled my hands over my head and tightened his grip around my wrists as he pressed me further into the bed, his weight following down on me in one swift, controlled motion. As he topped me, I could feel the weight of his presence which was solid, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore. Every nerve in my body was lit ablaze.

His free hand moved quickly, impatient, but deliberate. He wasn’t being gentle anymore. His fingers trailed down my body, skimming over my chest, my stomach, making my skin burn with every touch. I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as he pushed me further into the mattress, his body pressing against mine with an undeniable force.

His hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him, eyes wide, heart pounding in anticipation. His expression was intense, the kind of look that made everything else fade away. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just pure need. He slid his hand down my body, taking hold of my waist, his thumb brushing over the waistband of my sweatpants, his touch sending jolts of electricity through me.

He didn’t give me a chance to think before he was tugging at my pants, pulling them down with a raw, impatient motion. I gasped as his lips moved down on my neck, his teeth scraping against my skin as his hand worked their way up my thighs. I shuddered under his touch, rough and possessive, making me feel like I was completely at his mercy.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” he whispered, but there was no softness in his voice, just a challenge, a dare. His eyes burned with a fierce desire, and I could tell he was barely holding it together. “Tell me if you don’t want this.”

I shook my head, my voice barely a breath as I answered, “Don’t stop. Please.”

A slow, satisfied grin spread across his face, and he nodded as if that was all the confirmation he needed. His hand moved closer to where I ached for him, exploring with no caution, only the promise of a wild, unfiltered kind of connection that I knew would drive me crazy. I arched into him, my body reacting before my mind could catch up, and the intensity between us grew, more electric, more desperate.

There was nothing soft about the way he began to kiss me again. His lips were bruising, his teasing fingers pulling me tighter, with an urgency that left me breathless. I felt completely consumed by him, every inch of my body aching for his touch, for the wild, reckless connection that had always been a part of us.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice dark, and there was something primal in the way he looked at me, something that made me feel both wanted and lost in the best way possible.

I managed to nod amidst the writhing from the delicious play of his fingers. “Yes.” I breathed, my voice trembling with need. “I want this. I want you.”

With that, Matt’s remaining restraint snapped. “On your knees. Now.” he demanded standing up, and I obeyed instantly as I sat up on the bed. Before I could fully adjust, Matt was already moving behind me, sliding onto the bed with a fluid, almost predatory grace. He settled himself against me, his chest pressing to my back as he let out a satisfied hum. I could feel his heat radiating off of him, and it made my body tighten in anticipation.

I finally registered what was happening, we were facing the mirror again. His hands grabbed my hips and began to draw circles onto my skin. I watched in the reflection how I was a panting mess while he looked at me with sheer determination probably coming up with ways on how to ruin me tonight in the best way possible. There was no hesitation in him now, just pure drive.

He didn’t say anything at first, but I could feel his hands moving over me. They slid up my back under the fabric of my shirt, until his fingertips found the bare skin of my stomach. I sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of his touch, and just as I thought I might lose myself in it, he spoke, his voice low and heavy with intent.

“Look at us.” he murmured, his voice gravelly with desire. “I want you to see exactly what’s happening. See how I have you, how badly I want you.” His hands shifted, moving to my waist and he tugged me back into him with a force that made my pulse spike. I could feel the press of his body against mine, the weight of him behind me. “Eyes on us only.” he commanded, his voice low and filled with an intense, possessive edge to it as his hands gripped me tighter urging me to face the reflection at all times. “I want you to see how much I fucking crave you. How much you drive me insane. I want you to see this. All of it.”

My pulse quickened at the sight of us like this. This image was not going to leave my mind anytime soon, guaranteed. I could feel his breath against my neck, as his hands slid all over my body.

Matt’s eyes watched as he held me in place, steady and determined. His fingers moved slowly and deliberately, brushing my hair aside and kissing my neck again, the sensation sending waves of heat through me. The image in front of us caused me to let out a whine. Watching the way Matt took me was enough to make me lose my mind.

I could see us in the mirror, my body pressed up against his, desperately grinding to be able to feel him in every way. His hands roamed over me as I surrendered to his touch, my eyes meeting his in the reflection. The way he touched me was nothing short of possessive, but there was a wild intensity in his gaze that made everything inside me burn hotter.

“You’re mine.” he declared, his hands tracing the line of my waist as he continued to guide me, to make me see the way he had me, the way he needed me. “And I’m not letting you forget it.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the mirror, from the sight of him behind me, his hands moving over me with such authority. It was like a constant reminder of what we had, what we shared, what drove us insane. There was no softness now, only the raw, unfiltered connection that we both craved.

Matt moved again, his lips pressing to the curve of my shoulder as he spoke, his words a dark promise. “I want you to see how fucking perfect you are for me.”

The intensity in his voice, in his touch, made my breath catch. But it was the way he made me look at us in the mirror that took me to the edge. He wanted me to witness it, to see the rawness, the passion, the hunger.

“Tell me you see it.” he demanded, his voice a low growl against my skin, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Tell me you see how much I need you. How much I fucking hate that I can’t stop wanting you, even when I should.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words hanging in the air between us, and I nodded, breathless. “I see it.” I whispered, my voice shaky, as I caught a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror again. Matt’s hands roamed over me, his eyes locked onto mine, both of us caught in the heat of the moment. “I see everything.”

Matt’s lips curled into a grin, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Good.” he muttered, before pulling me closer, forcing me to feel every inch of him against me, to feel how badly he wanted me, how much he couldn’t stop.

In the mirror, we were nothing but two bodies tangled in heat, raw and real. The recklessness, the intensity, it was all laid bare for us both to see.

His hands slid lower, pushing the fabric of my shirt up, exposing more of my skin to his touch, and I couldn’t help the gasp that left my lips. He leaned in closer, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just beneath my ear as his hands continued to explore me in a way that was possessive, urgent, and relentless.

I stared at our reflection and I could barely recognize myself. My face was flushed, my body trembling under his touch, the raw hunger between us reflected in the glass. The tension in the room was thick, palpable, and as he moved against me, guiding me to a rhythm that was anything but gentle. I could feel every inch of my body burning for him, the need growing, swelling, until there was nothing else but us.

The last piece of clothing was peeled off of me and thrown off the bed. The tension, the heat, everything in the room seemed to intensify as we came together skin to skin. His hands skimmed over the newly exposed areas of my skin, touching me like he was marking his territory, claiming me in ways that made my head spin. Every movement felt like it was too much and not enough at the same time.

I felt completely exposed, held in place by his hands, his body, but I could feel the weight of his gaze on me in the reflection. He was so close, the heat of him making me tremble with desire. “Fuck, just look at you.” he groaned, his lips just brushing my neck, sending a shiver down my spine as my eyes fell closed. His hands gripped my hips hard, pulling me back into him with a force that made my eyes shot open. “Eyes open, remember?” he whispered, his voice rough, demanding. “You’re going to watch me take you how I want to.”

Matt’s hands moved with intent, his fingers grazing over my skin like he was marking every inch of me, every curve, every soft, trembling part of me that responded to him. My body was completely alive under his touch, each sensation driving me wild, and I couldn’t escape it. His lips, his body, the heat between us, everything blurred into one, and the reflection in the mirror only made it more intense.

I could see in the mirror the way his eyes darkened with something darker than just lust, something deeper, something more possessive. The way his jaw clenched, how his body seemed to take on a life of its own as he held me, as if the two of us couldn’t be separated by anything now. My breath caught as he moved me again, pressing me harder against him, both of us becoming consumed by the moment.

His hands slid upward, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my bare stomach before moving higher, teasing me with soft, deliberate touches. My breath hitched as his palms cupped my breasts, his touch firm yet reverent. I tilted my head back against his shoulder, my eyes fluttering shut, but his low voice brought me back.

“Eyes open, remember?” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. His voice was rough, filled with a mix of admiration and control. “Look at yourself. Look at what I see.”

I opened my eyes reluctantly, meeting our reflection in the mirror again. The sight made my pulse quicken. His hands were moving slowly, as if he was memorizing every curve, every inch of me. His gaze was fixed on mine in the mirror, which made my skin flush and my heart race.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my neck as his hands continued their maddening exploration. “God, the way you feel under my hands. Like you were made just for me.” he groaned as his hands continued to move, roaming lower and then higher again, tracing over my skin like he was sculpting me.

His fingers faintly grazed my sensitive nipples and I shivered, my head falling back against him. My breath hitched, my body arching slightly into his touch as his thumbs continued their teasing. 

His hands cupped me roughly as he pulled me back into him. The way he massaged the swells of my breasts in a tantalizing way had me whimpering defeatedly, and the glass reflected every moment of it. With one hand I reached behind and held onto the nape of his neck, in an attempt to anchor myself as I slowly spiralled away, as the other held onto one of his arms that had me currently at his mercy. His touch was so consuming, it felt like he was imprinting himself on me, marking me, claiming me in ways that was far from soft and gentle.

He wasn’t holding back anymore, and neither was I. Every inch of us was a mix of hunger and heat, of something wild and unrestrained, like we were both completely untethered in this moment. The reflection showed how much he was losing himself in me and how I was losing myself in him.

I could feel myself slipping, and yet, I didn’t want to pull away. If anything, I wanted more. I needed more of him.

“Fuck…” Matt whispered, his voice trembling now with that same rawness that had been building since the moment he touched me. His hands moved lower, pressing into me with an almost desperate urgency, his chest rising against my back with every heavy breath. “I can’t get enough of you.”

His words were pushing me further to the edge, electrifying every part of me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I could only feel him, feel the way he gripped me, the way he held me against him, the way he claimed me. And I couldn’t stop myself from giving in.

“See how much I need you? Even when I can’t stand you.” he said, his breath warm against my skin as he kissed along my shoulder. “You drive me fucking wild. You make me lose control in the best way.”

All that came out of me was a pathetic breathy cry in response to his confession, because I couldn’t form any words right now even if I tried. I could only focus on how mercilessly his fingertips were pinching and rubbing my now erect and sensitive nipples.

“You’re fucking perfect for me.” he went on, his lips close to my ear. “I hate how much I can’t stop needing you. Even when we’re tearing each other apart.”

“I- I can’t anymore.” I shook my head desperately not being able to handle it anymore. “Please… I need you so bad.” I begged him.

“I hate how perfect you are.” he said, his tone darkening as his hands slid lower, exploring every inch of me calculatively. “How every part of you drives me insane. Your body, your skin, the way you sound when you can’t take it anymore…”

“M- Matt.” I stuttered, my voice trembling as I watched him in the mirror. My hands gripped the sheets trying to steady myself as I felt him swipe against my swollen folds. But the way his hands moved, slow and teasing, never giving me enough to satisfy the ache building inside me made it impossible to hold on.

He smirked, his lips brushing against my shoulder as his hands continued their torturous path. “Look at you fall apart so beautifully.” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as he made sure to neglect my aching bud just so he could torment me for a little longer. “Completely undone. Completely mine.”

I let out a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment before I forced them open again. The sight of us in the mirror, the way his hands roamed over me, the way his lips hovered over my skin, was almost too much.

“I can’t…” I gasped, my voice breaking as one finger pushed inside me, slowly pumping me, his pace steady, as if he was intent on driving me over the edge.

“Yes, you can.” he said, his tone firm but filled with dark amusement. His hands tightened slightly on my hips, pulling my legs further apart. “You can take it. Because you love this. You love what I do to you.”

I couldn’t deny it. The way he touched me and the way he looked at me. It was overwhelming, maddening, and yet I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t think I could bear it if he did.

I watched, wide-eyed, as his fingers moved expertly, almost effortlessly, sending jolts of pleasure through me that made my head spin. My body reacted to every touch, every movement, and the reflection only made it worse. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his body clenched as he held me, the way his chest heaved with every breath. I felt like I was drowning in the heat of it all, but there was no escaping.

“Matt, please.” I pleaded, my voice trembling as I met his eyes in the mirror again. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make my breath catch, and I knew he wasn’t finished with me yet.

“Say it.” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. His hands moved slower now, teasing me with a maddening precision that made my body tremble. “Say you love how I touch you. Say you love how I make you feel.”

I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding as I tried to form the words. “I love it.” I finally whispered, my voice barely audible.

He smirked again, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

And as another finger entered me, teasing and tormenting me, I knew he meant it. I couldn’t look away from the mirror, couldn’t escape the intensity of his gaze, the way he made me feel like I was completely his. Completely consumed. Completely undone.

Matt’s other hand caressed my curves, igniting sparks with every touch. My body was trembling under his control, caught between desperation and surrender. In the mirror, I saw the reflection of myself which was blushed and breathless, as my chest rose and fell rapidly whereas Matt looked so much more composed and steady behind me, with his eyes never leaving mine.

His hand then slid down to my thighs, his grip firm as he pulled my legs further apart so I could stop clenching them close. I could feel the strength in his hold, the tension in his body as if he was holding himself back, waiting for something. His lips brushed the curve of my shoulder, then down my spine, taking his time as if he had all the time in the world all while his fingers continued to pump me. And it only heightened the ache building inside of me.

“Matt, please.” I gasped, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I was feeling. The tension in my body was unbearable, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

He smirked against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. “Please, what?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. “Tell me what you want, baby. Say it.”

I met his eyes in the mirror again, my reflection a perfect picture of surrender. My parted lips trembled as I tried to find the words, but I could only focus on how his fingers felt against my walls. His calculated torture continued, and I couldn’t hold back the shaky cry that escaped me.

“Please.” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I can’t take it anymore.”

His smirk deepened, his hands tightening on my hips as he pulled me even closer. “You can.” he said, his voice firm but filled with dark amusement. “And you will.”

Probably gaining some sympathy for me, his thumb finally attended my throbbing bud, his touch sending a fresh wave of electricity through me. My body arched against him, my head falling back against his shoulder as I let out a soft, breathless moan. The tension inside me was unbearable now, a storm building with no escape.

“Look at yourself.” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. His eyes burned into mine in the mirror, his gaze so intense it made my heart race. “Look at how beautiful you are. How perfect you are. So needy just for me.”

My breath hitched, my hands gripping the sheets below me as I tried to hold on, but the way his hands moved, it was impossible to focus on anything but him.

“Look at me.” he commanded softly, his voice low but firm. His hand slid up my back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as he pressed gently between my shoulder blades, making me arch just enough to meet his eyes in the mirror. My breath hitched at the sight.

There we were, framed perfectly in the reflection. My hair was messy, cascading over my shoulders, my lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. Behind me, Matt’s eyes were locked on mine, intense and smoldering, his chest rising and falling with the same rapid rhythm as mine. His hand gripped my hip now, steadying me, grounding me, as if he could feel how close I was to unraveling. The reflection captured every detail of us, the way I was on my knees, my hands gripping the sheets, and Matt right behind me working through me. But all I could do was whimper at the sinful moving image in front of us.

Matt’s hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to my stomach, pulling me closer against him, while the other remained between my legs buried in me, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through me. My body trembled under his hands, as he pushed me further and further to the edge.

“Don’t look away.” he said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes never left mine in the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze made it impossible to do anything but obey.

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers clutching the sheets beneath me as he moved more quickly now. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to drive me to the brink and keep me there, hovering just out of reach of release. It was maddening, overwhelming, and yet, I didn’t want it to stop.

“Matt.” I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. My head tilted back slightly, but his hand on my stomach tightened, guiding me back into the position he wanted.

“Eyes on the mirror.” he reminded me, his tone firm but filled with dark promise. “I want you to see yourself. See what you do to me.”

My eyes flicked back to the mirror, and the sight was almost too much. His jaw was tight, his lips slightly parted as he watched me, his own desire evident in the way his breathing quickened.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense. His fingers moved with purpose, his touch bringing me closer and closer to the edge. “So perfect. Do you feel that? Do you feel how much I want you?”

I couldn’t answer. Words failed me as the pressure inside me built, my body trembling under his touch. My reflection in the mirror told him everything he needed to know from my flushed cheeks, my half-lidded eyes, and the way my body leaned into his every move.

Suddenly I felt my chest tighten, but it wasn’t just the physical rush, instead it was the overwhelming flood of emotions, the raw intensity of it all. The hunger, the desire, the frustration, the anger, the need. It all mixed into something I couldn’t control. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Tears welled up in my eyes, emotions bubbling up from deep within me as the weight of everything we’d been through hit me harder than I expected. I was shaking now, but it wasn’t just from desire. My mascara smeared, the black streaks starting to run down my cheeks as the tears broke free. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop it. The overwhelming combination of wanting him, needing him, and everything else crashing inside me was too much.

I felt Matt’s hands on me, his touch soft but firm as he caught sight of my tears. He stopped for a moment, his eyes moving over my face with something tender in them, even though his breath was still coming hard and fast. His thumb traced the path of my tears, gently wiping away the mascara that had smeared across my cheeks. His fingers lingered, his touch almost reverent, as if trying to memorize every part of me in this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration and something darker, something deeper. His words seemed to crack through the haze of everything, and for a second, everything felt surreal. His gaze never left mine as his hands moved to gently cup my face, his thumb wiping away the last of the tears. “You have no idea how much you drive me insane. Watching you like this… watching you fall apart… fuck, you have no idea how much I need you.”

I couldn’t respond, the words were caught in my throat. It wasn’t just the physical sensation of him from his touch, his lips, and his body which had me trembling. It was the rawness of it all. The way I felt completely exposed, vulnerable yet wanted. The way he made me feel seen, in every sense. Everything I had kept locked away, all the things I couldn’t say, couldn’t express, were being poured out in that single moment. And he wasn’t pulling back. He was letting me come undone, and I could feel him losing himself just as much in me.

“I’ve got you, baby.”  Matt whispered into my ear, consoling me. His lips grazed my neck showing his devotion to me as I tried to catch my breath.

I was shaking, my body trembling from the intensity of it all. The vulnerability, the need, the rawness. The emotions, the fight, and the desire, it was all merging together in a way that felt too much, and yet, it felt right.

“You’re everything to me.” he said, voice rough as his lips brushed against my skin again, his hands moving to hold me tighter. “Everything I can’t stop wanting.”

My breath caught as he pressed into me again, his body against mine, every part of me responding to him, and all I could do was surrender to the moment. To him.

And as the tears continued to streak down my face, I felt something shift. In that moment, as Matt held me against him, his presence overwhelming and his love, despite everything, suffocating me with warmth, I knew that no matter how much we fought, no matter how much we struggled, we were made for each other.

“I can feel it.” he whispered, against my shoulder now, his voice low and filled with dark satisfaction. “You’re so close, aren’t you?”

I nodded again, my breath hitching as his movements became more insistent, more purposeful. My fingers gripped the sheets tighter, my body trembling as I felt myself nearing the point of no return.

“I got you.” Matt said, his voice rough with need. His eyes burned into mine in the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze sent me spiraling. “Let go. I want to see you fall apart.”

And I did. The moment his words hit me, the wave crashed over me, intense and all-consuming. My body tensed, then shattered into pieces, the release hitting me so hard I could barely breathe. My cries filled the room, raw and unrestrained, as Matt held me steady, his hands gripping me tightly, guiding me through the overwhelming sensation.

In the mirror, I saw it all, the way my body gave in to him, the way his eyes stayed locked on mine, watching me with a mix of pride and possessiveness that sent another shiver down my spine. He looked at me like I was his world, like he couldn’t believe I was here with him, falling apart because of him. My reflection in the mirror looked as undone as I felt, my hair wild, my lips parted, and my body trembling under his touch.

As I came down from the high, Matt leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder. Still recovering from the intensity of what we’d just shared, he wasn’t letting go of me… at least not yet.

Matt’s hands gripped my hips firmly as he spun me around, my back now meeting the mattress, causing me to shiver from detaching from his warm body to now laying on the cold bedsheet which heavily contrasted against my heated skin. His mouth crashed onto mine with a force that stole my breath away, and a spark igniting between us once again. As his weight pressed down on me and I felt our bare chests colliding, I arched into him finally getting to embrace him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His lips moved from mine, trailing along my jaw, my neck, and lower still as he explored my naked body with an unrelenting intensity. My head tilted back, my hair spilling off the edge of the mattress, giving me a disorienting but electrifying view of the mirror.

Through the reflection, I saw him and his dark hair falling over his eyes. His body taut with control as he moved deliberately, his lips and hands worshiping every inch of me. The sight was almost too much, my chest heaving with every sharp intake of breath, my body trembling under his care and command.

“Matt…” I whispered, my voice breaking into a moan as his lips pressed to the sensitive skin below my ribs, making me arch further into him.

He looked up, his eyes catching mine in the reflection, a smirk playing at his lips. “Still watching?” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he kissed his way back up to my chest, his mouth claiming me in ways that made my head spin. “Good. I want you to see everything.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t stop myself from moaning softly, my hands gripping the sheets as he positioned himself above me. The weight of him was grounding, his hands guiding my thighs as he pulled me closer.

“Fuck...” he hissed, his voice raw with emotion as he hovered above me, his eyes locking with mine in the mirror again. “I can’t hold back anymore.”

“I don’t want you to.” I whispered, my voice trembling but certain.

He didn’t hesitate to strip himself of the last pieces of garments on his body. Before I could brace myself, in one swift movement he took me completely, the world seeming to come to a halt. Every nerve in my body lit up, the intensity of him overwhelming me in the best way. I gasped, my hands clutching at his shoulders as he began to move, each deliberate thrust sending shockwaves through me.

The reflection in the mirror caught my eye again, him above me, his body moving with purpose, and his jaw clenched as he fought to keep control. The sight of us together, tangled and raw, sent a fresh wave of heat through me.

His lips found my bare chest again, kissing and teasing as his hands smoothed across my body, making me moan his name. “Matt… oh God…” I cried, my voice cracking as he drove me higher and higher, each movement deliberate and unyielding.

“Hold on for me just a bit longer, sweetheart.” he murmured against my skin, his lips brushing against my stomach as he thrusted deeper, his hands tightening on my hips.

My head tilted further back, my gaze catching the reflection of my flushed face, my body trembling beneath him, the way his hands claimed me so completely. The sight was overwhelming, my breathing erratic as I felt myself falling apart under his touch.

He kissed his way back up to my neck, his lips grazing my ear as he whispered, “You’ve never looked more beautiful. Falling apart for me.”

His words sent me spiraling, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. The air became thick with the weight of everything from our desires, our frustrations, and our need for one another. I could feel Matt’s hands on me, his body pressing into mine, his movements rough and yet achingly tender. Every touch, every kiss, every whisper of his breath against my skin only drove me deeper into the madness we’d created between us.

I could feel his body press harder against me, our hips aligning, and the moment was too much. Everything inside me was about to snap. I could barely breathe, barely think as the desire for him overtook every part of me, and the desperate need for release clawing at me with each passing second.

“Matt.” I gasped, my voice broken as I moved with him, the rhythm of our bodies desperate and uncontrolled. “I can’t… I’m-”

He silenced me with a kiss, his lips crashing into mine with a ferocity that only heightened the fire between us. My body tensed beneath him, my nails digging into his back as I cried out his name, the intensity of my release crashing over me.

I felt Matt’s own release moments later, his movements slowing as he buried his face in the curve of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His body tightened against mine, his grip on me unrelenting, like he couldn’t let go even if he tried.

For what felt like an eternity, we stayed like that, entangled, breathless, and our hearts racing in sync. I could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest, the warmth of his body surrounding me, as if he was holding me together, holding me whole.

And then, as the world slowly started to come back into focus, I felt him lift his head, his eyes meeting mine. The way he looked at me, so full of something raw and something deep, it made my heart flutter. He kissed me softly, his lips lingering against mine before he pulled back just enough to brush the hair from my face.

“You’re perfect.” he said, his voice soft now, almost reverent. “You’re perfect for me. I don’t care how much we fight, how much we push each other away… You’re all I want. Always.”

The tears that had fallen earlier now dried on my cheeks, and I realized they weren’t from frustration or anger. They were from everything I felt in that moment. From everything we’d been through and everything we still had to face, together.

I rested my forehead against his, breathing him in, and in the stillness that followed, I realized just how much this man and this relationship had shaped me.

“I love you.” I whispered, my voice trembling with a softness that felt so strange after everything we’d just shared. But it was true. So deeply, so undeniably true.

Matt’s hand gently cupped my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek where the last remnants of my mascara still lingered. “I love you too.” he said quietly, his voice a whisper against my lips. “No matter what.”

fin.

[sucker4colby]

Parties over: Part 2

Summary : Colby’s in the doghouse after forgetting his girlfriends birthday to hang out with amber. He has to knock down the wall she built around herself.

Warning : angst , jealousy , insecurity, cussing

Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader

Part 1

It took me a moment to be able to tear my gaze away from my reflection and to stop criticizing everything I saw. I had to accept today was going to be one of those where I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin so I just made my way downstairs after changing into shorts and a knitted sweater hoping I wouldn’t see the blue eyed boy I was upset with.

Unfortunately for me he sat at the island eating a bowl of cereal in his own world as our friends did their own thing around him. I noticed how his hair was unruly and he looked tired as If he didn’t sleep last night. My eyes snapped away from him as Sam called out my name. “ there’s breakfast over on the counter if you want some.” The blonde boy pointed over his shoulder at the counter where a stack of waffles resided. I could see Colby’s head snap up from the corner of my eyes to look at me as his friend announced my presence but I avoided looking at him knowing I’d break on the spot to look at him. I smiled at Sam muttering a thank you as I made my way over to the food.

I heard his chair scrape against the floor as he hurriedly walked over to me stopping me from taking a plate . “ I can get your food.” Colby offered grabbing the plate I was reaching for looking down at me. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I glared at him. “ I’m not hungry anymore thanks.” I spat spinning on my heels and walking away from the prying eyes of our friends. He was just going to act like he didn’t blow me off on my birthday to be with another woman and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that slide.

I might overreacted but If I wasn’t important enough why did he keep the act up, why not just rip the bandage off and break up with me. I sighed walking into the living room to see the mess from last night, cups ,trash bottles of liquor littered every surface. Grabbing a trash bag from the cabinet I began picking up hoping to get a head start before everyone came to help out.

I know he was standing there trying to figure out how to approach me but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he needed so I just pretended he wasn’t there. It was a difficult task to do when his blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my skin, I could see the distraught look on his face and it hurt my heart but he was the one who messed up.

Finally he cleared his throat to announce his presence as if I didn’t already know, it was hard not know when you’ve memorized the sound of his footsteps and when his presence filled up the whole room. I looked up to meet his sad eyes quirking an eyebrow up at him. “ I have something for you.” He told me in a small voice and brought his hands out in front of him presenting a small black box. I could see him deflect more as he noticed I wasn’t changing my stoic composure towards him. “ I also ordered you a cake from that bakery you like, I know you wanted one of those for your birthday.” He rambled only making me more upset. I hated that I couldn’t stay angry at him, was I really that smitten over him that I’d roll over and act like nothing happened just because it was him.

“ yeah for my birthday Colby.. which was yesterday had you of cared enough you would’ve remembered but how could you ? You were a bit …preoccupied.” I spat out the last word throwing the trash bag on the couch moving past him to go cool off in my room.

I threw myself on the bed and cried wishing my comforter would just hide me away from everything. He was probably trying to be nice so he wouldn’t feel bad once he left me for amber. My chest burned with jealousy at the thought of him doing everything I wanted of him for her, why wasn’t I good enough for him, He was everything for me and maybe that was the problem. I had to make it easier on both of us and end things myself because I know he wouldn’t do it.

I didn’t hear my door open or close but I noticed my bed dip making me wipe my eyes and look out from under cover. I cried even harder once I saw Colby sitting next me. He had tears in his eyes as well as he moved to put me on his lap, I didn’t try to fight him because this is probably the last time I’ll get to be in his arms. I wanted to memorize everything about him before I lost him.

“Baby I’m so sorry, I was a dumbass, I promise I didn’t mean to forget I just had to much on my plate and I got my days mixed up.” He sniffled setting his cheek on my head and caressing my leg knowing that calmed me down. “Do you not love me anymore?" I asked looking down at my lap picking at the loose thread on my knitted sweater. I felt like I could throw up waiting for him to answer me. "What ?" He asked me I could feel the bed shift under his weight as he turned to face me.

My face heated up at having to repeat my previous statement. I was embarrassed I had to ask him if he still loved me , if he did I wouldn't have to ask and save myself the heartache. " if you don't that's ok, i just.. I feel like I should know if you don't love me anymore, no one should be in a relationship without love." I mumbled my voice cracking as I tried to stop myself from crying even more. I could feel the tears pooling at my waterline even more as I tried to stop myself causing me to grow frustrated with myself . I put my hands over my face shielding my face from his view as my body shook after each sob.

“ baby I love you so much it hurts, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this. I’m sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whimpered rocking us back and forth holding me tighter to his body. “ I love you so so much, I was looking forward to yesterdays date because that’s the day my love was born, I should’ve been here but I promise I’ll make it up to you now.” He whispered kissing the crown of my head and I wrapped my arms around him. My heart softening “ I could never love anyone the way I love you, I can’t imagine getting so excited to come home to someone that isn’t you, you’re my favorite part of everyday and I don’t ever want to lose that.” His words slowly eased my worries.

I felt horrible because Colby wasn’t a bad person and he’d never intentionally hurt someone. I was so insecure I forgot how kind hearted and pure he was, That’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. I was caught up in my head I almost him because I was being childish. “ I’m sorry, I overreacted.” I hiccuped into his neck as I hugged him close to my body. He let out a small laugh rubbing circles on my back under my sweater. “ I think you under-reacted, I thought I was done for.” He told me causing me to giggle. “ I’m really sorry baby I know you were looking forward to your birthday.” He apologized again leaning back to look at me. I sat back on his lap to look at him. “ I just wanted to be with you, but you’re here now and that’s all I care about.” I told him making sure he knew I just wanted him.

He smiled and placed a kiss on my lips causing a smile to grow on my face. “ that one’s because I’m sorry and these are because you turned 23.” He said before attacking my face with kisses causing me to laugh as he counted each kiss. He let out a quick oh reaching over the bed to retrieve the same black box he had shown me earlier passing it over to me. I shot him a questioning look taking the small box and opening it. My eyes started watering again and I let out a small gasp at the small necklace that rested inside. “ I chose this out a while back and I wanted something you could wear everyday.” He explained taking it out of my hands and moving my hair to the side, I moved on his lap so he could clip it on. “ thank you, I love it.” I told him as he placed a delicate kiss on my expose shoulder where my sweater started slipping off. “ I love you .” He mumbled wrapping his arms around my again pulling my into his chest. I exhaled in relief leaning back and taking comfort in his warmth knowing we’d be ok, I had fallen in love with the sweetest soul and as perfect as he was he was only human, he was bound to make mistakes.

—————

Part 2 guys !!!

I hope you enjoyed it. I almost made them break up but I just couldn’t bring myself to make Colby the bad guy 🥲

Let me know what you guys think !!!

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part11

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9 part10

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

very important note at the end - pls read it

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

Y/N and Lando walked back to her apartment in silence, the cool rain still falling lightly around them. Their hands were entwined, the contact grounding them as they made their way through the quiet streets. Every step felt like a promise, every glance a reassurance that they were finally on the same page, ready to confront the past that had haunted them for so long.

As they entered Y/N’s apartment, the familiar warmth of the space enveloped them. She flicked on the lights, casting a soft glow over the room, and dropped her keys on the counter. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had happened between them settling in the air.

Lando took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We should talk.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, we should.”

They moved to the couch, sitting down with a cautious distance between them, the tension from before replaced with a more vulnerable kind of anticipation. The kind that came from knowing that the next few minutes could either heal them or break them all over again.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted things to end the way they did. I was just… scared, Lando. Scared of how much you meant to me, scared of losing myself in you. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the pain of their breakup still fresh in his memory. “I get it, Y/N. I was scared too. But the way we both handled it… the things we said…”

His voice broke slightly, and Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We hurt each other so badly,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I treated you. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it just… destroyed us.”

Lando squeezed her hand, his own eyes glistening with tears. “You said dating me was a mistake, and it killed me, Y/N. I kept hearing those words over and over, wondering if you ever really loved me at all.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean it, Lando. I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting. But I never, ever believed that. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his own tears now falling freely. “It wasn’t just you, though. I said things too, things I can’t take back. I was so hurt by what you said, I wanted you to feel the same pain I was feeling. But all it did was tear us apart.”

Y/N leaned closer, her voice breaking with emotion. “I hated myself for letting you go, for saying those things. Every day, I missed you, Lando. But I was too proud, too scared to admit that I was wrong.”

Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I missed you too, more than I can even explain. But I was so angry at you, and at myself. I felt like I wasn’t enough for you, like I couldn’t make you happy.”

Y/N shook her head, more tears falling. “You were everything to me, Lando. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I let my fear control me, and I lost the most important person in my life because of it.”

Lando’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I felt the same way, Y/N. I lost myself in the anger, in the pain of losing you. I started acting out, trying to forget, but nothing worked. Nothing made me feel better.”

The air between them was heavy with all the unsaid words, all the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at Lando, seeing the hurt in his eyes, knowing she had put it there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything. I wish I could take it all back, Lando.”

Lando shook his head, pulling her closer. “We can’t change the past, but we can start over. We can try again, if you still want that.”

Y/N’s tears flowed freely as she nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I do, Lando. I want that more than anything. But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a soft, broken whisper. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together this time. No more running away, no more pushing each other away. Just us, facing whatever comes together.”

Y/N let out a sob, the weight of the past finally lifting from her shoulders. “I love you, Lando. I never stopped.”

Lando’s own tears fell as he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he would never let go. “I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere.”

They held each other for a long time, their tears mingling as they finally let go of the pain that had kept them apart for so long. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to start over.

Y/N and Lando sat on her couch, the heaviness of their earlier conversation giving way to a lighter, more playful atmosphere. The weight of their past had been lifted, leaving space for something new—something familiar, yet fresh.

Y/N curled up, tucking her legs under her as she sipped on the hot chocolate Lando had made. She glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So, tell me… how many dates did you go on while we were broken up?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Dates? Nah, I was just too busy being a ‘man of mystery’ or whatever the tabloids were calling me.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You know I kept tabs on you. You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

Lando grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, fine. I went on a few dates… but none of them ever felt right. I’d be sitting there, trying to make conversation, but all I could think about was how you would have rolled your eyes at the things they were saying.”

Y/N laughed, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, for the record, I didn’t date much either. I tried, but every guy just felt… off. They weren’t you.”

Lando’s smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So, we were both equally terrible at moving on, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted, laughing. “I even went out with this one guy who was super into cars, hoping it would make things easier. But all I could think about was how much you’d love to debate him on whether Ferrari or McLaren was better.”

Lando snorted, shaking his head. “That poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Nope, not at all. And every time I’d see a photo of you with some model, I’d convince myself that I was totally over you… but then I’d stalk your Instagram and see your stories, and I’d realize I was just lying to myself.”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I may have done some stalking myself. I’d see you posting about all the new things you were doing, and I’d try to convince myself that you were happier without me. But it only made me want to reach out more.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? We were both trying so hard to move on, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other.”

“Sad?” Lando repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think it’s kind of sweet. We’re both just hopeless when it comes to each other.”

“Yeah, hopeless,” Y/N agreed, her voice softening. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”

Lando’s expression grew tender as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you so much, Y/N. No one could ever compare to you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “I missed you too, Lando. Every single day.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, their fingers intertwined, both of them reveling in the warmth of their reunion.

Lando glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if we’d just swallowed our pride a little sooner, we could have avoided all those awful fucking dates.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. But then we wouldn’t have these funny stories to tell.”

“Fair point,” Lando conceded, grinning. “And, hey, at least we know now that no one else stands a chance.”

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “No one ever did, Lando. It was always you.”

Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And it was always you for me, too.”

As they sat there, cuddled up on the couch, the weight of the past fell away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the present. They were no longer two people trying to move on from each other—they were two people who had finally found their way back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------avaspeaks - hi lovelies! im so sorry for being gone for so long, exam prep threw me for a toss and i was so occupied and busy. but now im back for good and ready to update the blog. i felt so awful for not updating because i know the frustration when a series is just left unfinished. but worry not because your girl is back and ready to finish all the requests and series!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27

comment to get added to the taglist

[spncvr]

worries | s. reid

summary: you worry for spencer, it's human

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: TENDING WOUNDS TROPE HELLO, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, blood (in a metaphorical way ???) ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE PLS BEAR WITH ME, lowkey kinda sappy, reader kinda cries, like, alot, lmk if i missed anytihg !

a/n: tryying desperately to force myself out of my writers block so here's a WIP i forcedmyself to finish (its 1 am rn bye). send me requests??for??ideas?? i beg.

THE SMALL LIGHT BULB that dangles from the ceiling casts a soft glow on everything it touches. The light, never quite bright enough for your liking (you never got around to changing it) bathes the room in a gentle hue, softening the edges of the couch, carpet and shelves. That akin to the way it bleeds against his skin, with this kind of grace that seems to make scars on his face look kind and soft. 

“Hold still,” you chide, trying to clean the wound on his eyebrow; a harsh reminder of the day’s chaos. And when he does you mumble, “You’re such an idiot.”

His response is a small smile that sits against his lips, warm and understanding. His hands gently find their place on your thighs, grounding you as you straddle him “Yeah, I know,” he says.

“You shouldn’t’ve just … lunged at him like that.” It’s a plea wrapped in a scold. 

You duck your head down to avoid his careful eyes. You think, if he can’t see you, he can’t properly read you; a futile attempt, really. But still,  you think, if he can’t see the worry within your eyes he’d just let it go; that he wouldn’t know that you couldn’t help but think, what if, the unsub had gotten the upper hand, and what if it was much worse than just a measly cut on his eyebrow. These thoughts, the feelings, seem to constantly plague your mind in your darkest moments; ones that would make you feel like your heart is pouring out your chest, like rose thorns poking at your ribcage, that’ll bleed you dry with worry.

“What’s wrong?”His voice is soft, laced with concern, and it breaks through your defenses. The fingers that were on your thigh are now under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him, a silent entreaty for your honesty. His gaze is now on yours, stagnant and unwavering—and your lips start to quiver, and tears threaten to spill. Quickly, you hide your face into his shoulder.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your words are barely a whisper.

“Of what?” 

“I’m terrified for you.” your words are muffled in his shirt “What if—” you say, helpless, “What if it was more than just a cut on your eyebrow Spence, what if I— when—” you can’t finish your sentence. Not when he’s rubbing your back and kissing your head so softly and so kindly it makes the tears from your eyes spill and paint soft patches on his shirt. 

“You won’t,” he tells you with a conviction, that he wears so effortlessly like his own skin, “I won’t. I’m not leaving you.”

“You can’t say that,” you protest weakly, “you can’t know that. Look at Stephen he— God, Spence. You of all people know that you can’t possibly know that—”

“Hey, no,” he scolds quietly. 

But you're already looking at him, your face off from his shoulder. “Don’t tell me not to worry. Don’t tell me I can’t talk like that. You’re my boyfriend. It’s apart of caring. I should worry for you, so let me worry. It wouldn’t be human not to.”

“I know,” he says, soothingly, then, “I’m sorry.”

You wipe your tears frantically with your arm before continuing to tend his cut. “I wish the FBI had force fields around their agents.” you say, through a small smile, “Wish they could wrap you up with thick blankets.” It’s a childish thought.

His laughter is kind and genuine, it fills the space between the two of you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you nod with a smile that finds its way through your tears.

“You take such good care of me,” he says, eyes never leaving yours.

Maybe it was his words or the way it had slipped from his tongue; maybe it was how his fingers, rough and calloused,  had grazed against your delicate ones. But here, as he sits with a smile on his lips, (a lopsided lazy thing), all scarred and bruised, did you know that you love him. But love was a concept you had cared for and attended to. You loved your mother, your friends. You loved books and their characters. You loved the darkness, the night. You loved your job, and its challenges. You loved music and movies. You loved home, and it's all too familiar feeling against your skin. And suddenly this concept —love— seems too small, too narrow to encompass what you feel for him. There isn’t a word or phrase made —nor did you think there ever would be— to describe just how much you had felt for him.

But in short, you do love him, very much.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Breaking Point” Pt. 2 Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings?: angst, jealousy, NSFW, brat kink? Idk

Summary: After a tense argument at the circuit, Y/N leaves without telling Lewis, retreating to the hotel to gather her thoughts. But as she settles in, a late-night call from Lando stirs the pot even further, igniting Lewis’s jealousy when he returns.

WC: 3,000?

Part 1 is here

The hotel room is quiet, the silence heavy and almost suffocating. I pace the length of the room, my mind still racing from everything that happened at the circuit. I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to act like that, to throw Lando into our argument just because he didn’t want to face the real issue. It was so petty, so unlike him, and it hurt.

But then again, maybe I shouldn’t have left without telling him. I can already imagine his reaction when he finally realizes I’m gone. But honestly, after the way he brushed me off, I couldn’t stand to stay there any longer.

As I sink onto the bed, my phone buzzes, and I see Jude’s name flash on the screen. I take a deep breath before answering, bracing myself for his no-nonsense tone.

“Hey, Jude,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Y/N,” he replies, his voice clipped and businesslike. “Just wanted to confirm the details for your shoot in LA. You’ll be flying out on Tuesday morning, so clear your schedule for the next month. We’ll need you on set every day, so no personal distractions, alright?”

I swallow, the weight of his words settling over me. “Got it.”

“Good,” he continues, barely pausing for breath. “Now, I’ve sent over the call sheets, locations, and everything else you need to know. Check your email and let me know if you have questions. I don’t want any surprises on set.”

“Right,” I mumble, feeling a flicker of frustration. Jude has always been the type to micromanage every detail, and right now, his stern tone grates on my already frayed nerves.

After a few more instructions, he finally hangs up, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again. I set my phone down, trying to push away the nagging guilt creeping into my chest. I shouldn’t feel guilty, I remind myself. I have every right to take this role, to make decisions about my own career.

My phone lights up again. This time, it’s a text from Lewis.

Lewis: “You left?”

I stare at the message, my fingers hovering over the screen. I know he’s upset, but right now, I don’t feel like giving him the satisfaction of an immediate reply. Another text pops up.

Lewis: “So you just walked out without saying anything? Real mature, Y/N.”

I clench my jaw, feeling a spark of anger reignite. He was the one who acted like a child back there, throwing accusations and refusing to see my side of things. I toss my phone onto the bed, deciding not to reply. If he wants to act like this, then let him stew.

It’s nearly 11 p.m. when I hear the faint sound of the door opening, followed by Lewis’s footsteps as he enters the hotel room. I keep my gaze fixed on the window, refusing to turn around and acknowledge him. The tension in the room is immediate, thick and heavy, and I can feel his eyes on me, practically burning a hole in my back.

“Are you going to ignore me all night?” His voice is clipped, a sharp edge to his words that only fuels my annoyance.

“Maybe,” I reply coolly, still refusing to look at him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and I hear him drop his bag onto the floor with a thud. “So you just left? Without even bothering to tell me?”

I finally turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t think you’d care. You seemed pretty done with me back there.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N,” he says, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t just walk out without saying anything. Especially not when we’re in the middle of something.”

I raise an eyebrow, feeling the anger simmering beneath my skin. “Oh, so now you care about my whereabouts? Funny, because back there, you didn’t seem to care about anything but throwing Lando in my face.”

His jaw tightens, and I can see the flash of irritation in his eyes. “Don’t turn this around on me. You’re the one who just decided to take on a huge role without even talking to me about it.”

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of defiance rise up. “Lewis, it’s my career. I don’t need your permission to make decisions.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms as he stares me down. “It’s not about permission. It’s about respect. We’re supposed to be a team, Y/N. You could’ve at least let me know before deciding to miss four races.”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “We’re not married, Lewis! I don’t have to consult you about every little thing in my life!”

He flinches, and I see the hurt flash across his face before he covers it with a cold expression. “I see. So that’s how you see this? As something casual?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” I snap, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “It feels like this relationship is just… too much sometimes. Like you expect me to drop everything for you.”

He stares at me, his face hardening, and I can feel the anger radiating off him. “Too much? You think I’m asking for too much just because I want you to consider my feelings?”

I roll my eyes, a smirk tugging at my lips as I let out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re acting like I committed a crime just because I want to follow my dreams. Newsflash, Lewis, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

His eyes darken, and for a split second, I see something shift in him. Before I can react, he closes the distance between us, his hands gripping my arms firmly as he pushes me back onto the bed. I gasp, more out of surprise than anything, my heart racing as I look up at him as he gets on top of me.

His gaze is intense, a mixture of anger and something else, something I can’t quite place. His hands still grip my arms, his face close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You think this is a joke, Y/N?” he murmurs, his voice low, dangerous.

I meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Maybe… maybe you’re the one who can’t handle it.”

A flicker of something crosses his face—frustration, irritation, maybe even a hint of desire. He leans in closer, his grip on me tightening just slightly, his gaze locked onto mine. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between us thick and electric.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” I reply, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Maybe now you know how I feel.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the anger and frustration swirling between us, mixing with something deeper, something more primal. His gaze drops to my lips, and I feel my heart hammering in my chest, a rush of anticipation mingling with the resentment I still feel.

His hand moves from my arm to my neck, gently squeezing, his gaze intense and unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To push me until I snap?”

I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But my silence only seems to fuel him more, his face inches from mine.

“Say something,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

But instead of a response, I let out a soft laugh, daring him with my gaze. “What, can’t handle a little attitude?”

A dark smirk crosses his face, and for a brief moment, I see the flash of something almost… greedy in his eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Maybe I do,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

The tension between us is palpable, the line between anger and desire blurring, and I can feel the intensity radiating off him, his frustration and passion mingling into one. For a brief moment, we’re caught in a standoff, neither of us willing to back down, and I know that we’re both teetering on the edge, unsure of what will happen next.

He inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring, and for a moment, I think he might actually snap. But instead, he closes the distance between us, his lips crashing against mine in a bruising kiss. I gasp, surprised by the force of it, but I don't pull away. Instead, I find myself kissing him back just as fiercely, our teeth clashing, our tongues tangling in a desperate, angry dance.

His hands roam over my body, gripping, kneading, as if he's trying to remind himself I’m his. I can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the hard planes of his muscles flexing beneath my touch. He tears at my clothes, pulling my dress off, until I'm left in nothing but my underwear.

I reach for him, my hands fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him, to touch him, to have him inside me. He groans, low and guttural, as I grab him through his jeans. I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants me, and it only fuels my own desire.

He inhales sharply, his hips bucking into my touch. "Brat," he mutters, but there's no real anger behind it anymore, just a simmering heat, a desperate need.

I lean in, trailing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, my tongue darting out to taste his skin. He shivers, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against him. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and it makes me ache with want.

But then, the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the heated silence, startling both of us. I feel him tense against me, and he lets out an annoyed growl, pulling back slightly, his gaze narrowing as he looks down at me, his breathing ragged.

“Who the hell is calling you at this hour?” he mutters, his voice dripping with irritation.

I’m just as annoyed as he is, but before I can even reach for my phone, he snatches it up from the nightstand, his eyes flashing as he glances at the screen. His jaw clenches, and a dark look crosses his face as he turns the screen toward me, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Lando?” he says, his voice laced with accusation. “Why is he calling you? What the hell does he want?”

I blink, my mind struggling to catch up as I stare at the name flashing on the screen. “I… I don’t know,” I stammer, feeling my heart sink. I honestly have no idea why Lando would be calling me, but I can already feel Lewis’s jealousy simmering, his grip on my phone tightening.

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he glares down at me. “Really, Y/N? You’re telling me you have no idea why he’s calling you at eleven at night?”

I sit up, trying to take my phone from him, but he holds it just out of reach. “Lewis, come on. It’s probably nothing. Lando’s always trying to rally people to go out after a race. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats, his voice dangerously low. “Why does he even have your number, let alone feel comfortable enough to call you at this time? Do you have any idea how this looks?”

I feel a flash of frustration, the anger from earlier bubbling back up. “Are you seriously doing this right now? It’s Lando. He’s just a friend, Lewis.”

He scoffs, his grip on my phone unyielding as he stares down at me, his eyes hard. “A friend who clearly has no boundaries. Or maybe you’re the one who doesn’t.”

My mouth falls open in shock, and I feel a sting of hurt at his accusation. “Excuse me? You’re the one who’s being unreasonable here. I haven’t done anything to make you doubt me.”

“Then why didn’t you tell him to stop calling and texting you?” he snaps, his voice rising.

“Because it’s not an issue! You’re making it one,” I retort, the fire in my chest burning hotter as I meet his gaze. “If you’re so insecure about my friendship with Lando, that’s on you, not me.”

His eyes flash, and for a moment, I see a hint of vulnerability, quickly masked by anger. “Insecure? I’m not insecure, Y/N. I just don’t appreciate my girlfriend getting late-night calls from other guys, especially not ones who I’m pretty sure are interested in more than just ‘friendship.’”

I let out an exasperated sigh, trying to pull my phone from his grasp, but he holds it firm. “Lewis, it’s not like that. And if you trusted me, you’d know that.”

He stares at me, his gaze sharp, calculating.

Then, slowly, he holds the phone out, his expression unreadable. "Fine. Answer it, then. Let's see what he wants.

I glance between him and the phone, my heart pounding as I reluctantly take it from his hand. My fingers are shaking a bit, and I press the screen to answer, bringing it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

But before I can get another word out, I feel Lewis's hands on me again, his fingers gripping my waist as he leans down, his lips finding my neck. I gasp, my words faltering as he presses soft, heated kisses along the sensitive skin just below my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"YIN? You there?" Lando's voice crackles through the phone, cheerful and oblivious. I can barely concentrate, Lewis's lips warm against my skin, his hands trailing up and down my sides, pulling me closer.

"Uh... yeah, I'm here," I manage to say, my voice coming out breathy, almost shaky.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to see if you were up for going out tonight," Lando replies, his tone light. "A bunch of us are heading to a bar nearby.

Figured I'd check if you wanted to join."

Lewis's mouth trails down my neck, his lips grazing my collarbone, and I struggle to keep my composure, biting my lip to stifle a soft gasp. He's doing this on purpose, I realize, trying to keep me distracted, knowing full well what he's doing to me.

"Um... I don't think I can make it," I finally say, my voice wavering slightly as Lewis continues his assault on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make my pulse race. "I... I think l'Il be staying in tonight."

"Oh, alright," Lando says, sounding a little disappointed. "Well, if you change your mind, just text me. We'll be out pretty late.”

I try to mumble a response, but Lewis presses his lips to a particularly sensitive spot on my neck, and I feel a shiver run through me, my fingers gripping his shoulders as I struggle to keep my balance.

"Yeah... okay," I manage, barely aware of what I'm saying.

I hear Lando say goodbye, and I quickly end the call, dropping the phone onto the bed as Lewis's hands tighten around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His gaze is intense, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, something possessive.

"Staying in tonight, huh?" he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers trace slow, teasing circles on my hips.

I let out a shaky breath, meeting his gaze with defiance. "What was that about?" I demand, though my voice betrays me, coming out softer than I intended.

He raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he pulls me even closer, his face mere inches from mine. "Just making sure you're focused on the right person," he murmurs, his voice low, sending a thrill down my spine.

I roll my eyes, though I can't hide the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," he replies, his tone playful but with an edge of intensity. "But I don't like sharing."

And then he's on me again, his mouth trailing down my neck, his teeth nipping, his tongue soothing the sting. I arch into him, my nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. He hisses, the pain seeming to spur him on, his hands sliding beneath my thighs, pushing them apart, spreading me wide for him.

I can feel the heat of his gaze on my most intimate parts, and I squirm beneath him, suddenly self-conscious. I feel his hand slide under my thong, onto me. His fingers are there, stroking, teasing, and all thoughts of embarrassment fly out the window. He circles my clit with his thumb, his fingers dipping inside me, stretching me, filling me, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmurs, his voice rough with arousal.

I nod, wordless, lost in the sensation of his touch, the way he's making me feel. I love being touched like this, with such hunger, such desperation, and it's intoxicating. I want more, I want everything he has to give me.

I moan, my head falling back against the pillow as he works me expertly, his touch rough and demanding. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N?" he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of me. "To be fucked like the brat you are?"

I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response, but my body betrays me, my hips lifting to meet his hand, my walls clenching around his fingers. “Yes… please.” I whine.

His fingers slow their relentless pace, and I let out a frustrated moan. "Ah ah ah," he tuts, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What was that, Y/N? I couldn't quite hear you over all that begging."

I flush, embarrassed and turned on in equal measure. "Please," I say again, louder this time, my voice cracking with need. "Please fuck me, Lewis. I want it… don’t tease me." I whine.

He rewards me with a particularly deep thrust, his fingers curling inside me and making me cry out. "Good girl," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Such a good little brat for me. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll give this bratty girl exactly what she’s begging for." He says lowly, promising something more intense after this.

He continues to work me over with his fingers, his thumb circling my clit in maddeningly slow strokes. My body is wound tight, teetering on the edge of release, but he keeps me there, denying me the satisfaction I crave.

"Lewis, please," I whine, tugging at his hair, my nails digging into his scalp. "I can't…Please let me…." I beg for permission.

He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he growls, "Cum for me, Y/N. Cum all over my fingers like the desperate little baby you are."

And with those filthy words, I shatter as I orgasm.

———————————————————

Note: part three is up! HERE

Hope you guys are liking it! If you are please like and follow so I can know to write more!

I’m new to writing stuff like this so 😅 sorry if it’s not perfect!

[st4rgzer]

now playing…SO LONG, LONDON (spencer reid)

summary: spencer realizes how much damage he had been causing you.

genre: angst with fluffy ending

cw!: idk relationship problems?😭 also use of y/n and y/l/n (your last name)

a/n: so since y’all wanted a happy ending version! here it is, it isn’t quite like the song but yeah, you guys get the point. masterlist

tension protruded eagerly from the silent room. it was dim, you had left some candles lit but that was it. your cheeks were wet and hot. but somehow you still felt an adamant numbing sensation of coldness. your weary bones hugged your knees, sniffles breaking through the silence.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on” you muttered through your broken voice.

“what?” he lifted his head from in between his legs where he had his hands pressed to the back of his neck.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on to you? were you just going to let me destroy myself, give everything i had just for you to crack a smile?” you spoke loudly now, sharp words that stung as spencer heard every one of them.

he didn’t respond. instead, he just listened. he knew the last thing you wanted from him right now was for him tp talk back, so he let you talk.

“fuck, even my friends said it was not right to be scared! not of you, but of how quickly your temperament can change from one moment to another. every breath that i take feels like im stealing it from you, like- like when i do finally get to do so, its short and doesn’t last long until i have to hold my breath again.”

“do you resent me, spencer? is that what this is? you left the BAU after you got back from prison, and i thought it was to settle down, make me your wife. but you never wanted this, did you?” spencers head perked up. his demeaner changed. he went from attentive and remorseful to stern.

“do not say that. “ he pointed a finger at you “y/n y/l/n don’t you, for a second, think i regret any minute i’ve ever spent with you, i regret a lot of things in my life but meeting you, loving you? i’ve never thought twice about that. you are my number one priority in this life, and im sorry i couldn’t give you everything you wanted, at least not right now. but i promise, i swear on my life, if that even means anything, that i’m going to get better. and i know actions speak more than words, but please, please hold on. i’m not going to insist you stay here with me, but just promise you’ll come back when you’re ready? i love you, y/n, and i hate myself for even thinking that i hurt you.” his tone was indulgent, pleading almost. he had stood up and waved his hands frantically as he punctuated each word, meaning every one. his frazzled hair and big brown eyes kept you at bay.

for a few minutes there was silence as you quietly digested his words.

“do you mean that?” you whispered, fragile, as you looked up at him.

he nodded his head, looking away and blinking a few times. trying to hold in the tears that painfully pricked his waterline.

you sighed, attempting to weigh the pro’s and con’s of the situation, but you loved him. a mental list of the good and the bad wasn’t going to decide the fate of your life. in every relationship there’s hell in heaven, eventually, happiness comes back. all you knew was that this man encapsulated your whole being with nothing more than love and affection, so you knew that this was nothing but a small dent in the glass case that encased the rose that was your love.

you opened your arms, he hesitantly got down to your level. you held him tightly, as if the weight of the wind was to carry him away at any moment. he buried his head in qthe crook of your neck, sniffling as he let out soft sobs, and whispers of apologies.

eventually, the tears ceased. and you both laid there, enveloped. consumed by each other, hands caught in spencers hair from raking through it, as sleep caught onto you. spencer kissed the bridge of your nose gently.

“i love you”

“i love you too”

a/n: guys idk how to feel about this one, this might have been my least favorite so far😭

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @bunnylov-3-r @bellasprettywords

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