#she had a right to be mad but took it WAY too far
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mynameisjag · 1 day ago
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More stress, more stress drabbles.
Follows right after the last one.
Hope, everyone is doing alright.
Later in the day would find Storm and her friend in the kitchen, much more rested and idly chatting to each other.
Logan had a sling across his chest, tiny little hands peeked out, grabbing at his shirt as the man himself hummed a low tune as he fixed a bottle. Scooping some calcium powder into the milk and ignoring the stares he was getting from the group staring at him from across the room.
Storm herself was sipping some lovely tea and getting amusement at her friends watching in disbelief as the Wolverine prepared a bottle like it was an old routine to him.
Finally having enough of just standing around and getting no answers, Rogue casually strolled over and leaned on the counter next to him, looked over at the open tote bag sitting on the counter, diapers, clothes, wipes, a few more bottles peaked out, she hummed before turning her full attention to the man, “Whatcha got there?”
“Calcium powder.”
“Lo, darlin’, you know that is not what I meant.”
He huffed, eyes rolling as he started to feed the bottle to his tiny passenger, “This is Laura, my kit…my baby.”
Silence.
He turned to glare at the group that had formed in the kitchen, eyebrow raised, “What?”
Scott took a step forward, “Where did she come from?”
“From me.”
“Where’s the other parent?”
“Just me, she’s 100% mine.”
“…did you suddenly gain the ability of mitosis?”
“…what?”
“It’s a real concern, look at our life and tell me it’s not.”
“No, Scott, I do not have the power of mitosis…that I am aware of,” Logan glanced down at the baby in his arms, her little face scrunched up as she ate, tiny angry rumble coming from her like a kitten as though she was mad that she couldn’t drink it all in one go, “easy, sweetheart, it’s all yours.”
He looked back at the group, “If you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do,” with that he grabbed his tote and marched off, getting a little farewell wave from Storm on his way out.
Everyone watched the door shut behind him, giving it a few seconds before unleashing chaos in a rapid fever of questions.
“Okay, so did he disappear to have her like a cat-“
“Whose the other parent?! Fess up!”
“We've all seen his bare ass enough times to know he himself physically didn’t have her-
“Unless-“ “No.”
Storm just hummed into her tea, satisfied with the knowledge she had been the first and so far the only one of the X-men to hold their newest member. The others could bicker and theorize all they wanted to about her origins, what mattered most was that the littlest Wolverine was home now.
Also that she had bragging rights, that was important too and that brought a smile to her face.
Her smile grew as she took in the conversation go on around her.
“If you would let me explain the theoretical concepts on how he could have had her on his own-“
“Hank, no, your fanfiction tabs are not “theoretical concept research”.”
“Well, your wife is the one who introduced me to the art, lets ask her.”
“…Scott…”
“Jean, no.”
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laurrelise · 4 months ago
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beautiful gorgeous stunning women of the umbrella academy save me SAVE ME
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kaiser1ns · 4 months ago
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#. KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE
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featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, togame jo, takiishi chika, endo yamato
fluff. since when did you dream of a first kiss with the boy you like. and the chance finally came, but not everything turned out as imagined.
up to 500-600 words per scenario, i tried my best, sorry i'm still trying to describe romantic scenes womp womp, like and subscribe!
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UMEMIYA HAJIME
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You are so in love with this man that you can't get enough. Literally, you can't get enough of the way he is so oblivious to the hints you drop every single day. He is laughing yet again at something, surrounded by Furin first years and Hiragi at Kotoha's cafe. The desire to smack him on the head and tell him he is so stupid grows faster than the vegetables in his garden. Only Kotoha seems to notice your gloomy mood — you haven't touched the food she prepared, and it makes her worry.
"I'm going to give up if he doesn't do something soon," you tell your best friend, your voice tinged with frustration.
She pats your hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. Don't mind Hajime's antics. Boys take time to develop, you know."
You thank her and finish your food, but you still want to go home. Being in his presence feels draining right now. You quietly say goodbye to Kotoha and immediately leave, while she wonders what she can do to help you out.
You aren't far away when you hear running footsteps behind you and the voice you knew all too well. "Y/N, wait for me, please!" It's Umemiya, running worriedly towards you. You turn to face him as he pants from the exertion. "Kotoha said you wanted to talk about something with me. Is that why you left?"
Oh my, this girl. How dare she does this to you? You didn't want to tell him, you were supposed to be mad at him. "It seems that I have forgotten what I was going to say," you murmur, turning on your heel to walk away again. But he hugs you from behind, his grip strong and tight, your back against his chest.
"You wanted to have your first kiss, right?" There it goes, your best friend spilled everything to her brother. "I've noticed everything you did to indicate your wants and needs. I was just waiting for the right moment, when we aren't with people, like this ..."
He lets you go, turning you around and kissing you. His eyes are closed, but yours widen in surprise. The feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your back makes you relax. You're a blushing mess, a whirlwind of butterflies and emotions coursing through you. Hands find their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat race as fast as yours.
When he finally pulls away, his eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness you've longed to see. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere. You smile, your heart swelling with the butterflies going there instead. "You better make it up for all the waiting."
He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I am a bit dense, huh?" You laugh, the sound light and genuine, laying your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat once again as he hugged you "Just a bit."
As he walks you to your home, hand in hand, you can't help but think about Kotoha and how she played Cupid, knowing exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.
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SAKURA HARUKA
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You’ve heard it all before, the endless litany of self-deprecation and doubt that spills from Sakurs’s lips like a broken record. It’s a familiar routine by now, his recounting of how he doesn’t deserve kindness or acceptance, how your sweetness to him feels misplaced. His voice wavers with each confession, half-hoping you’ll agree and half-fearing you’ll walk away.
“I don’t get why you’re so nice to me,” he says for the umpteenth time, eyes downcast. “I don’t deserve it.” Your eye twitches. You’ve had enough. The words repeat in your head, grating on your nerves. You care about him deeply, but his lack of self-worth is starting to drive you insane. He’s strong, capable, a fighter in every sense of the word—except when it comes to himself.
“Oh my god, Sakura, stop with this bullshit,” you snap, sharper than you intended. He blinks, taken aback. “Hah!?”
“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s so frustrating. ‘I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve that.’” You mimic his tone, letting your irritation seep through. His eyes narrow, anger mixing with confusion. "Huh!?" He clenches his fists, the familiar motion of cracking his knuckles following. It’s a gesture meant to intimidate, but you’ve seen it too many times to be scared. “Shut up before I make you,” you threaten.
He meets your gaze gaze, unflinching. “Make me then. Let your fists do the talking.”
That’s it. The breaking point. You stand up abruptly, closing the distance between you. He braces himself, expecting a fight. You can see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his instinct to fight and his deep-seated fear of hurting you. Instead, you grab his face with both hands and pull him into a kiss. It’s sudden, forceful, and completely unexpected. His body tenses up, then melts against you, stunned into silence.
When you pull back, his face is a shade of red you didn’t think was possible to achieve. He’s a mess of incoherent sounds, his mind clearly struggling to process what just happened. “W-what… Huh!?”
“You shouldn’t talk so much crap,” you say calmly, sitting back down. “It’ll lead you to problems.”
He stands there, dazed and silent, a stark contrast to his usual self. You relish the quiet, the absence of his self-doubt hanging in the air. Finally, a moment of peace. Sakura haven't said a word all day, lost in his thoughts. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, hoping that your impulsive act has left an impression, that maybe he’ll start to see himself the way you see him.
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SUO HAYATO
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The boy himself, the living legend of making people accept his requests with his teasing smile, is sitting next to you. His beautiful dark brown eyes make you melt like chocolate left out in the hot sun. Suo Hayato, the enigma from the neighboring school, is here in your living room, surrounded by your scattered chemistry notes. You begged him for help with your homework, and in his usual style, he agreed with a condition. You, expecting another teacake request, readily agreed.
The two of you sit on the floor, papers spread out across the table. Hayato explains the properties of alkaline metals and their reactions. His hand occasionally brushes against yours, sending a jolt through your system each time. He notices your reactions, the subtle glances you steal, the way you tense and relax. He is enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“And that’s all. I’m sure you’ll ace the test, L/N-san,” he concludes with a smile.
A few days later, you find yourself beaming as you show him your test. Maximum points. You’re the only student with a perfect score, and Hayato knows it. His smile widens, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.
“I knew you’d do it. But don’t you forget something?” he prompts.
Ah, yes, his reward. “No, I didn’t forget, Suo-kun.” You reach into your bag and pull out a box of homemade teacakes. “Here, just the way you like them.” He takes the box, smiling with one eye closed, the other hidden beneath his signature eyepatch. “Oh, thank you very much. So kind as always.” he pauses “But I wanted something sweeter.”
Confused, you stand there trying to figure out what he means. Wasn’t he on a diet? Perhaps you should brew him some tea. He chuckles, observing you and most possibly reading your thoughts.
“Don’t worry, I don’t want freshly brewed tea.” His voice is soft, but there's an edge to it. How does he always know what you’re thinking? Does he know you wanted to kiss him while you studied? His perceptiveness is both thrilling and intimidating.
“So what do you want?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat. “You.”
Before you can process his words, his lips are on yours, warm and insistent. Your bag slips from your shoulder, landing with a soft thud. The kiss is everything you imagined and more, a perfect blend of surprise and inevitability. You feel the chemistry, the undeniable connection between element Suo and element Y/N, strong and unbreakable.
You pull away, still in shock, as he steps back. His hands are behind his back, holding the box of teacakes, but his eyes are fixed on you. He turns to leave, but glances back over his shoulder.
“I’ll be waiting for more chemistry tests to help you out,” he says, a promise in his voice. And you know, without a doubt, that his request will always be met.
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KAJI REN
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You had always admired the way Kaji Ren seemed to be in his own world, headphones clamped over his ears and a strawberry lollipop lazily balanced between his lips. He was lost in thought, probably wondering about you, always worried—if you needed help, how your day went, if there was someone he needed to deal with for you. His obliviousness gave you the perfect opportunity. You appeared in front of him and, snatching the lollipop from his mouth, putting it in your own.
"What the—" His initial reaction was irritation, a typical Kaji Ren tantrum brewing, until he saw you standing there, and that devilish look in your eyes. You were still in your school uniform, like you always are when he waits to walk you home.
"Oh, strawberry one. My favorite." You teased, a smile tugging at your lips. He scoffed, too tired to engage in your banter, as started walking behind you, when you suddenly stopped. Before he could react, you snatched his headphones and dashed off.
You were fast, but Kaji was faster. In a heartbeat, he caught up, slamming you gently against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in. You looked up at him, a devilish grin on your face.
"Now, what, Ren?" you taunted, breathless.
For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to figure out his next move. Then, in a move that surprised both of you, he grabbed the lollipop from your mouth and tossed it on the ground. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger and urgency that sent the butterflies right into your stomach. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, tasting the sweet strawberry flavor that lingered on your lips.
You kissed back with equal hunger, your hands tangling in his hair. Time seemed to stand still as you both poured everything into that kiss. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, as you stared at the blonde boy.
"Do you want to try an apple flavor next time?" you asked, a teasing once again.
"Shut up," he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He snatched his headphones back and started walking again, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. You ran up to him and slipped your hand into his. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, he squeezed your hand tightly.
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TOGAME JO
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You never go into Shishitoren territory without Togame. He’s your personal bodyguard, a very fine one at that, and he insists on accompanying you every time. Texting him is a lost cause—he never responds. At least, that’s what he wants you to believe, even though your texts are the only ones he ever reads. So, you always call to tell him you are under the bridge, waiting for him.
Tonight, the two of you are wandering down a bustling street, searching for a pub to settle in. The crowd is big at this time of the night, and Togame keeps his hand firmly on your waist, ensuring you stay close. Despite him wanting to keep you close and safe, you are always slipping away, and it drives him crazy.
You meander through, your curiosity piqued by a very interesting shop window. Something inside catches your eye, and you pause to admire it. Meanwhile, he is frantic, scanning the crowd for any sign of you. When he finally spots you, relief floods his body, quickly replaced by an angry expression. The Shishitoren vice-capitain makes a note to buy the item for you tomorrow, but now is not the time. He strides over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards a quieter, more secluded area.
“What if something happened to you? Do you know how much I’d regret that?” His usual slow, measured speech is now rapid and laced with frustration.
You look down, guilt washing over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
He sighs heavily, his expression softening as he sees your sad face. Gently, he tilts your chin up, his fingers brushing away the few tears that have escaped. “Don’t cry now, pretty girl.”
Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. You hadn’t expected your first kiss to happen like this, in a quiet, dimly lit alley, but it’s with Togame Jo, and that’s all that matters.
His hands cradle your face, thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You close your eyes, relaxing in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. It is soft, tender, and unhurried. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the two of you in this moment. His lips are warm, and he takes his time, savoring the feel of you, as butterflies made their way to your stomach. When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, faces mere inches apart.
He presses his forehead against yours, a small smile playing making its way, reassuring you that everything was fine, “Just... don’t do that again, okay?”
You nod, still dazed from the kiss. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you back to the crowded street, but this time, his grip is gentler, more safe. The bustling city seems a little less overwhelming with him by your side, and you can’t help but smile, stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering with every step. Togame catches your eye and squeezes your hand, his own smile growing wider.
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TAKIISHI CHIKA
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He showed up at your house, knocking on the window as you sighed, getting up from your bed. You, of course, let him in, seeing how he was again stained with blood that was not his. It was the same every time: he came to you so you could patch him up, fix him, give him a shower, change of clothes and a place to sleep in. You never ask questions, and he never offers explanations. Tonight is no different as you sit in his lap, bandaging his face and hands.
You're not a couple; you're not anything. It’s complicated. There are unspoken words between you, a delicate balance that neither of you dares to disrupt. As you sit on his lap and clean his face, you find yourself closer than before. His yellow eyes, intense and piercing, lock onto yours, heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. You’re getting closer, inch by inch. Hesitation grips you, your breath caught in your throat.
"Don't move." Just as you think of pulling away, his hand moves behind your head, gently but firmly pushing you forward. Your lips meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s surprising, the gentleness of it, especially coming from someone as fiery and unpredictable as Chika. The kiss is brief, a fleeting moment that feels that for once you were something. When it ends, you pull back slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of what this meant to him. But his expression is the same as every day. And then you are back to becoming nothing.
For you, it meant everything. It’s a confirmation of the connection you’ve always felt but never acknowledged. But what did it mean for him? You're not sure, and you don't dare to ask. Not now. Maybe not ever. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can think about this later. Right now, he still needs you. You focus on his injuries, cleaning and bandaging.
Chika watches you work, his eyes never leaving your face. You can feel the weight of his gaze, and it only makes you more aware of your own feelings. But you don’t let it distract you. You finish bandaging his hands and move to check for any other injuries, your fingers brushing against his skin, meanwhile, he gently caresses your thighs with his thumbs leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
When you’re done, you lean back, surveying your work. He looks a bit better now, though still battered and bruised. You meet his eyes again, and this time there’s something different there. Something softer, more vulnerable — a golden hue reflects the dim light, adding a warm, almost ethereal quality to the sun.
“There all done,” you say quietly, unable to trust your voice to say more. You stand up, as you don't want to leave his embrace but you have to clean up the supplies scattered around and prepare a bath. As you move around the room to get him new clothes you can feel his eyes on you, following your every move. You wonder if he’s thinking about the kiss, about what it meant. You wonder if he feels the same confusion, the same longing, the same love.
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ENDO YAMATO
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The wind lifting strands of his dark hair and whipping them around his face. He’s talking about something, his tattooed hands tracing patterns in the air. But you’re not listening. You’re caught up in the way his lips move, the curve of his smile, the glimmering in his eyes.
"...and Takiishi was there, you know? Doing that thing he always does," Endo continues, oblivious to your silent longing. Takiishi Chika. Again. You frown, a little annoyed now. Why does he always have to bring up Chika?
"Endo," you say, softly at first, hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t notice.
"Takiishi’s just so unpredictable. I never know what he’s going to do next."
"Endo," you repeat, louder this time. Still, he’s lost in his own world, his words tumbling out like the wind itself, unstoppable and carefree.
"And then, Takiishi—"
"Endo!" You say it sharply, frustration bubbling up inside you. He finally pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, before he can say anything, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him down to your height. His eyes widen in shock, but you don’t give him time to react. You press your lips to his, silencing him in the most effective way you know.
Feeling his lips against yours, the taste of his breath mingling with your own. It’s not perfect. It’s rushed and a little clumsy, your noses bump awkwardly, and you can feel him tense. But it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s better than any dream.
When you finally pull away, he’s staring at you, confusing and amusing gaze. His hands, still raised from his gesticulations, hover in the air, uncertain.
"Ah," he says, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not good at judging people, am I?" You laugh, knowing how he chooses people and how his expectations are later contradicted, that right now is happening with you, "No," you agree, your voice soft. "You’re really not."
He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I guess I was talking too much."
"A little," you admit, your heart still racing. "But it’s okay."
He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours, indicating his motives. "Can I try again?" he asks, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Please."
This time, when he kisses you, it’s slower, more deliberate. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as you live your dream.
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
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lucimaaie · 2 months ago
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big deal ✧.* tlou
pairing - Ellie Williams x fem!reader, ellie williams x miller!reader
summary - you and ellie fight over your jealousness.
warning - short, not proofread bc what is that, lil angst to fluff, possibly occ ellie idk
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jealousy was something ellie knew all to well. though she wasn’t exactly ready to deal with it in you. she didn’t entertain any other girl (not on purpose) and left you very mushy (to be kept private for that very reason, notes when she was gone with joel and tommy. and yet, you were jealous.
“i’m serious. i don’t see how she was flirting,” ellie walked along side you, ahead of joel and tommy who had been tuning in and out of the argument.
“really? she did the arm squeeze, el. i did that before we got together, remember?” you walked at a pace faster than anyone else, the embarrassment of having to explain your thought process making you want to run away just for a moment. yes, you were jealous of some girl you barely knew and yes you were having this conversation in front of your dad and uncle. it wasn’t something to be particularly proud of
“the arm squeeze?” ellie looked at you incredulously as she walked to keep up with you. “the arm squeeze.” she repeated.
“yes!” you stressed.
“the fuck is that?”
“it’s basic psychology, ellie. the arm squeeze means she likes you. did you not know that when i—“
“does it matter? i like you, not her.”
“i know that.”
“then i don’t get why this is such a big deal, i’m dating you!” though her words rang true something in them didn’t agree with you. maybe it was the just the heat getting to you and not envy. maybe, but it didn’t matter the reason because your feet took you elsewhere as soon as you got to an old abandoned outlet.
you walked around the open space, kicking rocks of debris around as you looked at the broken in and looted stores. some caught your interest and you ventured into them despite joel’s warning to not go too far. you hadn’t even noticed ellie creeping behind you as you flipped through old ripped magazines. “ellie!” you screamed, covering your mouth.
she looked equally as shocked as you as you waited for sounds of clickers, runners, or any monster in the shadows. when the coast was clear, ellie smiled sheepishly and leaned against the counter you sat on. “so..jealous.” she tapped the counter, looking up at you.
“i..don’t want to talk about it, el. you’re right. it doesn’t matter.” you flipped through the magazine as opposed to looking at her. the image of carefree teens looking back at you made you frown. ellie grabbed the paper from your hand and set it on the counter.
“you did an hour ago.” she said with seriousness this time.
“that was an hour ago. it’s not a big deal, like you said.”
ellie shut her eyes as you threw her words back at her. she knew deserved it to some capacity. “it’s not nothing. okay, maybe she was flirting, but i didn’t flirt back, i swear.”
“you don’t have to—“
“yes, i do because you’ll just keep talking about it until i get you to believe me.” she sat down next to you on the counter, her hand coming down over yours. her eyes flicked from your hands to your face.
“i believe you, el.”
“so, then why’re you still mad at me?”
“i’m not. not really. i mean, i was. it’s stupid. i don’t get jealous about anything but—“
“me?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. you could tell the way she held back a smile, even if the mood was serious.
“no, cupcakes. yes you!”
“alright, alright. i’m just clarifying.” she held up her hands in peace. “you only get jealous about me? actually?”
“yeah. and it does not feel good being the jealous girlfriend. at all. i just started an argument with you over an arm squeeze.”
“you did.” she laughed lightly as she knocked her shoulder into yours.
“my theory is still valid.”
“bullshit. i smell bullshit.” she sung. “i get jealous when it comes to you too. i just..don’t say anything.”
“and i turn it into an argument.”
“both equally as shitty.”
“not a competition.”
“like hell it is.”
the light of flashlight flicked on and off and your direction. the sight made you and ellie squint your eyes before you recognized it was joel’s signal in a place like this. “c’mon. gotta get back before the oldies get grumpy.” ellie hopped off the counter and reached for your hand. you did the same and intertwined your fingers with hers.
“e?” you said as you two walked out of the store and into the empty space. she hummed. “if..when you get jealous. could you tell me?”
she looked at from the ground to you. she seemed to consider it for a moment before gnawing on her lip. “you’d get annoyed with me.”
“did i not just piss you off fighting with you?”
“eh.”
“i’m saying annoy me, piss me off back. i’m your girlfriend, i can handle that.” you shrugged as you spoke the words despite your feelings underneath the facade. the whole girlfriend thing was new to the both of you, who known each other for years at this point. you knew the most about each other than anyone else. neither one of you want to be the one to mess it up.
“i’ll hold you to that.” ellie said quietly. your words seemed to give her an unexpected confidence boost enough to pull you closer to her and press a gentle kiss onto your lips. her own were but a bit cracked but that didn't matter as her came to cup your face. she pulled back, eyes soft with affection and hint of anxiety for your reaction. this wasn't your first time kissing each other, she didn't know why she was desperate for- "mph!" she hummed against your lips as you kissed her again. this time still sweet, but not so gentle.
“are yall kissing?” tommy yelled.
you and ellie quickly dispersed, pretending to be enamored with the broken displays of the stores. it wasn't surprising that neither Tommy or Joel bought it. Joel simply waved you two over, glaring as you walked ahead of him, hand-in hand. the air of awkwardness barely lasted a minute before you and ellie burst out laughing, only to be shushed by a grumbling, mildly mortified Joel. "to be continued." Ellie mumbled into your ear.
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thank you for reading!
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celesteleoves · 4 months ago
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Request for Izuku coming to the readers dorm because he needed them to patch him up because training was tough and he decided to not go to recovery girl for some reason(basically just a patching up fic w izuku😭)
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“NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN, I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HER.”
ೃ࿐ izuku midoriya x reader.
summary: what the ask says :)
disclaimers: established realtionship, izuku is silly…. mentions of bones being broken/other injuries, that’s all i believe! reader is kinda suggested to be female…
a/n: AWWW this might be my favourite ask yet! thank u 🤍 i hope i wrote this exactly to your liking.
—-
izuku hated relying on others. he never liked being a bother, even to those who insist he can always go to them if he ever needs anything). it’s one of his flaws, he thinks.
carrying the weight of one for all on his shoulders constantly was a reminder just how much he needed to learn how to be more independent. the broken bones, harsh sparring with his classmates, recovery girl visits. he really needs to learn how to patch himself up…
currently, he sat in his own dorm. groaning to himself as he moved slightly, muscles incredibly sore. the boy slowly lifted his shirt up, revealing the bruises and small cuts he received after training for hours. as he lifted his hands up to brush his hair back, he got an idea. a very smart one!
“she wouldn’t be too mad, right?” izuku mumbled to himself as he sluggishly stood up, making his way to your dorm.
the walk was long and treacherous (it’s a minute walk). as izuku finally stood in front of your dorm, he thought about your reaction. you are a very caring person. you’ll definitely be easygoing about this!
-
“are you kidding me izuku?!” your jaw dropped at the sight of your disheveled boyfriend who only smiled sheepishly. you immediately turned into scolding y/n mode, rambling on and on about how he should take it easy.
“i knew you’d be a bit mad… i’m sorry.”
your boyfriends words made you falter in your speech as you took in the weight of the situation. he had simply gone too far in training.
instead of going to someone else, he came to you? the thought made you frown in a caring matter. you looked at him closely. his eyes glistened, looking like he’s more hurt about your reaction instead from his own wounds. his white shirt had splotches of grass and dirt on it. you couldn’t help but feel responsible for your lover in this moment. you knew he only worked hard to be stronger for you and himself.
“come in, no- don’t lay on that. your shirt is covered with dirt. take it off!” you spoke to him in a exaggerated tone.
izuku froze in his movements, thinking about what you just said to him. he’s not in middle school anymore, why is he getting flustered right now?! izuku curses teenage hormones for existing.
rather too quickly for his liking: izuku’s face flushed and he nervously toyed with his shirt, “take it off?!”
“yes. babe.” you looked at him with a puzzled expression, holding a small first aid kit in your hand (you made it for izuku at the very start of the school year after learning that he often injures himself). “i need to see where your hurt.”
“oh… right!”
it took him a minute to compose himself, his shyness taking over as he carefully took off his shirt. the act made you almost want to laugh as you’ve seen him without a shirt on multiple occasions.
your giggly mood was completely knocked away when you took in the sight of a rather red slash on his lower abdomen.
you moved towards your boyfriend who sat against your bed frame, legs spread as if anticipating you to settle yourself in between them. that’s exactly what you did.
“whoa, what the hell happened here?”
“landed on a piece of rock while jumping… scratched myself. i already did hydrotherapy like you said, i didn’t have the materials to do anything else though.”
you hummed at his words, picking up a antibiotic and placing it on izukus wound with your right hand. he hissed at the sting and you rubbed his side with your left hand in an attempt to comfort him. it worked. izuku relaxed at the feeling of your touch on his skin.
the room was quiet, lights slightly dim, as you worked. placing gauze and then bandage around his abdomen, wrapping it twice for good measure.
you looked up, softly grabbing your boyfriends face and turning it left to right.
izuku stared at you with his bright green eyes and you blushed under his stare. you felt him toy with the bottom of your top, fiddling with the material.
“stop distracting me, i’m trying to check for cuts.”
“sorry! you’re just so pretty… and a really good doctor.”
you let a grin and cackle slip at his words. he laughed at your reaction, watching you carefully as you stood up. you moved towards your wardrobe and opened a drawer. izuku tilted his head in wonder, what were you doing?
you pulled out a shirt and a pair of pj pants. izuku intrigued at the items. those were both his, when had he put them in your drawer?
“oh, you left them after you slept here. i just figured i should give your stuff its own drawer.”
izuku hadn’t realized he spoke out loud and he only stared at you in silent shock. you were too good for him.
you tossed the clothes towards him as he rested against your pillows, staring at you in adoration.
“what?” you plopped down beside him, nudging his bicep as he looked down at you.
“you’re too good for me. thank you.”
you lit up at his loving words. if there was one thing izuku was perfect at, it was making you feel loved unconditionally no matter what.
“oh stop, you’re too good for me.”
“we could argue about this for hours, just accept it.”
“um no! everyone knows you’re too good for me.”
“i’ll start rambling about you if you don’t stop.”
“… and who says i wouldn’t like that?”
izuku paused, a grin slowly creeping up on his face at your serious expression.
you cracked, turning into a laughing fit and he laughed with you, holding you in his arms. the pain that he felt in his muscles not too long ago had seemingly faded away as soon as he held you in his embrace. your warmth and love felt as though it healed him.
izuku hated relying on others. but, he knows no matter what — you’ll always make sure he knows he can rely on you for anything.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months ago
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better off alone || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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the team finds out that your foster parents left.
you were dead meat. jona wasn't there to vouch for you anymore. this season was sure to be your last. barcelona was on the verge of being done with you, and you weren't ready to go somewhere else and start over. having someone there to take care of you in a new city would be easier than your current situation, but you felt like you had found a family in your barcelona teammates.
they cared about you more than anybody else had. you had been bounced around foster homes and care facilities your entire life. this family wasn't good by any means, they had left you all alone after all, but your teammates more than made up for it. you had finally started to feel like a real person, and it was going to be yanked away from you in a matter of moments.
"where the hell have you been? you do know that we have a game later today, yes?" alexia grabbed onto your arm and dragged you inside. you stumbled a little trying to keep up with her. you were nearly an hour late for the pre-game training, but arrived just in time for the team meeting and the warm ups.
"sorry i was late, i tried to get here as fast as i could," you told her. it was the truth, and alexia was mad enough about you being late that she wouldn't pry. that was something you liked about dealing with alexia, her anger often clouded her judgement enough to never look too closely at the small details. she was easy to lie to because she'd generally accept the first excuse you threw her way.
"just go to the locker room, i'm going to talk to your parents," alexia told you. you wordlessly walked to the locker room and changed into your practice kit. you took the first open seat you saw, which was next to irene near the middle. everybody else was filing in as well, so you didn't draw too much attention.
"we missed you this morning," irene said calmly as she put her arm around your shoulders. you instinctively curled into her side. she didn't know the specifics of what you went through at home, but she always made sure to take care of you when she could. most of the team knew how close you were, but only alexia had an issue with it. she believed that irene babied you too much and that's why you were so "irresponsible" in alexia's eyes.
"sorry, i didn't have a ride here," you told her. you always told irene more than you'd ever tell alexia or the other captains. marta was torn between being tough on you like what alexia wanted and caring for you like irene did. you liked her well enough, but you didn't really talk with her much. patri, however, she was the one who you truly avoided whenever you were in a troubling situation. she took alexia's words to heart, and the two of you often butted heads.
"where are your parents?" irene asked.
"it's a long story," you mumbled. irene didn't like that answer and was about to press for more when alexia burst through the doors echoing the same question.
"(y/n), where are your parents!" you winced at the sound of alexia's voice and all of the eyes turning towards the two of you. you tried to turn into irene, but she wouldn't let you. with everybody staring at you and your secret on the verge of being put out into the world, you did what you knew how to do and bolted.
nobody made a move to catch you as they assumed you'd run towards hte exit alexia was blocking. that was how you made your escape, going the long way and making it all the way out of the stadium from the back. you ran until your lungs were burning, and then you ran just a bit further knowing that nobody was going to just leave and chase after you until after the game. you may never get another chance to play for barcelona, but you were on the way out anyway.
"you've got a lot of people scared right now. i know that you're probably also very scared right now, but i need you to come back with me please." of all the people you had expected to find you, olga wasn't very far up on the list. you knew alexia had to have asked her to look for you, but olga didn't know you well enough to know about your special spot.
"how did you find me?" you asked her as you stood up. you were a good few inches taller than the woman, always having been tall for your age. you seemed to still be growing, just half an inch shorter than fridolina.
"alexia gave me her phone, which has your phone's location. i don't know what use it is for her, she can't figure out how it works in the first place," olga laughed. you let her lead you back to the car without running away. "so, um, do you want to talk about what happened?"
"i was late for team stuff again, and it's not like they'll renew me. my contract has been up in the air for months now, and after this, i'm done for. maybe i can go somewhere else, but that's getting put in another home. i can't do that again, so i ran off hoping that nobody would find me," you rambled. olga took everything you were saying in, staying silent as she processed it.
"has anything happened at the home you're in now? alexia mentioned your parents a couple times, but not in a while," olga asked you. she looked like she was working through things in your head.
"they're gone, like for good. apparently, taking care of me wasn't worth the check. i've got too many obligations to keep up with," you repeated their words to olga, whose grip tightened on the steering wheel. the two of you ended up catching the last bit of the game, and olga brought you up to sit with alexia's family.
there were a lot of eyes on you, whispering going on around you because you weren't on the field. when the whistle blew for full time, you were brought down to the field. you tried to hide behind everybody around you, but it was no use. your practice kit stuck out in the sea of normal barcelona jerseys. it made it easy for your teammates to come and find you.
"ale, before you say anything to (y/n), we have to talk," olga said. you were grateful for the woman as your captain was led away. the other captains followed them at alexia's request, and you could see them talking to each other from the corner of your eye.
"don't be so scared of her. ale's not as scary as you think," alba said as she squeezed your hand. "just look at how olga bosses her around."
"they're going to fire me," you mumbled. there were tears in your eyes, ones that all of the people around you had been waiting for you to let go. it was obvious that you were terrified, and most of the people not on the team could see you for the scared little girl that you were.
"relax, go get yourself a drink and sit down," eli told you. her tone was gentle, yet commanding. there was no room for you to disobey the woman, so you grabbed the bottle with your name taped on it and sat down on the grass. nobody had approached you yet, even though you knew that your teammates had seen you. they were all waiting for one of your captains to go over there first.
instead of one of them, you got all of them. they stood around you in a circle, waiting patiently for you to acknowledge them. "i guess you know about my foster parents now."
"we do, and that's why we're giving you options. you can't live on your own, not this young. you are a part of this team, one of us, and we take care of our own. it's not permanent, but you will need to pick one of us to stay with for a couple of weeks while we talk to the club," alexia told you. you looked at the women standing before you.
"i don't understand. aren't you still mad at me for being late?" you asked her. alexia shook her head as she knelt in front of you.
"my anger has been misplaced, and i am sorry about that. i've been harsh on you, and i have been shown the error of my ways. for official purposes, you have to stay with one of us, but after that, other arrangements can be made," alexia promised you. you looked between all of them, overwhelmed with the option to choose.
"does this make me eligible for the norway camp?" you asked as you looked at the signatures on your adoption papers.
"what are you talking about? you're spanish," marta said as she ruffled your hair.
"actually, i'm not. they don't really know where i'm from, i just play in barcelona," you told her. marta's eyes widened as she raced out of the room to call alexia. you glanced at caro, who was trying to hold back a smile. "you aren't going to try and stop her?"
"oh please, we both know that you wouldn't play for another country. you're spanish in all the ways that count." she had a point, even if you'd never tell marta. you thought it was kind of funny watching her and alexia come up with more and more propaganda and bribes to keep you in a spanish kit. soon enough, they'd enlist the rest of your spanish teammates to the cause.
"yeah, but look at her. it's funny," you pointed out. the two of you walked out to the car, just in time to catch marta trying to plot something over the phone. you sat in the back of the car as they took you home, glad to finally have a permanent home with people willing to truly look after you. you weren't just a check to marta and caro, which was a welcome change.
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ghostfacd · 11 months ago
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YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before
part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)
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ynuser :)
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user1 im loving the aesthetic
user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE
user3 put them toes awayyyy
rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)
➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her
➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??
user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.
user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on
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When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.
The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.
The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.
He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.
You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.
“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.
“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”
Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”
And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.
tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !
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ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA
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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE
user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other
user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔
➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me
user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car
➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW
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sean.kauf photo dumpy
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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬
➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓
user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..
user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!
➥ user17 REAL SHIIT
tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other
➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD
user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean
➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom
user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg
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ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!
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user21 this took the cake.
user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market
user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR
user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹
user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE
tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)
➥ user26 I CHOKED
➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN
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kyseya · 2 months ago
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Backstory - farm brothers
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So it’s fairly clear that Weston and Lucas are not normal people. Surprise, surprise they’re killers. I wanted to have a little Texas chainsaw massacre slasher vibe but don’t know if that worked very well.
Basically they lure(or people just end up there by themselves) folk to their farm and kill them. Though there are instances where they let some walk away without a scratch, but that’s only if they’re needed, will definitely be missed and could potentially be traced back there, and haven’t the slightest clue what’s truly going on at the farm. The Callaghan brothers can’t have anyone running their mouth, you know.
Their parents were pieces of shit and only had kids to lessen the work load. The farm belonged to their fathers side of the family. their mother had never planned to marry their father but an unexpected pregnancy and pressure from others made them stay together. The two of them were miserable with each other, always fighting and blaming the other partner. The mother was mostly mad about having to spend the rest of her days on a ‘dirty farm’ and work. The father hated being married to a vile, selfish woman who barely helped with anything. His own parents were old and his siblings had quickly moved far away to prevent having anything to do with the farm, which meant everything landed on him.
It was the mother who began using her son as a helping tool. Tasks like sweeping, feeding the animals, collecting the eggs and cooking simple meals were passed to him. At first, when Weston’s dad found out he was furious. But not because it came at Weston’s expense, no, it was because he saw it as a sign of ultimate laziness.
The earliest memories Weston has is of his parents fighting over him. He remembers when his father would reprimand his mother about using him to do her labour(he wanted her to suffer the same tiring days he does) while she screamed back. But then it stopped and his father would no longer complain. Nearly a year after that his little brother was born, and of course he became the one taking care of him after he didn’t have to nurse anymore.
Lucas followed his older brother everywhere. He was his second shadow when he went around and did his chores. It was fine with weston, he wouldn’t admit it but it became a comfort knowing he was a hero to someone. It made life easier. Unfortunately their parents wanted to put Lucas to work too, the moment they considered him old enough. That wasn’t the worst part though. Their mood soured significantly over the years and they verbally abused them on a daily basis, a couple shoves and blows were hard to avoid. You’d think they’d be happier with the easier load.
Weston would have been able to take it ifd only been him, but seeing his younger sibling being treated as dirt too, that wouldn’t fly. The hatred grew stronger each day. When it had boiled over the edge, the older one had decided on a plan. They would kill their parents. Sadly, they were too young at the moment, there was no way they’d be able to overpower two adults as they currently were. They would have to wait until they were older. And so they did. Years they waited for the right opportunity. The abuse and work never stopped, in fact, the older they got the more take they had to preform. Eventually everything was done by them and nothing was done by their parents. They finally got what they wanted, total freedom from the harsh farm life.
The day Weston told Lucas the plan to kill their parents, he had expected a little pushback from him, but he was surprised when Lucas was totally in on it. One might say he was even excited.
It was really easy to murder them. You just had to corner each one when they were alone and then slice their neck. The kids had far outgrown the adults, they were no match for them anymore.
After their mother and fathers death the brothers took over the farm. Despite all the bad memories they still liked it there. It was rather peaceful(especially when no one criticised you on how to feed the pigs), plus, they didn’t have much of an education beyond reading and writing. Where would they even go? At least on the farm they had food and shelter.
The killing didn’t stop though. It appeared the first murder had awakened something in the both of them. They both had found out they enjoyed it. The power and pleasure in seeing their parents fear stricken faces was too good of a high not to experience again.
Although, they might make one exception to the killing if you’re cute enough~
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slttygeto · 1 year ago
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SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.
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જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.
જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.
જ⁀➴ word count: 10k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.
ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.
Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.
“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.
“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”
“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.
“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.
Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.
“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.
“Huh?”
“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.
“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.
“Through it all, right?”
“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.
“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.
“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.
“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”
Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.
“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.
“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.
“Where was she during the last fight?”
“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.
It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.
“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.
“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”
--
You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.
The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.
“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.
“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.
“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.
“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”
“Not a little, a lot.”
“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.
Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.
Which made you realize another thing.
“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.
“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.
“Who?”
“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.
“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.
“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”
You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?
“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”
“I forgot!”
“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”
--
Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.
You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.
It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.
Don’t you dare-
“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.
“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.
Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.
“Is there anything you need or?”
“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”
Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.
“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.
 “Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.
You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?
“Are you okay—“
“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.
“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”
Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.
I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.
Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.
You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.
The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.
“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.
You two seemed to have that in common.
You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.
“Shit-“
“Ouch.”
You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.
Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.
“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.
“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.
The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.
You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.
“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-
“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.
“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.
“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.
“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.
“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.
“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.
“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”
“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.
“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”
“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.
“I am an amazing liar!”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.
“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.
The night seemed to be going pretty well.
--
You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.
The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.
“Hey wait,”
“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.
“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.
You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.
“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.
He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.
Mikey<3
--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?
You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.
--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.
Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.
“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.
“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.
You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.
--
Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.
Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.
You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.
“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.
“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.
“Were you expecting a bike?”
“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”
“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.
“Getting shy?”
“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.
“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.
“Mikey—really, focus!”
You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.
His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.
“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.
Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.
You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”
Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.
“Were you cooking?”
“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?
“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”
“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.
You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.
“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.
“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.
“Why?”
“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.
“I am not clumsy.”
“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.
“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.
“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“
“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.
“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.
It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.
“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.
“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”
Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.
“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.
“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.
--
Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.
You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.
There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.
He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?
“Mikey?”
“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.
“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?
“You mean as kids or?”
“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.
“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.
“Are you sure-“
“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”
This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.
“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.
“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.
“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”
What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.
“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.
“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.
“Hm?”
“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.
“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.
“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.
--
You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.
He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.
“Mikey-“
“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”
“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.
“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”
“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.
“Goodnight Mikey,”
“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”
You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.
He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.
“Goodnight, (Name).”
--
Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.
Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.
The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.
You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?
It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.
You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.
“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.
“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.
“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.
“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“
“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”
“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.
“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”
You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.
“How do I make him less scared though?”
“What do you mean?”
“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”
Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.
“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”
--
You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.
Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.
“Is this…?”
“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”
You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.
“What do I do with this?”
“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”
It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.
No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.
--
Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.
He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.
He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.
The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.
There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.
He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?
Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.
He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.
You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.
“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.
You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.
“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.
“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.
“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.
“But sir, why-“
“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.
You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.
Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.
“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.
“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.
“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.
Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.
“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.
“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.
He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.
“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.
“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.
“Yours-“
“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.
“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.
“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.
“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.
“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.
Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.
Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.
Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.
“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”
It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.
“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.
You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.
Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.
“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”
“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.
You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.
“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.
“Yes, you do.”
“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.
“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.
“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.
“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.
“Face down, I need to taste you again.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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theemporium · 10 months ago
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and to the poll voters who i thought i cheated you out of these two idiots, here they are!!
series masterlist
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“You know I love you, right?”
Max lifted his head when you stopped right in front of him. He raised his brows, leaning back in his seat on the couch as he took you in. You looked serious, which was only slightly unsettling, as you stood with your hands on your hips.
“Yes?” He said eventually, though it came out more like a question.
“And I only want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”
He frowned a little. “Yes. Although stressing me out with whatever you are going to say next doesn’t feel like it’s best for me…” 
“Okay, good. As long as you remember those things in a few minutes when you’re cursing me out,” you said with a nod, ignoring the discombobulated look on your husband’s face before you let out a sharp whistle. 
Max’s frown deepened. “What’s—”
However, he was promptly cut off when the door swung open and all three Leclerc brothers made their way into the flat. Max barely had a chance to acknowledge them before they were grabbing him—two on his legs and one on his arms—and carrying him out the house. 
“What the fuck?! Let me down!” 
“I’m sorry, baby!” You called out as you followed the four of them out of the house. “But this fear of the dentist can’t keep getting in the way of your health!”
Max’s struggles seemed to quicken at the mention of the dentist. “Baby—”
“Max, you know it’s for the best.”
And it was. He knew that. He knew that the second he was outside of the dental practice, there was little else he could do. But he would put on a great damn struggle until then, on the off chance he could escape and top up on the painkillers he had been having over the last week to numb the pain in his mouth.
“Do you think he will be mad at me?”
“He could never be mad at you,” Lorenzo assured you as he tugged you into his side. “You were doing what’s best for him. He knows that.”
“What if I broke his trust doing this and he never forgives me?” You continued, letting out a shaky breath. “He was just in so much pain and I couldn’t just sit there—”
“The man worships the ground you walk on,” Arthur pointed out. “He couldn’t even give you the silent treatment for longer than five minutes the last time he tried.”
But his words didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. “But what if—”
“He’s not going to break up with you over this,” Charles spoke up, a sincere understanding glimmering in his eyes that your other two brothers lacked. “He loves you far too much for that.” 
You nodded, opening your mouth to say something else but a voice interrupted. 
“Mrs Verstappen?”
You barely glanced back at your brothers as you followed the nurse through the dental practice. You nodded as you listened intently, taking in everything she said about how to best treat Max at home with painkillers and the healing process in general. 
You were about to ask a few more questions when you heard a familiar voice that made your stomach flip.
“WHERE’S MY WIFE? I WANT MY WIFE! BABY? WHERE ARE YOU?” 
Your cheeks burned as you shot the nurse an apologetic look before quickly rushing into the room, making your way towards Max as you tried to quieten him down. However, the second he noticed you, his face instantly lit up and he had little care in the world for anything else.
“Where have you been?” The words were muffled and slightly slurred, but the slight lisp made your smile widen. 
“Waiting for you,” you assured him as you took his hand, raising it to your lips to place a quick kiss on the back of his hand.
He stared at you blankly. “That’s not my lips.”
You snorted. “Your mouth is a bit too busy right now for me to kiss.”
Max frowned before he turned to the dentist. “Take these out right now! My wife won’t kiss me!”
Your eyes widened. “Max!” 
“No, I want kisses from my wife!” Max said, shaking his head before he tried to reach out and pull the gauze out himself.
“Looks like you’re gonna have a handful with him,” a nurse teased as she watched you grab both of his hands before he could rip his stitches open in his mouth.
You smiled. “Yeah but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Because she loves me!” Max added. 
“I do.”
“Soooooo much!”
“That is also true.”
“She loves me so much that she even lets me—”
“Okay, that’s enough talking, babe!”
.
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mydearzero · 1 year ago
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Livid | mean!Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Annoying Spencer, just to see him get mad, was one of your favourite ways to pass time at the BAU. Emily had warned you not too push him too far. You hadn't realised how right she was until Spencer decides he's had enough and takes you down to the basement.
Contents: DUB-CON, NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, mean!Spencer, no aftercare,, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie (is it even a mydearzero original if there's no coming inside?), spanking, dacryphilia, impact play, choking, spit, degradation, humiliation, semi-public sex, punishment, name calling, sir kink, filming and taking pictures without permission, orgasm denial, If I missed any warnings please tell me!
5K words
this one's a doozy folks. buckle up. it's pure porn - nik
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You weren't doing it on purpose at first. It just so happened that you occasionally did things that got under Spencer's skin. You gradually realized which actions ticked him off and started doing them more and more. You just enjoyed seeing him annoyed, huffing and puffing, yet never saying anything. His patience seemed neverending.
Emily had warned you not to push him too far. According to her, when Spencer snapped, he exploded. 
Yeah, right. 
Her discouragement only egged you on. You'd hardly ever seen the genius even get mad. Spencer got irritated at best. He was an angel, really. 
So you continued pushing, taking every possible chance to get on his last nerve. It had turned from enjoying seeing him annoyed to wanting to see him furious. You'd seen Spencer snarl at a snobby police officer once. Hell, you'd even seen him snap at an UnSub. But you'd never seen him absolutely livid. 
It took you a while to figure out why you wanted to see him get mad. 
You thought back to that case, the one that had him yelling at the UnSub. You couldn't even remember the details of the case. All you could think about was Spencer's hands gripping the table as he leaned across it, getting close and personal with the UnSub. 
You cared about the veins straining against the surface of his skin, the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. The only lasting memory you had of the case was the tone of his voice and what it did to your body. 
A part of you wanted to be on the other side of that table, and it scared you how that part was growing exponentially, especially after Emily's warning. 
You didn't want to admit it, not even to yourself. But the sole reason you continued messing with Spencer was the age-old 'teasing your crush to get their attention' stint, and you hadn't even realized it. 
You shouldn't have been having all these deep thoughts and desires while sitting at your desk on a random Tuesday afternoon. Yet here you were. 
You tried to read the lines on the page in front of you repeatedly but to no avail. Your face sunk into your hands as you groaned inwardly. You had to stop this juvenile behaviour at this second. He was going to catch on. You were certain somebody already must've done the math. 
It shouldn't have surprised you when Spencer did finally burst. It wasn't like you did anything out of the usual. He wasn't even being tormented by a gruelling case. He'd just had enough. 
"God! You think you're so cute, don't you?" Spencer exclaimed, slamming the mouse you'd taped over on the table. The silence from before and after his outburst differed immensely. It was calm and serene before it turned tense and awkward. 
You slowly turned to look at his desk, not meeting his eye. If you had, you would've seen the way his pupils dilated at your meek behaviour. The way he had to regain his composure. 
Your heart rate skyrocketed, feeling caught. You knew reading minds wasn't a thing, but profiling sure was one of the things closest to it in this world. Spencer couldn't have known what you were thinking only seconds prior to him finding your latest childish attempt to invoke his anger. But it felt like he knew. 
Spencer scoffed as you chewed on your bottom lip, suddenly not feeling so funny anymore. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" 
You gaped as you made eye contact with an overly amused Derek. He was enjoying this show to its fullest extent. "Don't look at me, kid. We warned you." He shrugged. 
You turned your eyes back to a still-aggravated Spencer. He pushed himself away from his desk and got out of his chair. He brushed his hands over his jacket, still sending daggers your way. 
Your gaze followed him hesitantly as he stalked over to your desk. You scrambled to arrange things as if your messy workspace would only annoy him more. 
"Get up." He demanded. You raised your eyebrows in question. Was he serious? 
"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Emily teased in a sing-songy tone. Not helping, Prentiss. 
"You're messing with me, right? Because of all the stupid pranks?" You asked sceptically. Your voice was wavering and uncertain. 
"No, I'm being dead serious. Get up. Follow me." Spencer made an upwards motion with his fingers as he loomed over your seated figure. 
You slowly pushed your chair out and sent questioning glances to JJ, who only shrugged. Your legs were unsteady as you stood. Spencer was your coworker, your friend. So why was your heart beating in your throat as if you were about to be sent to the fifth circle of Dante's Inferno? 
Spencer didn't say another word as his long legs stalked out of the bullpen, uncaring that you were struggling to keep up. You nearly tripped over your feet several times before reaching the elevator. You stood beside a seething Spencer, who turned to push the 'B' button. 
The basement? What business did he, or you, for that matter, have in the basement? Nobody ever- Right. Nevermind.
Nobody ever set foot in the basement. 
You twiddled with your fingers in anticipation, hearing Spencer breathe in an unnatural pattern. The floors passed by quickly, and before you knew it, you were met with the sight of the metal doors sliding open into darkness. 
Spencer flicked the light switch. Harsh, industrial, white light filled the dusty room. It was smaller than you expected. The rows of file cabinets made it look smaller than it really was. A desk was situated in the middle, seemingly abandoned. 
You shuddered a breath as you stepped into the room, feeling exposed even when you knew nobody could see or hear you down here. Your shoes seemed outrageously interesting, your eyes never leaving them as you awaited Spencer with bated breath. 
"Look at me." His words filled the silence. The room had an eerie lack of echo, his voice sounding closer than it actually was. 
You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze. He appeared taller like this, especially when you were already feeling small, hunching in on yourself. 
"I'm going to give you one chance to apologize for your downright appaling behaviour." Spencer crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. You felt as if you were being scolded by a teacher for throwing a crayon at another student. 
"Why the condescending tone, Reid? We're all coworkers here." You questioned defensively, mirroring his stance by crossing your arms. 
"That doesn't sound like an apology to me, but I'll bite. We are definitely coworkers. But you know as well as I that you changed that dynamic when you decided to start acting like a spoilt little girl begging for my attention." His composure didn't change as he spoke the incriminating words.
You didn't know what you expected coming down here with him, but this certainly wasn't it. You felt something simmer at his words, something you didn't want to acknowledge. You searched his face for any emotion, but only found a look that said "Well?" 
When he noticed you weren't going to answer, he laughed. It wasn't a hearty chuckle. There was an underlying tone of sarcasm and ridicule to it. 
"You've been at this for months, and now you're not even going to attempt to say sorry? I expected a shitty excuse, sure, but an apology nonetheless." Spencer scoffed. 
You knew he was holding back. You could see it in the way he turned his head and closed his eyes before facing you again. You damned your profiling skills for giving you a foresight of what he had in store for you. You'd seen nothing of his wrath yet. 
You knew he was getting frustrated at your silence, but you couldn't find the words. Nothing you could say could make this any better for you. You ran all the possible outcomes in your head, but every thought was more incriminating than the previous one. 
"Fine." He clapped his hands together, stepping away from the desk. He motioned towards it, signalling you to take timid steps towards the piece of furniture. You looked at him questioningly. 
His eyebrows raised. The words "You know what to do" went unspoken. 
You swallowed as your mouth went dry. You looked at the desk, before looking at Spencer again. He didn't have to say anything. He wanted you to do it yourself. You closed your eyes as you leaned your palms against the unkept wood. You slowly brought your elbows down, leaning on them uncertainly. If this wasn't his intention, you'd just embarrassed yourself into the next century. 
You heard him breathe deeply as he walked behind you. You jerked as his hand ran up your back until it reached between your shoulder blades. He pushed hard enough to press your chest flush with the desk, turning your head to lie it on the surface. His hand stayed there as the other was placed on your hip. 
Spencer let out a content sigh. "Better." 
He stepped away, leaving a cold feeling behind. You didn't dare move, already mortified at your predicament. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible as if any noise you made could set him off. You tried to hear what he was doing, unable to see him clearly in your peripheral. 
Your head raised off the desk at lightning speed when you heard the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter. 
"Did I say you could move?" Spencer asked. You shook your head, quickly placing it back on the desk. For a second, you wondered why you were even listening to him. He had no authority over you. But it felt exhilarating to give it to him. 
"You speak when I ask you a question. No shaking your head, understood?" His voice came from in front of the desk. How hadn't you noticed him walking around it? 
"Yes, sir," You squeaked, doing as he asked. Sir? Really? 
"Good girl." 
The words flipped a switch inside you. You licked your lips and closed your eyes, seemingly having to wait an eternity for him to take the next step. You heard the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling. You found yourself crossing your legs at the implication. Surely he wasn't going to whip you? 
You thought you were going to get scolded for the action, but Spencer ignored it. He reached for your wrists, lying awkwardly beside your head. You didn't dare make eye contact. 
You were confused at his next action until you saw the hole near the back of the desk, meant for cables. He threaded the belt through it before bringing your wrists to it and tying them together. The positioning was awkward at best, but you were starting to feel like that's what he wanted, to embarrass you. 
You gave the makeshift handcuffs an experimental tug. They didn't budge, of course. Panic simmered in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling settling at the thought that you were stuck. There was nowhere for you to go, nowhere for you to run from Spencer's revenge. 
He ran a hand through your hair, softly shushing you like you were a child. His hand slowly slid down your back. Your breath stuttered at his deliberate pace. He was taking his sweet time. 
"Shhh... You're fine." He whispered, putting a foot between yours and kicking them open. You grunted at the action just as he was hooking his fingers into your bottoms and taking your underwear clean off with them. He lifted one of your feet, only bothering to untangle one foot and leaving your clothes pooled at your other ankle. 
His fingers trailed up the inside of your leg. The tips of his fingers finally found the spot where you needed them most, but Spencer didn't do much besides feel you up. 
"You're so fucking wet it's pathetic." He mumbled as he wiped his fingers on your thigh. 
"You can pretend that you're tough and grown up all you want, but this is what you are. A pathetic little whore begging for my attention." Spencer walked around the desk and grabbed your chin harshly. The look in his eyes could only be described as animalistic. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips. 
You saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you. But he did no such thing. 
"Open your mouth." He demanded, squishing your cheeks between his pointer finger and thumb. You obeyed, but it wasn't good enough for him.
"You can do better than that, c'mon." He urged, putting his thumb in your mouth and pushing your head back. He removed his hand and observed you lying there with your mouth open. He seemed pleased at the sight, humming in approval. 
His hand made its way back to your chin, turning your face upwards, craning your neck uncomfortably. You hadn't registered what he'd done until you felt a warm glob hit your tongue. Had he just spit in your mouth? You looked at him aghast. 
"Wipe that shocked look off your face and swallow it if you know what's good for you." He patted your cheek mockingly. You closed your mouth and swallowed his spit, not trying to think too much about the fact that known germaphobe Spencer Reid had just spit. in. your. fucking. mouth. 
"That's what I thought." He said, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You thought he was going to take it off, maybe leaving it on your arms, seeing as they were currently tied to the desk, but he did no such thing. He brought the hem over your eyes, effectively blindfolding you with your shirt. 
You couldn't imagine what you must've looked like. Legs spread, bottoms haphazardly pulled down, shirt over your eyes, hands tied, pussy dripping. Your heart sank as you heard Spencer take another picture. 
"You look so good like this, exactly how you're supposed to be," Spencer spoke with a misconstrued sense of pride. 
You flinched and yelped when he abruptly struck your behind with a flat hand. You'd expected this was coming, that he was going to punish you, but you hadn't heard him approach. He rubbed his hand over the sore spot he'd just hit. 
"You're going to count them for me, and you're going to apologize after every single one. You better mean it because if I feel you're being insincere, you're only gonna get more until I believe you." Spencer set the rules, resting his left hand on your hip. You waited for him to begin, but another strike didn't come. 
"This is the time where you say 'Yes, sir' like you did earlier. I must admit, I didn't expect that one. But I like it, so we're keeping it," he mocked. 
"-Yes, sir," you stammered. Another hum of approval met your ears as he repositioned himself for the optimal angle. 
He didn't hold back as the second slap hit your butt. It stung more than you'd expected, a burning sensation spreading fast. 
"Two. I'm sorry, Spencer." You apologized, putting as much sincerity behind the words as you could muster. 
"No, that was one. The first one was just a warning. And you don't deserve to call me Spencer right now. You'll need to earn that privilege back. You'll learn to respect me soon enough. Now, start over." 
His hand came back down once more.
"One! I'm sorry, sir," you hissed at the pain. 
"What are you sorry for, princess?" Spencer asked as he delivered another smack. 
"Two! I'm sorry for disrespecting you!" You no longer had the energy to keep your head up, giving up the attempt to look at him and resting it back on the desk. 
"And?" He questioned. Another strike. 
"Three! I'm sorry for embarrassing you and pulling stupid pranks." You admitted.
"I don't buy it," Spencer contemplated. 
"Please, sir! I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry for being so childish." You apologized. A strike harder than the previous ones landed on your behind. 
"You don't speak out of turn, do you understand?" Spencer gripped your hair and pulled your head up to spit the words straight into your ear. You nodded wildly, as much as his grip on your hair through the shirt would allow. 
"Yes, yes, I understand." You said. Spencer let go of your hair. You only had milliseconds to respond, preventing your head from hitting the wood. He returned to his previous position, not wasting any time before landing several strikes to your ass.
This continued for a while, him smacking, you counting and begging for his forgiveness. Your legs were shaking by the time he reached the twentieth hit. 
"Twenty... I really am sorry, sir. I shouldn't have pushed you." You sighed, feeling Spencer rub circles over the impacted flesh. 
"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. 
"Yes, I won't do it again. I'm sorry." You didn't remember how many times the words 'I'm' and 'sorry' had rolled off your tongue that afternoon, but it must've been dozens. 
"Good. Now, for good measure, one last time." There was an underlying tone to the threat you couldn't place. You didn't have to wonder long, the last strike landing directly on your pussy. 
"Shit! Oh my god," you cursed, attempting to shut your legs. Spencer's feet kept them from moving. He'd anticipated the reaction. You were glad for the echoless chamber, the humiliatingly wet sound only reverberating slightly. 
"Now I can really be sure you'll remember." You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying this too much. But then again, hadn't you been the exact same? Gaining joy from inconveniencing him? You sighed at the realization you couldn't judge him for getting off on this. The last smack certainly hadn't been a dry one. 
"Now..." Spencer trailed off. He removed the shirt from your eyes, pushing it further over your head. He pushed the fabric into your mouth as a makeshift gag. 
"Don't you make any noise, okay? I mean, not like anybody will hear you down here." He chuckled. You turned your head and your eyes widened as you saw him walk towards the elevator. He pushed the call button and turned back to catch one last glimpse at you. He snapped a quick picture of your reddened ass cheeks before stepping into the elevator. 
You yelled his name through the gag, nothing but gurgling, obstructed pleas meeting his ears. He wasn't leaving, right? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He was just testing you. 
You were left with the sound of your own pants and racing heart. You tugged at your binds once more. What if he left? Went home? Surely it was past the regular office hours by now. 
Tears welled up in your eyes at the idea of being left here like this overnight. What if nobody came down here? What if somebody did come down here and saw you like this? You were conflicted. 
After 10 minutes of silent contemplation and several escape attempts, the metallic creaking of the elevator coming down sounded through the basement. You clenched your eyes shut, begging the universe it was Spencer and nobody else. 
You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the familiar sound of Spencer's shoes hitting the linoleum floor. You watched as he sipped his newly acquired coffee, not acknowledging you, only looking at his phone. After presumably sending a couple of texts, he shut it off and put it away on top of one of the cabinets nearby.
He smiled at the sight of the fresh tears rolling down your face. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Dacryphilia?" He asked as he crouched down to your level and wiped a few stray tears from your chin. He removed the gag from your mouth. 
You shook your head before correcting yourself. "No, sir." 
"It's a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing," Spencer explained. Leave it up to Spencer to dive into an explanation at a moment like this. 
"I never thought I was someone who could be turned on by that. But seeing you like this, I can definitely see the appeal." His words were quiet, but so was the room. 
"You look so pretty when you cry for me." He praised, running a hand through your hair. It was a surprisingly sweet sentiment, given the circumstances. He got up from his crouched position before you. You looked up at him. The domineering gaze he gave back told you all you needed to know.  
"Thank you, sir," you whispered, hoping it was the correct response. 
"See? It's not that hard to be respectful. But I'm not done with you yet."  
Your breathing picked up as you remembered your predicament. Spencer didn't waste any time, pushing his pants down. His cock was long and thick. 
You thought he was going to make you suck it. He pushed it in your mouth harshly, not giving you any room to breathe. He held you there, choking on his cock by the back of your head for a few more seconds before pulling it out and slapping it on your cheek. He smiled wickedly before tucking it back in his pants. It had only been a taste, literally. 
He saw your confused look, but ignored it, opting to walk back around the desk. He wasted no time, pushing two fingers inside your mortifyingly wet hole. He curled them exactly right, and you clenched your fist and eyes to stop your legs from giving out. 
Just as you'd started moving your hips along with his hand, he pulled away. "Stay still. Or you don't get anything." 
You willed your entire body to remain frozen as he resumed his activities. He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing at the exact speed and pressure to make your knees buckle. You had to put all your weight on your upper body to stop moving. 
"God, will you shut up?" Spencer groaned. You hadn't even noticed you were making any noise, the moans and whines falling from your lips sounding foreign. 
You bit your lip to keep them from escaping, but it was hard when Spencer was unrelenting. You felt yourself coming close, soft, high-pitched whines escaping your throat no matter how hard you tried to contain them.  
Your toes curled, and your muscles tightened, but Spencer pulled away. More tears welled up in your eyes at the immensely unsatisfying sensation. You wanted to beg him to please continue and let you finish. But he'd told you to shut up, and you really weren't looking to prolong your punishment. 
You heard your own pathetic sobs, drowning out the sound of him undoing his pants again. Your chest heaved as you tried to stay silent. Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the tears. 
It was bizarre how quiet he stayed. He was usually so talkative. But the implication that you didn't deserve him speaking to you unless it was an order was clear. 
"This is all you're good for. A hole for me to fuck. And don't you dare forget it." Spencer lined himself up and didn't offer any more preparation before sliding inside. 
"You're just a deplorable, woeful, pitifully sad little girl." Spencer spat as his grip on your hair returned. His other hand snuck around your neck, gripping tightly. He used the grip on your hair and neck as leverage to set a brutal pace, calling you every synonym for pathetic available. 
"You think you're so important? Good enough to be pulling shit like this? You need to learn your. fucking. place." Every word was punctuated by a harsh thrust. "You're expendable at best." 
You didn't dare speak, the only thing leaving you was quiet sobs, whines and moans. Your breathing was strained against the hold he had on your neck. 
You were embarrassed to feel the knot in your stomach tightening worryingly fast. Spencer was treating you like a whore, and you were getting off on it, faster than anything else ever had before. 
Spencer felt you tighten around him and quickly pulled out and stepped away. You felt the cold breeze on your empty hole. More tears spilt as you heard the sound of a video recording starting. 
Spencer zoomed in on your desperate, fluttering pussy, before pushing back inside, keeping the camera focused on his cock entering in and out. 
You tried to hide your face when he turned the camera to it, but his hand yanked on your hair, making you face the camera. 
"Say: 'I'm Spencer's little slut. His own personal hole to use whenever he pleases because I'm a cockwhore hungry for attention.'" Spencer demanded. 
"Please, sir. Don't make me say it on camera," you begged. You'd say it, just to get it over with, but the current footage he had was already incriminating enough. 
"No, you're going to fucking listen to me for once. Say it." The pace of his hips never let up, your figure moving crudely in and out of the shot. 
"I-I'm Spencer's... Please," you began. Spencer's speed inside you increased, interrupting your train of thought. He delivered a harsh smack against your still sore ass, urging you to continue. 
"I'm Spencer's... little slut. His own personal... hole... to use whenever he pleases." You inhaled sharply before continuing. "Because I'm a... cockwhore... hungry for attention." You stuttered over the words, forcing them out. 
Spencer seemed satisfied, putting his phone away. His hand returned to your throat, cutting off the airflow as he fucked you harshly. Every thrust of his hips sent a jolt of electricity through your body. 
The wood was digging into your hips, sure to be beaten and bruised by tonight. Your weight was no longer being held up by your legs, Spencer's presence behind you being the only thing that kept you from collapsing. 
You were tight with desperation, every muscle wanting that sweet release he was depriving you of. 
Spencer grunted unintelligible curses against you as he pistoned inside. His thick cock felt like it was splitting you open with every thrust, no matter how wet you'd gotten. 
"Gonna cum inside you, and there's nothing you can do about it," Spencer mumbled as he sped up. How it was even possible, was beyond you. 
"Please, sir. Please let me cum." You whined. If he denied you one more time, you weren't sure if you could take it. 
"What makes you think you fucking deserve to cum? You're an annoying, good-for-nothing brat who's getting what was coming for her." He moaned against the shell of your ear. The sound ignited something new inside you. You needed to hear it again. 
"Please, Spencer. Please," you begged, more tears threatening to spill after you'd assumed you were all out. 
"What, you're gonna fucking cry? Like a fucking baby? Don't fucking do things if you're gonna fucking cry over the consequences, you fucking slut. And it's sir to you, you whore." You'd never heard Spencer this vulgar. And you could've never imagined what it would do to you. 
"You know what they call this, crybaby?" Spencer asked, tightening the grip on your throat, cutting off most if not all of the airflow. You shook your head aggressively. 
"Karma." He spoke, thrusting harshly to get the message across. The combination of the lack of air and his ruthless thrusts was brutal. You could feel yourself trembling, trying to keep yourself together. 
Spencer pushed his cock sharply one last time, twitching and releasing his spend inside you with a loud groan. He released your throat and pulled out. You fell forward, chest heaving with dry sobs. He hadn't let you come. You cried frustrated tears as Spencer took more photos, as expected. 
You felt the warm come drip from your pussy as Spencer took close-ups. A tense silence overtook the room as he made himself decent before paying you any attention. 
"Garcia still owed me a favour, so she disabled the elevator from coming down here unless you enter a code," Spencer explained as he untied you. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, even if the ordeal was already over. The fact that there had been no real threat settled the uneasy feeling, even if only a little. It was the only consolation he offered. Spencer redid his belt as if it hadn't just been used as handcuffs while he fucked you like you were his property to discard. 
You rubbed your wrists, seeing the red wells carved in them from your relentless tugging. How were you going to explain this when you came in tomorrow? 
Spencer didn't seem to care, simply grabbing his stuff and waiting for the elevator. You looked around for your underwear, only to see a small piece of fabric sticking out of his pocket. You sighed and put your bottoms back on without the underwear, cringing at the wet, sticky fluid still between your legs. Your top was still wet with saliva and tears. 
You got in the elevator with him without saying a word. You'd expected to at least talk to him about it, but as soon as you reached ground level, Spencer was gone. 
Your eyes welled up and cheeks heated when you realized you were going to have to walk through the lobby and go home alone, all without any underwear and while still dripping his cum. 
Spencer had gotten what he wanted. You were mortified. And you sure as hell weren't going to pull any more pranks anytime soon. 
Not while at the office, anyways. 
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schrodingerscougar · 8 months ago
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Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .
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--
Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.
Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.
When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.
“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.
Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.
So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.
You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”
You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.
“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.
“No need.”
Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.
“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.
One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.
Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.
No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.
Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.
You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.
For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.
On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?
“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.
Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”
You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.
With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.
Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.
The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.
“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.
He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.
You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.
“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”
“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.
Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.
But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.
“I should go. If you need anything–”
You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”
He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”
“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.
“It's for her. Please, accept it.”
You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.
Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.
Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.
(part three)
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anundyingfidelity · 4 months ago
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FREE PASS — Sam Winchester
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Summary: Two men appear at your office to inspect a body from a lady who died under mysterious conditions. As a forensic, you are not letting strangers inside the morgue, but one of them is going too far to get your permission.
Pairing: Undercover!Sam Winchester x female reader.
Word count: 1.6k.
Warnings: smut, office sex, against the wall sex lol, sexual tension, p in v, unprotected sex, the dirty stuff, Dean being a dick (i love him he's a jerk).
GEN MASTERLIST!
taglist is here!
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“I said no.”
“If you could just give a call to our boss he’ll–”
“Sorry, I need proper documentation so you can check that up,” you repeated yourself for the tenth time as you took some piles of documents from your desk to save them into the archive.
Dean, undercover along with Sam for this new case, sighed, trying not to lose it right there. You were so insistent on getting those damn documents signed before they could inspect the dead woman’s body, who got reported as having all her blood drained with no trace. Why wasn’t this working? They’ve done it hundreds of times already, and not even his personal charms were enough to let them get inside.
“So, my partner and I really need to see this. We know there’s another woman that died, same conditions, in less than twenty-four hours after this one was found,” Sam intervened and interrupted Dean’s thoughts.
You looked surprised as to why they knew about the other body as well.
“I don’t recall mentioning the next one they’re bringing in for an autopsy,” you replied, eyes falling on Sam as you crossed your arms on your chest.
Dean observed your gaze attentively falling on his brother, your demeanor seemed to change abruptly every time Sam talked. Even your voice sounded different.
“How do you know that?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s presence.
“We know because we’re authority,” Sam sternly said.
“Well, I am the authority here. So you can either leave or bring the document from your boss.”
“Of course, doctor,” Dean interrupted your stare contest, smiling as best as he could given the irritating feeling you just caused him. “We’re bringing that up soon, thank you for your time.”
With that, both of them left your office.
“Damn, she was annoying,” Dean said, saving up his badge on his jacket.
“Yeah, but I think I have an idea,” Sam agreed as they made their way to the car.
“So what? You’re gonna sleep with her until she agrees?” Dean chuckled, but when he noticed Sam’s eyes illuminating, he stopped grinning. “Oh…”
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Sam went back to the morgue late at night. He hoped you were gone to inspect the bodies and get the reports, meanwhile Dean stayed back at the motel room to do some more research.
‘She’s a bitch’ Dean had said before his brother left, you really had hurted the charm in him. Sam found it kind of funny, though. Dean was so used to ladies swooning for him, and there were a couple of times those cheesy lines and non-chalant flirting had worked in tough times like this, but you weren’t buying it. So sneaking in was by far the best option he had.
Before starting the inspection on the bodies and making sure there was no one at the place, Sam made his way to your office to check on the autopsy files. The lights were still on but it was empty. He searched the last files, skimming and scanning information before taking pictures with his phone. He was almost done, saving them up in place when the door opened.
“Agent?”
God, he was so screwed.
Sam finished closing the drawer and turned back to get a look at you, standing at the door frame clearly mad at him.
“I hope you have the document I clearly asked for earlier today.”
“Uhm, this is very-”
“There’s nothing funny going on here, agent Harrison. Is that your real name anyway?” you asked as you approached him, until you were just mere inches away from each other.
He smiled as best as he could, ignoring your last question. Dean was right, you were a bitch. A bold one.
“You don’t understand, doctor. We can’t keep waiting for a piece of paper to make an inspection,” Sam replied as politely as he could.
“Probably, but it is protocol. I ain’t letting that slip away and risk my job just because two assholes are trying to hit on me to get access to the morgue.”
“We’re risking getting more people killed under this same pattern. Tell me, do you even care about them dying? We need to do something now, doctor, before it’s too late,” Sam started to raise his voice, but not to the point where he could sound angry. He was just being authoritative, exactly like you were with both of them before.
You flinched slightly when he raised his voice. He has started to think of the way you would react differently with him than with Dean. You clearly didn’t like his brother, but Sam was another story. Dean had obviously noticed that, and now Sam was seeing it too. Whatever you were feeling right now, could be cut by a sharp knife. Dean’s not so subtle idea was suddenly good, not that he didn’t think you were hot being all bossy and bitchy with them. He decided to give it a try.
Sam pulled you quickly for a desperate kiss. He swallowed a sweet moan of yours against his mouth, and towered you with his broad figure until you stepped back and you hit the cold wall behind you.
“What are you doing?” you asked between breaths when the kiss was over.
“Convincing you.”
He waited for an answer, but he got everything he needed to continue when you began to take off his jacket desperately, as if anyone could catch you inside the office in the middle of the night. Sam attacked your lips again, the kiss growing hot and wet as both explored your bodies, tracing patterns over your clothes you both were desiring to get rid of.
Sam barely could get your blouse unbuttoned and discharged your trousers after his shirt was gone. Your hand stroking his cock under his pants after unbuckling them, his lips sucking on the skin of your neck and long fingers finding your wet slit over your panties. You moaned, feeling one of his digits curling inside your walls, his breath hitching once your palm stroked him faster. You pulled him for a kiss, tangling your free hand on his long, soft hair as he grunted against your mouth. Both tasting each other’s sweet noises and savoring the heat building up in between.
He lifted you, your legs around his waist, feeling his hard cock pressing against your cunt. He just pulled your panties aside, bare chest pressing against your own still covered by your bra. He lined up with your entrance and you gasped, feeling the tip of his cock splitting you. He became so eager, so needy, he didn’t give a shit to undress you properly, he got what he needed between your legs. You looked so hot like this, squirming and moaning as he filled you up completely.
“God, you’re so big- oh, fuck!” you breathed out.
Sam grinned. “So fucking tight… And cockdrunk already.”
He slammed his hips and quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you right through it.
He held you tightly against the wall, your pussy taking him so perfectly he would just cum right there. The quietness of the office dissipated. Moans, grunts and the obscene noises of skin against skin filled the place. Your hand buried on his scalp, pulling his hair just a little, feeling embarrassedly close to your orgasm. You couldn’t help yourself. Ever since the moment they walked in, he caught your attention, and you spent the whole afternoon daydreaming of a good fuck either way.
Sam pounded harshly, hips stuttering and giving harsh thrusts as he felt his climax building up, his cock twitching when your walls began to spasm around his length, fucking you over and over, until he spilled inside you. Soon, you followed and came hard as his finger rubbed your clit slowly. You pulled his hair harshly once you reached heaven, and he nipped your neck, grunting on your skin. You milked him completely until his thrusts were slower, and eventually stopped, still buried balls deep inside your pussy, pulsing and sensitive from the best orgasm you had in a very long time.
You remained there, legs tangled around his waist as you softened on his arms. His hot cum dripped down your thighs, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.
When Sam cooled down from his high, he pulled out and helped you remain on your feet, your legs were still wobbly and he took some pride in your state. You shared an accomplice stare, and you knew you got yourself into some trouble.
“So… you still need my reports and check the bodies, right?”
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Sam slammed an envelope on the table with a thud. Dean, looking away from the laptop, noticed a proud smirk on his brother’s face.
“Really? You banged the forensic?” he asked with a teasing voice and laughed. “Wow.”
“What?” Sam said, getting annoyed by his childish behavior.
“I knew she was eye-fucking you since we entered that office. Guess I wasn’t her type,” Dean got on his feet, taking the envelope. “Anyway, that is a pretty reasonable answer as to why she was acting so hostile with me, specifically. Good job, Sammy.”
Dean patted Sam’s shoulder proudly, like a father congratulating his son for winning a high school baseball game, and then walked away to lie on his bed, taking out the copy of the reports.
Sam would’ve liked for Dean to actually ask questions about the case, instead he spent the next hour or so teasing him for fucking his way to get access to a morgue. He took out his phone when a text came, ignoring Dean’s disgusting question of how sex was.
We have a new one. What the hell is going on?
He might have found a new ally on you for this.
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Sam Winchester taglist:
@onlyangel-444 @feyresqueen @drasticemotions @stoneyggirl2 @whothefvckami
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zyogod · 6 months ago
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The Part-timer
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Tags: rough sex, public sex , female idol x you, other universe story , story building
Starring: Newjeans Pham Hanni
3,631 words
Part-time barista in the morning, Major music student. Pham Hanni has a full life and doesn't care about it
Hanni would smile politely as she gets yelled at and scolded by her boss in the cafe. That's fine, she has a punching bag at home where she can take out her stress. The only reason she can't seem to quit this job is because it's the only place where she can see and talk to you.
"Gonna order your usual?" She asked, gazing at you with her almond eyes.
"My usual order? You means your pretty smile?" I try to flirt with her
"You wish" she chuckled as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms as she gave that little smile of hers. She was wearing a simple gray blouse, tucked into her black jeans. Although it was too hot to be wearing anything thick, her usual uniform of work consisted mostly of layers of clothing that didn't really show off her figure.
"Although i never see you in casual revealing clothes hanni, hopefully i can see what underneath that blouse" Then i giggle to make it not too obvious
Her eyes narrowed as she saw your giggling reaction, she knows what you really want to see. Hanni leaned forward as she reached her bottom part of her blouse, and lift off her blouse, revealing her small waist and bit of her toned abs under that blouse like you imagined she would
"You happy with what you see, handsome?" She asked, her hands rested on her hips.
"Maybe if you lift that blouse little further i would really appreciate that" I said to her while looking around to make sure only both of us inside the cafe.
Hanni raised her eyebrows as she smirked.
"That desperate, huh?" She chuckled and she slowly lifted her gray blouse, letting you have a good look at her curves B cups sized pair of boobs.
I just stared at it mesmerized "quite small but looks nice and pliable" I said with a little laugh
Hanni lowered her gray shirt and stretched her right hand towards me and tried to hit me even though she missed "Shibal! It's good that I showed you, you're insulting my cute breasts" she yelled at me.
I stepped back and said, "calm down, don't get mad, I was just joking." Hanni pouted her mouth and glared at me, like I had gone too far in teasing her, "okay okay, I'll make it up to you" I said to comfort her.
Hanni took a deep breath as you stepped back, the blush on her cheeks grew even more red, she's clearly a little embarrassed by your teasing
"You better make it up to me" she said in a half-joking way. After all, she did kind of like the way you were looking at her.
I said all my orders to hanni and went to the outdoor area of the cafe so that I could enjoy my order later while smoking.
Hanni nodded as you placed your order and went outside to smoke. She got to work making your order, pouring the coffee into the cup and adding the cream and sugar just the way you like it. She also put a small slice of cake on the saucer to accompany your coffee.
~
A few minutes later, Hanni came outside to deliver your order, setting it down in front of you with a smile.
"So can i order you to be with me too, if that's can be on the bills?" smiling looking at her
Hanni's cheeks flushed as she heard your pick-up line, she wasn't expecting that. She couldn't help but chuckle as she raised her eyebrows, pretending to think.
"Hm.. I don't know.. Do you have enough money to pay for me?" she asked playfully, crossing her arms as she looked at you with a teasing smile
looking at her with little smirk
"How much Pham hanni service cost just only for having chit chat for loyal customer like me?"
Hanni pretended to think for a moment, tapping her chin with her finger.
"Well, as a special offer for my most loyal customer, I think a small donation of 20 dollars will suffice for some chit chat." She said with a mischievous smile, holding her hand out.
"How if i wanted more? There's any extra charge?" trying to following her games
"Oh, you're a very greedy customer, I see" she chuckled. She pretended to think again and then spoke up with a suggestive smile.
"I suppose if you want a little extra, I could indulge you. How much more are you willing to pay?"
In truth, Hanni actually doesn't plan on taking any money from you. She just wants to play along and see where this could go.
"Depends on how much i can get from those small Vietnamese petite body" I flirted with her more boldly.
As you spoke, Hanni's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, her heart racing from your words. She couldn't believe how boldly you're flirting with her.
"You're quite daring, aren't you?" She asked with a smirk, trying to retain her confident demeanor.
"But I'm afraid I'm not for sale. But if you come back tomorrow, perhaps I'll give you something special for free" she teased as she turned on her heels and walked back inside with a little wiggle in her step
scoffing after hearing her offers
"Tomorrow? That's too long, how about after your shift ended?"
Hanni giggled at your impatience, she's finding this little game quite amusing.
"Now you want to get special service outside of my shift? I'm not sure if you can afford that, handsome" she teased, leaning her back on the counter with her arms crossed, giving you a smirk.
"Perhaps there's another way you can convince me?".
Pointing out the huge bulge in my pants to her "pretty good deal? Or do you still want another bonus?"
Hanni’s eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of your bulge, feeling her cheeks burn even more red as she tried not to look down again.
"You're not playing fair, you know that?" She said in a half-jesting, half-serious tone as she bit her lip, her heart racing.
"I can't just do what you tell me to, I'm at work."
"How much your payment in this cafe for a day?" I ask her, this is maybe too much but it will be never hurt anyone to try it.
Hanni sighed as she knew she wouldn't be able to hide her wage from you.
"It's about 20 dollars daily" she said softly, feeling a bit embarrassed as she knew that’s not a high wage
"And before you say anything, no, I can't give you special services outside of my work hours for 20 dollars a day" she added with a small huff.
she's really played well to be hard to get out of sudden "how about 200 dollars for a night?"
Hanni's breath hitched at the number you said, 200 dollars is a lot more than what she makes for a days work at the cafe.
"200? That is a huge amount" she said softly, contemplating. She couldn’t deny that she’s pretty low on money, not knowing if she’ll be able to pay for her rent by next month…
"You know maybe that's will be an easy money for university students like you" I smile mischievously.
Hanni's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and uncertainty at your offer. She knew that she needed the extra money, but she was conflicted about accepting this offer.
"I…I don't know about this, you can't just offer me such a high amount in exchange for-" she trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she thought about what implications that would carry.
Before she's done with her words i cut her down "im paying for your dinner latter" i can't let her leaving the bait.
Hanni's eyes widened again as you cut her mid-sentence, she wasn't expecting you to counter her worries like that. She was torn between her morals and the temptation of the money you're offering.
"So wait, are you really asking me to-" she began to ask, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought about it a little more, weighing her options. She knew that this money could be an solution to her financial troubles and pay her college tuition.
"Well, you're treating me to dinner as well? Where are we eating? Something fancy, I hope." She finally said, a small mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"Which restaurant that college student favorite just say it" actually i don't know if she trying to push her luck or not, but who cares? It's good bargaining for me after all.
"Hoho, are you spoiling me now?" She chuckled as she put a finger on her chin, pretending to think about her favorite restaurant.
"Well, actually there's this nice Japanese restaurant not too far from here. They have some great sashimi and sushi. But it's a bit pricey. Is that okay with you?".
"That's fine I'll take you there as long i get what i want and you doesn't disappointed me with your service, at least i can guarantee the 200 dollars" i said to her
Hanni's heart was racing as she listened to your words. She couldn't believe that she was going along with this, but she knew that the money was something she desperately needed.
"Alright, you have a deal. But remember, I expect you to treat me well too, handsome. Can't have my night ruined by a bad date" she said, trying to maintain her cheeky attitude.
Waving my hand to her "don't worry".
Hanni nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. She couldn't believe that she was going to do this, but the thought of a nice dinner and some extra money was enough for her to look past any doubts.
"Okay, it's a date. But for now, let me finish my shift, okay? I'll meet you at the restaurant later" she said with a smile.
Im just nodding to her words.
Hanni returned to work, her mind still racing with thoughts of what the night might hold. She watched the clock closely, every passing minute feeling like an hour, just waiting for her shift to end.
"One more hour..." she whispered to herself as she tended to the customers, her heart beating a little faster with anticipation for the evening to come.
~
Without anyone realize one hour has been passed and i was waiting her behind the cafe in the small alley right after the cafe hanni work on.
Hanni finally emerges from the cafe, her shirt slightly disheveled from the long shift. She takes a moment to catch her breath, feeling a mix of exhaustion and excitement for her date with you. As she looked around, she spotted you waiting in the alley and approached you with a soft smile.
"Hey" she said quietly, her cheeks flushing a tiny bit.
Found her in my sight "yo, you looks little bit tired but kinda hot after works, with little sweat on you" teasing her since she's looking pretty even after few hours shift.
Hanni's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at your comment and she chuckled softly, trying to maintain her cool demeanor.
"So you think I look hot, even after a sweaty shift at work? You really are something, aren't you?" she said coyly, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She can't seem to hide her smile every time you tease her.
Suddenly I grabbed her left wrist and pulled her towards me and kissed her forehead
"Of course, has anyone ever made fun of a sweet girl like you?" I silently wrapped my arms around her waist while squeezing her small, supple butt.
Hanni gasped in surprise as you pulled her towards you, her heart racing at the sudden display of affection. She was caught off guard, but she eagerly leaned into the kiss on her forehead
"N-no one has ever treated me like this before" she managed to say, her cheeks flushed
Her breath hitched as you squeezed her butt, feeling her legs tremble a little from the intimate touch.
Focusing on her eyes.
"So, what do men usually treat you like? Like an adorable little slut? If that's the case, isn't it a little kinky? " I teased her.
Hanni cheeks burned as she heard your teasing comment, but there was a hint of truth to it. She knew she often attracted the attention of men who saw her as a small, innocent girl.
"Well, sometimes they do treat me like that" she responded softly, feeling her heart flutter as you looked into her eyes.
"I...I guess I kind of like it a little" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
After hearing her like that , i pushed her against the nearest wall and kissed her lustfully on the lips while my hands groped all over her body.
Hanni's breath hitched as you pushed her against the wall, her body responding immediately to your touch. Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, her fingers running through your hair as she melted into your embrace.
She moaned softly as your hands roamed over her body, feeling their touch sending shivers down her spine. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, losing herself in the moment.
After a few moments, you finally broke the kiss, both of you panting with desire. Her cheeks flushed and her heart racing, she looked up at you with a small smile.
"That was... incredible" she confessed as she caught her breath, leaning her head against your chest.
"This is just the beginning" I told her as I unbuttoned her shirt as quickly as possible and threw it somewhere, followed by taking off her bra.
Once her upper body was exposed, I immediately directed my lips to her chest and savored her breasts that didn't look too big but looked very cute and soft.
Hanni gasped as you quickly undid her shirt and removed her bra, feeling a rush of excitement and a hint of embarrassment as her upper body was exposed out in the open public space for the first time "oh my god we're in public, let's get a room first" she said with worrying tone.
Releases my lips from her breast for a few moments "don't worry no one will find us in this small alley" I reassure her.
Hanni's worries subsided as you reassured her, her body already craving your touch. She whispered, her voice barely audible as she gave in to the moment.
"Okay, just be careful, please" she moaned softly as you continue. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she arched her back, her breathing growing heavier with your touch.
After enjoying her supple breasts, I turned Hanni's body to face the wall and pulled down her jeans and panties, while spanking her ass.
"Time for my main course" I said in a slurty voice.
Hanni squealed in surprise as I slapped her soft little ass while looking at me over her shoulder "you want to do it here? It's a public place" she started to worry.
"Don't worry, I'll do it quickly" I told her.
Hanni couldn't help but be a bit overwhelmed by everything. Her mind was still trying to process the fact that she was letting you to fuck her glistening cunt in public.
Holding her hips from behind, I began to thrust my cock into her wet hole as hard as I could until I reached the end of her womb.
Hanni was surprised by my action of directly inserting my dick into her fuck hole suddenly without giving her time to adjust her pussy walls to the size of my dick, which made her feel split in two and made her feel pain and pleasure at the same time.
"Arkhh ahh ah oppa you're too rough, you'll tear my pussy if you keep fucking me like this" Hanni whines.
I keep pounding her roughly and moving my hands to her pair of tits too squeeze it hard as a handle for me to hold her in place
"I'm just make sure to make my money worth Hanni, you will get used to it soon" Keeping my pace to fuck her like a slut and keep squeezing her boobs hard with pulling her nipples.
The pain she feels is unbearable, Hanni starts to rolled her eyes because of the pain but gets pleasure from the rough sex she is experiencing, "Oppa you are going to break me, please be more gentle aaarkhhhh!!!" Unfortunately her body's reaction doesn't match her words, Hanni reaches her first orgasm as you fuck her like a whore.
When I felt Hanni having her first orgasm, I immediately pulled my cock out of her pussy so that she could squirt her cum in relief.
A few seconds had passed, Hanni's body was getting limp after squirting but I held her body while my hands still squeezed her breasts firmly and reinserted my cock into her pussy hole.
"I'm not done yet, you better not lose your spirit yet Hanni" I went back to fucking her roughly and lustfully like i was possessed.
Hanni was getting tired and losing her mind with all the treatment she was receiving from me.
She had begun to surrender to whatever was happening even though she was being fucked out in the open like a cheap whore.
All that was left were indistinct sighs and moans as she felt pleasure or pain.
After thirty minutes had passed, I started to feel close to reaching my orgasm
"Hanni, I'm going to cum where you want me to cum?" I said to her while adjusting the tempo of my movements in fucking her.
Hanni with eyes that were only half open and panting replied "Anywhere, you can cum inside me" Hanni said while stammering.
Hearing her words, I immediately pushed my cock as deep as I could against the tip of her womb and erupted my orgasm, filling her womb with my hot cum until her womb was full.
On the other hand Hanni screamed in pleasure, "Oppa!!! It's so full, take your cock out immediately! !!" She pleaded with her back arched backwards trying to release her pussy from my cock and relax herself.
After my cock was out of her pussy, Hanni pressed against the wall in front of her and bent limply but her body shook violently.
It turned out that she had a second orgasm and squirted very hard, releasing my sperm along with her love juices.
I as a man watching from behind was just amazed and satisfied to see the image of Hanni's pussy that looked melted while decorated with my sperm flowing out of her and the rest of her love juices.
I spanked her ass which was still shaking slightly
"Isn't this a nice sex experience, Hanni?" She seemed to be still standing on her knees with heavy breathing and did not respond to my words.
Hanni scoffed "good for you but not for me, this will be the first and last time I sell my own pussy for 200 dollars," she said as she slowly took back her jeans and panties.
Before she could put on her jeans and panties, I stepped on them to prevent her from putting them back on, "Why is that? Isn't that worth it? You even orgasmed twice because of this big cock of mine, didn't you?" I asked her in a somewhat annoyed tone.
Hanni glared at me "You're right, I cum twice because of that big dick of yours, but I was also in pain, so the pleasure I got wasn't worth the pain I felt, not to mention you fucked me like a cheap whore in this little alley," Hanni said annoyed.
I laughed at that "Come on it's no big deal, next time I'll do it gently, let me make it up to you, as promised, let's go to the restaurant you want" I took my foot off her jeans and panties and let Hanni put her clothes back on.
After Hanni finished putting her clothes back on, she stood in front of me while opening her palms "Give me my 200 dollars," Hanni said with a flat tone and annoyed face.
To avoid her irritation, I immediately gave her the money.
Hanni took the money I gave her and put it in the pocket of her jeans, then she looked into my eyes as one hand stroked the cock of mine that already warped inside my jeans, feeling the bulge in them.
"You enjoying the service right?" She suddenly spoke to me.
I nodded "Of course Hanni you are a very delicious little slut" I told her.
In a move I never expected, Hanni directed her hand that had been stroking the bulge in my jeans towards my balls and squeezed it hard, "Feels so good huh? How about this one, asshole, still feels good? Can you feel this little slut squeezing your balls?" Hanni yelled at me.
Feeling my balls being squeezed with full force by her made me reflexively squat down and hold her hand to reduce the force of the squeeze "Hanni please d-oo-on't" I said with a stutter while enduring the pain of my balls.
Hanni released her grip on my balls and slapped my face with all her might, "You asshole! Don't show your face in front of me again!" Then she left me to go.
And me on the other hand just stood frozen in place and tried to process everything that happened in this small alley.
.
.
.
Author note
Hopefully you guys can enjoy this first while waiting The lecture :)
1K notes · View notes
1d1195 · 2 months ago
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Honey III
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Read Honey here | ~7.8k words
From Me: It's slow going here timewise. I just have a lot to say.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, more of a daddy-kink if you don't blink. Some jealous Harry (NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉
Summary: “Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked.
“Hmm?”
“I love Cece.”
Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one...and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”
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Harry nearly sprinted into his home just like he had in his dream. He was so excited to kiss Cece as much as humanly possible. But when he got there the house was silent. Not a single light was on in any of the main rooms that should have been on. Even if it was in the middle of the day, the kitchen light was almost always on. Harry frowned wondering why on earth she would take his daughter out when she knew he was going to be home today.
Right about lunchtime, he decided it was a half day for himself since he missed Cece so much.
Which is why he was so sad she wasn't there. He went to the garage to see the car he left for her was gone which meant she purposefully left with his daughter.
He called her immediately. Curious more than anything but became irritated once it didn’t go through. Where the fuck was she that she didn't get service? He frowned and ran a hand through his hair looking at the messages she sent earlier in the morning and realized she hadn’t sent her normal mid-morning update. Harry felt a hot, creeping feeling start from his toes and it flowed all the way up his body.
What the fuck?
He called Niall. He was of course still at the office, and he was hoping maybe she was trying to surprise him. “Is Cece there?” He asked.
“What did she drive herself?” He snorted.
“Niall," he grumbled.
“No of course not. What’s wrong?”
“They’re not here,” his voice flat, irritated.
Niall didn’t say anything. Which told him that he was right to be confused and worried. “Oh,” he murmured.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Her phone's not connecting.”
“Shit,” he sighed. “Hold on... let me...” he hung up and Harry paced looking at the ceiling. After a moment he called back. “Nothing,” he frowned. “Listen, you trust her, and she loves Cece. She knows how much you missed her so if she left with her, it was for a good reason. Check your cameras.”
Harry put it on speaker and searched through the last few hours of footage. She left almost two hours ago—right around when he got the first of his daily picture updates. There was nothing other than seeing her car leave so there wasn’t anything to go off as far as where she was headed.
“Hold on,” Niall said and hung up again. Harry paced hands shaking as he tried to cling to the control he desperately wanted. When he called back, Niall took a deep breath. “Okay, she’s fine. So just don’t freak—”
“Niall spit it the fuck out!” He snapped.
“She’s at the hospital and—”
Harry slammed his phone on the counter so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if it was shattered—his phone or his counter, maybe both. He sped twenty miles over the limit the entire way. He parked in a tow zone and headed directly to the desk and presented what little information he knew. He was directed to the pediatric ward.
“Harry!” She shouted in shock as she hurried to him entering the floor and looking around for help. The dream he had of kissing the perfect girl was long gone. His trust in her was cracking like thin ice on a pond. He didn’t want it to, but what was he supposed to think? How could she do this?
“Where is she?” He snapped. Anger and hurt on his face. She blinked in surprise, confused by how mad he looked and why it was directed at her.
“She’s right—” She pointed toward the door and Harry shoved his way in without even letting her finish.
Cece was gazing up at the lights and other than a flush of color on her face, she looked perfectly normal. “Hello, sweet girl,” Harry cooed. His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He hunched over the bed made for a little kid, but she was of course so tiny it made his heart ache. He felt tears sting the back of his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked. Cece smiled, delight dancing in her pretty eyes as she recognized Harry. As if she wasn’t in a hospital and he hadn't seen her in over two days.
“Harry,” she said from behind him. She was holding a cup of coffee in her hands as she watched the pair of them. Harry was fuming. Pretty sure he had literal steam coming out of his ears from how hot he felt. But when he glanced back at her, there was one small part of him that couldn’t help but notice she looked exhausted. As exhausted as Harry felt his anger boiling him from the inside. “I tried all day to get in touch with you.”
The small reprieve he had from seeing her exhaustion was gone. Anger coursed through him with a vengeance, and he turned away from his favorite little baby and looked at her.
His eyes narrowed into a glare. He shook his head disappointment all over his face. “How could you fucking do that?” He snarled.
She blinked, surprised by his tone directed at her, completely flooring her. “I tried—”
“You could have tried harder,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what y’did t’me just now? You know how terrified I am of losing her,” his voice felt off. Strangled by his own emotion. “This is unacceptable. How dare you—”
But she doesn’t even flinch when he yelled; instead, she glared right back at him. Stepped toward him, bitterness in her expression, her tone, and her body language. “I tried, Harry,” she snapped just as irritated as Harry had. “I have called every number I had access to. I tried to contact your mom and sister through social media, but they must have private accounts. I tried everything. I called every person at your company, and they kept transferring me to your incompetent secretary so don’t fucking yell at me like I didn’t do everything I could have done,” she pulled her phone from her pocket and threw it the short distance at him which he caught easily. “Go ahead, go through every app and message, I’ve spent hours on the phone,” she assured him. “There’s no goddamn service here on top of that, so I kept using the nurse’s phone. I tried, Harry. I would never try to scare you like that by leaving you in the dark.”
Harry glanced down at the list of numbers with multiple calls to numbers from his company he recognized the grouping, all the numbers off by one for the different sectors. Each listing had a minimum of three missed calls most were closer to ten. Throughout the listings, Harry's name appeared, five, eight, six, at least fifty he had to imagine at the end of it. Niall had about the same. There was a plethora of messages sent to his phone too. Not sure you're getting these, but nothing is working. This is a shitty way to say it but we're at the hospital. Everything's okay, I just want to get her fever down. Niall’s thread had similar messages along with He's going to hate me :(
Harry's heart ached. He never received the messages, and knowing that one to Niall broke his heart most of all.
How could not one of her calls or messages have reached him?
“I take my job so seriously Harry. Of course I wanted you to know before I brought her here. But you entrusted me with Cece’s care and wellbeing and I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. I talked to your secretary over and over and she didn’t pass the message on because you were in meetings and refused to interrupt even though I begged. Niall’s phone worked either. I tried everything short of leaving her here alone and coming to get you myself.”
Harry flinched. He would never want her to do that. Leaving Cece alone was one of his worst fears.
How could his secretary not pass along messages about his daughter? Harry was so angry and now, he had someone to actually be angry at. “Fuck,” he snapped and headed out of the room.
“Where are you—”
Harry marched out of the room up to the desk station in the middle of the floor. He reached over and grabbed one of the phones without asking. The nurse closest to him opened her mouth to answer but after looking at Harry briefly, his intimidating stature, and anger rolling off him in hot waves, she thought better than to deny him the phone.
“Niall,” he ground out when the phone stopped ringing. His teeth hurt.
“I think I figured it out... The work phones have been wonky all day for everyone. I contacted the phone company--” Niall answered without waiting for Harry.
“Are y'still at the office?” His voice was low, angry as hell.
“Yeah... of course. How is she?"
"Fine."
"Are you sure? Fuck, Harry... that was so bad. I guess since we have personal phones through the work offer—”
He didn't have time for this. “Fire my secretary, Niall.”
“What?” Niall shook his head forgetting his train of thought about the phones.
“Tell her t'pack her shit and go,” he snapped and slapped the phone down into the receiver making the nurse bounce in her seat.
He turned to find her standing in the doorway between him and his daughter. “I’m sorry,” his voice was raw, and he ran a hand over his tired face. “I shouldn’t have...” he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to quell the emotion in his throat and eyes. “I can’t lose her,” he murmured.
Then, as if he hadn’t just implied that he didn’t trust her, she sighed. “Of course not,” she whispered. “I swear, I was doing—”
“I know,” he shook his head. “I know, I’m sorry. M’sorry I implied otherwise. I shouldn’t have—”
“Forget it,” she waved her hand flippantly. She crossed the few feet of space between her and Harry and she grabbed his hand. It felt so warm, so safe. She squeezed his hand and tugged him back to the room. “Come see her, she missed you,” she tilted her head toward the room. It was forgotten. The way he yelled at her. The way he insinuated she was anything but trustworthy.
Harry felt shaky and broken but glad she was there to keep him from freaking out. Glad she was willing to overlook his anger even if he knew he didn't deserve it. How quickly that feeling of being broken, cheated on, and lied to returned and made him feel worse than any of the times he had experienced before. She had no idea how much she had changed him and she hadn't done anything other than care for his baby.
Once in the room, he shook his head and focused his attention to his precious angel sucking on her pacifier happily and quietly in the hospital bed. “I will say though," she dropped Harry's hand as she crouched on one side of the bed and brushed her fingers over her cheek. "She looks pretty freaking cute in this big bed,” she whispered a smile in her voice.
Harry couldn’t argue. Cece looked cute as hell everywhere though. He wanted to smother her little face with kisses until she giggled. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “She’s okay?” He asked quietly. He should have asked that first rather than exploding at her. Even if he was mad, it should have been his first concern.
“Just a fever,” she promised. “Comes with the earache and cold she’s got," she frowned. "Poor baby woke up in the middle of the night. Inconsolable," she explained. "The medicine wasn't helping after a while and I wanted to be safer than sorry. Little miss scared me half to death,” she sighed her worried expression breaking Harry's heart. No wonder she was exhausted. At least Harry had a full night's sleep. He was getting a new phone company tomorrow. “But she’s on the mend now. Some stronger meds and whatnot. I hope that’s okay.”
“You hope that y’deciding t’give her medicine that will make her feel better is okay with me, after I screamed at you?”
She smiled wryly. Like she was keeping a secret. She rested a hand on Cece's leg over the blanket while Harry brushed his thumb along her face. It felt right holding his sweet baby with her looking at Cece like she was the most amazing thing to ever grace the earth (and she was, but Harry didn't know someone not related to her could feel that way). “To be fair," she sighed and squeezed her leg. "If my daughter were in a hospital and I didn’t know, I would have burned the whole city down until I found her.”
Harry smirked. “Thank you,” he hoped the sincerity in his voice made up for how terribly he treated her. “I’m sorry about the phone issue. It won’t happen again,” he assured her.
"Don't mention it, Harry," she smiled.
*
Harry woke with a start in the middle of the night. He sat up and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water, feeling emotionally drained. The hospital visit ended only a couple hours after he arrived. Because his car had been promptly towed after his arrival, he drove Cece and Miss Honey in her car on the way back home. She sat with Cece in the backseat without asking but Harry was extremely grateful.
Once he finished his glass of water, he peeked inside of the fridge. It was stuffed with several containers of yummy food she had made the last couple days. Half of them were labeled for Niall with hearts all over the sticky notes that made him roll his eyes.
The other half were labeled Dada with a single heart, but Harry thought the one heart was more important than all the ones Niall had.
He smirked and glanced around at all the decorations she had put up for Halloween, making his house feel like a home. It hadn’t felt like that in all the time he lived there. As he returned to his bedroom, he thought he would make a pitstop in Cece’s room.
Harry was an idiot to adamantly deny his feelings for Miss Honey. He was serious when he told Niall how perfect she was. At the time, he had convinced himself that it was because she was perfect for Cece. But if he wasn't in love with her before, he was now.
She laid across the area rug tucked part way under Cece’s crib. A pillow held below her head like she was hugging it, and her adorable seasonal blanket draped across her. But it didn’t reach her toes. Her eyebrows were pinched together like she was having a bad dream. Harry didn’t want her lying on the floor, but he didn't want to wake her either. She had a longer day than he did. His heart clenched knowing how much she adored Cece. How she would do anything for his little baby.
Harry grabbed one of the many fluffy blankets in Cece’s collection beneath the window. He spread it over her to cover her legs, making sure her feet were got wrapped up too. The crinkle of her eyebrows disappeared as he did which only tightened the bubble around his heart.
Grabbing another blanket from her basket, he settled into the chair. No way he could go back to his room knowing his favorite women were in one room. After watching both of them for a time, he fell asleep.
*
When she woke up, she stretched, her back creaking from the hard surface she slept on. But other than sleeping in the crib with Cece, this was as close as she could have gotten and it was well worth it to ease the anxiety she felt from the previous day. Getting to her knees, she sighed again, leaning low to stretch her lower back, her forehead touching the floor as she bowed backward. It was still early. Too early for even Cece to be awake.
The nightlight plugged into the wall was soft and painted the room in a warm, gentle, yellow glow. She peered at Cece through the slats of her crib and smiled—she was sleeping soundly, no pain, no fever. Just a little stuffy. “You scared me, pretty girl,” she whispered quietly.
“Me too,” Harry’s deep voice spooked her because she hadn’t registered that he was snuggled cutely into the chair that she assumed was used for late night feedings back in the first couple months of Cece’s life--split between Harry, his mum, and his sister. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart. Her cheeks felt warm. If she had been turned away from Cece’s crib, she would have noticed his presence, but her yoga pose was done without thought and now she felt embarrassed that her boss saw her stretching her lower back out.
His voice was raspier in the morning. His eyes seemed tired but still as beautiful as he always was. She could see he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and she wondered if he had forgone the sweats again as he had when he saved her from the front step. Biting the inside of her cheek she swallowed. “I just... didn’t want to leave her alone,” she admitted glancing briefly back at Cece, her little chest rising and falling easily. Then she turned back to Harry.
His smile was was so gentle, so sweet, it made her stomach twist. “Thank you," he looked beyond her for a minute at his daughter and then returned his gaze to hers. "I was going t’wake you. But y’had a long day.”
Her cheeks warmed again. She tried to remind herself that Harry was her boss, and it wasn’t okay to fuck him with her eyes regardless of how his half open eyelids screamed sex like he just had an orgasm. What was it with getting so turned on by him in the middle of the night?
When he had pulled her from her book in nothing but sweatpants a few nights prior, she thought it was almost worse than the boxers. She had to keep her eyes above his waist but there were even more sinful things to think about looking at his pecs and broad shoulders. It worked wonders for when she got back to her room and slipped her hand into leggings and pressed circles over her depressingly underused clit. It was not good to think about him like that. Not when just a hallway separated the pair of them.
Not when his infant daughter was sleeping in the very same hallway.
“Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked. She needed a safe thought. Something she could tell him that wouldn't get her fired.
“Hmm?”
“I love Cece.”
Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one... and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”
*
When Harry came home the following day with a mountain of papers and a laptop, she hurried to the door and grabbed as much as she could with her free hands while Cece stayed attached to her hip in the wrap. “Thank you,” he smiled. “Hi sweet girl,” he cooed and bent slightly to the height of Cece at her waist. He kissed her forehead.
“What is all this?” She asked, carrying what she had grabbed toward the kitchen.
“I fired my secretary,” he said as explanation.
“Jesus,” she blinked and deposited the papers on the kitchen island. She had a feeling that was what his call to Niall was at the hospital yesterday. So, she knew why. She felt guilty for calling her incompetent and for causing this mess.
“She made a mess of everything. I spent most of the day trying to organize it, but frankly I haven’t a clue as to what some of it is,” he ran a hand along the back of his head. Harry pulled the suitcoat he wore off where his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the top two buttons were undone. He was way too hot for her own good. For her own good. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted.
She frowned. She couldn’t imagine. He didn’t sleep much before his trip. Nor during—not if the late-night texts asking about Cece were any indication as he worried about her fussing prior to his departure. Paired with a delayed flight, Cece’s hospital visit, and what was probably a much less comfortable sleep in a chair before getting up to do it all over again? She wanted Harry to go to bed right that second. But he had to be hungry. She knew he hadn’t eaten breakfast, and something told her he probably skipped his two o’clock meal as well.
“Well, I made dinner,” she offered and hurried to the stove and Cece gurgled a cute little noise on her hip. “I know,” she smirked knowingly as if it really made any sense. “Dada’s hungry too,” she kissed the top of her head as she scooped the stew she had made into a bowl. She put a piece of the special bread she bought for the occasion in the toaster oven and then worked on Cece’s bottle. When she turned around holding the bowl of stew, the bread balancing on the rim, and Cece’s bottle in her other hand, Harry was staring at her. “What?” She blushed and tried to catch a glance of her backside in case she sat in something in between cooking steps. “Do I have something on my—”
“No,” he shook his head and grabbed the bowl from her hand. “Thank you,” his voice was low, deep.
She nodded and held the bottle out as well. “Do you want to hold her now?" She wanted Harry to eat, but she also knew he wanted to hold his baby for as long as possible before bed.
He seemed to be in a trance as he took a few bites of his stew and watched her and Cece. “Yeah,” he murmured eventually and held his arms out for his baby. “Hi baby,” he cooed and peppered her cheek with kisses. “Are you feeling better?” He asked bouncing her gently.
Harry, without holding a baby, with sleeves rolled up like that was one of the hottest things she had ever seen. Holding a baby? She shook her head trying to get the circuits running because she was pretty sure she forgot why Harry was asking if Cece was feeling better.
“Right, we need to give her medicine actually,” she said glancing at her watch as if she just remembered. When she looked back at Harry, she realized he probably hadn’t once given his own daughter medicine, and he had no clue what to do. Without thinking any more of it, she grabbed the medication, and the liquid syringe dropper needed. “Alright, girly, I know it’s not your favorite,” she smiled. “But it’ll make you feel better, here we go,” she aspirated the medicine into the syringe and brought it to her mouth. “She’s going to fuss,” she warned Harry. Harry nodded and held her like she did when she got her shots at the doctor’s office. She gently put the dropper into her mouth and depressed a few drops. “Hold her chin so her mouth stays closed,” her tone was gentle, instructive without demanding. She watched as the frustration appeared on her little face and she grunted and squirmed in Harry’s arms. Gently she ran her fingers down her little neck encouraging her to swallow. Harry watched her every movement.
“How do y’know what t’do?” He asked.
She smiled. “Classes, Google, experience.”
“Experience?”
“My youngest brother is fifteen years younger than me,” she explained. “Mom had to go back to work, so I babysat a lot. But it didn’t feel like it. Honestly, he felt a lot like my baby. My mom was great, don’t get me wrong, but I would kill for that kid even though he barely talks to me now because he’s a cool, broody teenager.”
Harry smirked. “Do you have other siblings?”
“Yeah. I have an older brother. Three years older. But I also feel like his mom.”
He chuckled. “I think sisters are superheroes.”
“Why thank you,” she put a hand on her heart and smiled like she was winning an award. Harry chuckled again and helped with the remainder of Cece’s medicine. “That was so yucky, huh?” she crouched in front of Cece’s eyeline. “So yucky,” she wrinkled her nose and giggled at her. Cece gurgled back and smiled at her. “Let’s eat the good stuff,” she smiled and plucked the cap off the bottle for Harry before grabbing a bowl of her own. “Do you want more?” She asked.
“M'still working on this one,” he jutted his chin toward the bowl. She looked at the papers on the counter beside them.
“Is this organized by person or by file type?” He stared at her for several long seconds as if that was the most ridiculous question she could ever ask. “Alright,” she smirked. “When you ask for a file, do you want the whole bit from the person/company/etc. or do you want all the same files bunched together?”
“I would probably want everything from the same company,” he yawned. “I think she had it the opposite way. Or maybe she messed it up on purpose before she left. This is only an eighth of it. I couldn’t be in that room anymore.”
“You didn’t hire another secretary?” She asked blowing on the bite of her food that steamed visually in front of her. It seemed like something Harry would have in surplus.
“They were all women,” he grumbled.
“Mr. Styles,” she tutted. “What happened to we’re superheroes?” She frowned.
He rolled his eyes. “You are a superhero,” he said simply making her stomach flip. The pause seemed infinite as he let that title settle over her. “Mum, Gemma, Cece, even Cece’s mum...” he trailed off looking at her in a way that made her feel special. “I can’t have anyone who puts m’daughter’s life at the bottom of a priority list work for me,” he explained.
“Harry,” she clucked. “She wasn’t a good secretary. You can’t swear off—”
“No. This is my decision, love. Also, I made everyone program your phone number into their phones today. And whoever is m’next secretary has a laminated index card next t’the phone that says even if m’in the middle of a meeting with the Secretary-General of The UN, they’re t’forward your call t’me,” he said it so casually and with his chin on the bottom of Cece’s bottle holding it upright, he continued eating his own food hungrily. “This is delicious,” he remarked.
Her heart fluttered. “You... you gave my phone number to everyone?”
“I never want there t’be another emergency, but if there is,” he shrugged. “I want you t’be able t’get in touch with me,” he sighed, looking at the papers on the counter and shook his head. “M’gonna put her t’bed,” he scooped her up. “Can y’leave that on? S’really good. M’gonna have more while I work on this," he nodded to the pile of papers there. "Niall might not even get any tomorrow, I might eat it all," that didn't surprise her. She needed to figure out how to get him to eat at lunch time.
She frowned and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“Say night-night, Cece,” he cooed and kissed the top of her head. “Say I love you, Miss Honey, thanks for taking care of me and feeding me yucky medicine,” her smile overtook the frown, and she grabbed Cece’s little hands as she kissed her forehead while Harry faced her forward. It felt unbearably sweet. Sweeter than any bedtime routine she had witnessed while babysitting her brother, or anyone else, or the kids she nannied before Cece.
“Good night, sweet girl,” she pinched at her little belly making her giggle before Harry took her to bed.
*
She heard Harry’s shower pipes whine from down the hall after he finished putting Cece to bed. While he was out of earshot, she finished putting away the dishes that were clean from the dishwasher. Then she looked at the stack of papers on the counter and started to sift through them. Fortunately, the names were at the top of the files, so it was easy to differentiate, and she began to make piles. She turned her phone on low and played gentle music so as not to disturb her concentration nor the sleeping baby (even if she wasn’t going to hear it from upstairs anyway).
Every paper was different so she could see how it would be overwhelming. Especially if there was a whole room of it. Poor sleepy Harry. She was so entranced and humming to her music that she didn’t notice Harry had reappeared. “What are y’doing?” He asked.
She jumped in surprise, the handful of papers she was holding fluttered to the floor. “Sorry!” She grabbed them swiftly and then stood back up smacking her head on the bottom of the counter. “Shit!” She hissed, rubbing the back of it.
Suddenly there were hands on her waist. Gently pushing her to the stool he previously sat in for dinner. Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and tossed them haphazardly into one of her organized piles. “Are you alright?” Harry asked concern in his voice. He went to the freezer immediately as she was seated then came back with a bag of frozen green beans to place at the back of her head as he looked intently into her eyes.
“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Just...clumsy.”
Harry’s free hand was on her thigh, whether he meant it to be there intentionally or not, she wasn’t sure, but she was glad it was. It was warm and big. It felt comforting even if she only bumped her head and nothing more. Also, it would be good fodder for the fire between her thighs when she went back to her room later and thought about the other things that Harry had that were warm and big. “What are y’doing?” He repeated, looking at the counter right over her shoulder.
“I thought I would organize—” His expression was weird again. Like when he was watching her scoop his stew into a bowl. “What?” She asked.
“Nothing,” he shook his head quickly. “Just... m’very grateful for you, love. Niall says I don’t say it enough and I think he’s right. Cece and I would be lost without you.”
Her cheeks felt warmer from the compliment, but she snorted out a breath of laughter. “Niall is just jealous that you get to eat the food I make fresh,” she teased.
Harry rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Are you okay?” He asked putting the green beans on the counter and running his fingers along the back of her skull very softly. It felt so intimate, and the motion went right between her legs. She nodded trying to keep her breathing even as she answered.
“I’m okay,” she hoped the waver in her voice didn't give her away.
He smiled and replaced the veggie bag on the back of her head. “Thank you, love,” Harry’s gaze was so filled with gratitude and warmth it felt like she was going to catch on fire.
*
Everything okay? Harry’s message read. She hadn’t sent any updates in hours. She didn’t need to. It was her day off and she didn’t even need to answer Harry if she didn’t want to, but he was so nervous that she wouldn’t. He missed her, plain and simple.
Fortunately, she answered before he got too worried. Completely. Just finished up my last appointment.
Just checking, you don’t need to rush. I can tell Cece just misses you :)
She smiled feeling guilty she was spending the day away from her favorite four-month-old. But she liked making appointments like this. It was easy to get them all done in one go, doctor, dentist, gyno, nails, and hair. Her last appointment was her haircut; she got several inches cut off making her feel lighter and bouncier. The blowout was fresh, making her feel brighter for whatever reason, too. She probably only needed a half day, but she thought some retail therapy would be her reward for a long stressful weekend. When she got home, she hoped to see Cece before her nap time, help with the medicine if Harry wanted (he did a great job on his own this morning but asked if she could watch to be sure), and then she planned on having her own, very needed, naptime.
She was headed to her favorite clothing store when she passed Harry’s office building. Without registering her own thought process, she was parked on the main road, and in his building before she realized.
The bustle of Harry’s main office floor never ceased to amaze her. The security guard at the floor entrance tipped his hat at her arrival. “Where’s Miss Cecelia today?”
“Daddy-daughter day,” she smiled and headed for the door labeled with Harry's name on it. Her nap was forgotten and she only thought about how he had brought those papers home and because she had asked to take the day off, he would be stuck with these again tomorrow.
She waved to a couple people who recognized her, two of whom complimented her hair. When she got to his office it was stacked with papers on every available surface. Even she got overwhelmed by the look of it.
She felt even more terrible that she asked Harry to take the day off when this was left for him.
She entered his office without catching anyone else's attention, started the quiet music from the night before, and got to work.
*
Cece was halfway through her afternoon nap when Harry sent a picture to the pretty woman who normally sent pictures to him at this time. He hadn’t heard from her in a while and was getting worried. It was odd that he didn’t worry about her when he was at work, but perhaps it was the comfort of her at his home being the perfect person to help raise his daughter.
I thought you didn’t hire a new secretary?
He read Niall’s message twice trying to figure out what joke he was playing at. He called him quickly. “I didn’t?”
“Well, there’s a woman in your office.”
Harry thought this week was destined to kill him mentally. He blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. “Well, call security!” He snapped.
“Wait a second...” he trailed off.
“Wait a second!? Niall! There’s a stranger in my office!”
He knocked on the door to what he assumed was his office. Knocked. Like he was interrupting someone doing important business and not stealing trade secrets.
“I didn’t recognize you with your hair like that, darling. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Harry could hear him grinning and almost immediately Harry realized who was in his office. Then, Harry heard the most beautiful laugh through the phone line and his heart squeezed with affection. The feeling of affection was directly replaced with jealousy that Niall was near her when all he wanted was to see her. “She got a haircut,” Niall narrated into the phone. “She looks beautiful,” he said to both of them.
“I’m going to kill you,” he growled.
“What are you doing?” Niall asked, ignoring Harry’s threat. He put the phone on speaker while he scooped up his sleeping daughter and placed her in her car seat. He already knew what she was doing and if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, he would probably kill her shortly after killing Niall when he got back to the office.
“Harry... papers... I’d help,” her voice was just far enough away from the speaker that he couldn’t catch every word. He grabbed the bag that was always ready to go for his little love and slipped it over his shoulder as he marched to the garage carrying Cece in tow and listening to his best friend flirt with the insanely perfect woman he lived with.
“That’s so nice of you,” Niall said sincerely. Harry let the call switch to his car, and he hurried to get to the office listening in on the conversation.
“Hardly,” she said flippantly. Her voice was closer now. “Harry brought some home yesterday and I felt bad that there was so much. He’s had a really long week.”
Harry glanced at the monitor on his dashboard catching sight of his pretty girl still sound asleep and notched up his speed.
“How long have you been here?”
She paused, maybe looking for a clock. “An hour, two hours?” There was a shrug in her voice again.
Harry stepped on the gas a little harder again.
“No one saw you?”
“The security guard did.”
Harry was going to have a serious talk with him too.
“Harry, do you have anything you want to say to her?” Niall asked.
“No,” he grumbled.
“Hi Harry,” her voice was soft, velvety. Harry couldn't fall in love. He didn't love anyone but his baby, his company, and his family. But where did that put her? He hired her to take care of his pride and joy, but this was beyond anything he could have anticipated. She was doing it out of the kindness of her heart.
“Hi, love,” he tried to lighten his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. Well, he kind of was. He had hoped she was using her day to enjoy herself not worry continually about Harry.
“I think I messed up,” she stage-whispered to Niall.
“He’s fine,” he whispered back in the same way.
Harry rolled his eyes listening to their inane conversation. After what seemed like an eternity, he found his usual parking spot before getting Cece from the backseat as well as her bag. He rushed into the building and made his way to his office without so much as looking at his employees.
She managed to organize as much paperwork in two hours as Harry did in a day. “Oh hello, my sweet girl,” she smiled at the waking baby and pulled the seat from Harry’s grip. She tugged the baby from the seat and held her against her chest and kissed the top of her head repeatedly. “I missed you,” she hummed.
“Wish you greeted me that way, darling,” Niall smiled mischievously only to get a rise out of Harry which worked incredibly well based on the way he glared at Niall.
She smirked and shook her head. “Reserved for Miss Cece only,” she squeezed her closer and inhaled her scent. “Did you have fun with Daddy?” She cooed.
Daddy Niall mouthed at Harry, a knowing smirk on his face. Harry shoved Niall, dropping the bag beside her car seat and started looking through the stack of papers she was working on while she and Niall fawned over Cece.
“Don’t y’have work t’do, Niall?”
“Figured I deserved a Cece break,” he said. “But while you’re here, I have the applicants for your secretary.” Harry ignored him and continued the work she started. Although it was obvious she was a well-oiled machine and Harry was incapable, in comparison. “Guess we’ll deal with it tomorrow?” Harry waved without looking up.
“Good luck,” he murmured to her. “Bye-bye Cece,” his voice changed octaves as he spoke to his daughter. “I love you more than Daddy.”
Niall was really pushing it lately. As soon as he was gone, she returned to the papers humming as Cece reached for them. “Oh, thank you, cutie pie,” she smiled grabbing them from her reach. “You didn’t need to come in,” she said. “I was going to go shopping but I was passing by and thought I—”
“I appreciate it,” his tone was clipped. She frowned feeling like once more she had done something wrong. As if he was sensing her nervousness, he sighed. “It’s your day off,” he reminded her. “I would never have expected you t’do this,” he sighed.
“Well, you’ve had a long week and—”
“You keep saying that, love. But so did you. Maybe even longer than me," he thought of her exhaustion clear as day on her face back at the hospital. He was certain she had a longer week.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Her face flushed a bit making Harry wonder what he did to embarrass her. “But you had a work trip and your flight issue, plus the hospital, and phone problems--"
“So what? You dealt with all that and more," she didn't answer. "What?" He tilted his head. “What is it?”
She sighed and looked away from him, nosing at the top of Cece’s hair. “You called me a superhero,” she said.
“Of course—”
“But I’m not, Harry. I’m not.”
Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and then settled them on the desk. Cece was making noises and blowing bubbles with her spit, so she walked over to her bag and grabbed bib while barely looking. Harry took it from her hand and placed it around her little neck to catch her drooling. But Harry just continued to look at the woman holding his daughter with awe. “You very much are,” he assured her.
“Harry, I...” she took a deep breath and dragged her hand down her face. “You pay me an insane amount of money for me to be a glorified housewife. I take your baby to the library and the park and sometimes a doctor's appointment. I give her a bath and make sure she naps," she explained.
"Arguably some of the most important jobs in the world."
She sighed. "Do you know how many people tell me my job isn't real? That I get paid to do nothing but play with a baby?"
Harry held his tongue before he said something crazy like "tell me who and I'll kill them."
"You do so much more than that," he reminded her.
"I'm glad you see it that way. But not everyone else does."
"What about all this?" He gestured to the papers. "S'not part of your job. Cooking and cleaning for me? S'not your job. I should jus' hire someone else t'do it so you won't--"
"Don't do that, please. I don't mind, I like--"
"Exactly," Harry stared at her hoping she saw how serious he was, how serious he was taking this. "You take care of families," he said. "But the way y'love them is beyond what anyone would expect."
How could she feel so inadequate? She did so much. But even if he placated her and that was the “only” thing she did, so what? She was damn good at it. She kept his baby safe and healthy without batting an eyelash. He knew she was working on Cece rolling over and grabbing her feet. He knew she read to her and sang to her. She counted out cooking steps and stairs and everything she did with Cece. She was ensuring Cece hit milestones and never once complained about anything. Not the lack of sleep, not the lack of time off.
She was brilliant. Harry was pretty sure she knew more about Cece than he did. He couldn’t imagine the stress she was under making sure Cece was always okay. For fuck’s sake, she slept on the floor to keep a close eye on her. Even Harry didn’t think to do that.
Harry stared at her. He cleared his throat. “Should anyone have a question of your qualifications, feel free t’give them m’number because I would be happy t’give them m’own recommendation,” he pulled Cece from her grip and placed her back in the car seat. “Let’s go.”
“Go where? What recommendation?” Confusion painted her face.
“The recommendation where I suggest they pull their head out of their ass. They’re fucking stupid for believing y’don’t work three or four times as hard as they do. Y’work way harder than I do and way harder than Niall. Probably even put together. You are on all the time. Middle of the night? You’re there. Breakfast? You have it covered. Y’have the most important job at this company--you realize that, right? I don’t trust anyone with m’daughter more than you,” he said. “Do y’know how long it would have taken me t’give her the medicine?” He asked rhetorically. “I would’ve called m'mum.” She felt uncomfortable—Harry was acting like she was making space rockets. “If y’think m’paying y’too much you’re dead wrong. M’not paying y’enough. You are doing more for me than I could have ever thought possible,” he picked up the car seat. “Now, if that’s all, I believe your first quarter review is done,” he grabbed Cece’s bag. “Let’s go. I’ll have the driver get your car back home.”
“Go...? Go where?” She asked.
“Shopping, y’said y’were on your way when y’stopped,” he headed out of his office and left her paused, contemplating everything Harry said and feeling warm all over. Her last family adored her, it was obvious. They didn’t expect her to cook and clean, but it just happened. So, she continued that in Harry’s house. It hadn’t occurred to her that Harry didn’t want her to do it.
“Hey, love?” He asked turning back into the room while she gathered her stuff.
“Yes?”
"Thank you," his expression softened around his lips and eyes. "It was really nice of you t'do this for me," he looked at the papers that seemed a little less daunting to deal with tomorrow.
"Oh... you're welcome. I kinda like organizing stuff," she looked a little shy admitting that and followed after him quietly. Settling her mind with thoughts of how important she was to Harry.
Her old family cared for her. But there was no declaration like that. She felt so special to be around Cece and Harry.
They got on the elevator to head to the parking garage. The little baby seat sat between their feet as Harry pressed the button that closed the door. "And..." he turned to her and smiled a little brighter. It touched his eyes and made her think Harry might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Carefree, beautiful, and absolutely kind. "Your hair looks really pretty like that, too."
--
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quiet-out-there · 1 year ago
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summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen
Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;) For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!
Word count: 6.6k
Giff: @xiaolanhua
Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite. 
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.
“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.
“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.
“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”
Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him. 
“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”
But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -
“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.
“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”
His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-
“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”
Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden. 
“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”
“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.
“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.” 
Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.
“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.” 
“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind. 
“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.
“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.
“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”
Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.
“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.
You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye. 
“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.” 
Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts. 
Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.
“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”  
Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort. 
Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape. 
It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,
“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful. 
Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-
The exit door, only a couple of steps away
 “Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-
You were going to throw up.
“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.
Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,
But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room. 
Finnick
Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight.  He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.
“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”
You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.
“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat
Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his. 
You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins
Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry. 
His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-
He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details. 
He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.
You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls. 
The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.
 “I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.” 
Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness. 
“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-
Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close. 
“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-
it was too much, too much 
You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang. 
“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-
Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,
“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”
You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.
Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise. 
And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-
Him.
The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.   
Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever-  and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort 
“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin. 
The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,
You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-
Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.
And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.    
Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet. 
“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”  
A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-
they were still there.
Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth. 
“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”
You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat. 
Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-
But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-
“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.
“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.” 
You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”
Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.
“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.
You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-
“Please, Peeta” you begged.
Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.
“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-
Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder. 
“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”
Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth. 
You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out 
“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”
You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said. 
Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.
He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.
“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.
“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.” 
You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers. 
The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-
“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him. 
“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.
You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-
“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you. 
He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-
He looked delicious.
“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”
You shook your head, exasperated.
“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”
You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin. 
“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss. 
His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.
Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-
“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”
Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.
And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.
“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.” 
You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-
“please”
Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.   
So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips. 
“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.
“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement- 
Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.
“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you. 
And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes
“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-
And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-
“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him. 
“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-
“Peeta” you whimpered.
He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-
“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.
 “Please” you managed moan.
And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-
You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.
Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids. 
“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.
“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized. 
You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.
“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”
You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-
He smelled so fucking good.
“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.
You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.
“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.
You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.
Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-
Nothing. Silence.
“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”
You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.
“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation. 
You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back. 
“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.
Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.
You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome. 
“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”
You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.
And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.
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