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themeraldee · 2 months ago

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Sweet Valentine

[Masterlist]

| 3.8k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Fluff. Some silly banter. And a whole lot of kissing and cuddling. Homelander is still Homelander (i.e. thoughts of murder occur on a daily basis, though not aimed at reader). Teeny tiny bit of Homelander trying to get frisky ('trying to' being the keyword here)

Summary: After a week of being spoiled with gifts leading up to Valentine's, you treat Homelander to a surprise of your own.

Author’s Note: This was meant to be done for Valentine's but hey at least it's still (barely) February!

Written for @discowizard88 for this request🩷

That’s just his rotten fucking luck.

Marketing thought it would be a good idea to book his entire week full of appearances, shows, interviews and commercial shoots because they didn’t think he had anything better to do. Fucking imbeciles. He has you now.

He’s been looking forward to this day for months. Throughout your first year together Homelander’s been counting down all the occasions, events and celebrations that he’s not really had a chance to cherish before. Maeve was never the type to accept his grand, downright scripted, romantic gestures. Their last celebrated Valentine’s she all but laughed in his face when he brought her roses. Needless to say, they’ve not celebrated any consequent Valentine’s from that year on out.

But you’re different. You appreciate it, you appreciate him. You turn downright giddy anytime he showers you with gifts and love. He was more than ready to smother you in love on this day. It’s a day for lovers, after all, what good would it be if he wasted that opportunity.

He planned it all out. Valentine’s day was gonna be big. As if you could expect anything less from him. And while the gifts kept coming, so did the TV appearances and commercial shoots.

It took one blink for the entire week to be pretty much over without him getting to participate in many of the activities he had planned.

Homelander hasn’t felt this frustrated in a while. While he tried his best to move the schedule around, Madelyn was adamant about the importance these event had on his image and he couldn’t do much but grit his teeth and comply lest he upset her. But why doesn’t she see how important this is to him? Isn’t it obvious?

He feels his eyes twitch. His smile becomes tighter, strained. Easily turning from his TV smile to the threatening grimace it truly is. These fucking photoshoots are beneath him. As if he doesn't have anything better to do than to stand here for hours until they've taken thousands of photos of him.

His irritation rises with each click of the camera, each flash blinding his eyes. He barely notices the way his eyes subtly heat up over the sound of ringing his ears. He's seconds away from blasting a hole straight through the camera lens and the photographer's brain. The urge to let go is strong, so strong in fact he can already imagine the bitter scent of burning wafting through the air.

Only thing that takes him out of his irritation is a subtle vibration against his leg signaling a new message. He instantly knows it's from you, nobody else gets texting privileges. Heat blooms in his chest. Just the thought of your attention brings back a genuine smile.

He graces the crew with a smile that really is meant for you.

“Sorry folks, I gotta take five.” His lips are stretched into that awkward thin-lipped smile and he puts his hands up in a faux-apologetic gesture. He steps off the backdrop to the side, already fishing out his phone from the hidden pocket he had the costume department sew in. They carved out a space in the fake musculature of the suit so it fit right in without leaving an awkward rectangular outline in what's meant to be a skin tight suit.

He unlocks his phone, greeted with the sickly sweet photo of the two of you. Sometimes this joy feels like his little secret. A vindictive joy against the odds.

Come to the cabin when you're free. I've got a surprise for you ❤️

Even a simple message from you causes the weight on his chest to drop, dissolving his anger immediately.

Aren't you a saint? Unknowingly you've just saved the entire studio. And they don't even know how grateful they should be that he has you.

And with a promise like that he can't really stand to have one more photo taken. He slips his phone back into his pocket, turning around with a swish of his cape.

“Whoopsie-daisy, gonna have to cut this short, the city calls for my help. You know how it is, the criminals just looove to push their luck. Anyway, you got enough right? Yeah? yeah I thought so." He makes some broad gestures with a solidifying thumbs-up as if he was committing to a deal and salutes with a, "Alright. Laters.” He talks fast enough to shut any critical comments down before they even have a chance to spill from their worthless mouths.

With a quick glance to the corner of the room where Ashley is already standing anxiously arrow-straight, he doesn’t need to say anything to know that she will fight and bargain to save the situation to the best of her meagre abilities. However the fuck she does is not his problem, not like he needs to explain himself.

He doesn't wait to see the other people’s reactions, already eager to lose the watchful eyes of the crew and the camera lens. He downright stomps his way out of the studio and at the first glimpse of the bright blue sky he takes off, kicking off the ground with an obnoxious boom that rattles the foundations of nearby buildings.

He’s giddy with excitement. As he rips through the clouds, the wind pulling his hair back, slashing through the gelled cast, he can’t take that smile off his face. The adrenaline-like rush he feels in his gut over your surprise is new. It’s exciting! He doesn’t remember the last time somebody treated him to an honest-to-god surprise. A proper one at least. None of the slimy corporate schmoozing.

He reaches the location in record speed, just under seven minutes—though it still feels like forever. But the excitement clouds his vision and suddenly he’s barrelling down the atmosphere, seconds away from performing one of his ostentatious landings and exploding the ground around him. He catches himself last second, putting his heel first as an emergency break.

His landing is clumsy. He staggers as soon as his foot hits the ground, kicking up the leaves around him into the air. He regains his balance at the last tremble of his foot, sparing himself the embarrassment of a failed landing—one he hasn’t experienced since the lab days.

God, now look at his pathetic simpering self.

Literally falling head over heels because you blew your whistle. Like a needy puppy he races to you, zipping through all obstacles, unwilling to lose a single second of the allocated time he gets to spend with you.

The sweetheart you are, you’d probably praise him for it anyway and kiss his boo-boo away. That thought alone makes him rethink the fall. Not that he can actually get scraped by a measly rough landing. Though, maybe the extra attention is worth the damage it would do to his ego.

“Woaaah, you okay?” Before he’s had a chance to look around and lock his eyes on you, you’re in his field of vision by your own doing. Quick footsteps, muffled by the leaves covering the ground become louder and louder until you’ve got your arms wrapped around one of his, helping him up. As if he actually needed it. He’s so charmed by the way you treat him as if he were fine china.

You give an awkward little chuckle. “Don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

Overcome with surging emotions, Homelander pulls you closer, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as he gives you a big sappy kiss. It’s as much a hello as it is a I love you with all my heart.

Now that his heart is satisfied, for the time being at least, he lets you go. Immediately tempted to dive in for more after he sees your flustered face, all giddy twitches to the corners of your lips as you look everywhere but him. Almost embarrassed that somebody might see you two kiss so passionately.

Yeah, he can’t let you go without more. He pulls you in again, and this time his kisses are silly. Loud with a wet mwah each time he presses a kiss to a different part of your face. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin and lips don’t stand a chance. This time his kisses do force flustered giggles out of you, a squeak or two after he squishes your cheeks with his numerous kisses. Good luck keeping count with him around.

Oh how he missed you. This week has been nothing but one item on Vought’s itinerary after another and his hunger for you and your love has been growing each passing second he spends in your absence.

You finally manage to push him away, the rapid-fire smooching already getting you ticklish and wobbly. Not that he wouldn’t catch you should his affection be too much for you. Of course then you really couldn’t escape the descent of affection he had to give.

But he’s a merciful god, and he lets you create some distance. Satisfied, he watches your giggles slowly die out as you look every bit in love. “Hey,” you finally break your loving eye contact and you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Hey, you.” He echoes, his smile equally fond, eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“You got here very quickly.” You note. Both a little impressed and suspicious. He’s very aware of the way your thumb is rubbing over his glove. Though dulled through the leather, each stroke makes his heart gain a little momentum.

“Well, you know,” he waves his free hand in the air, “the shoot was just wrapping up. I left as soon as I could. Wouldn’t wanna miss our secret little rendezvous.” The fact that he was close to burning down the studio is a little detail you don’t need to be privy to. Though at this point, you can probably tell.

“Speaking of,” Homelander continues. “There you go, summoning me to a quiet, middle of nowhere, cabin in the woods. Mind enlightening me what’s all this about? What kind of naughty plans has your pretty little head cooked up that require total isolation, huh?” His grin is sharp and he by no means hides the immediate thoughts running through his head.

“First of all, this is your cabin. Not some middle of nowhere. Second of all, get your mind out of the gutter—now.” Even through your scolding you giggle, grinning at him as you walk backwards, dragging him with you.

Turning just around the end of the cabin presents a sweet sight. On the soft grass lies a picnic blanket, adorned with a woven basket, a colourful spread of food, pillows, and even a bunch of roses. As if taken straight from a romance novel.

Except, this is real. Unlike most of his previous love life.

“Tada! Happy Valentine’s day!” You let his hand go and you raise your arms in the air at the reveal. Right along with your pretty glittering smile. The joy of this moment feels unreal. Is this really happening? Is this really his life these days? He can’t remember a time when he last experienced a joy this pure that wasn’t with you.

“W-uh-what? You put all of this together?” He’s a little shell-shocked. After a busy week, filled with more work than time with you—much to his displeasure—this feels like an oasis. He’s been parched all week, dragging through the desert that was working for Vought and here you come, rescuing him with the most delicious sip of water. Well, more like a whole reservoir of it.

“I had a teeny tiny bit of help but yeah,” you pinch your fingers together to show just how little help you’ve had.

“I had to make it a secret! And you’ve been treating me so well all week, I had to have a little surprise for you too.” He can’t tell which one of you is more excited. You look more excited with your near ‘skipping to the picnic blanket’ attitude, but his heart is hammering against his ribcage with this overwhelming joy he’s not felt in a while. He still so easily gets disarmed by all the ways you show your love. This is just another cherry on top of what feels like an infinitely tiered cake that is your relationship. Each time he thinks you surely don’t have more to give, you go and add another tier or another cherry. Sweeting his sour life, one moment at a time.

“Come on,” you walk—no, skip—back to him, aiming to grasp both of his hands. Homelander catches you right before you manage to, one arm around your waist, the other supporting the back of your head and just like that you’re yet again caught in the web that are his kisses. He presses his lips firmly against yours, waiting for you to relax, letting him have his way with your now-parted lips. With pleased little sighs and long hums in between, he renders your legs into a jelly-like state, supporting your weight effortlessly.

“I love you,” he breathes out heavily when he finally pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“I love you too,” you catch your breath. The smile you offer up steals his heart a hundred times over, while the sped up pitter-patter of your heart soothes him. You’re just as enamored by him as he is by you.

“Let’s enjoy this together.” He lets you take his hands this time as you walk him to the picnic. You sit down first, carving out a space for the two of you, impatiently patting the area next to you. Homelander takes care to move his cape out of the way while not knocking anything over or covering anything up.

“I hope your calendar is free the entire weekend because I brought a lot of food, drinks, blankets and movies and I plan to spend all this time spoiling you.”

“I thought it was the gentleman’s job to spoil his lady.” He looks at you fondly, one wouldn’t even recognise him like this. Though most haven’t earned this reaction from him. You have.

“What can I say, I’m all for gender equality. So just let me spoil you for once.”

“Alright then missy, let’s see what you’ve got.” He’s lying on his side, propped up on his elbow.

While you reach for the furthest tray filled with all sorts of sweets and finger food, Homelander looks around at all that you’ve prepared, curiously picking up an iced cookie.

“Are these… our initials?” He asks after he inspects the heart shaped cookie from each side before biting into it. They’re clearly custom made with the love for each other in mind, but the idea of you ordering these from a bakery makes him chuckle. What’s next, are you gonna get him to carve out your initials into a tree?

Well, he definitely could.

Maybe, he should.

He could carve out your initials into the moon if you asked him to.

“Cheesy, I know.”

“Sweet too, just like you.”

“I take it back, you’re a whole league ahead of the cookies.” You deadpan.

“Come on babe, when else if not on Valentine’s day? Cut me some slack.” He was gonna put the rest of the cookie down, not wanting to overwhelm himself with too much sugar but seeing his initial all alone now that he’s bitten off your letter looks too sad for his liking. He pops the rest of the cookie in his mouth, wiping off the crumbs with his glove.

“Now, now. Don’t get too full on cookies. I’ve got more for you.” You pluck a chocolate covered strawberry from a tray. “Here, open up.” You hold the chocolate covered tip of the strawberry close to his lips, waiting for him to take a bite. It’s only appropriate for a man of god-like status like him to be fed and worshipped by his love. You always fill that role so well. His most devout one.

He bites half of it, letting you eat the rest. You put the green top back onto the tray when you’re done with your portion.

“You know I’ve never had those before.” He says after a thorough tasting session.

You have the audacity to look at him like he’s grown another head.

“You’re fucking with me. You’ve never had chocolate strawberries?” Your face scrunches in disbelief as you speak over a mouthful of goodness.

“I’ve had chocolate. I’ve had strawberries. Obviously. Just never together.” He shakes his head a little, acting as if you’re the crazy one.

“Wow. Okay. We’re gonna have to explore this bizarre list of things you’ve never had before.” Indulgently you go for another one, and he takes another mental note of your likes.

When he says nothing you prompt him with, “Well? What’s the verdict? Is it everything you’ve ever imagined?”

“Did you make them?” He asks, confusing you, instead of actually answering your question.

“No, I picked them up from the same bakery I got the cookies from.”

“Okay good, well, it’s not my favourite. Sorry to disappoint you there.” He clasps his hands together as he looks at you with a terribly fake apologetic smile.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Were you about to lie to me if I said I did make them?”

He sputters, blowing a raspberry as he looks away, pretending to just be scoping out the place.

“Who, me? No, never!” He feigns innocence without actually putting any of his acting chops behind the gesture.

“You ass!” You gently smack his chest. “What didn’t you like about it?” Now that you know he’s not a fan, you eagerly hog the tray, scoffing down one strawberry after another.

“The taste is fine enough. It’s the texture that’s all wrong. Mushy and crunchy at the same time is just, bleugh.” He shakes his head a little bit as if disgusted, acting all dramatic. He’d happily be seen as silly and dramatic if it gets you to laugh as joyously and heartily as it does this time.

When your chuckles die out, you call him out. “Fussy. Oh well, more for me.”

He takes his time. Watching over you closely as you enjoy your sweet little red treats.

“You know what would taste better?”

“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly, putting the tray away after discarding another leafy top.

“You.” He pulls you down to his level when your hands are free, lying you across the top of him.

You yelp at the sudden pull. After you settle on top of him a little better, you mumble. “I taste just like the strawberries!”

“Mhm, but you feel a hell of a lot better. C’mere.” Just like that, he’s kissing you again. His hands can’t decide where to hold you so they slide around your back, your hips—stealing a cheeky squeeze of your ass, shocking a little nip to his lip from you—and all the way around your neck, head and arms. His hands are just as greedy for you as his lips are.

And you were right. You do taste like strawberries and chocolate. The hint of sweet and delicious alongside the taste of you that he so loves. You don’t take his kisses as seriously. Giggling and wobbling on top of him.

You pull away with a burst of giggles at the awkward position. You’re almost spread entirely across him, limb to limb. Body part to body part. It’s admittedly a little silly looking. Like two people making snow angels on top of one another. But still, the effortlessness that comes with the sounds you make, swells his heart with fondness.

You reach your arm out into the woven wicker basket and pull out a can of whipped cream.

“Well if you don’t like the chocolate ones, I’ve got some whipped cream for you.” Except instead of covering one of the fresh strawberries, you squirt a dollop of cream at the tip of his nose.

Homelander’s bewildered at your child-like actions. Especially so, when you lick the cream off with a disgusting slurp.

“Welp, now you’ve done it.” He easily wrestles you for the can without needing to use even an ounce of his strength, twisting the two of you around.

He manages to knock over some of your pretty trays but he can’t force himself to care. Now when you’re underneath him.

You look so pretty like this.

Happily taking your place underneath him, cheeks puffed up with your laughter, lips in a constant wide grin. Your happiness around him makes you the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He has to stop himself from descending on you with another avalanche of kisses, instead opting for continuing this playful little wrestling match you got yourselves into.

Homelander squirts the cream in a line over your lips, licking and kissing it off in between the laughter that still shakes your body. He leaves your lips leaving all sticky and improperly cleaned. This distracts you well enough for him to draw a line from your neck to your cleavage.

With a scandalous shriek you try to push him away. “Oh my god are you crazy, not out here!”

You squeak even more when you feel the cream land in between your breasts, spreading across your skin as it slowly warms up and turns liquid.

“There is literally nobody out here. I’d hear them.” Or well, let’s be real. He’d burn their eyes out for accidentally seeing you in a mildly compromising position, he wants to add but chooses to keep the moment sweet for your sake.

Obscenely, he licks up all the cream he covered you with. No matter how much you act as if this is the filthiest thing he’s ever done. There are plenty more filthier things he’s got planned with this whipped cream. Suddenly you’ve opened up a whole world of possibilities he hasn’t thought of before.

Thinking he’s already got you hook, line and sinker as soon as his tongue hits your skin, he’s in for another surprise when you don’t give in as easily. You manage to snag the can from his hand right before he gets any further.

“If you want to continue this, we’re gonna have to pack all of this up and take it indoors.” You threaten as if you were scolding a child.

"Fine. We can stay here." Finally, with a huff, he drops his advances, instead dropping his weight on you for a second before readjusting your position. Really, he’s glad that you have a mind of your own. Which isn’t something he can say for most of the people he’s surrounded with.

“See, this is nice.” You pull yourself up a little so that his head rests on your stomach. You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly and he enjoys the slow rise and fall of your torso. To have someone so alive and eager with him really feels like the best Valentine’s day gift. That sickly sweet dimpled little fruit could never compare.

So yeah. It is nice. Really nice.

Your fingers cradle through his locks, gently breaking apart the hair product the styling team piled on for his photoshoot. He hums his pleased approval into the softness of your stomach, nuzzling himself into you.

Shenanigans can always wait. Now, he has this. And the rest of the weekend to catch up on all the time lost.

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole | @misatxox

#i know i know #i also can't believe there's no smut in this #funnily enough fluff is very much out of my comfort zone so this was a fun and a strangely challenging write!#not sure how well the pacing comes across and if the banter lands but I enjoyed writing it!#from now on I'm putting my weird food opinions on homelander #breaking news chocolate covered strawberries are awkward as fuck to eat #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction #homelander fluff #fic request

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lukesaprince · 10 months ago

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Rich Part 23

Summary: Harry and y/n deal with the aftermath of y/n's panic attack and do some retail therapy to prepare for their trip.

Warning: Smut, public bj & masturbation, exhibitionism, daddy!kink. Mention of panic attacks, Ethan and illegal dealings.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: This chapter isn't as long as I hoped it would be and I wasn't able to get a lot of the Pleasing scene complete. I haven't been in a good writing space recently and I really want to make sure it's all planned out properly but I wanted to post something in the mean time for you! Enjoyy

- Find Series Masterlist Here -

- Find my General Masterlist here -

Harry’s stomach was in knots. It had been twisted since the moment he let you walk away from him at his office. His head was in a constant state of nausea and the very thought of you being so far from him had his body aching. Your trip was coming up so quickly, two weeks exactly now and things had taken such a sudden switch he was dizzy.

He hadn’t seen you for a couple of days, or spoken to you properly either. For anyone else that would be normal. Seeing your partner every day wasn’t a prerequisite to having a happy relationship, but to Harry it was torture. Other than your text message when you got home Wednesday, you hadn’t spoken to him. He sent his usual good morning text Thursday morning and was only met with silence. He worked through his lunch that day so he couldn’t call you like usual, but if that ever happened he expected you to call him first. You never did.

He tried to call you that night, then again Friday morning but you ignored him both times. He was starting to panic, starting to fear that you were seriously not okay or that he had done something to fuck everything up even if he didn’t realise it. He knew you two could communicate if that was the case, that your relationship was strong enough for you to speak to him if he did something wrong. After everything you two had been through, your foundation was strong. At least Harry believed so.

But knowing it could be the former option and you could be at home in an unstable mental state was far worse than the possibility of him doing something that warranted you ignoring him. Harry didn’t want to push you, but he also couldn’t handle the unknown.

He was meant to spend Saturday with you. You were going to meet him in the city to get as much shopping done for your trip as possible then he would spend the night. It was your last free day before locking down for studying and Harry wanted to make it something stress-free and enjoyable to give you a mental break. You only had a couple of free days after your exams before you both flew out so there wasn’t a lot of time to get the key essentials once your semester was over. Mostly you just wanted new clothes and wanted to pick things out for Harry as well. He was happy to oblige.

But now… he didn’t even know if you two were okay.

So he decided that he needed to see you. You could turn him away and tell him that you needed space or hated him or preferably that you loved him. Whatever you wanted. Harry didn’t care what you said, as long as he found you alive and okay.

Early Saturday morning Harry was driving to your place with a bouquet of fresh lilies, a large oat latte and a croissant from your favourite local bakery. He didn’t have your keycard anymore so he couldn’t let himself in… but Harry was creative. It felt a bit reckless and immature actually, calling your best friend to let him in like it was some plot for forgiveness, especially when he was just checking up on you. But Harry didn’t want to risk you coming downstairs and turning away without seeing him or worse, just plain ignoring him.

“Hey, Harry.” Maeve greeted, smiling at the man as she held open the entrance door for him. It was especially cold outside now, so he was quick to rush inside and let the door close before he hugged her quickly as a hello.

“Hey, Maeve. Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s fine. You’re lucky I like you.” She teased, bumping his shoulder while they walked towards the elevator.

Harry was fortunate enough to spend more time with your friends. As were you to spend more time with Niall and Jed. Since Harry was mostly spending time at your place, he had spent time with Maeve and Jay, even Dakari. Usually, it was just your neighbour and coworker, but there was a double date situation where Harry became aware of the ‘older guy’ Maeve was dating.

Dakari and Harry knew each other through golf and Pleasing. They weren’t exceptionally close, but they got on well enough to treat their beautiful girlfriends to an expensive dinner in the city. Dakari was actually interested in investing in Pleasing, but Harry didn’t particularly like the way he conducted business and would’ve rather owned a third of the club than share a sixth with a man he didn’t want to associate with. Harry was glad for that decision now, since his once silent investment turned into him having a say in business decisions and provided perks that he loved to use.

He hadn’t really used them since he met you but he hoped one day he would. With you.

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it… Have you seen her? I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday and I’m really fucking worried.” Harry admitted, holding the door of the elevator open for Maeve.

“Yeah, I have.” She nodded, “she told me what happened... It’s pretty fucked up. I hope you’ve dealt with that asshole.”

Harry assumed that meant everything.

“I have. I mean, I will.” That still didn’t mean he was going to elaborate. The plan he had set in place to deal with Ethan was one for the inner circle only. The original, small, tightly-knit circle. It was illegal after all. To frame a man for stealing $250,000. “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay… I think she just needed space, that’s all. I wouldn’t take it personally, Harry. She loves you.”

“I know and I don’t. Well, I’m trying not to, anyway.”

The rest of the ride was full of polite small talk. Maeve complimented the flowers and the croissant, but Harry didn’t need her approval to know you loved them. He knew you would because he knew everything about you. Everything except how you were feeling right now.

Harry made sure Maeve went back to her apartment before he knocked on your door. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie, but he was hoping that you two could talk about your panic attack and hopefully end up having a nice day together. He just wanted to hold you and see you smile.

The door swung open barely ten seconds after Harry knocked and there you were. And you looked… okay. Thank God, you looked okay. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and body by the droop of your shoulders and bags under your eyes. You hadn’t changed out of your plaid pyjamas yet but that was normal. Aside from your clear exhaustion, you looked well.

“Hi…” Harry breathed, smiling softly. “I wanted to check up on you. You haven’t answered my calls or texts…”

Your eyes softened and it took a moment before you said or did anything. Without saying anything, you pulled him inside by his nice vest and wrapped your arms around his body, pressing yourself against him. He reciprocated the best he could with his hands full and loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, breathing out a huge sigh of relief.

There was a flood of instant relief through Harry just at your tight hug. Like a heavy weight dropped from his shoulders the moment you buried your face into the light blue checks of his vest. God was he fucking ecstatic. Just having your body in his arms was euphoric and there was no feeling quite like the comfortable intimacy of a hug.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

He could barely understand you with how your face was pressed against him, but he made out the words and was immediately taken aback.

“What? Baby, why are you sorry?” He soothed, now desperate to free his hands so he could take care of you properly.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you, I was just…” you sighed and pressed your cheek to him instead, sliding your hands beneath his vest and shirt to feel his warm skin. It was like a clutch for normalcy, a tie to feeling okay again. The last few days had been so murky and unsettling. All you wanted was to feel safe again. Harry never failed to make you feel safe and yet you pushed him away. It wasn’t fair to him and it went against everything you two tried so hard to build. “The panic attack freaked me out and I needed time to sort my feelings out… I shouldn’t have ignored you, H. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t spologise baby, please…” Harry paused, “just-let me put these down, okay? Then we can talk properly?”

You pulled back and looked up at him, reluctantly releasing him from the hug. It was barely a minute before he was on you again. All he did was set the three items on your little table before he wrapped his arms around you properly and squeezed you tight against his body, rocking you slightly from side to side. You gladly inhaled his masculine scent, finding comfort in the rich, sexiness. It was unfair that he always smelt so good. Even after the gym he still smelt like a sexy, clean wealthy man.

“You don’t need to apologise, y/n. I know it freaked you out.” Harry soothed, pressing his lips against the crown of your head, “I was just really fucking worried. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen at all and once it did I just kept thinking and thinking and I was just so angry and exhausted. It was a lot.”

“I know. Trust me I get it. They can be the most debilitating thing in the entire world…” Harry soothed, pulling back from you. “Do you want to go sit down and talk about it?”

With a nod, Harry guided you to sit down on your bed with him. It was still unmade, but Harry didn’t care. You took it a step further and crawled back towards your pillows to lie down on it instead before patting the spot beside you so Harry would join you. He shoved his shoes off then shuffled in beside you, adjusting himself so you were cuddled into his chest.

It was all done in comfortable silence and once you were settled in, Harry decided to speak first.

“They can be traumatic.” Harry murmured, “I spent nearly five hours in the gym after one of my panic attacks.” At his words, you untucked your face from his chest and looked up at him to watch him speak. He smiled down at you, stroking his fingers across your cheek like his words weren’t deeply personal and from a dark period of his life. “I worked my body so hard and wrecked myself because I was trying to deal with my emotions. Or trying not to deal, more like it. I definitely paid for it afterwards but at the time it was the only thing I knew would get my mind off it.”

“I came home Wednesday and cried,” You whispered, watching his eyes sadden. It killed him that he wasn’t there to help you. “Then I went and bought Red Bulls and chips and pulled an all-nighter to finish off an assignment like it was nothing. I was so… I don’t even know how to describe it. I was angry, yeah, but I was also so far out of my head that I just wanted to distract myself.”

“We all do unhealthy things to cope sometimes, y/n. There’s no one way to deal with things. Pulling an all nighter might not be the best way but you were doing the best you could to cope.”

“It didn’t help.” You frowned, tracing the checks on his vest with your nail.

“I can’t imagine it did.” He chuckled softly, sighing when you didn’t look up at him. “Don’t beat yourself up for it, baby... Maeve told me you spoke to her about it. Did that help?”

So that’s how he got in. You couldn’t really be upset by it. Maeve wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to see him. You were just… a bit nervous to make the first move.

“It did. It was good to rant about it with someone who didn’t really know anyone involved.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Harry hoped you would. After hearing nothing for days he just wanted an insight into your head.

“You don’t have to.” He continued softly, prompting you to look up at him, “I’m happy to just be here with you if that’s what you need.” He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I would’ve been here when it happened too. I hope you know that. You don’t have to go through these things alone if you don’t want to.”

“I know but I was just so overstimulated I think and… I didn’t want to say anything I regretted,” an unreadable look flashed through Harry’s eyes, like he wasn’t exactly sure how to take what you were saying. You sighed, looking back down at the same quad of checks you had been tracing with your finger during this entire conversation, “I don’t think I ever really processed what happened with Ethan and… your part in it, I guess. There’s been so much going on that I just kept ignoring it and ignoring his existence completely. Seeing him really triggered me and the more I thought about it…” you sighed again, “the more I was angry at you too, not just Ethan.”

“You were?”

“I know you’ve only done what you thought the right thing to do was. But I just don’t get how you can work with him every day. He hurt me so fucking badly Harry…” you could feel your throat starting to get scratchy and your eyes prickling with tears. The stinging forced you to turn from him and close your eyes momentarily, but it did nothing to conceal how you were feeling. The sight practically broke Harry’s heart. “I don’t get how you can even be in the same building as him. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I feel sick every day I have to see him, y/n. I’ve done everything I can to make sure we never cross paths but sometimes it’s inevitable. He was never meant to be on my floor on Wednesday and I never would’ve let him come anywhere near you if I knew.”

“But you still work with him, Harry!” You sat up abruptly, looking down at him. “It doesn’t make sense. He’s getting no consequences for what he put us through. I get you couldn’t go to the police because there was no evidence, I get it. But I need to do something. I need you to do something.”

“I am.” He didn’t want to get frustrated at you, not when you were hurting but he was hurting too. This wasn’t fucking easy for him and if the law meant nothing he would’ve gone after Ethan himself and made sure he never bothered you or anyone else again. But he couldn’t exactly do that, could he? He sat up as well, nudging backwards until his back was against your headboard. “Y/n I’ve been dealing with him at work the last couple of months because I had to for my plan to work. I couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary because I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself, but I have a plan. It’s just one of those things you have to wait for.”

“What is it? This plan?” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him expectantly.

“I can’t tell you.” Harry almost seemed reluctant to say the words, but it wasn’t because he was apprehensive about his decision to keep it a secret from you, it was because he wasn’t sure how you’d react. He didn’t want you to be mad at him, but at the same time he wasn’t going to compromise your safety and your future.

Because that’s what it came down to. If everything went to shit and you knew even one single detail about it, you were done.

He wasn’t going to let that happen but he also wasn’t going to sit here and lie and pretend that nothing was going on behind the scenes. That’s something he would’ve done at the beginning of your relationship, but he knew that this was just as much your fight as his and lying wasn’t the right thing to do. He could be honest and keep you safe at the same time.

“What do you mean? Why?”

You were immediately jumping to many conclusions, all Harry wanted to settle. He just wasn’t sure how.

“Because it’s not exactly legal, y/n and while it’s pretty fucking foolproof I can’t risk anything. If the whole thing comes crashing down I don’t want you knowing a single bit of it.”

“But that’s-”

“You will find out. I promise.” He interrupted, “just not until it’s over. I’m not budging on this.”

As much as you wanted Ethan to pay, you didn’t want it like this. You always knew he covered his tracks well but you hoped that by now there’d be some loose thread. Someone with hard evidence to be able to get him punished and that clearly wasn’t the case. But that didn’t mean you wanted Harry risking everything, either. It was exactly how you felt when you first met Niall and Jed and learnt about how they were blackmailing Ethan into handing over the photos. It was reckless and a huge fucking crime. You prayed that it wasn’t the same plan because nothing on this fucking planet was worth Harry going to jail and you losing him. You couldn’t even bare the thought.

“I don’t want you doing anything illegal Harry. It’s stupid!” Your voice broke in your distress, shooting Harry right in the heart like a goddamn bullet. “I’d rather him get away with everything than have you risk yourself. What if you go to jail or what if it doesn’t work? I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.” His eyes softened and he reached forward to cup your cheek, “You won’t.” his thumb traced over your cheek and he couldn’t help but kiss you gently before pressing his forehead against yours. “I understand you’re scared, y/n but I have to do this not only for you but for me too… I have no choice but to go down this route because he left nothing for me to work with. Fucking nothing. If there was another way, I would do it. But this is it.”

“And you can’t tell me?” you whispered, wishing you could pry the whole truth from his mouth.

“No.” He shook his head, leaning back just a tad so he could see your whole face at once. “But I’ve done all my due diligence, baby, I promise and I’m as far removed from it as I possibly can be. So please, just, let this one go. For now.”

“I’ll try…” you settled on, unable to promise anything more. “How long am I letting this go though? A couple of weeks? A month?”

Harry sighed and leaned back against your headboard, “I don’t know. Could be while we’re on holiday, could be in a couple months. When I know, you know.”

“And in the meantime you’re just going to keep working with him? That doesn’t seem fair” You didn’t particularly like that idea. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t want him stepping foot into that office again while that asshole was walking around free and triggering panic attacks left right and centre.

“Well…” His lip quirked up in a smile, “I was hoping we’d enjoy our holiday together and then who knows… maybe I won’t go back to work once we’re home. I haven’t decided yet but I’ve wanted to do something different for a while now. Just not sure what.”

“I didn't know you were thinking of changing jobs.”

He shrugged, tracing random patterns on your back through your pyjama shirt. “I haven’t been planning anything per say, but I’m a bit bored. Seeing that asshole around doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t seem worth it anymore, not when I can do anything else and be happier for it.”

“A career change at your ripe age? That’s ballsy.” You mused, squealing and jumping slightly when he pinched your ass.

“Well I haven’t decided anything yet, just considering my options. At my ripe age I’ve done quite well for myself so I wouldn’t mind a bit of time off. Maybe be a stay at home boyfriend while you study your pretty little ass off in your final semester.” He reached up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand around his finger.

“A stay at home boyfriend?” You scoffed, laughing loudly. “Stop.”

“What?” He laughed, amusement laced in his widened eyes, “we’ve got a son and two households to run, someone has to be around to cook and take care of the place.”

A son. There was something so heartwarming about Archie being referred to as your son, especially when Harry was being so casual about it. Like it was normal. Put the son reference and conjoining your two houses as one and well… that was about as committed as you could be without moving in together. Not that you were anywhere near that stage yet.

“One of those households has a maid, a gardener and a dog walker, I’m sure it’s just fine.” You rolled your eyes, “But if you want to take care of this place and feed me I won’t complain.”

“I’d be more than happy to feed you and fulfill any other needs you have.” He announced proudly, squeezing your hip before reaching in to peck you quickly. “Which reminds me-” he got out of bed, going to your table where your coffee and sweet treat were still waiting for you. “I got you these.” You shuffled up into a cross legged position, happily grabbing the two items when Harry sat back down on your bed.

“Thank you.” You sipped your drink, loving the sweet taste of it. “And thank you for driving all the way down here. It means a lot.” You tore open the paper bag, ripping off a small piece of the croissant and offering it to Harry.

“No no. It’s yours.” He declined, happy when you didn’t argue and at the piece. “And you don’t need to thank me. I love you, y/n and I wanted to see you. I always do” He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too.” You pressed your hand on his knee and reached in to kiss him quickly, loving the way his hand returned to your back to trace random shapes over it. “I love this by the way. I never thought I’d find a vest sexy but you look really good.” You traced over the v-neck of his checkered vest with your clean hand, looking up at him. You really missed him.

“Thanks darling. It’s vintage.” He smirked, wrapping his arm around your hip to drag you back to sit properly beside him. You felt a little dirty compared to him in his nice outfit, especially since you had been wearing the same clothes for days and desperately needed to wash your hair. Harry didn’t seem to care though and you really appreciated that. Washing your hair was a mission by itself. Add a panic attack and assignment stress and you couldn’t think of anything worse, even if the thought of a long hot shower did sound quite nice.

“I like it.” You took a big bite of your croissant this time, moaning at the taste of the chocolate filling. You slumped against Harry, happily chewing it while he rubbed your hip and kissed your head.

“Good?” He mused, sliding his hand just underneath your pyjama top to feel your soft skin.

“So good.” You nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m glad.” He laughed. A comfortable silence fell over you two, with small comments and conversation here and there. It was nice to just spend time with Harry, even if you weren’t doing much of anything. “Would you still be interested in going shopping?”

“Today?” You sat up properly and looked at him, both your coffee and croisssnt long gone and in your stomach.

“If you’re up for it. We did plan for today but there’s no pressure. I’m more than happy to change into comfortable clothes and watch Netflix all day. Truly.”

“No no. I could go shopping. We need to get ready for our trip, right?” You grinned, getting excited at the thought of a day walking around the shops and buying so many cute outfits for your trip. Secretly though, you liked the idea of Harry going with you more than the shopping itself.

“We do. Yes.” He smiled, happy that you had a bit more energy. Harry hated seeing you down. Any emotion except pleasure and happiness had him determined to fix whatever the issue was. “Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yep.” You climbed over him to get out of bed, stopping when you were straddling him. His hands found your hips immediately, unable to keep them off you. “I need to wash my hair though, so can you wait an hour? I’ll try and be quick.”

An hour. By that calculation you were doing your ‘everything shower’ and a full face of makeup. Harry now knew what that meant, but he was happy to sit around and keep himself occupied if that meant you were taking care of yourself. The concept wasn’t as relaxing as he thought it would be. It was more of a frustrating marathon of events where each one presented its own challenge. He made the mistake of wanting to join you for one of them, thinking it would be fun and you ended up kicking him out because you didn’t have enough space to shave the back of your leg.

If there was one shower he let you have alone, it was that one.

Harry chuckled and nodded, squeezing your hips then helping you climb the rest of the way off the bed. “Take your time, y/n. We’ve got all day.”

You managed to get everything done in just over an hour and then you and Harry were on your way to the city. You grabbed another coffee as soon as you made it into the shopping centre, then the shop-to-shop walking began. There were a few items you had on your list that you were aiming to buy, but for the most part you just wanted to try a bunch of stuff on and see what you liked. Harry of course was happy to offer his suggestions and his wallet which only seemed to get him more excited to pick things out for you.

“I was thinking…”

“Mh?” You hummed, buckling up the buckle on a pair of baby pink suede platform heels. They definitely weren’t Europe-appropriate, but you got a little sidetracked and with Harry encouraging you to try on everything you so much as looked at, it was easy to get distracted by anything that looked pretty.

“After your assignment is submitted Friday, why don’t we pack up your place and you can stay with me until we leave for our trip?”

“Harry I still have to study for two exams. As much as I love that idea, you don’t want me taking over your house.” You responded, standing up from the couch to test the comfort of the shoes. You stepped around them a little, walking to the closest mirror to have a look at them properly. “And I’m sure my parents would hate that I’m spending a week at yours instead of going home.”

“But you weren’t meant to go home at all, remember? Not until your exams were finished.” Harry coaxed, standing up from the couch to step behind you in the mirror and wrap his arms around your waist. You shivered slightly against him, still focusing on looking at the heels on your feet. “This time you’re close to home, close to Archie…” He hummed, sliding his nose up the side of your neck. This time you really shivered and your focus was taken completely away from your shoes. Not that you were thinking of buying them anyway. They were way too expensive but the allure of trying on Prada shoes alongside a man who already put aside a pair of sunglasses and a belt for himself was way too strong. “Close to me…” this time his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail right underneath your ear.

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, making Harry smirk at you in the mirror. Oh he had you now. Your body was becoming more pliant in his arms and you were leaning against him more and more with every passing second.

“You could study during the day and have Archie keep you company then at night I could feed you and help you… relax,” his hand flattened against your belly, causing the bold rings on his fingers to twinkle in the lighting. You had a sudden craving for those fingers to be in your mouth or further down south where he actually could make you relax.

“I’ll be studying all the time, Harry.” You weren’t sure why you were protesting it so much, not when the thought of a quick orgasm as your 15-minute study break sounded so delicious.

“And I’ll be right there beside you, working or reading or providing you with a quick… study break. Whatever you need, hm.” He drawled, kissing your cheek. All you could do was nod because you were so fucking dazed and way too horny in the middle of a store you couldn’t afford. “Do you like the shoes?”

“What?”

You didn’t even hear what he said.

“The shoes.” He tapped your belly, looking down at your feet. “Are they comfortable?”

“Oh…” You tried to snap out of it and stepped a little in place, feeling the shoes mould perfectly to your feet. God, why did you have to love something so expensive? “Yeah, they’re comfy but I don’t need them.”

“Nonsense. They’re baby pink, your favourite colour.” Harry grinned, pulling back to step in front of you instead. The fact that he called it ‘baby pink’ and not ‘light pink’ had you screaming on the inside. He grabbed onto one of your hands, holding it out between you. “Do a spin.”

You did as told and did a 360 spin for him, liking how your heights were a bit more even with the tall heel. Without saying anything more to you, he turned to the sales associate who was waiting patiently beside the couch Harry was just sitting on. “Do you have a matching bag to these? In a baby pink?”

“Yes, sir. We have a cross body and a shoulder bag.”

“Perfect. Bring them both, please.” Harry turned back to you, then suddenly whipped his head around to the woman before she could step away, “Oh, and please bring some sunglasses too. Anything you think might suit her. Thanks, love.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” You hissed, “I’m not buying anything.”

“No, I am. I like you in pink. Besides, isn’t a shoulder bag and sunglasses a necessity for a holiday?” He mused, squeezing your hips. “Let me spoil you, darling. For doing so well on your exams.”

“I haven’t even done them yet.” You blushed, protesting slightly while threading your fingers behind his neck. “You don’t have to buy me such expensive things, H. You’ve already gotten me so much today.”

“And? You deserve it.” Harry assured you, reaching forward to kiss you gently. The lipstick you applied before you left was almost gone by now. Harry could barely keep his hands off you and you didn’t really want him to. These quick, casual pecks and signs of affection meant so much more to you than anything he could buy.

“Thank you.” You whispered, threading your fingers softly into the hair at the nape of his neck to kiss him again. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby.” He kissed you again and then sealed it with another quick peck before using his grip on your hips to turn you back towards the mirror. “Now tell me you don’t love the shoes. I know you can’t.”

It was store after store of shopping. You tried to keep things concise to the list you brought of things you wanted to get, but just like the Prada shoes… and bag… and sunglasses, you were both easily distracted. You had more fun dressing Harry up more than anything. Seeing him try on complete outfits you picked out for him just hit the spot for you. You loved it.

And it had nothing to do with him looking absolutely delicious in every fucking thing. You picked out a bit of a joke outfit in one of the ‘younger’ stores as Harry liked to call it, styling him in something more skater boy than his usual refined, delicious European style and he still looked hot as anything.

Harry hated it of course, but he did like the graphic t-shirt and managed to style it in his own way with the pair of dress pants he had on. God, he was just so fucking hot. By the third men's store you brought him into, you were sweating. You couldn’t explain why it was such a turn-on to watch him open and close a curtain and show off different outfits or why a linen button-up much like everything else he has riled you up until you were clenching your thighs, but it just did.

You finally truly understood why he liked buying you things so much.

“Alright, last one then I need food. It’s practically dinner time and there’s a sushi train near here. I could demolish like twenty of those little plates.” Harry chuckled to himself and opened the door of the fitting room he was in. Upon revealing himself, your mouth properly dropped.

It was another button-up style top but this time it was entirely made out of white crochet squares. The design was fine and perfect beyond perfect and had so many little holes throughout the design, that you could see slivers of skin everywhere. Then there was the obvious sliver of skin. The top three undone buttons that Harry had purposefully left open to expose his cross necklace and littered chest hairs. The tails of his swallows were peaking past the edges and with particular movements, the moth became more visible.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Not sure about this one, love. ‘Dunno why.” Harry ran his hands down the fabric, looking at his shirt until he realised you hadn’t said anything. “Y/n?”

Seeing the look at your face, Harry could see exactly what your opinion was on his shirt.

“I love it.” You finally said, walking towards him so you could feel the soft lace across his chest. He smirked and placed his hands on your waist. “It’s soft.”

Just the feeling of the soft lace against his warm body was driving you crazy. His body heat was radiating against your hands and you suddenly craved it against your body. All this talk about ‘study breaks’ and being in the same house as him for an entire week had your head in a spin. You couldn’t stop thinking about having constant sex and how tempting it would be to have so much privacy for so long.

And this was before you two were going to have an entire month together. God, the thought of that… your vagina would never be the same, you knew that for sure.

“Mh. Comfy too.” He commented, shivering when you dug your nails through the lace holes to scratch at his chest. “So y’like it?” Harry’s head cocked a little as the attraction in your eyes quickly started to reflect in his own.

“Uhuh.”

You peeked around quickly to make sure you were alone and when the coast was clear you made the quick decision to walk him backwards back into the fitting room. Harry was happy to follow along with you, barely being able to ask what you were doing before you locked the door behind you and grabbed onto his face to kiss him.

Harry squeezed your waist and chuckled into your mouth, sighing softly against your lips while he kissed back. His arms started to wrap tightly around you and he was trying so hard to not moan at how eager you were pressing yourself against him and nibbling on his lip and tugging on his hair and fucking hell he was going dizzy.

You weren’t one to start things like this and Harry was enjoying every fucking moment.

“What are you doing, darling? Hm?” Harry mused, eyes fluttering shut as you tugged his head back by his hair to gain easier access to his neck. His fingers dug deeper into the small of your back in an attempt to ground himself. He had to be quiet.

“I need your cock in my mouth,” You whispered against his skin while sliding your hand down his chest towards his dress pants. Harry tensed immediately beneath you, nearly groaning loudly when your hand landed on his cock. “Please, Daddy.”

You started to palm over his half-hard cock which was very quickly hardening properly beneath your hand. Harry’s head tipped back against the wall and his jaw went slack. He could barely fucking believe what was happening right now.

What you were doing was reckless. Inappropriate and very much illegal. Giving head on a yacht in the open ocean didn’t exactly compare to giving head in a small enclosed fitting room where there were many more people around and any small noise would give you away.

To be honest though, you didn’t really give a fuck. You could tell Harry liked that.

You pulled back from his skin and made eye contact with him while squeezing him through his pants hard enough to make his eyes flutter. Reaching forward, you kissed him softly and spoke through soft kisses until he verbally agreed to have you on your knees before him. “Let me say thank you… please… I need it so bad, Daddy.”

Harry breathed heavily against your mouth and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck to tighten them in an almost warning way. “You’ve got to be quick, y/n. Unless you want to be caught.”

Something told you Harry wouldn’t have any issues being caught with his cock in your mouth.

With a quick nod from Harry, you began the descent onto your knees. But before they even bent, he stopped you. “Wait.” He murmured, grabbing his expensive vest that was hanging on the back of the door and then folding it in half so it was thicker. “For your knees.”

“I thought you liked it when they bruised.” You grinned, taking the vest nonetheless and putting it on the carpet in front of his feet. You slowly got down on your knees, looking back at the lock for a second just to double-check it was actually locked. It was thrilling to be in such a compromising position, but that didn’t mean you actually wanted someone to walk in on you two.

“Only when I can take care of you after.” Harry sighed, the sight of you before him enough to make him breathless. He tried to relax against the wall separating your fitting room from the one next door. It thankfully went floor to ceiling, so you hoped that would muffle most of the noise. As much as you could try to keep quiet, Harry was quite terrible at it and it was hard to give a proper satisfying blowjob without making some sort of noise.

Hopefully, the store’s music would cover it.

“You always take care of me. Now it’s my turn.” You looked up at him with a smile, sliding your hands over his thighs. He looked down at you, sliding his hand through your hair to push it back from your face so he could watch your facial expressions and every move you made.

“You look so hot in this” You complimented, pushing his button-up top up his stomach to expose his belly button and below. “You better buy it.” you leaned forward and licked a stripe from the button of his pants to his belly button, making sure to do it once more while you undid his pants.

“I will…” Harry assured, sighing out like a pretty angel just at the feeling of your mouth on his lower belly. “You like it so I have to buy it.”

“Mhmm. Y’gonna look so good, Daddy…”

Harry’s pants easily fell to his ankles once the button came undone. They were straight-legged and with his tight briefs pressing his cock down, they slid right down. Of course, the briefs didn’t last very long either and they soon joined Harry’s pants at his ankles.

You had no time to tease or kiss every inch of exposed skin like you wanted to. This had to be quick which was a shame when he looked so fucking hot standing there naked aside from the pretty lace button-up you wanted to keep on him. It was like sexy lingerie and it messed with your head much more than you would’ve liked.

“I only look good for you, darling. You’re the only one I want to… shit…”

Harry couldn’t even finish his words, not when you spat on your hand, wrapped it around him and brought him to your mouth without any fucking warning. You jerked him slowly with your hand, focusing on the base while you slid his head against your tongue. His hips bucked against your mouth at the feeling, causing you to choke a little on his cock and force yourself to pull back from him.

“You’ve got to relax.” You licked your tongue slowly against his slit, savouring the taste of his precum. You made a show of it too and closed your eyes to hum gently once it collected on your tongue. “As much as I love choking on your cock, it’s too loud.”

You were almost scolding him, reprimanding him for not being good and staying pressed against the wall. It was reminiscent of the first time you figured out you loved him, not that Harry knew it like that. Harry remembered the first shower blowjob he got from you as a bold move, not the craving for control that you desperately wanted at the time.

Now… you’d give up any and all control to Harry, knowing that you were really the one in charge. That’s how you two worked. You both had your limits and while Harry hadn’t really pushed them to the limits very often, he had the power to do so because you gave it to him.

And how he was putty in your hands.

“Don’t think I won’t get you back for this…” he shuddered, fisting your hair tighter when you brought him back into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him perfectly. All you did was smile around his cock while pressing the vein underneath his length back and forth on your tongue.

You were looking forward to the payback.

The longer you had him in your mouth, the less you started to care about how loud you were being. Harry was doing well to keep still, albeit practically trembling against you, but his hands were tugging on your hair roughly and he couldn’t stop the string of curses in place of loud moans he wanted make for you.

There was just nothing like the sound of male pleasure. Deep, guttural groans and whimpers, hushed lines of praise and degradation and pleads of your name. A loud curse when you clenched around him or a whimpered one when you swallowed around him like you were doing now.

Your hand was still wrapped around his base, fingers reached further back to press against his frenulum and apply pressure to his balls at the same time. You kept moving your mouth quickly and sloppily over his tip, swirling your tongue around his head where he was most sensitive.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n. God… your mouth.”

It was borderline blasphemy the way he used God’s name. The way he cursed and moaned it out because you were giving him one of the most insane blowjobs of his entire life. There was pleasure in all types of blowjob, but there was nothing quite toe-curling like having his tip sucked and flicked at so fucking harshly. Harry almost felt like he needed to squeal like a little girl.

And you were eating it up. Literally.

Sucking Harry off just turned you on to level 100. There was something about the shape of his cock… the weight of it on your tongue… his scent and soft skin, the way he was so incredibly hard for you and yet so sensitive and dainty at the same time. All of it. Add the dirty talk and the hair pulling and his nails scratching at your head like he wanted to force your head closer so you’d choke on him and you were practically a puddle in your jeans.

You wanted to touch yourself. To just dip your fingers in your underwear and touch the pain away. Just a little.

“Can I touch myself, Daddy? I’ll be quick, I promise.” You whispered, pulling off him to speak and catch your breath while you continued jerking him off.

Even on your knees with all the power in this situation, you still asked permission to touch yourself. Harry had to force his mind elsewhere to not prematurely cum all over your nice outfit.

“Do it. Make yourself cum f’me, baby. You’ve been sucking me so fucking good.” He praised, rubbing his thumb over your messy mouth. Your once perfect lipliner was all smudged now, leaving behind your pretty swollen lips for Harry to trace. He had a sudden craving to kiss you silly, but with your manicured fingers wrapped around him, his cock’s craving was stronger. Hungrier.

You nodded, bringing his cock to your mouth and bopping against it while you undid your jeans so you could slide your hand into your underwear. It was like instant relief the moment your fingers met your clit. You were soaked and slippery and so fucking horny you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to finish yourself off.

Harry was close too. You could tell by his heavier breathing and the slight twitching in his cock. You kept your lips wrapped around his tip and focused your attention there while you used one hand on his balls and the other to touch yourself.

The closer both of you got to finishing, the louder your noises became. You tried so hard to hide it, to keep your noises reduced to a sigh especially when you could hear people talking all around you, but it was pretty damn hard. Your one saving grace was the music echoing through the speakers, but you were getting so lost in the pleasure you didn’t know or care whether it was loud enough to cover what you two were doing.

“Shit, y/n. ‘M close. ‘M getting so close…”

Keeping your lips wrapped around him, you took his warning as a sign to jerk him faster and time your own circles on your clit with every movement you made on his cock. And it wasn’t long after his warning when you felt his whole body tremble against you. His thighs tensed and his abs clenched, his fingers stilled in your hair.

Harry had to bite down on his own fist to try and muffle the noise he let out when he finally came in your mouth, letting ribbons and ribbons of cum fill your throat until you had to swallow to make more room. He wanted to watch you take all of it and make yourself finish, but he could barely stand up straight let alone keep his eyes open to see the way you shook and squeezed your eyes shut when your own orgasm rushed over you.

When he nudged your head away due to sensitivity, you both seemed to collapse in your own positions to try and calm down from your highs. Your head tilted against his thigh and you just sat there for a moment collecting yourself before deciding to redress Harry. You two had been in the dressing room for way too long now and the post-orgasm clarity was starting to make you freak out about what you had just done.

You only got his button done up before Harry was picking you up off the floor and drawing you in for a heated kiss.

“God I fucking love you.” He murmured, kissing you over and over again while you giggled into his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, poking his chest. “We should do that again sometime.” You breathed through a laugh while zipping up his pants for him. You were a little in disbelief at what just happened.

“We should,” Harry smirked, reaching between you to zip up your jeans and do the button for you. “Though next time it’ll be you trying to keep quiet and we both know you have a harder time keeping your noises to yourself.”

“That’s so not true!” you scoffed, turning to the mirror so you could fix your hair. “I can keep completely silent thank you very much,” you couldn’t, not when you were with Harry anyway.

“You’re such a liar.” He laughed, shaking his head while taking the lace shirt off so he could put his own clothes back on. You watched him through the mirror, still overly horny and unsatisfied. Seeing his bare chest just made you want his cock in your mouth again. Or better and far more satisfying, inside you. “I can very easily prove you wrong though, I hope you know that.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and then without any warning felt Harry press his chest into your back while he wrapped his hand around your neck. Your eyes widened and you felt your head go dizzy when he applied pressure just in the right spots.

“I’ve been very generous to you today, baby, and while having my cock in y’mouth is a very nice thank you, I don’t think it warrants attitude, does it?” he murmured, making eye contact with you in the mirror while running his nose up the length of your neck.

Fuck me.

God, you wished he would.

You swallowed thickly, a little overwhelmed at how dominant he became in a flash. You had almost forgotten what it was like to have him so in control and so powerful. Since you got together he had been so soft and loving. The parts of him that would correct you and reprimand you when you broke eye contact or showed a hint of attitude had significantly softened. They hadn’t disappeared altogether, your sex and your life together was still playful and Harry was most definitely in charge, but with your lives being so busy and having so many things to work through, it was clear to both of you that things had changed.

You just hadn’t really spoken about it.

But you didn’t want to forget. You didn’t want Harry to think that he couldn’t push boundaries anymore or be rough with you just because you two were in a relationship. In the beginning you knew he didn’t want to overstep because things were so emotionally raw still, but now that things were good between you two…

You put it down to not having time, which was a big part of the problem. Still, you missed it.

“N-no…” You breathed, sliding your hand to cover the one he had around your neck, “No, it doesn’t.”

“Exactly. So?” He prompted with a raised brow, caressing his fingers up and down the sides of your neck with little pressure.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.”

The title slipped out easily, naturally. It was never going to be part of your lives 24/7 because that wasn’t your dynamic, but you two were clearly still playing and you were still in the high of sucking him off. It was just so easy to let go of all thoughts and issues when he took control like this.

“Good girl, angel.” He smiled, manoeuvring your face to the side so he could kiss you and look at you directly. You savoured the kiss, craving that closeness even when he pulled away to run his thumb over your lips. “Are you still hungry?”

You nodded. “Very.”

“Good.” His eyes softened and he couldn’t resist kissing you again. “Wait outside then, okay? I’ll get dressed then we’ll drop our bags to the car and go get dinner.”

“Okay.” You nodded again, wanting nothing more than to just cling to him and never let you go. Still, you did what he asked and cautiously slipped out of the room, thankful that the one person standing out there paid no attention to you or even Harry when he exited his fitting room a minute later.

It was decided during your dinner together that you’d go back with Harry to his house. After spending such a nice day together, you didn’t really want to go home. You knew you should’ve, especially since you still had one assignment to go before you could focus on studying for your exams, but you knew that you wouldn’t get anything done after the week you’ve had whether you were with Harry or without him.

And you’d much rather be with him.

When you got to his home, you wanted to try everything on again just to make sure you liked what you got in case you changed your mind. Fitting room mirrors can give you the best or worst confidence in the world and you always need to see things in your own house (or Harry’s in this case) to make a final decision. While Harry didn’t quite understand your logic, he was happy to sit in his nice armchair and watch you try everything on for him.

Harry found it quite adorable the way you analysed yourself. The look of concentration and slight furrow in your brow as you observed yourself from every angle. Harry liked everything on you of course, but he quickly learnt you still needed to hear it from him at least three times before you believed it.

“Okay, last one.” You declared, emerging from his walk-in closet where you just looked at the dress for a solid three minutes before wanting Harry’s opinion.

“It’s gorgeous. I love the colour on you.” Harry beamed, fingers laced together with his elbows resting on his parted knees. He scanned your body, thinking that this one was possibly his favourite dress of the day. “Makes your bum look great.”

“Stop.” You scoffed, laughing while looking back in the mirror. You were able to see it from the doorway of his walk-in robe, which was handy. “Seriously, though. You don’t think it washes me out?”

“No. I think it suits you perfectly. It’s different from other dresses you have too.”

You didn’t quite understand how Harry had the patience to sit through a haul like this. Your dad never did, even when you forced him to at least pretend to be interested and yet Harry acted like every outfit was the newest, greatest thing he had ever seen. If it were even possible, you loved him more for it.

“That’s what I was thinking. I wanted a few things that are a bit more unique, y’know? Even though I’ll probably end up wearing the same things all the time anyway.” You laughed to yourself, eyes focused on the dress. You tilted your body side to side, watching how the fabric flowed around you. “So you definitely like it?”

Barely a minute after his second assurance and you needed another. Harry would happily tell you how beautiful you are a million times if that made you happy.

“Yes.” Harry nodded, “1000%”

“1000% huh?” You grinned at him. He nodded with an equally happy smile. “Okay then. I’m satisfied with my purchases now and I feel justified.” You announced it like you were proud of the outcome, even though you didn’t buy a single item of anything that you tried on for Harry. He fucking loved it though. If you ordered him to buy you a new car or a $20,000 bag he’d do so in a heartbeat then need to fuck you because of how much it turned him on.

“Good.” Harry laughed, sitting back in his chair. “C’mere, baby.” He motioned you over to him, letting you step between his parted before he wrapped his arms around your hips. You smiled down at him, slinging your arms around his neck.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled, hugging you closer to him. “Are you feeling better after this morning?”

Your smile faltered and suddenly the happiness you got from your little shopping spree disappeared into thin air. It was nothing but a quick distraction, easily ruined by a reality check. You couldn’t blame Harry though. All he did was check in on you.

You nodded and started twirling the hair at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “Yeah… it was nice to have the distraction. There’s just been so much shit going on at the moment and I feel like I haven’t breathed properly for weeks. I just want to have a clear head for once, y’know? Just not think about anything.” you sighed, looking down for a moment.

“I can help with that,” Harry said softly, tilting your head up with his index finger so you were forced to look at him. “You know that right, y/n? I can give you anything you want…” his voice dropped an octave and you were instantly aware that he wasn’t offering a listening ear. Your breath hitched and your body completely tensed up in his arms, “...anything you need.”

“I know…” you whispered, unable to look anywhere except right into his darkening gaze.

“So let me…” he urged, “Do you want me to clear your head for you?...” he scanned your face, sliding the tip of his index finger from your chin down to trace along your neck. It was a trail of fire. Just the path of his fingertip was making you need to claw out of your own skin and he had barely touched you. It felt like he hadn’t properly touched you for weeks. “To take away all your stress and your thoughts… let you be completely relaxed?”

You were practically trembling in his touch. One hand was squeezing your waist and the other was trailing patterns over your neck and your collarbones, down to the modest neckline of your dress. You were dying.

“I can take full control if you want me to, y/n. You just have to say the word.” He flattened his palm against your neck, making you flutter your eyes closed as he enclosed his hand around it. He applied no pressure, just a loose hold to show you what he could do to you. For you. “I can be Harry or Daddy… whatever you need. Anything you need.”

The way his mouth moved at the two clear syllables of ‘Daddy’ had you sweating. He was giving you every choice, every option so that he knew exactly what you needed and wanted. So that he could take the reigns and let you sink into your submissive bliss.

You needed that more than anything else in the entire world.

“I…” your words faltered, even as you forced yourself to look at him. “I need you, Daddy. Please.”

Harry nodded, scanning your face once more as the side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly in the softest smile he could muster. “I love you and I’m so proud of you for everything you’re achieving, y/n. It takes a lot of strength and endurance to be as strong as you have been.” Now it was your heart that was trembling. “Now let me do it for you. You’re gonna be a good girl for me, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes-yes, thank you.” You nodded eagerly, wanting to sink into his arms so he could take the weight off your feet for you. If he could walk for you, you would’ve let him.

“Good. I want to take you back to Pleasing.”

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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g4rvez-r3id · 4 months ago

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Let Me Stay

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer have gone back to normal, somewhat. But it only takes one conversation to ruin that all again. All you wanna do is stay, but he won’t let you.

Category: Angst

Warnings: not really a happy ending, established past relationship, maeve arc, mentions of death and suicide, takes place during 8x17 “The Gathering”, mentions of 8x17 events, spencer being a lil sad shit, crying, reader was in a past relationship before spencer, it’s just really sad, let me know if i missed anything! <3

Author’s Note: here is part two to “when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light”! it’s short and sad 🤗 might make a part three???

part one

After helping Spencer, things were back to somewhat normal. You’d both bumped up from only talking on cases to the occasional small talk near the kitchenette or asking how each other’s days were going when you both were in the elevator on the way to the bullpen.

Everyone seemed to notice the change but hadn’t said anything to indicate that they knew. But then you’d heard Garcia gossiping about it in her office the other day to Morgan.

“Can you believe it? They’re finally talking again! Isn’t that great? Small talk can lead into something more! Maybe they’ll finally get together again and my ship will sail!” She’d fangirl and you shook your head with a small chuckle escaping your lips. (She was always so hell-bent that you two would eventually get back together).

Not that you didn’t agree with her, you always hoped you’d get somewhere with Spencer again. You just didn’t know when you could. He was still in mourning over Maeve and you knew he needed time to heal before dating again. You’d wait forever if you had to, unfortunately.

He still seemed quiet during most of the cases or would bury himself in his work to avoid feeling his feelings. And you couldn’t say you blamed him, because if it were you, you’d do the same thing. You have done the same thing. So, with understanding, you left him alone. And you were waiting for him to come to you.

And then you had that case in Minnesota. Your unsub was Peter Harper, he had stabbed women and pulled their tongues out pre-mortem. And you knew that him pulling the tongues out had some kind of significance to him. The disparate set of women victims was chosen at random until they discovered one connection between the women and it was that they all have a very strong on-line presence, their deaths telegraphed by stories in their own online blogs, messages or texts.

They’d finally found him at a public pool, ready to throw a woman in the pool and to wait for her to drown and when the team finally found him, he’d had a knife to his neck, ready to kill himself. You and JJ tried to talk him down off the ledge and told Peter he’d get help and that everything was gonna be okay. But then Reid had spoken up, telling him the truth and the total opposite from what you and JJ were saying.

Peter had killed himself shortly after that. And Reid walked off in frustration. You and JJ shared a look, wondering what the hell that was about.

You’d gone back to the office after filling out your paperwork. You were ready to go home, to relax and to wash the stench of this case off of you. And while you were packing up, you’d overheard Hotch and Reid’s conversation nearby. You knew Hotch was questioning his decision with telling Peter Harper the truth — that it wouldn’t get better, that it was gonna be hard to get help.

And when questioned about it, Reid’s answer was simple. “Well, Hotch, I thought the last time I was in a situation like this, I did exactly what I was supposed to. I told a perfect lie and that didn't work, so this time, in the hopes of saving someone's life, I tried something different.”

And then it was clear what this was about. Maeve. And you’d known that he still wasn’t over her. And of course, it really hadn’t been that long since she died, the wounds were still raw.

When you saw Reid abruptly leave the convo between him and Hotch and head towards the elevator, you knew to follow immediately. You’d worried a lot about him since what happened with Maeve. And you guessed that you just wanted him to be reassured that he had someone in his corner.

“Spencer,” You called in the parking garage and he’d turned around at the sound of your voice and could tell by his sigh that he was in no mood to talk with you but regardless he stopped.

“Look, I really don’t want to talk right now—” And you should’ve just left it at that. But you pushed, like you always do. Instead of walking away, you interrupted him. “I don’t care if you don’t wanna talk, but you know what you’re gonna do? You’re gonna listen.” Spencer crossed his arms, obviously in defense mode as you continued.

“Spencer, we have given you time. We have been there for you thick and thin and all we wanna do is help—” This time, he interrupts you. “Have you ever thought about the fact that maybe I don’t want your help? That maybe what I need is just a little bit of space?”

With that, he walked off.

And you’d officially had enough.

“Do you really think that you are the only person in the world who has lost someone?” You exclaimed and Spencer stopped in his tracks, his back still facing you. “Well, you are barking up the wrong tree because — newsflash, Spencer — you are not the only person who’s lost someone. When I lost—” You pause, not wanting to say his name. “I was… such a wreck.”

You gulp, deciding to continue, hoping your words were getting somewhere with him. “And you helped me, remember? I never would’ve gotten through that if you hadn’t of helped. And I pushed and pushed you away but you didn’t leave. You stayed. All I’m asking is to let me stay.” You walk over to Spencer and he looks down at the ground, avoiding your eyes as you choose to stand in front of him.

You bow your head, wanting to meet his eyes as you put a waiting hand on his soft cheek. You move his head to look at you. “So, let me stay.” He can see the tears forming in your eyes as you practically beg him. His eyes gaze over to your lips before quickly going back to your eyes.

“Please don’t shut me out when all I wanna do is help.” You tell him and instead of nodding and listening to you and asking you to stay, he walks away. Because if he stays any longer, he might kiss you. And you don’t deserve that. Not right now.

He walks away, leaving your heart in pieces and you in shambles. He chose his path, so you must take the same route and forget you’d ask him to let you stay.

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x fem!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid oneshot #mgg x reader #g4rvez-r3id

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privcharlie · 3 months ago

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Maeve: That you do and I suppose I can be.

📲 REAGAN -> MAEVE

REAGAN: what up hottie REAGAN: I still owe you dinner REAGAN: you free saturday night? @privcharlie

#jolly sailor bold (maeve ft reagan)#text messages (maeve ft reagan)#jolly sailor bold (maeve)#text messages (maeve)

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 2 years ago

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There's a 100% Chance I'm Gonna Marry You | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The team doesn’t even know of her existence but when Spencer can’t get a hold of her, he gets worried. Now he has no other choice than to tell his coworker about her.

Warnings: worry, guns, kicking down doors, mention of Maeve & Haley's death, fluff!

Author's note: I kinda love this like a lot???

Words: 3.4K

Spencer was happy. Considering the things he had gone through in the past ten years, no one had expected him to ever come back to his incredibly happy and constantly smiley self. No one had ever seen him so giggly and teasing his colleagues every single day.

If you asked his coworkers, all of them would say something different. JJ, Alex and Penelope all swore he was simply in love. Hotch and Rossi knew what was happening – years of profiling in their back pocket that would catch onto the tiniest signs and being his boss had its perks. Morgan believed he was just getting laid, finally.

If you asked Spencer, he’d simply shrug and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The truth was that he was in love, just like his female coworkers had guessed.

He had met her a few years earlier at a bookstore. The two of them had reached for the exact same book at the exact same time, causing their hands to bump. Apologies floated through the air, followed by their awkward giggles when their eyes locked. Spencer offered to buy her the book that day and she insisted they read it together over a cup of coffee. Of course he didn’t decline, and neither did he alert her that he read as fast as lightning. For her, he’d read at her pace.

Ever since that day, the two of them had been hanging out non-stop at bookstores, coffee shops, and eventually at each other’s apartment. It took them a good six months before finally sharing a searing kiss that sealed their relationship.

That kiss was about a little over a year ago and now, the two of them were living together. Albeit, she kept her old address, with the help of Hotch who had called in favor, just to throw anyone that snooped into their personal affairs off.

Without any of his colleagues knowing.

At first, he didn’t want their relentless teasing, but then he was reminded of how the BAU’s family and partners were put in constant danger over being even slightly connected to them. Spencer almost wanted to break up with her over it, just to keep her safe. And they did, for a good week, until Spencer realized he couldn’t live without her.

She was fine with being his little secret. Though sometimes, she wanted to get to know his colleagues after all the stories she heard from him. The gruesome details about those stories, however, she’d rather forget immediately.

That was why the two of them kept in touch as much as they could during his cases. Quick phone calls, just to check in with one another, constant text messages, … There was never a moment where the two of them didn’t hear from one another.

When one day she didn’t answer him, he grew immediately worried.

That day had started early for Spencer. He'd been woken up at five am by a call from JJ, telling him to come into work as soon as he could, but not to bring a go-bag. Her eyes had fluttered open ever so slightly, but he shushed her and kissed her forehead.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered and tried to pull away, but her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him back.

The girl whined and though her eyes were closed, her lips were pursed. “Gimme kiss first.”

Chuckling, Spencer leaned down and kissed her on the lips sweetly. “I love you.”

“Mmh, love you too. Come back to me in one piece, Doctor Reid.”

She tugged at the duvet to cozy up and doze off again. For a couple seconds, he watched her with a tender smile plastered on his face. He hated leaving the girl he loved behind. He’d much rather cuddle up to her underneath the covers.

“I promise,” he whispered and kissed her head again before finally turning on his heel and walking out the apartment. It was always with a heavy heart that he left the apartment, but his mind was quickly occupied by the case at hand.

It wasn’t until 10am when he received a text from her. The initials “L.G.” flashing onto his screen. It was her contact name that she had added. It stood for Lover Girl, she had told him, while putting his contact name as P.B.; Pretty Boy.

L.G.: I actually slept until now. Got any statistics on that, Doctor?

A smile took over his entire face. She often asked him for any statistics about whatever she was thinking about. It was her favorite thing to do, listening to him ramble off facts and statistics, which was why she’d asked for it. Even if it was merely through text.

P.B.: 55% of people oversleep at least once a week and 75% of those have missed work. A little over 30% said they oversleep once a week and 24% do it multiple times a week.

He waited a minute, she usually answered within a couple minutes and he and Morgan were waiting for their colleagues to compile their theories anyway. When her message popped onto his screen, he couldn’t help but smile even wider.

L.G.: You never disappoint. – Thank GOD for bank holidays. ;-)

Spencer chuckled before starting to type up a response.

P.B.: What are you up to today?

Before her reply came in, their colleagues filed into the briefing room where he and Morgan resided. He quickly chucked his phone in his pocket and focused on what his coworkers were saying. It took a couple of minutes as they put their heads together and piece together some of the evidence they had found.

“Morgan, Reid, I’m gonna need you to go to the apartment building and ask around if anyone has seen Peter in the hallways that night. Alex and Rossi, you’re on the new crime scene. JJ and I will head to the M.E.”

Everyone nodded at their assignments before they got up and filed out of the briefing room. As Spencer followed Morgan out to the SUV, he grabbed his phone to check her message she had sent.

L.G.: Just going to run some errands. Do you need anything from the grocery store?

P.B.: Can you get me some of those rice crispy treats, please, angel?

He put his phone back in his pocket before turning to his coworker next to him, who was sneaking glances at him whilst driving. “I do still wonder who you’re always texting with that dopey smile on your face.”

Spencer coughed. “My-my mom.”

“Are you ever gonna tell me the truth?” Derek asked, his thick brows raised. There was no answer at the top of that genius brain of his, so he simply grimaced and nodded his head.

The two of them focused back on the case and went door to door at the apartment building, asking everyone if they had seen who they were looking for. None of them were much help and when they were done interviewing the inhabitants, one hour had passed. On the way back to the car, Spencer checked his phone again, but no messages from his Lover Girl this time.

He frowned and sent her another text.

P.B.: Back from the store yet, L.G.? Did you remember my rice crispy treats?

It wasn’t usual for her to take this long to reply, especially when she had a day off. Her phone’s sound was always on and she had it closeby at every moment. Worry settled on his chest. He couldn’t act on the anxieties swirling around in his mind as he couldn’t just rush home mid-case.

When there was no answer another hour later, Spencer knew something was up. He tried to call her when he and Morgan were waiting on the rest of the team to regroup, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Hiya! You just missed me, but leave a message and I’ll call you back when I can.”

The sound of her voice calmed him down a little bit, but the fact that it was her voicemail only made his worry grow. Two steps forward and one step back, it felt like.

“You okay, Reid?” Morgan asked when he noticed his coworker in distress.

Spencer internally groaned at the fact he couldn’t tell Morgan what was stressing him out because he had decided to keep his girlfriend a secret. Especially at a moment like this when there could be something wrong with her. For all he knew, she could be hurt. The exact reason for keeping her a secret in the first place.

“Uhm, yeah,” he lied. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

It was crystal clear that Morgan didn’t believe his coworker but with the height of the case nearing, he decided not to press any further. It was only hours later, when they closed the case, and Spencer was clearly spiraling that he decided to ask further.

“Reid, seriously, what’s going on?” he asked when Spencer hung up his phone for a fifth time, not getting the answer he wanted.

Spencer sighed and chucked his phone in his pocket, his hands trembling as he did so. “I-I need to go home. Something’s wrong.”

“With your mom?” Morgan asked as he watched Spencer rush out the BAU. The resident genius didn’t even bother to answer, which left Morgan with no other choice than to simply follow behind him. “Hey, Reid!” he called when he caught up to Spencer near the SUV. With furrowed brows and trembling hands trying to unlock the car, the younger man looked up. “Let me drive.”

And with that said, Derek and Spencer got into the car and drove off to Spencer’s apartment. Derek wasn’t even sure what he was in for, but he trusted Spencer enough to follow him blindly. The two of them entered Spencer’s apartment building and rushed up the stairs to apartment 23.

A scream echoed through the door and reverberated in Spencer’s chest, causing his heart to plummet to his stomach. Derek and Spencer both reached for their guns, ready to shoot whoever’s hurting this screaming person. Another scream came from inside and Derek quickly and swiftly kicked down the apartment door.

Another scream, but this time because of the sudden disruption. Once Spencer was certain there was no immediate danger, he holstered his weapon, as did Derek. His eyes scanned over his girlfriend. She had her hair scraped back into a messy bun, an old CalTech shirt of his that reached just beneath her bum and underneath it the tiniest of shorts that were barely visible.

Once her heart had calmed down from the near-heart attack, she tugged the earphones out of her ears. “Fucking hell, Spence, way to give a girl a heart attack.” She threw a cushion from the couch at him.

“Me?! You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts! I thought you were kidnapped,” he argued before stalking up to her and taking her into his arms into a much-needed hug.

She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I’m sorry, I was too wrapped up in that new Taylor Swift song and singing along.”

“Ah, that was the screaming about,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Spencer whispered and kissed her head before remembering there was someone else in the room. Coughing, he looked up at his coworker and only slightly let go of her, keeping an arm around her shoulders.

“So, you’re ready to tell me the truth now?” Derek asked, a smirk on his face.

Spencer smiled down at the girl. “Morgan, this is y/n, my… girlfriend.”

The girl reached out a hand for him to shake and Derek did, but not without eyeing her up and keeping that teasing demeanor. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Spence has told me so much about you.”

“Wish I could say the same about you, but unfortunately, Boy Wonder never mentioned you once,” he told her, chuckling. “How did you keep this a secret from all of us?”

Spencer shrugged. “I thought it would be better to keep our relationship a secret from everyone to keep her safe. We all know what happened to Haley, I don’t–” He inhaled sharply, unable to get the words across his lips. Noticing his sudden tensed shoulders, she interlaced her fingers with the ones on the hand on her shoulder, squeezing them reassuringly. “She kept her old address, just so no one could trace her back to me. Only Hotch and Rossi know.”

“I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances,” she told him, gesturing to her appearance.

“Shut up, you look cute,” Spencer reassured her and kissed her temple again.

The smile never left Derek’s face as he looked at the sight in front of him. “I’m happy for you, Reid, you know that, right?” he asked happily, a hint of pride in his tone that caused her insides to grow mushy.

From Spencer’s stories, she could tell the team cared about him a lot, but hearing it in real life and seeing it in Derek’s eyes and face meant the absolute world to her. She knew he was safe whenever he was with them, she knew she didn’t have to worry too much when he was out at work. They would protect him no matter what.

Sensing Derek wanted to talk to Spencer alone, she excused herself and removed herself to the bedroom where she looked for something more appropriate to change into. All while keeping an ear on the conversation between the two coworkers.

“I know,” she heard Spencer mumble. “I’m just scared, you know? She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and I don’t want that to be taken away from me… again…” Heat crept to her cheeks as she listened to her boyfriend talk about her.

“I get that,” Derek said. “She’s important to you – she’s family. Family of yours is family of ours, Reid. You don’t want anything to happen to her, and neither do we. We’d do anything in our power to protect her.”

“Like we did Haley and Maeve?”

She knew all about Maeve and Haley. Spencer had explained everything to her. It scared her to death that something like that could happen to the family of the BAU agents as much as it scared her something terrible could happen to Spencer.

“You know that was out of our control, Reid,” said Morgan.

A short silence fell and she knew Spencer inhaled deeply before continuing. “I know, but what if the same thing happens to her? I can’t lose her, Morgan. I wanna keep her safe, out of harm’s way.”

“Don’t you think your best shot at keeping her safe is to have us informed about it? At least then, we can keep her safe and help you protect her,” he explained and she couldn’t help but agree with her. With her heart a little heavier and her outfit changed into jeans and a top with her hair down, she walked out into the living room.

“He’s right though, baby,” she mumbled, capturing the boys’ attention.

Spencer sighed, “Y/N.” He shook his head.

“Don’t “y/n” me, Spencer. Your little family sounds amazing and I wanna be part of that, too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her head against his chest. “I know you wanna protect me, but don’t you think we both got a better chance if we got them in our lives, too?”

Another sigh heaved Spencer’s chest, causing her head to move along with it. “Okay, you’re probably right.” He kissed the top of her head before looking at Morgan again. “Text everyone to come over here for dinner.”

“We don’t have enough food for that many people, honey,” she gasped, almost in a panic.

Spencer shrugged. “We’ll order Chinese.”

Within half an hour, the entire team had arrived at Spencer’s, one by one getting acquainted with the one he had kept secret for so long. Neither one knew why they were invited to apartment 23 but when they did find out, their reactions melted y/n’s heart.

First, it was Penelope. The chirpy, colorful blonde she had heard so much about.

“What’s the emergency? Are you okay, Reid? I–” she stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on the girl beside the resident genius. “Who–Wha–” she stumbled over her words, her brain short-circuiting.

With a smile, she reached out her hand to shake Penelope’s. “Hi, I’m y/n.”

“Reid’s girlfriend,” the brunette that had come up behind her moments after, deducted.

Penelope’s eyes widened before taking the girl into her arms. “Oh, my God! I knew it! I knew our Boy Wonder was in love!”

Giggles filled up the apartment. Spencer and y/n couldn’t help but lock eyes, happy this was the reaction from his coworkers to his news. “Happy to meet you, too, Penelope.”

“Hi,” the brunette greeted when Penelope pulled away. “I’m Alex Blake.”

One by one, the team filed in, greeting y/n as though she was part of the family. With Chinese food scattered around the dining room table, the whole family sat, ate and asked the couple all the questions they needed answers to.

“When did you first meet?” The blonde y/n has come to be known as JJ.

Y/N glanced over to Spencer and took a hold of his hand, entwining their fingers in his lap. “We met at a bookstore, we were reaching for the same book–”

“Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver,” Spencer interrupted.

“That one,” she concurred with a giggle. “He insisted on buying it for me and I insisted we read it together.” Her nose scrunched up while her lips pressed together, remembering how adorable Spencer was that day, and still was.

“Damn, boy,” Derek commented. “Didn’t know you had game.”

“What do you do?” Alex then questioned, moving on from their meet-cute.

“I’m a primary school teacher,” she responded. “I try to mold and form these brilliant little minds to become something that somewhat resembles this genius’ mind.” She placed her free hand on Spencer’s head and lovingly squeezed.

A collective bubble of laughter spread through the apartment, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. She loved being around Spencer’s friends. They were lovely and brought out the best in Spencer. While he always had his guard down when he was with her and showed her his soft side, his friends brought out a completely different side in him. A side she had seen before, but never with people other than her.

For an entire night, the team asked the couple questions, told stories about Spencer even she didn’t know yet and she easily returned the favor. It turned out to be a lovely night that would be grafted into the couple’s minds for a long time.

“I enjoyed spending time with your friends,” she told him when they were cuddled up in bed afterwards.

As soon as they hit the mattress, their limbs entangled and her head ended up on his chest. While his hand trailed up and down her back, hers was drawing patterns on his chest. A position they had found themselves in almost every night.

“Mmh,” he hummed. “They loved you.”

She let out a giggle. “Of course they did.”

A laugh rumbled Spencer’s chest, reverberating through her head. It was her favorite sound and feeling in the whole wide world. She lifted her head from his chest to properly look at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling. From this angle, she had a perfect view at his sharp jawline, his curls sticking out here and there, and his long lashes fluttering to keep himself awake.

“Got any statistics, Doctor?” she then asked, putting her head back in place, right over his heart to hear it beat just for her.

She could feel him turn his head to look at her. “About what?” he asked.

“Anything,” she answered.

He sighed. A content sigh, one where you could hear the smile in his breath. “There’s a hundred percent chance I’m gonna marry you,” he muttered and kissed the top of her head.

A smile curved her lips upwards while her eyes slowly shut. Her body was completely relaxed, her heart fluttering in his presence. She could see their entire future flash before her eyes. Spencer getting down on one knee at the bookstore, her father walking her down the aisle while his friends and coworkers and his mom sat in the pews. She could see ten tiny toes and ten tiny fingers.

She could see forever with him.

“There’s a hundred percent chance I’m gonna say yes.”

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhh

Criminal Minds Taglist:

@boimlers-gonna-boimm @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds

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venus-haze · 2 years ago

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Kick It Out (Queen Maeve x Reader)

Summary: Maeve doesn’t date, for her own good and that of anyone she might be interested in. Teaching you how to kickbox definitely isn’t dating, even if the two of you do flirt every time you’re alone.

Note: Female reader with some references to being plus size, but not enough for me to designate the fic as such. No other descriptors are used. This takes place slightly before Homelander outed Maeve, but she still does a lot of internal shittalking about him. Hopefully I did well with her characterization because I’m already planning a follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Some references to homophobia Maeve’s experienced. Homelander vaguely threatens the reader to Maeve. Semi-public fingering, Maeve's kinda rough. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

It was a coincidence, really, when Maeve walked by Vought’s employee gym during one of the yoga sessions that was part of HR’s company wellness initiative. She’d forgotten Vought even had that, not interacting much with the corporation's rank and file on a regular basis and using The Seven’s exclusive gym to train. The employee gym was spacious, clean, and at that moment filled with dozens of Vought employees in a rainbow of athleticwear. Maeve could remember the old Jane Fonda workout tapes her mom used to put on in the mornings, how pleased she was with little Maggie’s rapt attention at the videos. You always need to keep your body moving, Maggie. It’s so important.

Her eyes scanned the group lazily until they landed on you in the middle of a stretch that made Maeve feel like that little girl staring at Jane Fonda in spandex all over again. She licked her lips, giving you a quick once over before anyone could notice. You would become target number one the moment Homelander got a whiff she was remotely interested in you. Her fists clenched at the thought of how he–and her own complacency–ruined her relationship with Elena. She couldn’t do that to you, not that she even knew your name, and she wouldn’t learn it if she could help it. She wasn’t that selfish.

At least, that’s what she thought, until somehow she kept running into you. An interview here, a briefing there, she wasn’t even sure what you did at Vought exactly. It didn’t matter. You clearly hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid, viewing your job as a way to pay the bills instead of the feverish devotion so many of its employees had. She started looking forward to seeing you, taking the opportunity to stand next to you when she could and exchange quips back and forth about how corny a promotion seemed or how weird the marketing team was.

Like clockwork, though, you’d be in the employee gym whenever the yoga classes were being held. She casually brought it up one day, asking if you were really that into yoga, or just taking advantage of the free classes.

You nodded. “Yoga’s nice, but I’d love to get into kickboxing or something. I’m kind of nervous to sign up for a class. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I can teach you,” Maeve said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think.

“Are you sure? That’d be great, but only if you have the time and everything.”

“Yeah, let me give you my number. It’ll be easier to plan that way.”

You handed your phone to her, and she quickly entered her personal number into your messages, texting a simple ‘Hey’ to herself. She hesitated a moment before giving you back your phone. Okay, this was for real. She was committing to it.

“I’ll text you later. I’m free most weeknights, so just let me know,” you said cheerfully.

A sour mix of excitement and regret clouded her mind until you left, and as she walked down the hall to the elevator, she thought she’d at least have a chance to at least convince herself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She was never that lucky.

“Uncharacteristically nice of you to offer to help out Y/N,” Homelander said, almost as if materializing out of nowhere.

Maeve balled her hands into fists at her side. Why did he always have to be lurking? Recently, he had been fucking off to god only knows where, sometimes for days at a time. Of course he had to be around when she finally made a move. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“Your heart’s beating like a racehorse, Maeve. You’re not that excited about just practicing some kickboxing moves, are you? I’d be a better partner than her, in that case. You and I are practically indestructible. Her on the other hand—it’s amazing how fragile humans are.”

Maeve remained silent, letting out a shaky breath as she refused to acknowledge his taunting.

“You think she knows her sports bra is a size too small? I mean, one downward dog and her tits are practically spilling out of—“

“Get a grip,” Maeve snapped.

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s just locker room talk,” Homelander said, a menacing smile plastered across his face. “Speaking of surprises, I wonder what Y/N would think if she knew this was all a ploy for you to get into those tight yoga pants of hers. I guess I can’t blame you. Not exactly my type, but with the way you can see her panty line through them, she’s practically asking for it.”

“Asking for what?” she asked, standing taller as she looked him in the eye, daring him to make his threat.

“Hit a nerve there, huh, Maeve?”

“Mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” he said abruptly.

She knew him well enough that it meant someone was coming down the hall, and he didn’t want them hearing a word he said. Scoffing, she shook her head as she walked away, trying to keep a brave face as she made her way to the elevator.

Storming into her suite, she slammed the door behind her and threw the nearest breakable object at the wall before collapsing onto the couch, her head in her hands. Fuck. She’d been too obvious, too careless, and now you were going to be on the receiving end of it. Keeping her distance wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’d only put you in more danger when it came to Homelander. As much of a Girl Scout as Starlight could be sometimes, at least she was willing to risk it all for Hughie, even when he was lying through his teeth to her about Butcher and Compound V. At the very least, Maeve could do the same for you moving forward.

Still, she decided she was way too sober for her liking, and dug through her cabinets to find a half-drunk bottle of vodka, wanting to escape the gravity of the situation she found herself in for just a little while.

The next day, she woke up a few minutes past eleven, her head pounding as she checked her phone. A few missed calls and texts, including one from you: ‘Hey! Homelander said you were sick. Hope you feel better soon💐’

Between the thought of Homelander being near you and her raging hangover, Maeve leaned over the side of the bed, throwing up into the nearby trash can. She got another text from Ashley, asking if she’d still be able to do her designated crime fighting schedule that night since she was supposed to team up with A-Train. Staring at the text, she grinned, getting out of bed to choke down a few aspirin and make her way to crime analytics.

The department’s office was depressingly dark, and the girl who nervously pulled up the schedule for the next few weeks looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Opening the notes on her phone, she quickly typed what days and times Homelander would be away from the tower. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do while she figured out how to take control of the situation.

Your kickboxing lessons with her began a little after seven on a Thursday evening. Maeve had asked you to keep everything under wraps, claiming she didn’t want everyone pestering her to train them. This was a one-off thing because you were friends. She was relieved at how your face lit up when she put it that way.

The whole arrangement made her realize how rusty she was at flirting with someone she was actually interested in, as opposed to the sleazy guys she’d bring up to the tower for one-night stands only to kick them out afterward. Training with you was great, you were eager to learn despite struggling to pick up some of the moves. She took the opportunity to stand close to you, putting her arms over yours and guiding your movements, her body framing yours. Sometimes her hands would linger over your skin, feeling how soft you were against her until she felt you shiver or heard your breath hitch. The physical, intimate closeness drove her crazy. In those moments, she wondered what your whole body felt like, your stomach and thighs surely plush beneath her fingertips.

Things came to a head during your fourth training session. Homelander hadn’t been at the tower for a day or so, and you were acting bolder. There was no way you didn’t catch her staring at the way you bounced around while Heart’s ‘Kick It Out’ blasted from the speakers you’d connected your phone to. She was sure you were doing it on purpose at that point.

“I think I’m almost as good as you,” you joked, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Bring it on!”

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood across from her on the training mat. Your stance wasn’t the best, but you were trying despite her dodging your blows with ease. Just because she liked you, it didn’t mean she was going to hand you a win. You were having fun, a smile on your face as she caught your lifted leg before you could really kick.

In any other scenario, she figured you could hold your own pretty well in a fight with a non-supe. You threw a punch which Maeve blocked without so much as blinking. One more time, you went for another kick, only for her to send you flat on your back with a thud.

She pinned you to the mat, the two of you silent except for your breathing. Maeve didn’t do anything but stare at your face, just mere inches from hers for a few moments. God, you were fucking pretty. Your eyes seemed to sparkle despite the harsh gym lighting, and your parted lips were almost calling to her.

“You win,” you said softly from beneath her.

“Do I get a prize?”

“Wanna get drinks after this? On me?”

She smiled, reluctantly getting up from on top of you. “Hope you have your credit card ready.”

You took her outstretched hand, almost surprised at how fluidly she pulled you up onto your feet, until you remembered she was the strongest woman in the world, after all. The fact that she was getting drinks with you was a plus.

“I know a few places in my neighborhood, if you don’t mind going out to Brooklyn,” you said. “They’re kind of dives, but they’re fun.”

“That honestly sounds perfect.”

“Okay. I’m gonna shower and change really quick.”

She nodded. “Take your time.”

As soon as you disappeared into the locker room, Maeve looked down at her costume, internally groaning. It was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. In all honesty, she missed having a secret identity, the small thing that separated her from the persona that Vought manufactured for her. Whether for sentimentality or foolish hope of a situation like this one, she’d kept some of her street clothes.

Glancing at the locker room again, she decided to rush up to her suite and throw on something that would afford the two of you some privacy. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the elevator doors to open before slipping inside and pressing the button for her floor.

When she reached her suite, she frowned at the selection of clothing in her dresser. Touching one shirt, she felt a lump form in her throat. The somewhat coarse fabric sent memories rushing back, she’d worn it on one of her last dates with Elena, before she handed her whole life over to Vought and Homelander sunk his hooks into her. There was a slight stain on the sleeve, evidence of Elena’s wine glass that had tipped over when some asshole decided to make it clear that he didn’t approve of their date, so he had to make it the whole restaurant’s problem. When he started becoming aggressive, Maeve grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him over, knocking him into at least three other tables with the sheer force she used. That was the catalyst for her initially fake relationship with Homelander, as Vought’s marketing team decided it would improve her image after the incident.

She exhaled, shaking her head as she tried grounding herself. Things could be different with you. She’d take back control of her life—from Vought, from Homelander, from her own self-sabotage. Her outfit choice for the kind-of-but-not-really date was simple. She ran her fingers through her signature styled waves, messing her hair up a bit to make her less recognizable. Seeing herself in the mirror, she smiled. For the first time in months, she looked and felt like herself.

Her phone buzzed, and to her relief, it was a text from you.

‘Hey! Ready to go when you are🍻’

Biting her lip, she retyped her response to you three times before sending, ‘Great be down in a min😄’

She instantly regretted her choice of emoji, but it didn’t matter, something that simple wasn’t going to ruin her night. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she was asked out by someone she actually liked. You hadn’t explicitly said it was a date, but the tension was there, and Maeve hoped to god she wasn’t reading too much into things.

You were waiting in the gym for her, now changed back into your work clothes of a blouse and skirt. In the meantime, you had pulled up the info for some of the bars that you and your friends frequented in your neighborhood. She looked over them quickly, settling on a 70s-themed one you recommended based on the decor and cheap burgers. Her mind raced while the two of you walked down the hall and to the elevator, deciding to leave through a service corridor rather than the building’s main floor.

As the elevator made its descent to the lower levels of the building, Maeve figured she at least owed it to you to let you know what you were getting yourself into. She’d already put you at risk with the amount of time she was spending with you. You looked at her in confusion when she pressed the emergency stop.

“You know this isn’t just drinks, right?”

You smiled a bit, “What is it then?”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Maeve, can you just be real with me instead of the cryptic shit?”

“Fuck," she groaned. "Okay, look. I’m into you, but Homelander’s a jealous son of a bitch who won’t let me have a life, so the fact that we’ve been spending time together and going out for drinks means you’re in serious danger.”

You were quiet for a few moments. She took your silence as an understandable rejection, moving to press the emergency stop button to bring you back up until you spoke.

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Are you sure? Y/N, Homelander won’t hold back. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but–”

You looked at her, really looked at her, as she laid out the risks for you clear as day. It didn’t matter. You’d come to the conclusion pretty quickly that she was worth it. She was Queen fucking Maeve for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, though, you were into her too, and you’d never forgive yourself for passing up the opportunity to go out with her and see where things led.

As she was in the middle of listing ways Homelander could kill you, you interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips, enough to startle her out of her rant for a moment. That seemed to get the message through, because she kissed you, backing you into the elevator wall across from the closed doors.

You parted your lips for her, happy to let her take the lead as she cupped your cheek in her hand, her fingers pulling your face closer to her. Even though she’d just pinned you to the floor less than an hour earlier, you were taken aback by how strong she was. She bit gently on your bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it before kissing you again.

Groping one of your breasts through your blouse, she moved her hand further down your body until she reached your thighs, her fingers gently tracing undistinguishable patterns into your skin. You could feel her start to play with the hem of your skirt before sliding her hand beneath it.

You whispered a soft “yes” against her lips when her fingers brushed against the damp spot on your panties. Pressing her fingers against your core, she watched your face contort in pleasure as you whimpered for more.

It felt like eternity before she finally pushed her hand past the cotton material and began teasing your clit, ignoring your aching pussy. She pressed hot, open kisses against your skin before settling on the crook of your neck, biting into the tender skin so hard you almost thought it would break.

“Maeve, fuck,” you moaned.

“Too hard?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Harder.”

Maeve grinned, slipping her index and middle fingers into your pussy, and you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. She didn’t care, curling her fingers inside you, pumping them in and out until your breath caught in your throat. You gasped as you gripped her shoulders, trying to keep your legs from giving out from under you. Using her other hand, she held you up by your thigh, her fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

You leaned your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as she began rubbing her thumb against your clit, bringing her attention back to it as your pussy clenched around her fingers. She brought her lips to your ear, her teeth grazing your earlobe before she whispered, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“I’m close,” you barely managed to say.

“Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you,” she said, her voice raspy as she squeezed your thigh for emphasis.

“Fuck–fuck, I’m–”

You came on her hand, fully relying on her strength to keep you up as she kept fingering you through your orgasm. Pressing her lips to yours, you were hardly able to kiss her back as you moaned into her mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall behind you as you tried getting a grip on something.

Finally, she pulled her hand from your pussy, and the one that had been holding you by your thigh wrapped around your waist to support you. She brought her hand to her mouth, licking your juices off of them so casually you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. You kissed her again, feeling lightheaded at the taste of yourself on her lips. Still, you figured someone must have noticed by then that the elevator wasn’t working. You didn’t even want to think about anyone finding you and Maeve like that, especially if Homelander ended up hearing about it through the grapevine.

“My roommate’s working the night shift,” you whispered, your voice noticeably hoarser than before. “I’ve got beer at my place.”

“Fuck the bar,” Maeve said, kissing you again.

You let out a yelp that dissolved into a fit of giggles as she literally swept you off your feet. She smiled, pressing the emergency stop button, sending the two of you back down to the service corridor you’d be slipping out into the night from.

#queen maeve x reader #the boys x reader #queen maeve #maggie shaw #maggie shaw x reader #the boys #queen maeve imagine #the boys amazon #the boys tv

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 4 days ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Volume 2, Chapter 42

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I invite Jensen’s parents to stay when they drop me off at his house, but they decline, saying they’re driving back home in the morning. I persuade them to at least meet us for breakfast before they go and they say they’ll text Jensen the name of the cafe near their hotel. I thank them for the lift and then go inside using the spare key that Jensen made sure to put out after last night’s incident. I take a long shower before laying down on Jensen’s massive bed and calling Stella. She answers enthusiastically and demands that I give her all the goss, so I do. I tell her everything from the airport to the restaurant to sleeping under the stars and then tonight’s fiasco. I do conveniently skip over our shower escapades though, wanting a little just for me. She’s quick to call Jensen out on his actions and warns Nick that if she finds out he’s still talking to his ex like that, they’re over. Her over-the-top reactions make me laugh and suddenly I feel tons better.

Time passes fast as it does any time I’m with Stella and it’s midnight before we know it–after one in New York. We reluctantly hang up after she makes me promise to call her in a few days with another update. It’s only when I’m alone and the house is silent that I really notice that Jensen’s still not back. The house suddenly feels too big, here on my own and I realise that if I was to choose a future with him and agree to move here this is what every night would be like while he’s up in Vancouver filming or away at conventions. It’s not like I’m not used to being alone, I’m just not used to being alone in such a big space that still doesn’t feel like it’s mine. No matter how many times he wants me to call this place home, it is his house and everything around the room just screams Jensen. I can’t help but wonder what I could do to make it feel like ours, but any changes I think of seem wrong.

When the clock ticks over to one, I text him.

Hey Jens, You ok? Coming home soon?

When 10 minutes pass with no reply, I call him. Still no response. My heart sinks. In my mind there’s only a couple of options. He either went home with Maeve or he’s been in an accident. Not knowing else I could call to find out more, I try him again. No answer. I stand up and pull one of his flannels over my pjs as I start to pace. I text him again.

Message me pleaseNeed to know you’re ok

I chew on my thumb nail as I pace the room. As my mind races through increasingly dark scenarios, I make my way downstairs. Each step seems to creak in the silence. I switch on every lightswitch I pass hoping the light will block out the shadows of my anxiety and bring me comfort. In the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of water. It’s only when I see the waves in my glass that I notice how badly I’m trembling. I lean against the bench trying to calm myself as I take sips of the cool water. I check my phone every few minutes hoping for a miraculous reply despite my phone not chiming.

As the minutes continue to pass with no sign of Jensen my anxiety and anger climbs. Pictures of him kissing Maeve start to torment me. Overwhelmed, I hurl the now empty glass at the wall and it shatters. I instantly feel guilty, knowing it wasn’t mine to break. I collapse to the floor. My legs are stiff from all the trembling and holding up my weight. It feels good to sit down but all my muscles are still tense. It’s almost 2:30am when I call him again, still no response.

I carefully crawl over to start cleaning up the mess but a piece of sharp glass slices my palm. It stings, but it distracts me from my thoughts. Enjoying the silence of my mind I clench the glass in my hand. I feel the warm blood trickle through my fingers but I don’t lossen my grip. When it becomes too much I finally drop it. It doesn’t take long for the intrusive thoughts to come rushing back in. I pick up a larger shard and hold the cool material on my wrist, not cutting, just feeling. I hold it over the long-since faded scars that sit there. It’s been a long time since I’ve even considered it, but as I sit there imaging being cheated on for a third time, I can’t help but wonder what’s the point?

I sit up straight when headlights illuminate the house and tire crunch on the driveway. I try to quickly gather up all the shards as a car door shuts. Keys jingle in the lock and I jump slightly as the door swings open and shut. I keep my head down as footsteps approach. In my peripheral vision the imposing figure in the doorway transports me back a year and to my kitchen in New York. I try to clean up the mess faster, apologising breathlessly. I only stop when Jensen crouches next to me and makes me with his hands on my wrists.

“What the hell are you doing? Look at you. Stop!” I hang my head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I try to pull away, but as I do I land back in the glass and a shard digs into my bare thigh. “Shit. Darlin’, stop. It’s me.”

I force myself to look up at his face and the images of him and Maeve return. Anger overtakes the fear and I rip myself out of his grip. “Don’t touch me!” He holds his hands up in surrender.

“Okay. I won’t touch you, but please Darlin’ stop hurting yourself. You’re bleeding, I just wanna help.”

“Yeah? Like you’ve been helping Maeve?”

“What?” His expression drops. “No, it’s not like that. I didn’t–I’d never. You said you trusted me?”

“I thought I could, but…”

“Please, let me help you then I’ll explain everything.” I shake my head as he reaches out again. He nods, stands up and walks away. I sigh, but then he returns with my running shoes from this morning and places them on the floor beside me. I slip them on and carefully get up. I hobble over to the sink and rinse my hands. The water runs red and my skin stings. Jensen places a first aid box on the bench and opens it. “Please, let me help.” Reluctantly, I hold out my wet hands. He carefully dries them with a paper towel, removing any remaining glass before rubbing them with a cool antiseptic cream and wrapping them tightly. He then crouches and does the same to my thigh and knees that until now I hadn’t even realised were bleeding.

He stands up and look at me with tears running down his cheeks. “Did–Did I–Did you do this because of me? Because you thought–”

I look down. “I’m sorry.”

He puts his hand on my chin and tilts it up. “Don’t. This is not your fault.” He looks around and then back at me. “I’m gonna fix this. I promise. I’m gonna clean this up and I’m gonna fix us. I–I can fix this.”

I watch his lips move but I can barely hear his words. I whisper over and over, “I’m sorry.” Trying desperately without the energy or right words to apologise for making a mess, breaking his stuff, ruining his night, not trusting him, not being strong enough, and most of all for not satisfying him.

A dull yet incessant buzzing rumbles through the room pulling me awake. I glare over in the direction of the noise and see Jensen’s phone moving against the bedside table where it’s plugged in. He grumbles and rolls over, pulling his arm out from under my head.

“Mornin’ Mom…Oh…She didn’t…Yeah…I got in late…We’ll see you in a few days…Yeah, I know…Sorry, Mom… Yep, love you too.” He hangs up and flops back onto the bed, hiding his face in the pillows. Then he rolls back to look at me. He gently lifts my wrapped hand to his lips. “Can we talk?” I nod and roll a little so we’re facing each other. “Was this deliberate? Were you trying to self-harm?”

I shake my head. “Not initially. But…I called you.” As I look at his face I notice dark bruises forming, one beside his left eye and one on his chin. I lift my hand to brush against the deep purple mark on his chin. “What happened?”

“Things got a little out of hand after you left. A little too much whiskey, the wrong words, a bit too much testosterone and unfinished business. Gav said some things, I said some things…words and actions were shared that I’m sure we both regret. Once they finally got us off each other and threw us out, I helped take some stuff back to Theresa’s place to work off the adrenaline.”

“Maeve’s place?” I ask cutting him off, he nods. “And?” I look over his messy appearance. “Was she there too? Did you…?”

He looks up, his eyes apologetic. “No. Y/N, you have no reason to believe me but, I would never do that to you. I swear I didn’t. She helped clean me up and get me sober, but that’s it.”

I nod. Tears are sliding down his cheeks and I believe him. “I was worried about you. But…I also couldn’t help but think–”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I know why you’d think that–”

“I called and texted and you didn’t answer and I just thought…You were either hurt or dead somewhere on the road or–or in her bed. And in my messed up mind I didn’t know which would hurt more. Either way I thought I’d lost you.”

He pulls me into his arms and kisses my head. I don’t pull away. “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here. And you’re all I want.”

After a few minutes, I pull back and sit up. “This is a start but…You’re not forgiven. Last night took me too far back to place and person I don’t want to be anymore. But I know I can’t blame it all on you. Maeve got in my head and no matter how hard I try those doubts and trauma will always be a part of me.” I climb out of bed, wincing slightly at the soreness in my hands and legs. “I’m gonna take a shower alone and then do a session with Dr Kate if I can. I think I just need some time to myself today.” He nods.

“So tell me more about what happened last night,” Dr. Kate says, her voice calm and steady through my laptop speakers. I'm sitting cross-legged on the guest bed, the door firmly closed.

I take a deep breath, and recount the events of last night: the waiting, the anxiety, the glass, Maeve. “I thought I was past this,” I say finally, holding my bandaged hands up to the camera.

“Healing isn't linear,” she reminds me. “What happened last night doesn't erase all the progress you've made. It's a setback, yes, but you can grow from it.”

I nod, though the disappointment in myself still weighs heavily. “I just–when I couldn't reach him, all those old fears came rushing back. I was finally letting myself trust again and then when I thought he’d cheated too…”

“That's how trauma works,” Dr. Kate explains. “It finds links between your fears and your current feelings. The fears will continue to creep in, but it’s how you handle them that’s important.” She shifts slightly in her chair, leaning closer to the camera. “What concerns me most is not that you had these thoughts, but how you’ll deal with them next time. Famous or not, Jensen is a grown man, Maeve is likely not his only ex. What could you do differently if this happens again? If you meet another one of his exes or friends or a jealous fan? Or if you don’t hear from him?”

I consider her words carefully. “I don’t know.” She nods but gives me space to think. “Breathe? Meditate? Have faith and wait to hear the full story?”

“All good options. The main point is: try not to jump to conclusions or take the pain on yourself. Everyone has a past and life happens and that’s not on you. The other important thing to do is talk to him about all of this. Tell him about how Maeve made you feel and how he made you feel and how that made you think when he wouldn’t come home with you and didn’t contact.”

“We spoke a little this morning, but...I told him I needed space today.”

“And I think that was a healthy choice in the moment. Sometimes we need time to think and process things alone. But eventually, you do need to have that conversation. Clear communication about emotions and expectations will become the backbone of a healthy relationship going forward.”

By the time our session ends, I feel a little lighter. More grounded and ready to face Jensen. When I finally emerge from the guest room, I find Jensen in his home office, papers spread across his desk and his head in his hands. He looks up when I enter, his eyes questioning but patient.

“Hey,’ I say, hovering in the doorway. He gestures for me to come in.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. I had a good session.”

He nods, “Good. That's...that's good.”

An awkward silence stretches between us. There's so much to say, but neither of us seems to know where to start.

Finally, Jensen says, “I was thinking maybe we could go out this afternoon? Somewhere quiet. Talk things through.”

“I'd like that,” I reply, then add with a small smile, ‘As long as your face doesn't scare the waitstaff.”

He chuckles, touching the bruise on his chin gingerly. “I deserve that…Uh…Well, I was actually thinking it might be a good time to show you my brewery. There’s plenty of space for privacy and no one can say anything about...you know…’cause I’m the boss.” I nod. He stands up and walks over to me. “But first. Can I check the bandages?” I nod and hold out my hands.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed, @ladysparkles78 , @nancymcl

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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friendly-witcher · 2 years ago

Text

Damn

just a small spencer x gn reader (I think, tell me if I missed something) ficlet about the first time you see him in his FBI vest. inspo was all the tiktok edits 🔥

word count: <1k

warnings: implied sexual themes set in the finale of season 7. bank heist + bomb threat with Lady X. established relationship with reader, who is a misc. scientist at the Smithsonian (yes I watched too much bones). this is a no maeve zone.

if you like this, I might write a few more with them :)

please be kind, my writing is my own, I do not own these characters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your boyfriend is hot, you’ve been well aware of this since the day you bumped into him in the hallway of your apartment building and every day since then. He’s tall, handsome, and has perpetually tousled hair, to say nothing of the fact that he is the smartest person you’ve ever met. He looks like a sexy professor straight out of a romance novel, yet somehow has no idea how gorgeous he is. All of this being said, you were not prepared to see him in your office wearing his usual dress shirt, tie, and his FBI bullet proof vest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ An hour or two before ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer had rushed to the scene after a bomb went off in the bank. He had sent you a brief text saying that he was fine, not to worry, and that he was heading into the city. This was the first time since you had been dating that a high profile case had been this close to home. So while you were used to being worried, this worry felt so much more immediate as you watched the chaos unfold only a mile or two away.

You stayed in your office trying to concentrate on tables and graphs, but your eyes kept drifting to the news live-stream in the corner of your screen. You heard a quiet knock on the door and looked up to see your colleague Renee eyeing you with concern.

“Lover Boy is on the scene isn’t he?” She asked, grimacing.

You nodded, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears that threatened to form.

Renee perched on your desk and took your hand. “He’s a highly trained FBI genius, he’s going to be ok.” You nodded again, rubbing your face in exasperation. “Let’s go and make a tea.” Pulling you from your desk. You resisted, motioning to the screen. “Watching isn’t going to help him, it’s only going to make you more stressed.”

“I’m bringing my phone.” You grumbled as you followed Renee to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Emily and Will walked out of Union Station, battered but unscathed, Spencer let out the breath he felt he had been holding in since Will had walked into that bank.

“We’re ok, we’re ok.” Emily held out her hands as you all rushed towards her.

“Thanks to Miss Calm and Collected here.” Drawled Will, looking at Emily with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "She defused a bomb in under two minutes without breaking a sweat."

“Well done. Both of you.” Hotch looked them both over approvingly. “You two go get checked out. I’ve got to debrief with Strauss then we are good to head out.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, patting each other on the back and inspecting their wounds. Spencer hung back and looked at his phone, “Actually guys, I have to go check on something…” not meeting any of their curious gazes, “I’ll catch up with you guys later. If that’s ok?”

Hotch nodded, dismissing him. “Good work today.”

“Catch you later, Pretty Boy.” Derek winked at him and turned to walk away.

Spencer looked back down at his phone at the message, “Please be careful, I love you.” You had never said that before. He had suspected that you did love him for a while, but this was the first irrefutable evidence. He smiled and started towards where he knew you would be waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Spencer often dropped you outside work or met you nearby for lunch, he had never actually been to your office. He came through the doors slightly out of breath, “Do you know where I would find Dr Y/N L/N’s office?”

As he strode through the corridors of the Smithsonian Institute trying to find your office he noticed he was drawing quite a few stares. Ignoring this, he finally reached your door. Where he found you with your head resting on your arms, a forgotten cup of tea beside you.

He knocked on the door gently and you started to say, “Renee I’m fi- ” until you finally looked up and saw Spencer standing in the doorway. Your face broke into a smile, “Spencer!”

Your eyes raked over him as he approached, unscathed, and damn. You had thought the men-in-uniform thing was a joke but looking at Spencer now you got it, picking your jaw off the ground you barrelled into his arms.

“Are you all right?” He asked, turning your face to examine your features.

“I’m fine. I’m fine now,” squeezing him tighter and smiling up at him. He looked at you amused and curious.

“What was that face? Was it about the text?” Concern marring his beautiful face.

“Honey, no! I meant that…I just…” you blushed, “I’ve never seen you in this…” your hands tracing across his chest adorned with the letters ‘FBI’.

“I did get a lot of funny looks walking over here,” his brow furrowed, “I’m sorry I should have taken it off. I just wanted to see you and forgot.” He shook his head, admonishing himself.

Looking up at him you continued trying to stifle a giggle, “Spencer, you sweet beautiful genius,” you said as you cupped his face, “They weren’t looking at you funny. You look, how should I put it, smoking hot. Like an actual real life superhero.”

It was his turn to blush and he tried to disagree with you, but met with your adoring gaze he stayed quiet and grinned. He gently pressed his lips to yours then met your eyes, “By the way, I love you too.” You kissed him again, smiling.

“Come on, let me take you home.” He picked up your bag and extended a hand to you.

“Yes please, Dr FBI agent.” Taking his hand and smirking at him.

“So I should wear the vest more often?” He asked innocently.

“Definitely.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #derek morgan #criminal minds x reader

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pepsiboyy · 1 year ago

Text

starboy part 4 (final <3)

P1 P2 P3 P4

pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo

summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.

warnings: some fluff, angst, LOTS of cursing, and bullying :p

lowercase intentional!!!

author's note: HIII sorry i took a few days to myself to like. play video games idk that's my excuse my bad yall but FINAL PARTTT yayyy

i took a deep breath as my arms were practically wrapped around myself. i stared at the star market sign and bit my lip, slowly stepping through the automatic doors.

i quickly made my way to the customer service counter, where i saw matt clocking out. he turned to me and his eyes immediately softened. "hey, y/n," he breathed, stepping towards me.

i smiled quickly and half-heartedly before taking his spot and clocking in.

"are you okay? you left real fast yesterday, and.. i don't know, chris said he tried to reach out and-"

"yeah, i fell asleep. i didn't feel good," i mumbled, biting my lip as i tried not to let any sadness show in my expression. i turned to matt and smiled softly. "sorry for leaving so sudden. i just felt.. unwell," i mumbled.

matt slowly nodded and smiled softly. "okay, if you insist... i just want to be able to be a friend to you, nick does too, and especially chris." he chuckled. all i could do was look at him, but it looked more like i was looking through him and spacing out. matt's smile fell as he sighed. "chris also mentioned that when you guys were sitting, he got a notification from-"

"damn, y/n is here again today?" maeve's voice rang as she set her bag down and practically shoved me to the side to clock in. "guess i gotta do everything around here today." she mumbled as she side-eyed me, and i bit my lip. i couldn't do this today.

"maeve, you can't talk to her like that, she's still learning." matt told her, softly but very clearly as he sighed and gathered his things. "y/n, if you need anything, or just somebody to talk to, please reach out, okay?" he asked, and looked at me for any form of response.

"right, yeah. thanks, matt." i breathed, and he smiled at my response before stepping towards the exit.

i turned to maeve and bit my lip as she scrolled through her phone and applied pink lip gloss against her lips. she was stunning, and i was a bit envious of her long, blonde hair. i closed my eyes and let out a sigh, looking at my phone. i was a bit surprised to see some messages from who i had been dreading to see all day, and who i had hoped would have left with matt.

from: chris⭐ hey y/n, hope your shift goes well

i shuttered as i looked up at maeve. what if she was actively texting him? i turned to look around the store the best i can, and i saw chris pushing some carts inside.

damn, he was really still here.

i let out a breath as i began to straighten up around my department, seeing as it was a slow day and maeve was no help.

i sat in the breakroom as i stared at the wall. no music played in my ears, and nobody else sat in the room with me. i simply stared at the wall for my break. i sat and thought about all of the glances i had passed to chris, and how many times i caught him looking back. i also watched him and maeve talk quite often, which would cause my heart to clench each and every time. it didn't make sense to me. why did he pretend to care so much about me when he clearly had maeve?

"hi chris!" maeve smiled brightly and leaned against the counter to be closer to him, who was just trying to walk by and pick up a box of items.

"hey, maeve," he breathed, and she practically squealed at him, causing me to turn my head the other day and practically wince.

"whatcha got planned tonight? did you wanna go out?" maeve asked, which resulted in some silence and a deep breath.

"i'm busy tonight." he mumbled.

my back was still turned as i went through another box.

"i'm taking my fifteen, maeve. i'll be back." i breathed before swinging around on my heel and shoving past them both.

and that was why i was sitting against this worn down couch, staring at the wall. it made no sense to me. none of it.

after about thirteen minutes passed, i sighed and stood up to begin collecting my things and getting ready to head back out.

the door swung open.

"y/n, hey can we talk?" chris breathed, and i turned to the sudden sound of the door opening. since it was silent in the room, it scared me a bit more than i would have liked to admit.

"my fifteen is up, sorry." i breathed and attempted to walk past him.

i felt a hand against my own, before i turned to chris and bit my lip. facing him was really hard. my eyes welled up almost immediately, and chris picked up on it very quickly. worry rushed through his expression.

"after we close. please?" chris asked, carefully letting my arm go. i slowly nodded before i pulled away. i stood for a few moments, looking at him, biting my lip and then walking back towards the exit.

"thank fuck. about time. what were you even doing in there anyway?" maeve spat, and i turned to her. this really was not the time for her to speak to me that way, and in fact, it never was the time. "i had to deal with literally four people when you were gone. all by myself. can you do something for once and clean the place up?"

i bit my lip as i stared at her. part of me wanted to confront her, call her out and tell her that she was no help and incredibly lazy. another part of me wanted to beat her ass right then and there, but the other part of me knew that if i started any work drama, i could potentially get fired and i should keep my mouth shut.

i took in a deep breath.

"i'll get on it," i replied, moving to grab a broom.

11:30pm. only thirty more minutes before i had to talk with chris in the parking lot. and only thirty more minutes that i had to deal with maeve any longer.

"y/n, these don't go here. god, do you do anything right?" she muttered as she pulled out a roll of receipt paper, and i stopped what i was doing. i carefully stood up and let out a soft sigh.

"sorry, maeve. nobody told me where those go." i responded under my breath.

maeve was sitting against the counter now, looking at herself in her phone camera and once again applying lip gloss to her lips.

i watched her for a few moments before going to grab a box. it ripped, and collapsed directly into my foot and caused a loud bang.

"ow, fuck," i breathed, biting my lip as i looked down at my foot, and then at the mess i had created. stupid box.

"y/n, are you kidding me? this just adds to the list of things we have to clean up. why are you so clumsy?" she asked.

i had enough.

"can you shut the fuck up?" i spat, causing her to cover her mouth in shock. i scoffed. "all you fucking do is sit there on your goddamn phone. i have done everything today, and you left me the other day. you haven't trained me yet you expect me to know everything around here. why are you such a fucking bitch?" i raised my voice, now visibly shaking with anger. my face was red, and i felt tears brimming my eyes. "i've worked like three shifts here and you treat me like this? name one thing you've done today." i questioned, and she visibly stuttered.

"absolutely nothing," a voice rang as i looked over and saw chris standing there. "she's done nothing but text me all day."

i cringed slightly. nice way to top it off.

"but chrissy-" maeve started, to which chris immediately stopped her.

"i told you to stop calling me that, it's annoying." he muttered before he stepped towards me and began picking some of the things up that i had dropped. my face scrunched a bit in confusion as i tried to piece together what he had said.

maeve seemed to hurt, but she put on a stupid face and quickly yet sloppily grabbed her things before she stomped away to clock out.

i took in a deep breath and sighed, looking over at chris who had now finished picking everything up. "thanks.. for doing that. you didn't have to." i mumbled, looking to the side.

chris didn't respond. he stood up and looked at me, smiling like a little kid. "that was fucking awesome, didn't know you had it in you to talk like that to someone, especially on the clock?"

i smiled shyly and looked down before rubbing my eyes and chuckling slightly. "she was just getting on my nerves..."

"she does for everyone, y/n. i promise. it's okay." he breathed, and i looked at him with a soft nod. "is your foot okay?" he asked, and i shrugged.

"it's fine, i guess. hurts, but i'll live."

"i'll walk you home." chris responded, very quickly, as i looked at him and smiled softly.

"whatever you say."

the air was kind of heavy, if i were being honest. it was hard to even think about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

"y/n?"

i turned to chris as he called my name, and bit my lip. it was time to finally talk about everything.

"can you tell me what's up? why you left so suddenly last night, why you haven't answered my texts, what's wrong?" he questioned, as i simply walked beside him and let out a deep sigh.

"i just..." i took in a deep breath. i stopped walking and turned to chris. "when i moved here, i thought i had nobody. some people would be excited for a fresh start, but i dreaded every moment here. i met you, matt and nick, and realized that things may not be so bad here. especially when i'm with you," i whispered the last part, looking down at my feet.

chris had stopped walking as well, looking at me and nodding softly as he listened closely.

"after we had hung out, i truly thought that maybe i saw you as something more, and when we sat together at your place, i kind of knew from there that i for sure had something more than just the friendly thought of you." i smiled softly, and he nodded, knowing where i was going. "i like you a lot chris, i did from the moment we walked together to mcdonalds and the feelings i had for you, i thought were mutual. but then you got that text on your phone from maeve, and-"

"y/n," he breathed, stepping towards me.

i bit my lip and looked up at him, and he immediately shook his head.

"no." he almost laughed out, and i tilted my head. nothing was funny to me right now. "i don't know how she got me number. genuinely. that's reason one as to why i don't like her. reason two, she's an asshole. and reason three," he smiled softly at me as he gently brushed a few loose strands of my hair behind my ear.

with a soft lean forward and a slight tilt of the head, chris had pressed his lips to mine. i closed my eyes and leaned into the kiss, smiling softly against him. he smiled as well before carefully pulling away and moving his hands to carefully grasp mine.

"i like you."

i smiled softly and looked up at him. as we stood on the sidewalk and stared at each other, i bit my lip and shyly looked down before wrapping my arms tightly around him. "i'm sorry.." i whispered, and chris chuckled.

he wrapped his arms around me and gently rubbed my back, carefully swaying us both. he rested his head on top of mine.

"don't be sorry. you had every right to be confused and frustrated." he gently pulled away and looked at me before he carefully took my hand in his.

our fingers intertwined, as we began walking again.

"let's get you home."

HIIII HELLO THIS WAS A SHORT FANFIC BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIEKD ITTTTT IT'S MY FIRST THING ON TUMBLR !!!!

i am working on a matt fanfic rnnnn it'll be so awesome sauce, go read the teaser if you haven't already!!

taglist;;

@sweetbabydoe @orangeypepsi @sturniolosreads

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo smut

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bitchinbarzal · 20 days ago

Text

Matt & Maeve got married (In Secret)

Maeve was in the middle of switching out the laundry when her phone lit up like a Christmas tree.

Morgan (14 missed texts)

Nurse Faber (3 missed calls)

Group Chat: “Wild Things” — 97 new messages

Her stomach dropped. That could only mean one of two things: someone got traded, or Matt did something dumb.

She tapped Morgan’s name first—and immediately got hit with a screenshot from the Wild’s postgame presser.

Matt Boldy: “Yeah, it’s a huge win. Gotta go call my wifey and tell her she was my good luck charm.”

Maeve audibly gasped.

“No no no no—”

MAEVE:

WIFEY?!?!?!

MATT:

It slipped!

I was excited!

I love you???

MAEVE:

MATT WE ARE SECRETLY MARRIED

Emphasis on SECRETLY

MATT:

But now you’re my wife!

MAEVE:

YOU BLACKED OUT AND BLEW UP OUR ENTIRE PLAN

Before she could even finish hyperventilating, her phone started buzzing again—this time a video call from Morgan. Maeve groaned and answered, already bracing herself.

Morgan was furious. Beautiful, stylish, and livid.

“You’re married?” she snapped. “To Matt? Secretly? For a year?!”

“In my defense—”

“In your defense? Oh, no. You don’t get a defense, Maeve. You are my sister!”

“I panicked!”

“Oh, did you panic when you signed the marriage license?” Morgan shouted. “Was the courthouse too intimidating?!”

In the background, a small, betrayed voice cut in “You had a wedding… without me?”

Morgan turned the phone to show Maisie in a glittery Elsa dress, absolutely heartbroken.

Maeve’s chest caved. “Maisie…”

“I was supposed to be the flower girl.”

While Maeve tried to calm her niece, another FaceTime call popped up—this time from Nurse Faber, baby on her hip, staring at Maeve like she just kicked a puppy.

She merged the calls together. Two angry faces staring at her.

“You seriously didn’t even tell me?” she asked. “I helped Matt pick out that necklace for you last Christmas thinking he was trying to propose. Not celebrate his secret wife.”

“I know,” Maeve moaned. “I’m a terrible person.”

“No,” Morgan said, stealing the screen again. “You’re a married person. Who lied to her sister.”

“Okay, technically I just… didn’t say anything.”

Matt finally called, his name lighting up the screen. Maeve answered with a flat expression. Thus adding another person to the call.

“Hi,” he said, eyes wide, smile sheepish. “So. That… kinda snowballed.”

“You think?” she deadpanned.

Maisie dramatically crossed her arms. “You owe me two flower girl jobs.”

Matt laughed. “Deal. One vow renewal, and you can pick the cake.”

Morgan stepped into view again, arms crossed like Maisie’s clone. “And you owe me the entire story.”

Maeve sighed, burying her face in her hands. “We got married in sweatpants.”

“YOU WHAT— Maeve I am a celebrity stylist please tell me you’re kidding”

#morgan and maeve #maeve and matt

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theoats99 · 4 months ago

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Thanksgiving - Simon Kelleher

Summary - It's Thanksgiving, and spending alone is hard. But when Simon comes to visit you don't feel so lonely anymore.

Word count: 2,347

Nots - I totally meant to get this out on Thanksgiving, but life and word totally got in the way of my plans. This does tie into my last piece Holiday Blues, just a few references.

Today is Thanksgiving, and I’m all alone. Janae is with her family, then to Meave’s, and Simon hasn’t texted her since his mothers party started. I’d found out that not only were some of the higher up politicians invited, but so were a lot of his family from out of town and state.

And here I am, laying on my couch with my cats, feeling every ounce of loneliness. My brother won’t be home till close to nine, so dinner is all on my shoulders, but I don’t feel hungry. The show currently playing is showing a romance, the two actors kiss and it reminds me of how Simon kissed me just two days ago. The fire in it, the chaotic need in it.

It’s currently three pm, and I’m currently four seasons into my binge, a successful day of being a couch potato I think to myself. I checked my phone on the table, but still no messages. I’d messaged Simon earlier in the morning, telling him he’d make it through the party no problem, but still he hadn’t responded.

So with a heavy sigh, and heavier heart I turn myself back to my show. But then someone knocks on the front door, and I feel my hair raise. I sneak over to the door and look into the peep hole, and I’m met with Janae on the other end. Once the door is open she’s all big wide smiles, and she’s holding a plate.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” She brings me into a hug, which I return gladly. “I brought you some leftovers from Maeve’s.”

“Thank you Janae, really. This is amazing, how was it with her parents?” She enters and I close the door, I unwrap the plate and it has all the stables of a Thanksgiving dinner.

“It was good with her parents, but her sister was kinda weird around me.” Janae shrugs, and immediately goes to the cats.

“Ahh, I see what you're really here for. You're using me for my cats, it’s okay I understand.” She laughs at me.

“Oh yeah totally, like I totally knew you had the cutest cats when we first became friends.”

“So, have you heard anything from Simon today?” I ask, she looks back at me and shakes her head.

“No, you?” I ditto her, and she frowns. “I’m sure he’s fine, you know Simon. He gets a little overdramatic, it’s probably going okay.”

“I hope you're right, I’m worried about him, Janae. He was so weird on Tuesday, just not really himself, even when we came back here he was different.” She raises her brows at me.

“You guys came back here? You and Simon had some alone time here?” She’s all smiles, teasing me.

“Laugh all you want Janae, but I’m serious. And does he know that guy from the football team? I think his name is Jake.” She gets solemn then.

“Jake? Yeah Simon knows him. Why?”

“Well, I was waiting for him by his car on Tuesday and I watched him talk to him for a bit. Do you think it’s something for About That?” Janae shakes her head again.

“No, I doubt it. They used to be really close friends. But then Jake drifted away I guess. That’s what Simon said, that he got super popular and Simon wasn’t so they just broke apart.” I frown too.

“That’s horrible, I wonder what they talked about.” I’m more musing to myself outloud than to her.

“Beats me, but I came to bring that to you and of course see the cats. But I gotta get back to my place. My family is coming.” She hugs me one more time before we bid each other farewell.

Once she’s gone I enjoy the food she brought me. I shoot Maeve a thank you text for the food, which she immediately responds to me with ‘no problem!’. Back to my couch and nearly done with my fourth season, another knock is heard. I check my phone and it’s nearly seven pm.

I again sneak to the door, and through the peephole I see Simon this time. I’m suddenly very aware of how little I’m wearing. In my sleep shorts, and large ratty shirt. I’m not ever wearing a bra, and I can’t imagine I look presentable.

“Y/N?” His voice breaks me out of my mind. I don’t even think before I unlock and open the door to him, like it's a habit, and I’m struck by the same thoughts of my appearance. Simon though looks good, he’s in a dark blue button up and dress pants, he even has a tie on.

“Hi.” I greet him with a smile.

“Hey.” He greets back, I close the door behind him. And he takes no time in weaving his fingers into my hair, and kissing me there. It’s the same as the other day, chaotic and messy. The surprise makes my head spin and I barely have time to register what’s happening before the kiss is over and he wraps his arms around me.

“The party was horrible, my family sucks.” He murmurs into my shoulder, his tone reminds me of a child complaining, and I still haven’t completely recovered from the kiss. I rub my palm up and down his back absentmindedly, and my slumps against me more.

“I’m sorry to hear that, it’s over now though. You made it.” He says something but it’s lost in my shoulder. He pulls back to look at me.

“I would have rather been here, I really tried to get my mom to let me skip it.”

“I know you did, but sometimes we have to do things for our family.” I reassure him, he’s not satisfied with it.

“I hate it.” I laugh at him, and it seems to perk him up. “What have you been up to today?”

“Absolutely nothing, I’ve been binge watching a show, and then Janae came by with some food from Meave’s.” He nods, I take his hand and we go over to the couch. “You look handsome at least.” I watch him flush a bit.

“You look comfy, the complete opposite of how I’ve felt all day.”

“I’m sorry, but you can be comfy now at least. This apartment is all about comfort.” I joked to him, he huffed a laugh before ridding himself of his tie.

“What are you even watching?” He scrunches his nose at the tv, an action I’ve always adored on him.

“It’s a crime show, my favorite.” He watches the tv. And I make myself comfy again under the blanket on the couch, I lift the blanket to indicate him to join me and he takes no time to scoot closer to me under the blanket.

Were touching, and it’s something I hadn’t considered. Having him under the blanket, I can feel the smooth fabric of his pants against my bare thigh, and it’s suddenly all I can think about.

“Did you have any fun at the party?” He looks down at me and shrugs.

“I mean there were some moments where it wasn’t completely horrible. Like I talked to some cousins, that wasn’t horrible.” I nod. “And I talked to some journalist, he was funny.”

“Well I’m glad you at least had some fun.” I smile, and he’s just staring down at me. “What?” I feel like he’s scrutinizing my entire being with the look on his face.

“It’s just I wish I’d been here.” I feel my heart trump against my ribs.

“I wish you’d been here too, but there wasn’t anything we could do about it.” I grab his hand and run my thumb over his knuckles to reassure him again. This time I see it coming when he kisses me, it’s soft this time and when I go to break it he won’t let go.

His grip on my hand tightens and he tugs my hand in his direction to keep me in place as he keeps kissing me, and I feel like how I did the other day. Like my whole body is on fire, and when we break apart I again feel like I’m out of breath as he rests his forehead against mine.

I close my eyes and listen to the tv to calm my racing heart down, I focus into what the characters are saying, the sounds of guns firing and sirens roaring. Simon seems content to not allow my heart a break, he brings one of his hands to my jaw and his fingertips travel the line of my jaw from one side of my face to the other. I feel my breath quicken again, it feels like he’s doing it all on purpose.

“You're not being fair.” I whisper to him, my eyes are still closed.

“Hm? How so.” His voice is low, and just as quiet as mine was.

“Because you're trying to make me flustered.” He laughs.

“Me? I would never.” I laugh this time, and I open my eyes to look at him. I’m met with his face, flushed as well, his eyes are also closed. He looks so peaceful like this, a little smile on his lips. When he opens his he’s looking right into my own, and for what feels like hours we stay like that, just looking into each other's eyes.

“Don’t be coy mister, you know exactly what you're doing.” He’s leaning in again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says it nearly directly on my own lips. I feel his fingers move from my jaw to my neck and it makes me shiver. This time I start the kiss, and it’s slow again, until he puts his hands into my hair again. It becomes more then, not the messy kind from earlier or even the kiss from Tuesday. This kiss is just deeper, but it makes my head spin all the same as the others did.

I wrap my hands around his wrist, and he’s pushing for me to lean back and I let him. The blanket falls to the floor as I lean back, then he’s on me. He’s nearly as warm as the blanket was, the kiss keeps the same rhythm as it had before. I feel like I’m floating as one of his hands goes down to my waist, it makes my breath hitch. He pulls back then, he looks down at me as I’m trying to catch my breath.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.” It comes out immediately, I just want to keep kissing him. I take my hand from his back to his jaw and mirror what he had been doing to me just moments before. He shudders and his face leans into my fingertips.

“Now you’re the one not playing fair.”

“Hm? How so?” I parrot back to him, and he narrows his eyes down at me.

“You just think you’re so cute.” He jests to me, I smile.

“I don’t, I’m just giving you back what you gave me.”

“Well I do it better than you do.”

“Kissing? Yeah you kiss better than me, that I won’t argue.” My fingers are tracing down his neck now, and I trace the collar of his shirt and allow my fingers to dip into it. His skin is hot, and his chest is heaving, once my fingers trace his collarbone he closes his eyes.

I feel powerful like this, usually he’s the one putting me on edge, making my brain frazzle into nothing. To see him lose himself gives me a sense of pride. He moves his hand over my stomach over my shirt, I feel his fingers move to the bottom and they slip under the fabric to the skin of my sides.

He’s turned the tables again, now I’m breathing as heavy as he is. I trail my fingers back to his head and rest them against the back of his head, I run them through his hair, it’s softer than I could have imagined. His own fingers keep tracing the same pattern against my skin, I tug the hair on the back of his neck and something happens.

I feel his hips jut, and he makes a sound. One similar to the one I had made for him, it makes my eyes go wide and a gasp slips out. The sound sends something straight through my entire body, and the feeling of him against my thigh sends it again ten fold.

He’s off of me in seconds and I feel the cool air rush against my flush skin, his own eyes wide and erratic. He looks down at me, it doesn’t last long before he darts them away again, he stares at the wall behind me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, he glances back down at me and I see his breath hitch. I’m on my elbows leaning up to look at him. He shuts his eyes.

“Yeah I’m good, I mean I’m fine. I just need a second.” I take the time to look at him, he’s still on top of me, just up on his knees. I can see him through his pants, I shut my eyes too, letting myself back down on the couch. He’s just as bothered by all this as I am.

“Yeah, me too” I say, still trying to catch my own breath. When I open my eyes his are still shut, I nudge him with my knee and he looks at me again. “What's wrong?”

He looks conflicted, his eyes making their way over my entire form.

“I don’t want you to think I’m a creep.” The confession brings a flush to his cheeks.

“Why would I think you’re a creep?”

“Because I got.” He pauses and whatever he wants to say won’t come out. “Because I got all, I don’t know, bothered.” He’s beet red after he’s done, it gives me the courage.

“Well, I am too. But that doesn’t make me a creep.” I tell him, his eyes snap to my face.

“You are?” I nod. “I guess we’re both creeps then.”

#simon kelleher #simon kelleher x reader #mark mckenna #maeve rojas #janae matthews

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