#the promise of both with the result of nothing
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monzamash · 3 days ago
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★ bargain bin — lando norris
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coming clean part II lando norris x you —no warnings, just angst (the spice will be back next time, i promise) read part I here requested by anon; "sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside"
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“you can only come in if you promise we’re not going to fight.”
lando nodded, eyes soft. he looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. you didn't know that he had only flown home from a triple header yesterday, you swore once the break up happened that you wouldn't worry about him anymore. but of course you did, secretly checking the race results, betrayed by your curiosity.
“the last thing i want is to fight with you,” he replied, barely above a whisper as you took a step to the side and allowed him into your apartment. 
he was dripping wet from the storm outside, immediately ditching the bomber jacket hanging from his shoulders and kicking off the boots covered in your freshly cut lawn. he was apologetic about bringing the rain into your quaint apartment — he felt safer here than in his own place in monaco. he hated it there now, without you, swearing up and down that nothing but resentment and pain lived in those hallowed walls. 
seeing him in the flesh felt different to what you expected. your heart clenched as he leaned against your couch, hands stuffed into his hoodie and dishevelled curls sweeping across his furrowed forehead. being in the same room for the first time in months changed everything, all the fears you’d built up in your mind melted away and the deep regret of letting go of someone so kind and generous churned in your stomach. 
“you look tired, lan.” 
the nickname caught his attention, eyes locking in on your expression to see how genuine you were — hoping to god you were giving him the same look you gave when you were together. 
“i don’t even know how i managed to drive over here to be honest — just can’t sleep anymore,” lando grumbled, feet shuffling on your carpet. 
“then we should go to bed…” 
his eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion, “wha- are you… are you sure?” 
you nodded and reached out for his hand, “come on.” 
lando followed closely behind, heart thumping in his chest as you closed the bedroom door and walked to your closet, “i still have some of your clothes here,” you whispered, handing him a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts.
“thank you…” he managed to squeak out, tears slightly forming in his eyes, “you always look after me better than anyone else.” 
“i know you’d do the same for me if i was struggling,” you stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you exited the bathroom in your pyjamas. 
lando sighed and held his tongue. all he wanted to do was tell you how beautiful you looked and how much he appreciated your caring nature. instead, he crawled into bed beside you and rested his weary head on the pillow. the sound of the thundering storm outside your window would have been enough to lull him to sleep, especially with the warmth of your body so close to his. but he didn’t want to sleep, not with so many thoughts swirling around his busy mind.
“how have you been?” he asked, causing you to look over at him with a chuckle.
“i thought you were tired…”
lando shrugged and attempted to disguise his small smile, “i was but like i said in my text — i miss you a lot. miss talking to you and hearing your voice…”
“sounds like you’re down bad.”
“so bad.” he quipped back, shuffling closer to you like a magnet. 
you shook your head and turned onto your side to face him completely, “i miss you too.” 
“yeah?” he almost sounded shocked, playfully so but there was a hint of genuine scepticism in his cracking voice.
“yeah. miss a lot of things about you…”
“like what?” he taunted. 
“just shut up and kiss me, you dork.”
lando didn’t need to be told twice as he closed the small space between you, scooping your waist into his arms and holding you tight. your noses bumped before your lips made contact, making your both giggle as he kissed you into the mountain of pillows.
a loud crack of lightning outside your window made you jump, instinctively pulling him even closer than humanely possible as his lips travelled down your neck — the rumbling of thunder murmured in sync with your heart beat. it felt like the first time you’d met all those years ago, so young and stupidly in love. 
“i love being with you during storms like this… makes me feel safe.”
“i’ve got you and i’m not going anywhere.” he reassured sweetly in a whisper.  you sighed in relief, relaxing into his touch while bringing his face up to yours with shaky hands. there was a nervous surge of energy when you looked into his sparkling green eyes, slightly darkened by the dimly lit room— you believed every word he had said that night and sealed it with a kiss, slowly melting into the covers as he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
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a/n — very rarely does this happen but the spice would not come to me for this one. i feel like the vibe just felt different and honestly, i don't know how to feel about it hahaha i realised a long time ago that writing angst doesn't come naturally even though i'm a moody bitch - maybe it's because writing is my escapism lol #end of (f1) season sale!! —see what other customers are buying ✨
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devosin · 11 hours ago
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— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : keeping up with Y/n L/n . .
♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Y/n pov . .
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Your fingers glided through the screen—which was on its lowest brightness setting—skimming through the terms and conditions of your contract, noting anything that stood out, before you threw the phone aside back on the nightstand and fell back down on your bed, pulling the comforter on yourself, as you try and relax your otherwise restless brain. 
Tired shallow breaths leave your chest, your eyebags felt heavy, almost weighing you down—and the light peeking from your curtains almost caused a headache—there was this feeling that grew in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t quite label, a mix between both nausea and the dreadful feeling of doom, and after effect of an intense hangover, that didn’t seem to go away even if you drowned it in water and pills. 
You hated it, you hated how being drunk leads you to do impulsive shit, and you hated the aftereffects making you so wary of your decisions, which only resulted in you sowing every decision you make. 
Everytime you drink, you end up regretting it, and promising yourself that you won't ever again—it’s not that you're a heavy drinker—You just don’t trust yourself, you never have, but the alcohol really does wonders in bringing those feelings of deep-rooted insecurity up to the surface. 
It’s really not your fault, it was an after party for the cast and crew in celebration of your series finalé—You didn’t do well under pressure, and when everyone around you was pushing you to take another hit and another shot . . and well saying no would have ruined the mood—You don’t regret going on your phone, and you most definitely didn’t regret emailing a response back for the hosting offer—You would’ve accepted anyways, the alcohol just gave you the push you didn’t have before. 
It still triggers your anxiety, because you’re jumping into something headfirst with nothing prepared, you haven’t done that in ages. 
You sigh, getting up from your bed, you’re clearly not going to get any sleep with this much stress, it would be best if you get some air, to calm down . . . 
You were still in your pajamas, a large winter coat and hat covering most of your features (in order to avoid paparazzi), as you made your way through the streets, your hands buried in your pockets, forming fists as you looked through your surroundings. It was early november, barely any snow to be found yet it was colder than any winter you’ve ever experienced in the city. 
It’s been four years since you moved out to the outskirts of Pyroxene, you used to live in the capital, before your acting career even started. You even attended University there, not much going on with your degree anymore though. A lot of your friends still live there, and sometimes you miss the bustling streets, the noisy cafe’s, the ability to meet up with your friends as often as you’d like, or the feeling of home—However, if there’s one thing you don’t miss, it’s the fucking traffic. 
The traffic there was hell. You still have a small private condo in the capital under your name, considering a lot of your filming jobs take place there, and it seemed like a better investment than renting a hotel room every time, and hotels generally trigger your germaphobia . . —Plus it’s a lot cheaper just renting, and convenient for last minute things also hotels in the capital are fucking expensive—and everytime you film having to drive back and fourth made you want to take a knife to your throat, but that’s not a hotel exclusive problem. 
You snapped out of your thoughts, when you heard a car horn, realizing you had walked straight into traffic. 
‘Shit.’, you ran across the street as fast as you could, and for a moment you started believing in God again, because that was a close one. 
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Y/n and Navia beef because I looped "Girls so confusing" remix a lil too much and I wanted to have a friendship rebound in this because I clearly ain't getting one irl. (ew trauma dumping? in front of my yogurt/j)
I decided to double post and publish both pov's (praise me frfr/j), so you can get a grip on how things might flow?! Also creating relationships of side characters and dynamics as we move along, I want ya'll to really know these characters.
Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .
— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .
♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)
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— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @immahuman , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace , @frangiipanii (you'll be tagged in the comments due to tumblr mention issues)
♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)
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© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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shuaboo · 3 days ago
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kim gyuvin thinks everything is a fuckin game. 😒 boy don’t play with me bc ill show u how i feel the pop . 😒😒😒😒
his hands are so FUCKING PRETTY i need them!!!!bbvn!:?;!3).! what. these are insane photos lol!!!! these were screenshotted from one of his most recent lives and omg…. i think im dead.
have this gyuvin fic for your daily treat ☺️💋 no title or anything because this was completely spontaneous, it wasn’t even supposed to be this long.
a/n: this is the gyuvin fic i lost progress for. i promise this was so much better before and i wish i had saved it, but this isn’t all that bad either:(. enjoy!
just imagine gyuvin being a fucking tease, sending you these photos while you’re busy because he feels neglected and needy. he’s not sending you a warning text, just two attachments and wow. he knows he’s got you all worked up, and expects you to be at his door or ask him to come over.
well surprise, you do. 20 minutes after he sent the pictures, he got no reply from you which started to worry him. he was about to message you, but heard a ring at his door. lo and behold, you are standing there. clearly looking frustrated both sexually and from your work or uni studies. he’s got you right where he wanted you to be.
“oh… my love i thought you were busy, why the sudden visit?” he asks you, trying to act clueless. “shut up. you know why i’m here. you sent that stupid hand pic to get me all worked up, so now i’m here. do something about it.” you snap back at him, and he giggles. “hmm, i don’t know what you’re talking about, baby. i sent those pictures because i just… missed you, that’s all. not sure what other reasons you think i had to—“
you cut him off by grabbing a fistful of his shirt into your hands, and pulling him down for a passionate kiss. he’s surprised at first, but he eases into the kiss and starts to rub your torso. your hands are now around his neck, but only a few seconds later, you pull away. you knew simply asking him to make you feel good wouldn’t work. so as a result, you opt to do something else.
you’re looking at him with the begging eyes that make him crazy. “gyuv, please make me feel good..” you say as your hands make their way into his, rubbing his knuckles. you turn your gaze to his hands before continuing to speak. “you’re so mean, teasing me when you know i’m busy. now you’re not even going to do anything about it.” you attempt to walk away, but his hand stops you.
“you’re not going anywhere.”
that’s how you ended up here, on the bed with gyuvin’s fingers in your mouth. you’re sucking, practically drooling all over his fingers and it makes his mind go crazy. the fact that you’re in such a desperate state just because of his fingers makes his ego shoot up.
after awhile, gyuvin takes his fingers out of your mouth and gives you a quick kiss. he moves himself down until he’s face to face with your pussy. “fuck… baby you’re so wet. is this all for me, slut?” he says as he uses two of his fingers to rub your clit, and down along the folds. his words and actions makes you whine, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you in the way you want. “y-yes! it’s all for you.. please touch me, gyuv. wanna cum a-around your fingers, please.” you manage to form a sentence, even with the stimulation of his fingers harshly rubbing your clit. he groans at your words, and mumbles a drawn out ‘fuck’ before responding. “yeah? my pretty girl wants to cum around my fingers… who am i to say no to you, huh baby?” he says, moving up to kiss you on the lips again. you desperately kiss him back before he goes down to your pussy again.
he gives your clit a kiss and licks it, before he lets two of his fingers sink into your hole. “damn, look at that. she’s practically sucking my fingers in. what a slutty hole.” he starts moving his fingers at a slow to moderate pace, making your face contort slightly, and earning the cutest moans from you. embarrassed, you cover your face to hide from him and to suppress your sounds, but gyuvin doesn’t like that. he uses his free hand to slap your pussy, and looks up at you. “don’t hide those pretty moans baby, and don’t you dare hide that even prettier face either. let everyone know what a slut you are for me, for my fingers.” following his orders, you remove your hands from your face. he resumes his earlier acts, this time thrusting his fingers faster. the pace is so overwhelming, but it’s so good. you can’t get enough of his fingers. you let out loud moans, whines, everything. “i can feel you clench around my fingers, pretty. gonna cum soon?” he takes your whines as a yes, but waits for you to use your words anyway. “y-yes! fuck- please make me cum- ah, p-please go faster, need to cum so bad please baby!” he does as he’s told, and quickens his pace. your sounds only get louder as his fingers move faster. eventually, you let yourself release all over his fingers. completely covering his fingers in your cum.
he moves up to face you, and puts his fingers in his mouth to taste you. he then moves to kiss you on the lips, letting you taste yourself. you let out a groan at the taste, as you let his tongue explore your mouth until he pulls away. immediately, his slightly mean demeanor from earlier changes. he pecks your forehead and cups your face before asking you a stream of questions. “are you okay? did it feel good, baby? was it too much? did i go too hard? can you walk?” you smile at his worry and nod, but he isn’t satisfied. “i need words baby, words. need to hear you say it.” he says, insisting he must hear you say you’re okay. you can only chuckle at his concern. you can’t believe this was the same guy who sent you teasing pics and calls you his slut during bed. “yes, im okay. it felt good and you didn’t go too hard, don’t worry.” you say as you snuggle into his hand. “okay. let’s get you cleaned up.”
he moves to pick you up, but you grab his hands instead. “but what about you?” you ask. he looks at you confused, not understanding what you mean. “you, gyuvin. you got to please me today, but what about you? wanna make you feel good too..” he chuckles, and then offers you something. “say what, how about the next time we’re free you could just touch me however you’d like, and make me feel good. that sound good to you baby?” you nod and let go of his hand, letting him pick you up.
he sets you down on the bathroom counter so he can prepare a bath for you. once he’s done, he comes to you again. you speak up, “mm, thank you for always taking care of me. i love you, gyuv.” he smiles, his heart melting at your words. “of course love, that’s what i do. i would love to spoil and pamper you everyday if i could. i love you too, my pretty girl.” you lean in to kiss him (again) and quickly pull away so he can help you bathe.
he always knows how to make it up to you after distracting you while you’re still busy. he knows that you’re tense from the stress, so he wants to help you release that tension. even if it means seducing you to come over at his place :).
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laurrelise · 2 months ago
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i wanted to sketch five but somehow i just drew .. uhm.
boots
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so i’d say it’s going pretty well
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atoltia · 3 months ago
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Promise of Wealth
Sylus gave you access to the entirety of his fortune, and yet you keep using it... on him?
In which the MC doesn't really care about his money so much.
Sylus and fem!MC fluff
Disclaimer: I've only been playing the game for less than two weeks so apologies for any mistakes.
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To obtain power, one must have it.
It was a natural truth, one that he diligently followed. It took discipline to hone his instincts, experience to ensure success in his ventures, a raw, natural brutality that served to enhance his ideals and further his reputation not just as the leader of Onychinus, but as a conqueror known throughout the galaxy.
The simple utterance of his name invoked fear. The visage of him exuded wealth, so much so that he could buy himself a decent-sized country if he so wanted.
Sylus was perplexed.
He had all the wealth that he could possibly covet, is still planning to acquire. He owned several multi-million enterprises, resorts, hotels, villas and manors - all the material gains that one could only dream to have and made sure you had access to every single thing the moment the two of you made your relationship official.
He trusted you with his card, he's opened up your own bank account already filled with millions, acquired property and assets in your name. You could get anything that you'd want and he wouldn't bat an eye.
And yet the only purchase you made for yourself in the several months you've been together was a book that costed no more than twelve credits.
His brows furrowed when he saw the credit card reports. There were purchases made by you. Several, even. But the amounts of the transactions were unimpressive, with a few sizable purchases here and there. And he knew, of course he knew, exactly what those big purchases were.
The new leather coat the you had tailor made for him was hanging over his office sofa. The jeweled cuff links that you got for him twinkled prettily against the light of his desk lamp. You replaced his gun holster, saying that his other one was already worn.
He was sure that the twins were sporting new jackets with bulletproof lining seeing as the last ones got torn to shreds in a gun fight two months ago. Even Mephisto's perch in the living room was brand new.
The refrigerator was always stocked with a variety of ingredients that previously weren't in the usual lists, and after a conversation with the chef and the staff, he knew that they weren't the ones getting the groceries in the last six months.
It's not like it upset him that you didn't use his wealth. It was just rather confusing and amusing to a degree. Was this you being stubborn, perhaps? Or was this your way of keeping your independence? Hm, it wasn't like he was preventing you from doing your work. Not at all.
He thought about looking at the purchases from your own card, but then thought against it. From the time you've spent together, he doubted that the results would be any different.
But he could ask.
You weren't difficult to find. At this time of day he could often find you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book or fiddling with your phone, and today wasn't any different.
Soft music played from the record player next to the sofa as the curtains near the air conditioner rustled. You hand was outstretched, resting on nothing but air as you slept, the book that you were so diligently reading was strewn on the ground.
Sylus breathed out a chuckle as he leaned against the doorframe, just watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, shushing Mephisto when the mechanical companion fluttered his wings a little too hard.
But your training as a hunter wasn't for nothing. Heightened senses, even when asleep, was part of the package Sylus had to accept and fully expected when both of you moved past simply lovers to an official couple.
The flutter of your eyelashes was slight, but there was an alertness to your gaze the moment you awoke, quickly scanning the room without so much as budging any part of your body, and immediately calmed when you realized where you are and who was in the room.
"Mm."
"Hello, sweetie."
From beneath the covers you raised your other arm, reaching towards him when he strode towards you. It would be so easy for him to engulf you in his entirety. It wasn't lost on him that his physicality was so much bigger than you, but it was one of the things that you loved about him - loved at how easy it was for him to just pick you up and hold you, envelop you into his embrace.
"Sylus."
He loved the way you purred out his name, loved the way you just molded in his arms like warmed putty, soft and pliable as you positioned yourself in a more comfortable spot on his lap. He picked up the book from the floor.
"This is the book you bought."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you buy the others?"
You shrugged, pulled the book that hung loosely from his fingers before showing him the cover. "How would I know if the series is good if I don't buy the book first? It's a waste if it sucks."
He looked at you quizzically, smirked. Ruffled your hair.
"Oh, are you afraid to waste my money, sweetie? Fifty credits isn't a sum to be concerned about."
"Still," you pressed, drilling a finger into the spot that you know was ticklish, laughing when he grabbed your arm and bit your finger. "I'm not wasting shit on a mediocre book."
With your hand still in his grasp, he maneuvered you enough to have you be on top of his chest as he took your position on the couch, those long, long fingers of his kneading the dip between your hips. "Is it mediocre?"
"No. It's pretty good, actually."
"Then buy the rest of it."
"What if the third one sucks?"
"Sweetie," he took your chin, had you look into the deep scarlet of his eyes as amusement danced in it. "Just buy it or I'll buy it for you."
The look in your eye was indescribable to him. It was as if you were searching something that she couldn't quite grasp, couldn't quite find. He lightly bit the lip that you jutted out when you pouted.
"Do you not like spending my money?"
"I spend your money."
"Yes, but you spend it on us. Not on you."
Your brows furrowed. "So?"
"Darling," there was resignation on his voice as he flicked your forehead.
You frowned as you sat up, straddled him, your hands splayed on his wide chest. "I don't need anything. You already buy me things."
"And you need not more?"
"Sylus," you dipped down, cupped his cheeks. Kissed the tip of his nose. "I don't buy anything else because you already get me the things I could possibly need and more. So much more."
Those scarlet eyes regarded you as his fingertips ran up and down your back. You knew all too well how cold those eyes could get, how dangerous his hands could be. You knew all to well how easy it would be for him to snap you like a twig. You've seen it many times before, after all.
And yet he looked at you with such warmth right now that if you were a stranger, you would never be able to tell that this was Sylus, leader of Onychinus.
"I'll get you the entire universe if you so wish it."
And you knew, deep in your heart you know, that it was the truth. His truth.
So you told him your truth as well.
You straightened your position on his lap, careful to not... excite any other part of him as you reached from under your shirt, pulled out the necklace that he gave you all those months ago.
It was a simple little thing. A sizable ruby lovingly enveloped by two crow's wings made of polished silver. It was one of the first things he gave you when you accepted him, when you accepted his love and his force of will. When you wore it, you showed him that you accepted all of him, including his shadows, including his pain, including the violence that followed him wherever he went.
No matter how much glitter he decided to get you, all the shiny things he draped on you, you always came back to this necklace. It was a promise to him, as much as it was a promise to you.
"You gave me stability," you said to him as you rubbed circles on his muscled torso. "I won't have to worry about making rent anymore or if I'll have enough money to buy food for the next week. You gave me a home, you gave me companionship, you gave me warmth." And with every single gift of his, you tapped his lips. "Do you drive me insane? Yeah, you do." A kiss to his cheek, his lips. "But I'm sure I drive you insane much, much more."
Stillness descended upon you both, the music from the gramophone the only thing to indicate that time did not, in fact, stop.
"You gave me family, Sy."
Those large hands of his moved, prying your fingers from his chest as he slipped them between your fingertips before pulling you closer, gently, every so gently, peppering your neck with tiny little nips. He sighed.
"You will be my undoing."
You smiled, nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "As you will be mine."
So there you two laid, heartbeats and breaths syncing, his one hand stroking your back as he lulled you back to sleep.
And thought it probably wasn't the time to tell you that he bought a tropical island in your name.
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still trying to grasp how I wanna write him so it might take a bit more practice haha I do have more sylus fluff planned. feel free to send ideas tho (preferably angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. i don't really like writing smut that much)
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 days ago
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I’ll Take Care Of You
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: sick Lando, smut
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You weren't supposed to show up at the Las Vegas GP because you had your own business commitments, but knowing the state Lando was in, you decided to drop everything and come with him. You knew he needed you there and there wasn't a second of doubt in your mind whether or not to go with him when you saw how sick he really was.
After Brazil, Lando was not feeling well mentally. He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat or drink, his mood was at zero and all of this affected his immune system which resulted in him falling ill just before the Vegas GP.
Your heart ached seeing him like this because you knew there was nothing you could do except be there for him until he got through it. The only good thing about all of this was taking the pressure of being a world champion off his shoulders until next season at least.
Before the Vegas race, Lando could barely function, to be honest. His nose was blocked, his head was pounding, and he could barely hear in one ear.
As you closely followed the race in the garage, it no longer mattered to you which place he would take, you just prayed that he would finish the race safely and successfully so you can get him out of there.
So once the race was finally over, you were relieved, and so was he. When he got out of the car and took his helmet and balaclava off his head, he immediately looked for you with his eyes.
"Baby.." You looked at him sadly, approaching him and extending your arms towards him. "Are you alright?"
"Hey, love" His head fell onto your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I feel so sick" He sighed quietly and you immediately put your palm against his forehead to check his temperature.
"Lan, you're burning"
He was exhausted, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and head up. He desperately needed to rest and all you wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible.
"Go get changed and we're going to the hotel, okay?" You tell him.
"No, I don't wanna go to the hotel, I wanna go home." He says.
"Lan, you can't get on a plane like this. You need to get some rest first and then we're gonna go home"
"No, please baby, I just wanna go to our home, please. I really need it. I know I'll feel better as soon as we get home." He whines. You sigh for a moment just looking at him as you ponder if this really is a smart decision. "Please" His eyes plead and you finally agree.
He was clinging to you the entire flight, holding his head in your lap and trying to sleep. He still had a fever so you improvised compresses to put over his forehead.
Lando wasn't sick often, but once in a while when he caught a cold, it would wipe him out. It was the same this time. He was bedridden for a week, and you were there every day taking care of him. He wasn't even exaggerating, he was really sick and you were worried he would get dehydrated or his condition would get worse. You even wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he promised he was fine and just needed you by his side.
Once he finally felt well enough to get out of bed and go further than the bathroom, you felt a pair of arms hug you around your waist as you prepared lunch in the kitchen.
"Hey, baby" Your eyes lit up when you saw him.
"Hey" He smiled nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving a kiss.
"Are you feeling any better?" You asked.
"Mhm. My throat is still a little sore, but I feel much better." He says in a hoarse voice.
"Well, good then." You rise on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You really got me worried."
"Thank you for taking care of me" He smiles putting your face between his hands.
"You don't need to thank me for that. I enjoy doing it."
"I know, but that's my job - to take care of you and me."
"You know how they say, 'in sickness and in health'." You both laugh considering you're not even engaged yet, let alone married even though people around you keep asking you about it all the time.
"Do I hear the wedding bells?" Lando asks.
"I don't know, do you?"
"I think I do." He smirks biting his lip before pressing his lips against yours knowing it's only a matter of time before he proposes to you.
Although he felt better physically, he still hadn't mentally recovered from the 'defeat', even though he didn't want to admit it. But it gave him away when you looked for him on his side of the bed in your sleep and couldn't find him.
You squinted at your phone to see what time it was and when it showed 2 a.m. you found it strange that he wasn't there because he usually sleeps all night.
You headed straight for the living room where you found him on the couch in front of the TV. He was lying down in his boxers, watching TV, but his gaze was thoughtful and you knew something was bothering him.
"Lan?"
"Baby, what are you doing awake?" He asks extending his arm for you to lie down next to him.
"I have the same question for you." You say taking a place next to him and leaning your head against his chest.
"Couldn't sleep, I was tossing and turning the whole time. I got up so I wouldn't wake you up."
"And why couldn't you sleep?" You ask, but he stays silent. "Baby, what's bothering you? Talk to me, please."
"You already know what it is" He sighs tracing his fingers over your shoulder. "But I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I really don't, I just need to get through it."
"Is there anything I can do about it?"
"You're here with me. That's all I need." He says placing a kiss to your forehead.
But you were determined to do something, anything, to make him feel at least a little better. And what's better than satisfying him to relieve him of frustration and tension.
Besides, it's been over two weeks since the last time you fucked. You'd be lying if you said you didn't need him in the same way and you thought tonight was the perfect opportunity for both of you so you straddled him and started kissing him gently.
He gave in to the kiss, not yet realizing what you were up to. It was only when you slowly started grinding your hips against him that he smiled into the kiss.
"What's on your mind, baby?" He asked gripping your hips.
"Just wanna make you feel better" You said moving your lips to his neck. He moaned throwing his head back and you felt him starting to get hard underneath you.
You soon positioned yourself between his legs and pulled his boxers down. He quickly got rid of them, throwing them aside, and you began to kiss him around his length.
"Wanna please you" You said between kisses.
He took his cock in his hand and tapped it against your lips. You stuck out your tongue and licked his tip making him groan in response. You teased him by slowly licking him up and down and he was starting to get impatient.
"Baby, please" He whispered stroking himself against your lips.
"Please, what, Lan?" You asked innocently, stopping his hand and cupping his balls.
"Put it in your mouth"
His breath catches as your lips finally wrap around his cock. He collects your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to get a better look at you taking him all the way in.
You keep taking him deeper and deeper until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gag around him.
"Oh fuck.." He moans while his fingers keep raking and twirling in your hair. Your hand soon replaces your mouth as you spit on his tip and stroke him up and down. You don't want him to cum this way, you want him to cum inside you and you know he's close so you straddle him again guiding his cock to your entrance.
"Fuck, baby, fuck" His hands are pulling your night dress up to reveal your ass and grab it. He lets out a low groan as you slowly sink down on him. Leaning back, he shifts his hips up to adjust how he's sitting.
"You feel so good, so big inside of me" You whine as your rock your hips back and forth.
"Yeah?" His breath is ragged as he grips your hips tighter and attaches his lips against your neck.
"Stretching me out so good, Lan, shit" You make special effort to compliment him tonight as you keep on riding him quickening your pace.
He grips your ass tighter pulling you down harder on him. His breath is ragged in your ear and it makes you take him deeper and harder needing him to lose control. And you know what's coming next when you feel him twitch inside you.
"I'm cumming" He chokes out triggering your own orgasm. You clench around him as he fills you up biting his teeth into your skin.
He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead while you lay leaning against his chest, barely catching your breath from the sweet release you both needed so desperately.
"I love you" He whispers. "I love you more than anything"
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mesetacadre · 23 days ago
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107 years ago today an organized group of workers in the Russian Empire decided they had had enough of war, misery, the oppression of women, and of a corrupt democracy that had promised much and changed nothing, the Tsar still in his palaces, the workers still giving their life for a cause foreign to the working class of Europe and the world. Most bolsheviks were industrial workers, with an insufficient formal education, precarious salaries and conditions. The working class in the Russian Empire had tried liberal democracy, had seen its hipocrisy in the months following the election of the provisional government, and understood their historic goal of progressing further beyond the democracy of the landowner, businessman and aristocrat. It wasn't the first time the proletariat had attempted to take power, both worldwide and in the Russian Empire, but this time they were ready, educated, an organized enough.
The armies of 14 imperialist powers combined could not stop the will of a mass of workers that had realized their worth, their potential, and most importantly, their dignity. They no longer had to bow down to paternalism, electoralism, and the capitalists to whom they sold their labor, no armed intervention, no amount of propaganda, no adventurist distraction, could take away from that fact. This isn't a fantasy, it isn't idealistic, it's a historical fact, that revolutions are possible, have happened, succeeded, and that the opportunity presents itself sooner than most expect. The only task at hand is to organize towards it. Agitation, education, an actual dual power structure predicated on a unified will, not on voluntarism and horizontalism.
I understand the topic at hand for the last 2 days and many more to come will be the results of the US election. But the US is not the only liberal democracy that increasingly creates disappointment among the social majority. After all the posting about the various liberals that make up the US electoral environment, it is imperious that nobody falls into despair. Not in a self-care way, not in the way most left-liberals have been talking about, referring to an abstract sense of "preparing", but because of the simple necessity for this election to further erode any popular faith in reformism, whether it's Trump's reforms, Harris' reforms, Bernie's reforms, or Stein's reforms. Wallowing in despair is as useful as placing yet more stake into whoever is wheeled out next to promise even less, in what will most certainly be also called the most important elections of our lifetimes.
Return to the working class of the Russian Empire, of a fractured and hungry China, to the colony of Indochina, to the plantation island that was Cuba. And I urge you to exercise some perspective. These masses of people had suffered more than you for longer than you. Nobody's asking you to feel guilty about your economic position in the world, we're asking you to realize that, for as long as there have been modes of production predicated on the exploitation, division and discrimination of a producing class, there have always been options, better options than sinking into despondent depression. They have managed to cast off their yoke and build towards a society not based on exploitation. They're not utopias, and mistakes have been and will be committed, but they all realized and understood that it's better to commit our own mistakes, than to toil under the rational oppression by another class for any longer.
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blindtaleteller · 10 months ago
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It wasn't just the series.
Waititi started that trend going with his blatant disregard for any character associated with the Thor title, and a good sized dose of blatant disrespect for the previous story and it's creators while he was at it.
The series just took Taika's crappy takes and dialed it up to 12.
Also, tags.
oh and another thing! what was the point of having Loki develop friendships so that way he could "have a meaningful relationship for the first time in his life" when Thor was RIGHT THERE the whole time???
The movie saga:
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The series, for some reason:
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#true#it wasn't a fantastic relationship#but it had promise and up until gagnarok; was getting to a more meaningful good between them#one of the reasons I hate ragnarok is what it did to thor & loki both separately and as two men raised from childhood together for 1500 yrs#Taika took Thor's growing character and threw him back to 2011 pre-ebanishment arrogant asshat Thor#and the result that and his personal opinions of loki coloring the story was utterly disappointing and frankly disgusting to me#it had it's moments#and it was clear they were (laughably mind you) TRYING to keep some of the established lore regardless of Jenga Block Boy..#but in the end it was the insubstantial background sort; while the characters were trashed from the ground up#Bruce; Valkyrie; Loki; and yes the title character too got srsly#pretty sad tho that they did focus on Frigga#& leave out & off the fact that she had her part as Odin's wife & Queen & the woman that raised and taught him:to never prepare him for 201#pretty sure she knew she didn't give birth to that#pretty sure she knew him well enough at some point to know how he would have reacted if done wrong as Odin did it too#yet she did and said nothing for 1500 years and Loki recognized that too#meanwhile; Thor was lied to as well#and if you take Gagnarok and the extra lies of the third sibling into account?#Odin staying on earth specifically top lure a Hela who destroyed Mjolnir with one bare hand; to the middle of a very squishy; human Europe?#All to avoid the consequences of Odin & Frigga's shitty choices & bad parenting?#Reminder on that point: both of their natural kids went diehard for genocide .. that's the norm they raised as examples#Gagnarok should have been a VERY different movie#and would have if Taika had alllowed Thor to maintain his growing conscience#and actually see the similarities and nasty actually Odin was; rather than making fun of it in the first prison scene on Sakaar after ->#valk enslaved him
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doromoni · 5 months ago
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Off Time | LN4
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Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning
A/N: Bruh this is so self indulgent! FYI~ I made this during my internship time (I was literally doing nothing). So heree enjoyyy ig?
Summary : You have pursued Lando’s affection, yet he doesn’t seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?
Masterlist
Part 2
It was another season of Formula 1 on the Silverstone track, the paddock was buzzing with excitement and cameras flashing as the drivers arrived one by one.
You were patiently waiting by the entrance of the paddock club eagerly looking for the family that loved you like their own. You promised them that you’ll see and spend time with the Norrises first before your busy schedule fully takes over and renders you unavailable for the rest of the weekend. It was expected considering that your line of work requires you with a mic and a camera on you at all times.
You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, probably your boss Mia giving you orders on your next driver interview, and as you checked — you were right. Oh! It was at Mercedes with George. You were in the middle of replying to your boss when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your waist with force enough to make the both of you stumble for balance.
“Y/N! I missed you~ did you bring my stroopwaffles?” You were suddenly engulfed and bombarded by the youngest Norris sibling.
“Yes, Flo . Its at the hotel and I missed you too. Babe, I saw the horse show on video. You were amazing!” you exclaimed proudly as you hugged the younger girl back.
Your eyes then softened as you gazed at Adam and Cisca. They were smiling from ear to ear waiting for their turn for a hug.
“Hi, guys!” You finally said as Flo released you from her clutches and the Elder Norrises hugged you in one big group hug.
“Hi, darling. It’s so nice to see you again. Don’t get me wrong dear you’re amazing on TV — I just prefer to see you in person” Cisca comes at you as she pushes her husband aside to gather you alone in her arms; squeezing you.
“ Honey, let the poor girl breathe.” Adam Norris lovingly reprimanded his wife as he placed his hand on your head and messed with your hair.
You giggled at the family’s antics. Your eyes wandered around the area and you couldn’t help but look, hoping to see Lando’s presence nearby— hoping to have a chat or something.
The Elder Norris couple saw you looking around, probably looking for their son and they couldn’t help but feel awful for you.
“I’m sorry sweetie, Lando said that he’s running a bit late. We should go on ahead”
“Oh, yes of course. Shall we? I need to show you my office, I just got promoted!” You said trying to hide your disappointment with the achievement you got.
They knew that you liked their boy, and they were so happy about it. They would do anything to have you in the family. They just hoped that their son would finally clean his act up and see the amazing girl that was in front of him before it was too late.
As you walked through the paddock with Flo’s arm draped around yours, you couldn’t stop thinking about the British McLaren Driver.
He didn’t hate you, he didn’t hold anything against you— he just was… indifferent. Lando Norris didn’t like you the way that you did. Lando wasn’t interested, not in a romantic relationship type of way anyway. Or that’s what you concluded considering that for the past months of trying to shoot your shot, you were always turned down by the English Mclaren Driver.
His fellow drivers and best mates had always supported your attempts to pursue Lando. They said that you would be good for him, that you and Lando made sense. They knew that you would make him happy.
You met his family by chance and it bloomed when you saved them from being hounded by the press during the race where their son crashed; this resulted in a thank-you dinner and the rest was history.
His dad had loved you and wanted you in the family — so much that you were invited to intimate family gatherings and outings. His mom cherished your times together inside the kitchen, bonding over shared recipes and coffee dates. While his younger sister ran to you for comfort and advice. You were practically a Norris at this point.
However, the Norris sibling that held your fancy wanted nothing to do with you. To him, you were the family friend and the commentator from Sky F1. You were just a distant friend at best and for you that was enough.
Your mind was preoccupied with dazzling green eyes, the head of full curly hair, and now a blemish on his nose from a cut that you found most attractive on him. Your thoughts were fully circling Lando Norris and you didn’t realize that it was time to say goodbye to Adam, Cisca, and Flo.
“Ok guys, I need to work. I’ll find you when I can, alright?” You sulked as you dropped the Norrises off in front of Mclaren’s Motorhome. They said their goodbyes with hugs and cheek kisses. As you were leaving and them stepping inside the doors of McLaren — you were so sure that you saw the mop of curly hair that belonged to Lando Norris.
And you knew deep down that Lando was there the entire time and he just didn’t want to talk to you if not necessary. Knowing that information hurt you tremendously, but you continued to smile nevertheless.
***
Inside the McLaren Motorhome, just as you left, there stood Lando Norris clad in a black hoodie and sweats waiting for his family to enter. Yet his eyes lingered on the girl who seemed to catch his family’s affection like a bear to honey.
“Mum, Dad, Flo! How have you been?” Lando exclaimed as he hugged his family one by one.
“What is it, mum?” Lando asked his mother as soon as he spotted the disapproval on her face
“You said that you’ll be late, why are you inside the motorhome then?” Cisca’s eyes narrowed at her son.
Lando’s eyes shifted away from his mum, he didn’t like to lie to his parents. Rather to be quiet than lie.
“You know why, plus I’m thinking of dating someone else so please stop pushing Y/N to me,” Lando said somewhat indignantly.
“Son, Y/N is an amazing girl. Anyone would be lucky to have her. We just don’t want you to regret anything” His father explained pointedly however still gentle.
“Listen, I know that you love having her around. But, I just don’t fancy her like that. “ Lando languidly explained to his family his feelings for the commentator for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“Lando, I love you, but you’re being stupid. Maybe Y/N could be better off with someone other than you” Flo mutters with her lips pouted out as she pulls her parents further into the motorhome, not bothering to wait for what seems to be a frozen Lando.
Lando knew to himself that he didn’t like you. He was sure of it. Then why does the thought of you with someone else make his stomach churn and his blood boil?
He pictured you aiming your beautiful smile towards another man. Lando imagined you riding in another man’s car and being your attentive and caring self. A memory of you doing the same to him came to his mind.
You were seated in the passenger seat of his Mclaren, the sound of the Japanese house’s “Sunshine Baby” slowly playing in the background as the three of you cruised through the streets of Bristol, while Flo was dozing off in the backseat. Everything was peaceful and calm as Lando drummed his hand to the beat. The drizzle of rain slowly pelted on the windshield, adding to the calmness.
“What song is this?” Lando suddenly asked you, catching you off guard. His eyes then met yours and held your gaze.
“Oh! It’s Sunshine Baby by the Japanese House. You like it?” You asked back, reluctance was evident in your voice.
“Mhmm, It’s very calming. I mostly listen to house music and EDM… something calm is great. Do have other recommendations?” Lando conversed with a smile on his face, his eyes meeting yours once again before looking back to the road.
“I have an entire playlist! Give me your phone” You showed Lando your palm gesturing for his phone.
As Lando hands his phone to you, Flo wakes from her sleep and demands food on the way.
“Lando I want food. Y/N please buy me food” The younger Norris pouted at you and his brother.
“What do you want to eat, Babe?” You asked Flo when you saw Lando nod in approval.
“Fish and Chips!” Flo exclaimed with enthusiasm. You saw the look of apprehension of the British Driver but he didn’t say anything— only silently drove to the nearest fry shop instead.
“I’ll be back with food.” You spoke as you went to grab your wallet. Lando was handing his card, but you only grinned at the driver then sticking your tongue out as you exited the vehicle.
“I got this covered London boy!” You teased, earning a laugh from both the Norris siblings.
The food didn’t take too long and before you knew it you were back inside the slick Mclaren as the smell of grease and salt wafting the air.
“Ohhhh, that smells amazing~ did you get us all Fish and Chips, Y/N?” Flo asked as she moved to get her food.
“Babe, Your brother doesn’t like fish. So I bought Chicken and Chips for him instead. While you and I get fish” You replied as you gave Flo her food and drink.
“You got me food too and it’s not fish?” Lando asked you with a look of both admiration and a bit of confusion.
“Mhm, you hate fish, right? So chicken it is!” You smiled at the McLaren Driver as you popped the straw in his diet soda and handed it to him.
You were always thoughtful and sweet to everyone, but Lando saw that you were especially so with Him and his family —you remembered every detail.
An uncomfortable sensation settled on his chest as Lando saw in his mind you sharing the bond you had with his family with the family of your other half.
“Lando! Come on” His train of thought was disturbed by the shouts of his dad. However, the feeling of stuffiness remained.
***
You were walking through the paddock towards Ferrari when you walked into Alexandra and Rebecca along the way. The two wags were sweet and inviting, despite their lives of luxury and glamour; their humility shined especially Charles’ girlfriend.
While you were friendly with Rebecca — you didn’t have anything that connected you other than Carlos Sainz. You always felt a bit of tension with the girl, on her part of course. Maybe because of your close relationship with Carlos, jealousy was a feeling you understood well, so you didn’t hold it against the girl. However, with Alex, Alex just like Flo has found solace in your presence in the paddock. You were the first of the few who welcomed her with smiles and open arms when she first started appearing in races; solidifying your bond with the art graduate.
And so Alexandra was the very first to advise you on the news that ultimately breaks your heart.
“Y/N, I heard from Kika that Lando has been going on dates with a girl named Magui for a couple of weeks now and she says that the girl would be coming to the races in the very near future” Alex gently said as she clutched your arms tighter around hers— offering comfort.
Your breath was caught in your throat and you didn’t know how to reply without bursting into tears.
You thought after Luisinha you had a chance or at least to be closer with the driver. But with rumors swimming around about him dating this Portuguese model with a checkered dating past, your chances grow slimmer and slimmer.
Maybe you were kidding yourself for hoping for Lando to reciprocate your feelings. Maybe you were being overly optimistic when everyone said that Lando would come around. Maybe the best was just to give up.
Maybe it was time to truly let go of Lando Norris.
***
It was impossible to miss each other in the paddock, one way or another Lando and Y/N crossed paths.
It was almost routine for Lando to hear your voice calling out his name as you waved your hand in greeting. A sweet smile was always ready for him.
That’s why shock and bewilderment overcame Lando as you walked past him as if he wasn’t even there. No greeting, no smile, not even a brief eye contact.
You went past the driver as if he weren’t there. As you continued to walk away, Lando couldn’t help but look at your retreating form with hurt— he looked wounded by your indifference.
He then heard your sweet voice calling out a name, but this time it wasn’t his— it was his teammates' name. “Oscar!” You bellowed at the Australian Driver; with a smile that Lando wished was directed at him.
***
It has been a month with Y/N’s interactions with Lando at a standstill. And at this point Lando cannot deny that it drove him mad, that you drove him mad.
He was no longer in denial about his feelings for you. He fully accepted it and he wanted you back. Lando Norris liked you the way you did.
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iidrk3i · 5 months ago
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☆ ACTIONS OVER WORDS
hq -- tsukishima kei x gn!reader
summary: tsukishima kei doesn't know how to say he's sorry. so instead, he tries apologizing in a different way.
warnings: a bittt angsty but fluff in the end, brief food mentions, tsukki calls reader overbearing, nothing too much :)
word count: 768
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there he was, sitting on the couch with his head lolled on the headrest. what had started as a small disagreement between the two of you became a heated argument, which resulted in tsukishima calling you overbearing.
in your defense, you were just reminding your boyfriend to eat his meals everyday. this was the third time this week that you had reminded him, but something about today really ticked him off.
after tsukishima had gotten the last word in, he caught a glimpse of your face before you headed off into your shared bedroom. it was clear that you were upset with him, and you had every right to be. you weren't being overbearing at all. you were just being the kind person that he fell in love with. the person who looked out for everyone that they loved.
tsukishima looked at his phone. 6:43pm. he’s been sitting on the couch for a good 15 minutes trying to think of something to say to you. he wanted to say something sincere, something that would be genuine, but no matter how hard he thought, no matter how long he sat and waited for something to come to him, nothing was coming to mind.
that’s when tsukishima thought of a different tactic.
he had gone online and searched up your favorite take out place, ordering something for the both of you. once the food had arrived, tsukishima finally built up the courage to knock on the bedroom door. when he was met with silence, his hand hovered over the doorknob for a second, ultimately coming to the decision to walk in.
“oi y/n, i- uh.. i ordered takeout for us, if you're hungry," tsukishima stammered, feeling the weight of his words from earlier still heavy on his shoulders. he hesitated for a moment, unsure if you would even want to see him.
inside the dimly lit bedroom, you were seated on the edge of the bed, your back turned towards him. you had been replaying the argument in your mind, questioning whether you were indeed being too pushy. your thoughts were interrupted by his voice, and despite feeling hurt, you couldn't deny the rumbling in your stomach at the mention of food.
you turned slightly to look at him, noticing the takeout bags in his hands. the gesture made your heart melt. tsukishima cleared his throat nervously, taking a small step closer. "i... i know i was out of line earlier. you were just looking out for me," he began, his voice low. "i appreciate that, really. i'm sorry for calling you overbearing."
you remained silent, your gaze fixed on the floor as you processed his words. tsukishima shifted uncomfortably at the doorframe. "can we... can we talk about this?" he asked tentatively, taking another small step forward. "or at least, can we eat together?"
you glanced up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. despite the hurt feelings, you knew that tsukishima wasn't one to apologize easily. the fact that he had ordered your favorite food showed that he was trying, in his own way, to make amends.
finally, you nodded silently, gesturing towards the bed. tsukishima exhaled quietly in relief, setting the takeout containers down on the bedside table before joining you. for a while, neither of you spoke as you ate, the quietness was comfortable.
after a few minutes, tsukishima broke the silence cautiously. "i mean it, y/n. i shouldn't have said those things. i know you care about me, and i... i care about you too." his voice was hesitant, but genuine.
you looked at him then, meeting his gaze. "i know," you replied softly, your tone was enough for tsukishima to know you were forgiving him. "i just... sometimes i worry, you know?"
he nodded, his expression serious. "i get that. and i promise i'll try to be more mindful. you deserve that."
with those words, all the tension leaves the air. the conversation flowed more easily from there, the both of you gradually finding common ground and understanding. by the time you finished eating, a sense of comfort hung in the air.
as tsukishima gathered up the empty containers, you reached out to touch his arm lightly. "thank you, kei,” you said sincerely, meeting his eyes once more. "for trying."
he smiled faintly, a hint of relief in his expression. "thank you for not giving up on me," he replied, his voice soft.
and with that, the evening unfolded into a quiet understanding between the two of you, strengthening the bond that had drawn you together in the first place.
a/n: this one’s a little messy😓
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cryptidcasanova · 6 months ago
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Lover Boy
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Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.
Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.
3.5k
The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.
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You were mortified.
One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.
There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.
You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.
Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.
Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.
'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'
You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.
Again, mortified.
He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.
But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.
He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.
"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"
"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."
You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.
"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.
"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.
"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."
Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.
"You want to help me find a man?"
Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.
"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"
It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.
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You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  
At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.
"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.
Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.
All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.
The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.
"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."
"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.
"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."
It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.
"Please don't go."
But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.
"You're running out of time, punk."
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The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.
For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.
But it still hurt.
A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.
But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.
"Get out of the car."
You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.
He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.
"No."
He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.
"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."
His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.
Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.
"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.
The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.
"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.
But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.
"What's gotten into you?"
"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."
You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?
"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."
The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.
"Let me take you home."
As if you had a choice.
You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.
So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.
But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.
"You're unhappy."
"No shit."
"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."
"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"
You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.
"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.
He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.
But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.
"We're friends, Buck."
You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.
"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"
And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.
"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."
You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.
And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.
When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.
"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  
"Bucky-"
But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.
"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.
"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.
It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.
"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.
Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.
"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."
It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.
"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.
"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."
The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.
Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.
Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.
The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.
You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.
He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.
Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.
You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.
And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.
Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.
You're a vision.
Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.
There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.
He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.
And then the car jerked to a stop.
There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.
That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.
Bucky doesn't share your distress.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.
You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.
If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.
As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.
"This isn't my place."
His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.
"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"
And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.
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killakalx · 7 months ago
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17+ content, blank blogs dnf
jealous bsf!dick grayson but atp y’all are fwb. orgasm denial (both of y’all get off dw), begging, maybe manipulation on reader’s part? if you squint??, mild marking kink, poorly proofread
if you manage to make your best friend jealous? he's plotting to deprive you of your orgasm the next time you run to him. i swear it. balls deep, legs folded to your chest, clutching your face so hard your cheeks squish and make you sound all dumb on his cock when you beg. “aw, was he makin you beg like this too? did he have you crying on his cock?” and the thrusts get agonizingly slow, agonizingly deep, just to see how far he can make your eyes roll.
every time your breath hitches and the only sounds you can make are those silent whimpers while your pussy flutters around his cock, he’s burying himself inside you and simply grinding. just enough to keep you on edge. no where near enough to let you fall over the edge. he’ll edge himself if it means turning you into a pathetic and whimpering mess, bucking your hips against the force of his holding you down, but he’s not giving you the pleasure you visit him for until he sees tears swelling under those pretty lashes.
“I should leave you just like this,” he’s contemplating, though he doesn’t really mean it. the petty in him wants to get back at you, make you get a taste of what you’d go through without him, but it’s an empty threat. “‘s that what you want? just use you to get off and send you to what’s-his-name for that O you want so bad?”
when your whimpering gains a bit of coherency, letting him make out the sorry’s and please’s that tumble from your lips, he’s back to the first pace. right back to square one, groaning against your neck before slapping your cheeks a few times, encouraging you to keep eye contact. “yeah, what’s his name, baby? who’re you running to every time you need this cunt fucked right?”
“‘s you, dick,” you weakly nod in his grasp, gasping when he reinforces the grip around your jaw. “you fuck me so good, dick, please. god- please, dick. ‘m sorry...” dick groans and pushes your face away, as if retreating to the crook of your neck once he’s fucked the apology out of you.
“that’s right,” he emphasizes with a fake tone of realization, sloppy open-mouthed kisses littering your collarbone. you can tell he wants to mark you up, teeth grazing your skin and almost nipping at you like a puppy— and you’re closer than you’ve ever been this whole night, so it’s not slipping away again.
“‘m sorry, dick,” you whine into his ear again, long nails scratching the hair above his neck and holding on to the mess of raven black. “he won’t touch me again, promise.” you’re so desperate that you swear to him he’s the only one to make you feel like this, and the fact that it’s the truth is obvious to both of you, as sex dazed as you both are. his resolve falters when you tighten around his cock, and you figure that the low whine you draw out is a result of your words.
“mark me up,” you babble when the coil in your tummy comes back, “you can let them know. fill me up, let them know ‘m yours, dickie, please-“
and right now, dick wants nothing more than to do just that.
“shh- shit,” he groans in defeat, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass and hip. his cock twitches inside you as he huffs, “y’know I can’t- I can’t do that, doll.”
“you can-“ you cry, rolling your hips to get him impossibly deeper inside you as you moan. “‘m on the pill, dick. i want it.”
truthfully, you’re certain this is a bad idea in the long run, but in a moment of desperation and no immediate threat of your life falling apart, it doesn’t matter.
his free hand opts for covering your mouth instead of holding your jaw, muffling the temptations of your tongue to keep his sanity. needless to say, you’ve convinced him, given the pretty bruises bloom along your collarbone and chest before he could even make the conscious decision to do so. all he needed was that last bit to finally give you that blissful pleasure you’d chased for what feels like five hours.
the scene’s overwhelmingly intimate when he rides out your high with you, long and intense as you cling to his entire body. and he’s no better; he’s worse, if anything. his hand pulls you closer by the small of your back, deep moans filling your ears between words of him scolding you and that damned mouth as he fills you to the brim with his cock and cum.
“goddamn you,” he grunts, though he isn’t particularly upset. there’s plenty of questions he has now that his head is clear; most notably whether or not you two are still friends. he decides leaves it in the back of his head once he sees your lashes flutter from exhaustion, though. “do I need to pick something up?”
still dazed and out of breath, your laugh is barely audible, simply shaking your head and letting your head fall back into pillows. “I told you I’m on the pill.” he hums in realization that the fact was lost in the heat of it all, muttering a fake apology for the hickeys and going out of his way to ignore the way he leaks out of your puffy folds when he pulls out. ❧
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reidmotif · 1 year ago
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Behind Closed Doors
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Summary: Reader and Spencer are known to be a "tame" couple at work. They get fed up and decide to change how people see them.
Request: Reader and Spencer (in an established public relationship) where they don't do any PDA and you can hardly tell they're a couple. Reader and Spencer get offended, and decide to fool around to get caught.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, established relationship, semi-rough sex, dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, semi-public sex
Word Count: 4.8k
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Dating Spencer Reid, in a word, could honestly be described as a dream. 
When I’d started a career at the BAU, the last thing on my mind was dating, let alone dating my coworker, but Spencer Reid had subtly woven himself into the corners of my heart with his idiosyncrasies and musings, all without my awareness- and when he'd asked me out? Saying ‘yes’ was the easiest thing I’d ever done my entire life. 
He was ridiculously old-fashioned, and I loved it. He insisted on dinner dates and opening doors for me at any possible opportunity, and I was happy to let it happen. He was a gentleman at every turn, and made me feel special in ways no one had before. If I wasn’t already hopelessly infatuated with the man prior to our relationship, I certainly was now.
A year of dating, a year of loving Spencer Reid, and I honestly couldn’t see my life without him. We’d grown our lives around each other in little ways at first, and it resulted in us being tangled up in the sweetest way imaginable. 
And while my memory isn’t as capable as my boyfriend’s, I can recall in perfect clarity about how fucking good he is in bed. It shouldn’t have surprised me like it had the first time we had sex, but when he had me pinned down to his mattress, pounding into me unlike anyone before him, touching me whilst whispering dirty nothings in my ear, I knew I was a goner. It was simply another facet of Spencer Reid that further cemented my enduring captivation to the man. 
Of course, there were rules when it came to our relationship, considering that even for a blissfully happy couple, we still worked together. Spencer loved having his hands on me, whether it was innocent or not, but when it came to the BAU and public displays of affection, there was a mutual understanding between the two of us that some things were simply kept private. 
Which is why as we stood in the bullpen, side-by-side, we exchanged horrified looks when the surprise seminar that morning was about “inappropriate workplace relationships”. To our knowledge, we’d always kept the romance to a minimum in the office, stealing a kiss here and there when no one was around, or a squeeze of the hand, but nothing beyond that. However, as the moderator for the training began, we both sighed a breath of collective relief as she brought up some suspiciously specific scenarios, realizing today’s seminar was not in fact about us, but rather our coworkers, known for their raunchy telephone escapades, two of our coworkers who were most definitely not in a relationship. 
As we trickled out of the room, exchanging giggles about the very awkward display we were made to watch just now, a very mortified Penelope Garcia approached us.
“Who blabbed?” She asked, adorably frantic as Spencer and I simply smiled and shrugged. 
“Wasn’t us.” Spencer said, a bit and gesturing to me and him. He put his hand on my shoulder and I instantly felt relaxed with the comforting weight of him on me. I gave my own chuckle, naturally bringing my hand up to touch Spencer’s as I responded to Penelope. 
“I mean, you and Derek aren’t exactly quiet about what you do over the phone.” I said, a little mischievously. “I mean remember when Strauss picked up and-”  I started, only to be met with Penelope placing a distressed finger over my lips, hurrying to silence me before I finished my sentence. 
“Shh! I thought we promised to never speak of that godforsaken incident ever again!” Penelope whisper-shrieked, only to be met with my grin. 
“My bad.” I say, while trying to soothe Penelope. I then got a little serious, moving from Spencer’s subtle touch to get closer to her.  “It’s not that bad, Pen. I’m sure everyone will forget in due time.” I said, in my most assuring tone. Unfortunately, Penelope didn’t seem very swayed. 
Derek walked to where we were standing and chatting,  coming to protectively wrap his arm around a very miserable looking Penelope. 
“Did I just hear you say ‘it isn’t that bad’?” Derek said, using air quotes for his imitation of me, laughing as he pulled Penelope closer to him. He continued, “Because from where I was, you and boy genius looked pretty worried for a second.” 
Spencer answered a little defensively, “I mean, obviously.” He replied. “We’re the only ones in the BAU in a public relationship and it’s a surprise seminar on inappropriate relationships, why wouldn’t we think it’s about us?” He explained, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head a little. 
“Because you two don’t even look like a couple!” Penelope said, still sorrowful from her unexpected callout. “Of course it’d never be about you two!” 
“What?” I say, now matching Spencer’s defensive tone from before. “It totally could be about us! And we do look like a couple.” I say, crossing my arms and standing beside him now. 
“Sorry pretty girl.” Derek speaks up, “But Penelope is right. I don’t even think I’ve seen the two of you hold hands or kiss around any of us.” 
Spencer sputtered a little at that, “Obviously! We’re at the workplace!” He says, in a higher pitched tone, fortifying his stance against Derek’s allegations. "It's common to not show PDA in professional settings."
“True love waits for nothing, Einstein.” Derek teases, and then he laughs again. “Pipe down, Reid. I’m only joking.” Spencer seemed  to retract his opposing stance reluctantly, but then Derek added, “You and (Y/N) shouldn’t worry about being appropriate in the workplace, you know? You’re both more than proper when you're in or out of here.” He said, winking, speaking with a knowing tone. 
Spencer groaned at that, but before he could retort and deny Derek’s assessment of our relationship, Derek whisked Penelope away, presumably to console her further over today’s events, leaving me and Spencer just standing there. He looked a little on edge, and I placed a hand over his shoulder, squeezing it softly. I could instantly sense the words, on some level, had gotten to him, and wanted to nip his self-doubt and nervous spiral in the bud before it could even begin. 
“You know he was just joking, right?” I say, speaking gently. 
“I know.” Spencer responded, a little bitterly. “I just.” He stopped, taking a breath before continuing. “I just hate that’s how they see us, you know?” He says, frowning. 
“Well, trust me, Spence.” I say, in an attempt to cheer him up. “This relationship has been anything but proper from the moment we’ve been together.” I say this with a small smirk, hoping he’d catch onto the scandalous undertones of my words, which he did. 
He smiled a little, before murmuring, “Thanks.” I smiled back, and let my hand drop from his shoulder again. 
“C’mon, we got a case.” I say, and he dutifully followed me into the round-table room, the previous interaction with Derek seemingly wiped away from his mind for the rest of the day. 
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It wasn’t until a few days later, in the comfort of Spencer’s apartment, (which was honestly ours, at this point) where he spoke up about the incident again. He was lazily playing with my hair as I was sprawled on his couch, my eyes closed with my head in his lap, a documentary of Spencer’s choosing playing in the background. Truthfully, I was more focused on his fingers lightly trailing over my scalp, the sensation lulling me into a state of deep relaxation and serenity, rather than the droning voice of the narrator, until his voice broke my thoughts. 
“I just don’t know why Derek would say that.” He remarked, out of nowhere. 
“Say what, baby?” I say, opening my eyes slightly. I tried to remember if we’d mentioned Derek at all tonight, and when my memory came up short, I squinted, trying to think, “What are we talking about, again?” I attempted to actually look at him from my lower angle, reading his expression for any clues. 
“You know.” He says, continuing to play with the silky strands of my loose hair, “The thing about us being a boring couple.” 
Memories of the interaction came to mind, and I nodded and let out a noise of realization. “Ah, yeah. From the sexual harassment seminar.” I closed my eyes again, and laid back in his lap. “What about it, love?” 
“It didn’t bother you?” Spencer commented, and I opened my eyes yet again, to see the face of a man who clearly hadn’t brushed off the comment like I thought he had, days ago. 
“I mean, not really, baby.” I say, carefully, trying to not offend him. “But it’s okay if you felt bothered- but I really do think Derek didn’t mean anything by it.” I say, moving out of his lap so I could better see his face. 
“Yeah, I guess.” He says, quirking his mouth to the side.  “I just hate that they think we’re boring or-” 
“Even though we both know we definitely aren’t?” I say, laughing a bit. 
“Exactly.” He responds, with a little bit of a smile. “I just wish we could somehow, I don’t know. Stick it to them? Does that sound petty?” He says, chuckling now, and rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. 
“Not at all.” I say, quickly. “But it’s not like we can just, you know, start sucking face in the bullpen.” I joke, with a giggle. 
“That we cannot.” He replies, his mood seemingly a little more uplifted from when we began our conversation. “Still.” He says, pursing his lips. 
An idea came to my mind, and I grinned a little at the thought of it. I wanted to make my boyfriend feel better, to let him know at the very least nothing about him bored me in the slightest. 
“Spence.. what if we did anyway?” I say, coming closer to him with an excited lilt in my words. 
“Make out in front of all of our colleagues?” Spencer replies, with a chuckle. “(Y/N), I love you, but no way.”  He says, immediately shutting me down, but I shook my head. 
“No, like more than that.” I respond, quickly, as the gears in my head begin to turn. “What if we like.. pretend to have sex in a closet, let them think they know what’s going on in there, and walk out, totally unscathed.” I continue, a playful glint in my eyes.
It sounded absolutely crazy, but I could tell he was definitely considering it, especially susceptible to an idea like this one after what had happened a few days ago. 
“But we wouldn’t actually be having sex- right?” Spencer says, cautiously. “Just… pretending?” He adds, adorably, biting his lip. 
“Yeah.” I respond, instantly, soothing his worries. “Trust me, having sex in a closet in a federal building seems like a pretty solid fantasy, but I’m okay with leaving that to our imaginations for now.” I say, smiling a little wildly. “So is that you agreeing to it?” I question, looking at him eagerly. 
“I guess it is.” He says, the look on his face now matching the enthusiasm on my own, and he leaned over to plant a soft kiss on my lips. I immediately melted into him, moving to straddle his lap, smiling into each press of his lips against mine. His hands went to my hips, a broken moan escaping him as I felt myself move against a fast-forming bulge underneath me. He breathlessly pulled back, licking his lips. 
“Mm." He said, breathing a little heavier now. "What would you say to a practice round for our pretend session tomorrow- you know, just to get it right?” He murmurs, feeling his cocky grin against my lips. 
“Do you even have to ask?” I retort, smirking. 
My words barely left my mouth before he flipped me onto the couch, leaving me giggling delightfully and sighing with pleasure, as I felt him start a trail of wet, hot kisses down my neck, eliciting soft moans and whimpers that only spurred him on to do more to me. 
I closed my eyes with a dazed grin on my face as he continued his actions, knowing he’d take care of me tonight.  Spencer Reid, without a doubt,  was definitely the best boyfriend I’d ever had. 
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That morning in his apartment, Spencer was all smiles, even more touchy than he was normally if that was possible. He languidly wrapped his arms around my waist as I brushed my teeth, placing little kisses on the back of my neck as I tried not to laugh with toothpaste in my mouth.  
“Someone’s happy today.” I spoke, or at least attempted to speak, whilst he  attacked any exposed skin of mine with his soft lips. 
“Mm.” He grumbled deeply behind me, never once letting up on the task he’d delegated to himself: to somehow kiss every inch of my body before we even left the apartment.
“Maybe I’m excited about what we’ll be doing today.” He replies, clearly very satisfied with what we’d decided the previous night. 
There was a closet in Quantico, just off the hallways. It wasn’t an active hallway bustling with people, but oftentimes agents would come and go through there, and we both decided it provided just enough privacy so that people wouldn’t actually try to come into the closet- but open enough that at least one or two people were bound to hear us, and hopefully ease any concerns anyone had about Spencer and I being a “proper” couple. 
I giggled. “You know Spence.” I move away a little to spit my toothpaste out and rinse my mouth. “You’re a bit more of an exhibitionist than I pegged you for.” I said, a giggle in my voice. 
He wrapped me up in his arms, bringing me as close as he possibly could. “Sure I am.” He mumbled in a sarcastic tone, kissing the top of my head. 
I smile, speaking into his chest, trying to hold back my laughter.  “I don’t hear you denying it.”
“Shhh.” He said, before letting me go with a smile on his face. “We’re not even actually having sex in the closet. It doesn’t count.” He called out, biting his lip with a boyish smile, the type that made me want to jump his bones here and now.
“Whatever you say!” I respond, with a sing-song voice, flashing him a grin before going to get changed for work. 
Throughout the day, I could see Spencer just itching to carry out our plan. He kept making those eyes at me and I’d shake my head, silently communicating that now wasn’t the time. I could see him grumble and lean back in his desk chair, barely able to focus on his work. I giggled at the thought. My genius boyfriend, unable to do simple tasks because the idea of faking sex to get back at our coworkers rendered him stupid. 
As Emily would say, “An IQ of 187 slashed to 60.” 
Finally, after lunch, and less eyes were on either of us, I subtly caught his gaze, tilting my head in the general direction of the closet, and he nearly leapt from his seat. I silently thanked the Gods above that he didn’t draw anyone’s attention, what with how eager he was acting, as we quietly made our way towards the closet. As soon as we were out of the bullpen, and the long, empty hallways of the BAU, he laughed as he unexpectedly stole a long, passionate kiss from me, his lips pressing against mine insistently. I pulled away after a few seconds, thrilled. 
“What was that for?” I ask, with a dazed grin on my face as he continues to walk me to the place of our imminent rendezvous, nearly dragging me there by a firm grip of his hand in mine. 
“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Spencer retorts, smugly. 
“Oh, you can kiss her.” I responded eagerly. “I am not complaining whatsoever. Just curious." I said, squeezing his hand lovingly.
He quickly pressed his lips against mine one more, so quickly I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. "I'm just excited, I think." He responded. There was a puerile smile on his face, as he led me further and further away from any of our colleagues and towards our final destination. 
As he opened the closet door, he shot me one final look.
“You’re actually okay with this, right?” He asks, surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his previously excited nature. 
“Second thoughts?” I respond, raising an eyebrow.
“No, no.” He said, laughing. “I just want to be certain that you’re good with this.” He implores, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles absentmindedly. He gave a sigh, biting his lip.  “I know you’re doing this for me and I-” 
I immediately silence him through interruption. “Spencer. I want to do this.” I said, softly. “Please.” I add, conveying that while, yes, this was for him in some roundabout way, pretending like I wasn’t absolutely exhilarated at what we were about to do would be a gross misrepresentation of the situation. 
He seemed to relax at that, grinning a little bit. He let out a little breath of air. 
“Come on.” I urged. “Don’t you wanna make sure the team never calls us dull again?” I said, smirking and egging him on the best I could. 
He nearly shoved me into the closet as he opened the door, with a laugh. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
He placed me in front of him, and we stood face to face in the cramped space. I could feel his breath on me, hear the beat of his heart and I knew that there was no part of me that was hesitant about this. On the other hand, Spencer seemed a bit.. confused. His smile faded, before he knit his eyebrows together. I watched him bite his lip, before pressing them together in a straight line. 
“How do you fake sex in a closet?” He paused. “Do we just.. moan?” He said, tentatively, looking to me for direction.
I decided to just go for it, giving an almost pornographic moan. “Oh, yeah! Right there, oh!-” 
He quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. “(Y/N), what the-” 
I removed his hand with a giggle. “Come on." I urged. "Be loud, it’s what’ll work.” I say, grinning, before letting out a higher pitched moan, attempting to recreate what I normally sounded like during sex. “Yes, Spencer! Please! Please!” I moaned, closing my eyes and really getting into what we were attempting to recreate. 
I could feel Spencer watching me, and heard him breathe before moaning out himself. “Yeah, you like that, you whore?” He groaned out, a little flatly, but groaned out convincingly, nonetheless and I could tell he was enjoying himself. 
“Yes! Yes!” I nearly screamed out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” I moaned, in an exaggerated manner. “More, please!” I said, trying to beg just as much as I did when Spencer was actually fucking me. 
We continued this back and forth for a minute or two, and I grinned internally. Anyone who happened to walk past the closet would’ve definitely heard our faked passion, and to be honest, I was into it. Having people know how well Spencer treated me, it made my heart jump, and I could feel myself clenching around nothing at the thought. My eyes were shut, as to immerse myself in the fantasy more, and my moans only got louder, pitchier, more desperate with every passing second. 
It wasn’t a few moments later that I realized that I was the only one making noise, Spencer going quiet, and I noticed the absence of his soft breathing that was there previously. I opened my eyes, to find an incredibly wide-eyed, embarrassed Spencer, looking right at me. 
“Shit, I’m sorry (Y/N).” He said, awkwardly shuffling. “I didn’t think- it’s just- your moans sound so good and-” 
I knit my brows in confusion at his words before my eyes trailed down, revealing the strained fabric of his slacks, his cock tenting inside them at an alarming rate. His eyes met mine as I scanned them back up to look at him, and he stifled a groan. “Fuck.” He murmured. 
“Look, you can just leave.” He said, a little defeated. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. I can't go out like this." He said this while already moving away from the door, motioning for me to leave. 
My lips parted as I shook my head. “No.” I whispered, stepping even closer. “Fuck me. Let me help you." I murmur, placing both my hands on his shoulders and rubbing them soothingly, before starting to kiss his neck sweetly, with feather-light touches.  
Spencer rolled his eyes. “(Y/N). Don’t tease me right now. Especially right now.” He whined out, craning his neck as I planted soft kisses on the skin. The rest of his body leaned into me, desperately seeking the relief my touch brought him. 
When I began sucking at a particularly sensitive spot of his, I earned a throaty moan from him, his head thrown back, and his hands grabbing my waist and pressing our bodies flush together. 
"I'm not teasing." I mumble against him. "I want you."
“Fuck. I’m serious. I’m this close to just-” He spoke, his voice low, but I didn’t want him to be logical about this. I wanted this now. I  interrupted his words with a deep, long kiss.
It seemed to work, his lips crashing into mine, over and over again, like this would be the last time we could ever savor the taste of the other again. As grabbed my face, lips moving ferociously over mine, his grip shifted so he could pin me up against the wall. I moaned into his mouth as his hands trailed down, squeezing the fat of my hip unexpectedly, and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, lazily exploring my mouth with his own. When we finally pulled back for air, I whispered against his lips. 
“Do it. Please.” I croaked, already grabbing the fabric of his shirt. “Please, fuck me Spencer. Use me. I need you right now.” I wanted to sound as desperate as I felt, the heat between my legs growing unbearable at this point, my clit already wildly throbbing with need. 
“We’re in a closet. Someone could catch us." He quietly groaned out, but I could see the restraint leaving his body with every moment he looked at me. He looked wrecked already, hair strown about messily, his lips red and swollen, chest moving up and down. The only sounds in the closet at this point were my pants and his heavy breathing to accompany it. He took another look at me, my eyes blown out and pleading for him, and it seemed like every barrier in his body suddenly broke.
With no warning,  he spun me around so my back would be towards him, pushing me up against the wall as he hurriedly worked away the button of my jeans.  I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter with anticipation, and when he worked my underwear down my legs, I could sense that I was already dripping, even though he'd barely touched me.  
He seemed to be doing the same undressing to himself, working at his slacks with his deft fingers, and I whimpered when I felt his heavy cock slot between me, the head of his tip running through my folds. I could feel how needy I was for him in this moment, and he seemed to enjoy the sight of my legs spreading just for him. He leaned over to let his finger trail over my slit, collecting some of my arousal on my finger. My thighs immediately quivered at the sensation, a loud moan escaping my lips. 
I felt him grab the back of my skull, forcing me to bare my face to hip. 
“Open.” He commanded, and my mouth hung open, almost as if I was under a spill. He roughly shoved his finger into my mouth, and I understood, closing my lips around them, swirling my tongue around his digits, praying that he’d fuck me soon. 
“Good girl.” He said, smoothly, and I nearly fell over from how weak he was rendering me, but a steady grip on my hair kept me upright. When his finger was sufficiently cleaned, he removed it and kissed me once more, smashing his lips aggresively into mine. I kissed him back, but in that moment, there was really only one thing I wanted. 
“Spencer, please.” I panted in between his never ending kisses. “I need you inside me.” I moaned, trying to convey the enormity of my desire for him. He chuckled at my pleads, pulling my hair so I’d be forced to look ahead of me instead. The anticipation absolutely killed me, and I brokenly moaned again, about to beg once more before he suddenly thrust into me, eliciting a yelp from my lips, which I immediately swallowed down as he began to jut his hips against mine. 
“That’s it. Go on, take it.” He whispered, roughly. “You were made for this, weren’t you?” He questioned, cruelly. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He goaded, going harder and harder with every word he uttered to me in the closet, my desperate attempts to stop my whimpers not being received well by him. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” He sneered, continuing to buck against me. “Didn’t you want the whole team to know what a whore you are for me?” 
I tried to keep my restraint, a low mewl escaping my lips, but that seemed to incentivize him to go even faster, the sounds of our skin slapping against each other filling the room, the smell of sex overtaking every one of my senses. 
“Come on, baby. I wanna hear you.” He then groaned once more, and I could feel how bad he wanted this, how badly he wanted me. The thought made me clench around him, which elicited another moan from his mouth. “I want everyone to hear you.” 
It was like a dam broke through me, and in an instant I was moaning, louder than I had that whole time in the closet, my noises marked by a carnal desire for this, for him. 
“Please, oh god. Spencer- I need to cum, please.” I begged, my mouth hanging open as he fucked me dumb. 
He chuckled at my loss of prudence, rewarding me accordingly. He moved his fingers down to where we were joined, beginning to rub fast, tight circles around my clit. 
“Go on, then.” He murmured. His hips never once wavered, and I could feel his grip on my hips, so tight I was sure there'd be bruises tomorrow. “Come for me.” 
I did, nearly toppling down as waves of my orgasm hit me, convulsing in his arms as I registered the feeling of him continuing to slam against me. I braced myself on the wall, letting him take me the way he wanted, and I could hear his broken moans and whimpers echo throughout the closet.
"Fuck. You're so good." He groaned out, and I let out a low whine at that, which transformed into a sob as he bottomed out in me, making me feel so full. In an instant, I could feel warmth flooding my deepest point, his hips beginning to slow down and still entirely. He pulled out of me, still panting. 
“Holy shit.” He murmured, still panting, watching as the evidence of what we’d just done dripped down my thigh. He helped me out of my bent over position as I smiled at him, dazed. 
“Holy shit, indeed.” My voice came out hoarse, scratched up from how loud I’d been screaming for him. 
“Remind me why we don’t do this again?” He said, grinning and breathless. 
“Something about professionalism?” I offered, still absolutely fucked out as I tried to regain some semblance in my appearance. One look at Spencer and I, and it wouldn’t take long to figure out exactly what we’d been doing. 
“Yeah, somehow after that, I don’t really care about professionalism.” He said, before pulling me into one last, idle kiss. He felt safe, and it felt so good to be with him like this. 
“Good.” I murmured, when our lips finally separated. “Because I don’t think I’d be able to survive if we only did this once.” I said, giggling. 
“Wanna go again?” He offered, raising an eyebrow and running a hand through his hair. 
Let’s just say that the closet became a frequent spot of ours after that. And with how loud I was screaming his name every single time? It’s safe to assume everyone else knew about it too. 
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EDIT: read part 2 (where they get caught!) here!
sorry about the wait this time around! i try to keep my fics within a week of each other, but i've got some life commitments to attend to now. (unfortunate). i hope you guys enjoyed this though!! <3 likes, reblogs, comments, are all greatly appreciated. thank you for all your support<3
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gotta-winwin · 7 days ago
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OT13 Reaction -- to winning at MAMA awards
masterlist
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a/n: in celebration of our boys winning both AOTY awards at MAMA last night. i am so incredibly proud i feel like i raised them or something. like guys- it is that serious they are my family and im going insane.
SCOUPS: you're the first one he's calling once he's offstage - he's dialling your number and a whole string of nonsense rattles off him the moment you pick up. he can't string together proper words as you congratulate him. tells you how fucking happy the boys are - you should've seen them, love - did you see woozi crying? and DK - he smiled so big - needs you to bring him back to earth and remind him that this is his award too. he deserves it just as much as they do.
JEONGHAN: he's literally been bored out of his mind as you guys sit at home, watching the award show live. the only times he's acc been paying full attention was whenever groups he knew personally were on screen - and even then - you know you're losing him to how tired he is. lets out the tiniest, babiest gasp when seventeen is announced as the winner. is crying but turns away so you can't call him out on it.
JOSHUA: he runs home to you right after their dinner together and collapses into your arms. he's spent from the sheer chaos and adrenaline. mumbles sweet nothings about how this award is also yours. we won, baby. we share everything - this award is because of you - all because of you.
JUN: he's hiding out in his filming trailer so he can watch the award show through your phone on facetime - it's grainy and glitchy as HELL but he does not care. there's a 3 second lag when seventeen's announced as the winner - so he can hear you screaming but he doesn't know why. his mouth drops once the wifi catches up and he's practically glowing the entire day on set.
HOSHI: comes home wasted and a bundle of pure energy. he's on a high from the win- rushes home to yell into your ear how ecstatic he is as he tackles you for a hug. tells you he's literally so down to name your firstborn child AOTY just cause.
WONWOO: he comes home rather calm despite the chaotic evening he just had. runs you through his whole day- from getting his makeup done to winning the award to having celebratory dinner. you sit and listen happily, cause this is the most yapping you've ever seen this man do and you're SO happy. finishes his yap session by telling you that you make it all worth it - you're the real award, not MAMA.
WOOZI: tells you not to watch their acceptance speech even though he knows you already did :( is uber embarrassed at how emotional his speech was. I was gonna go up and accept it like a nonchalant cool mysterious man but NO! I just had to cry. he doesn't talk about the win much to you, preferring to just enjoy a quiet night in after the crazy evening. whispers to you once you fall asleep that this is why he does music and thanks you and the boys for being his biggest fans.
THE8: sends you the badass photo of him with all their trophies, followed with a long paragraph about how grateful he is to have you next to him through it all. he's unbelievably bright and happy for the next couple weeks, resulting in you kind of missing sassy Hao and asking for him back. side eyes you when you ask and quips "you didn't win a daesang- I did." Well...he's back ig.
MINGYU: comes home and the first thing he says to you is: aren't you proud i didn't cry? pouts when you rewind the clip to point out: he did in fact cry, he was just hiding his ginormous body behind his members. vows to you he won't cry the next time they win- and yes, he promises there will be a next time. and many after that.
DK: a bundle of joy upon his arrival home. keeps telling you he doesn't know what he did to deserve all this- completely floored when you start ranting about why he deserves it all. blushes and hides his face cause the compliments have him shy.
SEUNGKWAN: comes home fully ready to unleash his bragging rights. asks you to only address him by AOTY daesang winner for the next hour, until the joke gets old and he just wants to relax with you. gets a little sappy retelling stories about their trainee days as you both walk down memory lane together.
VERNON: hands you a wad of cash the moment he enters your shared apartment. oh well. i lost the bet. he literally bet against his team winning and ofc you took him on it cause obv seventeen is gonna win?? tells you he was confident svt was going to win he just wanted an excuse to give you cash.
DINO: promises to shout you out the next time svt wins a daesang. obv you don't believe him, so he defends himself, promising that he will 100% name drop his girlfriend on global television for shits and giggles. yeah, i'll just grab the mic and say "i dedicate this award to my WIFE" and watch the internet explode. why not?
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verstappen-cult · 9 months ago
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Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument
“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back. 
That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next. 
You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore. 
“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out. 
You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.” 
Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave. 
*
It’s past eight when you get home. 
The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house. 
Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches. 
The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles. 
When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light. 
“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him. 
Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”
“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders. 
“What?”
“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks. 
You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him. 
“I don’t want to be like him.”
“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?” 
But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything. 
“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes. 
“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again. 
“Can you forgive me too?” 
“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears. 
“Do you forgive me?”
Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?” 
“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”
A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”
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mattscoquette · 3 months ago
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𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑬 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶
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𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 .. you storm out on your boyfriend during a fight in the rain, resulting in you regretting leaving so angrily
major angst !!, arguing, crying, swearing, car crash, somewhat descriptive head injury, takes place in a hospital room
1.8k words
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rain fell hard against the apartment windows, a large strike of lightening flashing through the night sky, lighting up the living room momentarily, before the dull light from above the stove was the only thing illuminating the room you and matt were arguing in.
“you are so selfish,” you said harshly, looking at matt across the table with daggers in your eyes as you angrily cleaned up dinner, “i slave away all day for you, and all you talk about is yourself. no thank you’s, no offers to help, nothing.”
matt scoffed, running a hand through his messy hair as he looked up at you. he had a long day of meetings and planning video ideas with his brothers, and his patience was wearing thin by the time he’d gotten home, resulting in him snapping at you during dinner. “i’m selfish? are you serious? you do nothing all day, you fucking lay around my house, spending my money, and you’re calling me selfish?”
you rolled your eyes, taking matt’s plate away from him, even if he wasn’t done yet. “oh, and like you’re working so hard? you fuck around with your brothers for a living, i don’t understand why you’re so moody all the time. i know if i were making the money you did while doing nothing, i’d be a lot more fucking chipper than you.”
that did it for matt. he pushed himself away from the table, nearly knocking his chair over in the process as he stood up. “you’re just- you’re ridiculous, you know that? you are the most ungrateful, entitled person i’ve ever met in my life.”
you glared at him, opening your mouth and closing it. you angrily dumped the dishes into the sink and headed towards the stairs, grabbing your shoes and hastily putting them on. you heard matt walk over to you as you kept your gaze down, blinking back the tears.
“baby, don’t go i-” matt pleaded, his tone softer as he reached for your arm.
“save it,” you snapped as you turned to face him, pushing his hand away, “i’m going home, since you obviously don’t want me here.”
he sighed, following after you as you hurried down the steps to the front door. “please, i don’t want you driving when you’re so upset, you can sleep on the couch or something.” he called after you, trying to catch up.
you were already out the door, the rain soaking you as you quickly made your way to your car. matt had caught up to you and placed his hand on the car door, stopping you from opening it.
“matt,” you shrieked, “stop it!”
“no,” he said, looking down at you, keeping his hand firm, “i’m not letting you drive like this.”
you scowled up at him, forcing his arm off of the door. your clothes began to cling to your body from the rain. “i can’t stand you.” you spat.
for a moment his face dropped, his hand falling to his side, before quickly looking angry again. he threw his arms up in frustration, stepping to the side to let you go. “fine, just fucking go then, i don’t care.”
you shoved him out of your way and climbed into the car, not even bothering to buckle in, reversing out of the driveway as fast as you could. you sped down the road, wanting nothing more than to just curl up into your own bed alone and cry.
you felt hot, angry tears slip down your cheeks as you drove down the windy roads leading home, the rain falling so hard you could barely see a foot in front of you. your windshield wipers moved at top speed back and forth against your front window, washing the rain off as quickly as it fell.
you recalled the way matt looked so angry when he told you to leave, causing you to cry more. you and matt had never argued like you had tonight, and it began to eat you alive. what if you two were actually done? you couldn’t lose him, he was your absolute everything. you both always promised one another nothing would ever come between you two, but after tonight, you weren’t so sure anymore.
you felt yourself crying even harder, your vision blurring as you continued to drive in the storm. you hadn’t noticed the large pot hole in the road until it was right in front of your car, causing you to swerve out of the way at the last second. your car slid across the slick pavement, spinning out of control before slamming hard into a nearby telephone pole head-on. your head hit the steering wheel with a sickening thump.
a loud ringing vibrated through your head, your vision blurry as everything suddenly felt so far away. you closed your eyes, reaching for your phone, before everything went black.
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a bright light shone down on you as you slowly blinked, hearing the faint sound of men mumbling. your eyes fluttered open as you took in your surroundings. white walls, the steady beeping of a heart monitor, a thin curtain enclosing you in your bed. a hospital room. how had you gotten here?
you sat up slowly in an attempt not to dizzy yourself as you tried to recall what had happened. you remember the rain and the pothole, but why had you swerved so suddenly? what had you so distracted? you begin to remember crying angrily after an argument with matt. oh.
“hello?” you called out faintly, looking around for a doctor, a nurse, somebody.
the curtain was pulled back, a man in a white coat with a clip board smiling down at you. “glad to see you’re awake, miss y/l/n, right?”
you nodded as he continued to speak. “you gave us quite the scare last night, do you recall anything that had happened?”
“i, uh, i remember my car spinning out and hitting something. that’s about it though.” you mumbled as you looked up the man, pulling your knees up to your chest, “where’s matt?”
the doctor furrowed an eyebrow.
“my boyfriend,” you told him, “we were fighting last night and i’d left his house and-”
“oh, matt,” the doctor hummed, “he’s been here since last night in the waiting room. the emt called from the ambulance.”
“the ambulance?” you asked, sounding confused, “how’d they get there?”
“you had been able to call 911, but you passed out on the phone with them. an ambulance and police car had been sent to your location immediately.” the doctor replied.
you stared blankly at the wall as you took all the information in. you don’t remember passing out, or the ambulance. you can’t really remember anything clearly, other than how upset matt was with you. “can i see matt?” you asked quietly.
the doctor nodded, writing down on his clipboard, “yes, but it has to be brief, we have to run some more tests before we know how long we need to keep you for.”
you blinked up at him, offering a weak smile as he disappeared, closing the curtain behind him. a few minutes later, the curtain was pulled back hastily, revealing matt. he was still in his soaked clothes from the previous night, his hair messy and eyes bloodshot.
“oh, baby,” he whispered, frozen as he took in the sight of you. a large bandage was wrapped around the top of your head, and a purple bruise was starting to spread along your forehead. he walked over to you and dropped to his knees beside you, cupping your face gently. “i’m so sorry.”
you immediately began crying, wrapping your arms around matt’s neck as he pulled you into his embrace, holding you tight. he repeatedly kissed the side of your head, mumbling into your hair as he, too, started to cry. “i’m so sorry, my love, i’m sorry.”
you sobbed hard into his shoulder, clinging onto him tightly, gently pulling him up into the bed with you from the floor. “lay with me, please.”
matt carefully crawled into the bed beside you, holding onto your for dear life as he cried into your chest, soaking your hospital gown. “i shouldn’t have let you leave.” a large sob ripped through him as he clung to you tighter. his arms wrapped around your waist, burying his face against you. “i didn’t mean anything i said last night, i’m so sorry.”
“matty,” you cried loudly, hiding your face in his hair as you gasped for air in between sobs, “i don’t deserve you, thank you for coming.”
he bawled against your chest, picking his head up to look at you. his once blue eyes were now red, and his face tear stricken as ran his thumb across your cheeks. “no, no, no,” he whimpered, “don’t say that, please, it’s my fault you’re in here.”
you sniffled as matt gently wiped your tears away. "it’s not your fault," you whispered. "i shouldn't have left. i was so angry, and i lost control of the car."
“i know,” he mumbled, continuing to wipe your tears, “but i let you leave. i didn’t try to fight you on it.”
you tugged him back down into your chest, crying into his hair as you hugged him tightly once more. “yes you did,” you sobbed, “i was too stubborn. i’m sorry.”
“don’t be sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling into your neck as he hugged your waist tightly, “i should have never said any of those things to you last night to make you want to leave, i was in the wrong.”
“i said mean things too,” you mumbled through the tears, “i was so mean.”
"i don't care anymore." matt blubbered against your neck, his tears dampening your skin. he clung to you desperately, as if trying to mold himself with you so he'd never have to leave your side again.
the two of you continued to cry against one another, holding each other tightly as you both sobbed until you physically couldn’t anymore. matt pulled away from your neck, his cheek resting on your shoulder. he looked up at you, softly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i love you so much, baby, so much.”
you sniffled, closing your eyes. “i love you too, matty, i’m so sorry.”
“me too,” he whispered, leaning up slightly to press a gentle kiss to your jawline, “i didn’t mean a single thing i said to you last night, i swear. i was just having a shit day and i took it out on you. i’m sorry.”
you nodded, your eyes fluttering open to meet matt’s gaze. "i forgive you," you whispered, gently running your fingers through his hair. "i’m sorry for what i said too. i’m just... i’m terrified of losing you."
“baby,” he murmured softly, shifting to lie beside you at eye level. his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, “you’re never gonna lose me, i promise you.”
“promise?” you repeated quietly, outstretching your pinky finger, watching as matt interlocked it with his.
"promise." he whispered, maintaining eye contact as he leaned in to kiss your interlocked fingers.
© mattscoquette
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: dawg tell me why i legit cried while writing this i’m too emotional for angst bc wtf. anyway i hope u all enjoy! this is very much inspired by the book “if he had been with me” which i highly recommend reading <//3 even tho i cried. lmk if u guys like the angst maybe i’ll do more bc i don’t rlly do angst a lot! love u all so so much
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