#this took HOURS because i made way too many gifs lol

[reidmarieprentiss]

hii wondering if you could write a little something about to how spencer would react to an undercover mission going wrong with his gf??<3 whether she’s on the mission alone or together with him is up to you

Where We Were Meant to Be

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: kidnapping, guns, typical case talk, break ups (not spencer), feelings talks, being injured

Word count: 7.8k

a/n: i took a little bit of creative liberty with this one i hope that's okay! it's spencer's best friend that he just so happens to be in love with heheh --- also this is meant to be a treat because i only posted once yesterday <333

main masterlist

Spencer Reid was a man of many secrets, but the one that weighed the heaviest on him was the love he harbored for you. It was a love that grew quietly over time, nurtured by the countless hours spent together, the late-night conversations that often veered into deep, uncharted emotional territory, and the shared experiences that bonded you in ways that words could never fully capture.

Everyone at the BAU knew how close the two of you were. It was impossible not to notice. From the way your eyes would light up whenever Spencer entered a room to the ease with which you could communicate without saying a word, it was evident that you shared a connection that transcended the ordinary.

"You two are like two halves of the same brain," Derek would often joke, a knowing grin on his face as he watched you and Spencer exchange another one of your silent conversations.

"Or the same heart," Penelope would add with a playful wink, causing you to blush and Spencer to give her a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

But despite the teasing, no one knew the depth of Spencer's feelings. No one knew that every time you smiled at him, his heart ached with a longing that he buried deep within himself. No one knew that every time your hand brushed against his, he had to remind himself that it meant nothing more than friendship—because that was all you could offer him.

You had a partner. A good one, at that. Spencer had met them a few times, and he couldn't find a single flaw. They were kind, intelligent, and treated you with the love and respect you deserved. It made things easier and harder all at once. Easier, because he knew you were happy, and that's all he'd ever wanted for you. Harder, because he couldn't help but wish that he were the one to make you feel that way.

But Spencer was nothing if not practical. He had always been good at compartmentalizing his emotions, and he used that skill now to keep his feelings in check. He accepted your relationship with grace, never once letting on that every "we" you mentioned with your partner's name attached chipped away at his heart. He forced himself to focus on the friendship you shared, cherishing every moment, every laugh, every secret confided.

In his quieter moments, Spencer allowed himself to dream. He imagined what it would be like to be the one who held your hand as you navigated life’s challenges, to be the one who made you laugh on your hardest days, to be the one you turned to when the world felt like too much. But those dreams were fleeting, and he always pushed them away, reminding himself that you were happy, and that was what mattered.

One evening, after a particularly tough case, the team decided to unwind at Rossi's place. The atmosphere was relaxed, the tension of the day slowly dissipating as everyone gathered around with drinks in hand. You sat next to Spencer, your shoulder lightly brushing against his as you leaned in to whisper something that made him chuckle softly.

"See, this is why you're my favorite," you teased, poking him playfully in the side.

"Flattery won’t get you anywhere," Spencer replied, his voice tinged with affection as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a moment too long.

You caught it, your smile softening as you reached out to squeeze his hand. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Only because I have the best friend," he responded, squeezing your hand in return before letting go, trying to ignore the way his heart raced at the simple contact.

The night continued, filled with laughter and stories, but Spencer couldn’t help but feel the weight of his unspoken feelings pressing down on him. It was a bittersweet sensation, knowing that he would never be able to tell you the truth, that he would never be able to cross the invisible line that separated friendship from something more.

As the evening wound down and people started to leave, you lingered behind with Spencer, helping him clean up the remnants of the gathering. It was something the two of you often did, slipping into a comfortable rhythm as you worked side by side in silence.

Once the dishes were done and the living room tidied, you both collapsed into your car, a comfortable silence settling between you.

"Thanks for sticking around," Spencer said, his voice soft as he turned to look at you.

"Of course," you replied, meeting his gaze with a tired smile. "You're my person, Spencer. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Your words hit him harder than you could have imagined. He swallowed, forcing himself to smile even as his heart twisted painfully in his chest. "And you're mine," he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You rested your head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh as you closed your eyes. Spencer remained still, afraid to move, afraid that the moment would shatter if he so much as breathed too loudly.

In that moment, Spencer allowed himself to believe, just for a second, that things could be different. That maybe, in another life, in another world, he could be the one you chose. But as your breathing evened out, signaling that you had fallen asleep, he knew that such thoughts were futile.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled back, his heart heavy with the weight of what could never be. 

And so, he continued to keep his secret, burying it deep within himself as he held onto the one thing he could have—your friendship. It wasn't everything, but it was enough. It had to be enough.

—

The briefing room was unusually quiet as Hotch laid out the details of the mission. The tension in the air was palpable, the seriousness of the situation evident in the way Hotch’s voice took on that hard, steely edge he reserved for the most dangerous of cases. You sat next to Spencer, your hands folded neatly in your lap, trying to keep your expression neutral as the reality of what was being asked of you sank in.

The unsub had escalated, and the BAU was running out of time. The only way to catch him was to go undercover, to insert yourselves into his world, to become the very thing he was hunting. And for this, Hotch had chosen you and Spencer to pose as husband and wife.

The room emptied out after the briefing, but Spencer lingered, his brows furrowed, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. He looked at you, searching your face as if trying to find a way to convince you to change your mind before he even spoke.

“This is too dangerous,” he began, his voice low and urgent. “You shouldn’t go. We can find another way—there has to be another way.”

You reached out to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Spencer, we’ve been through worse. We can handle this.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his voice trembling slightly. “This isn’t just another case. This is… it’s different. If something goes wrong—if he even suspects for a second that we’re not who we say we are—” His voice caught in his throat, and he looked away, swallowing hard.

You squeezed his arm, trying to anchor him. “Spencer, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he turned back to you, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperation that broke your heart.

“We’re the best shot at stopping him,” you said gently. “You know that. If it were anyone else, I’d be just as worried. But it’s us. We’ve got this.”

His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. “But what if something happens to you? I couldn’t—” He stopped, his breath hitching as he tried to compose himself. “I couldn’t live with that.”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, at the raw vulnerability he was showing you. “Spencer,” you whispered, stepping closer, “I know it’s risky. I know you’re scared. But I’m scared too. And that’s why we have to be careful, why we have to trust each other.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, but the fear was still there, clinging to him like a shadow. “I do trust you. It’s just… I can’t lose you.”

The intensity of his words hung in the air, a confession of something deeper, something unspoken between you. You felt your heart twist, knowing how much he cared, how much he had always cared.

“You won’t lose me,” you promised, your voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “We’ll go in, do what we need to do, and get out. Together.”

He nodded slowly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t diminish. “Promise me you’ll be careful. No risks, no heroics.”

You smiled softly, trying to ease the tension. “I promise. We’re in this together.”

The days leading up to the mission were a blur of preparations, briefings, and final checks. Spencer was quieter than usual, his mind clearly racing with thoughts of what could go wrong. You tried to stay focused, knowing that you both needed to be sharp for this to work.

When the day finally arrived, you found yourselves in a small, nondescript hotel room that served as your cover. The ruse was simple: you and Spencer were a newlywed couple, traveling through the area, the perfect targets for the unsub’s twisted games.

The charade was almost too real, the way Spencer’s hand rested on the small of your back as you entered the hotel lobby, the way he leaned in to whisper something in your ear as you checked in. The familiarity of it all was both comforting and disconcerting.

The hotel room’s dim lighting cast a warm glow over the space, but it was nothing compared to the light in Spencer’s eyes as he looked at you. You had just finished getting ready for the final phase of the mission, slipping into the elegant dress that completed your undercover persona as the charming, newlywed wife. As you turned to face him, adjusting the last of your jewelry, Spencer’s breath seemed to catch in his throat.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. There was a softness in his tone, a tenderness that seemed to seep into every syllable. His eyes, those expressive hazel eyes, were locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. The mission, the danger, the need to keep up the pretense—it all faded into the background. All that mattered was the way Spencer was looking at you, with so much love and adoration that it was almost overwhelming.

But then, as quickly as it had surfaced, Spencer seemed to reel it back in. He blinked, his expression shifting as he forced a small smile, trying to play it off. “I mean, it’s… it’s perfect for the mission. You look exactly like someone who would turn every head in the room.”

You could hear the faint waver in his voice, the way he tried to rationalize the emotion he had just displayed. He chalked it up to the nature of the mission, to the need to sell the story, but deep down, he knew there was more to it.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that were bubbling just beneath the surface, unspoken but undeniably present.

Spencer nodded, averting his gaze as he adjusted his tie, trying to focus on the task at hand. But the way his hands trembled ever so slightly, the way his jaw clenched as he fought to regain his composure, didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. “We’ll be okay, you know,” you said, trying to reassure him, to reassure yourself.

He looked up at you, his eyes once again filled with that same deep, intense emotion. “I know,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “As long as you’re with me, I know we’ll be okay.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with unspoken words and hidden desires. It was as if the world had paused, holding its breath as you both stood on the precipice of something that could change everything.

But then, with a deep breath, Spencer forced himself to step back, his professional mask sliding back into place. “We should get going,” he said, his voice firmer now, though there was still a lingering softness in his eyes.

You nodded, trying to push down the emotions that were threatening to spill over. “Right. Let’s do this.”

And as you left the room together, hand in hand, the lines between mission and reality blurred just a little more, leaving you both wondering what would be left once the dust settled.

—

The situation had spiraled out of control so fast that it felt like a nightmare, the kind where everything you feared the most came true. One moment, you and Spencer were navigating the careful dance of your undercover roles, blending into the crowd at the lavish party where you hoped to catch the unsub off guard. The next, everything went dark—both literally and figuratively.

The unsub was smarter than they’d anticipated. He saw through the act, his twisted mind zeroing in on your every move, every glance exchanged with Spencer. And then, in an instant, the plan unraveled. The lights flickered, and when they came back on, you were no longer standing by Spencer's side. You were in the unsub’s grip, his arm around your throat, his gun pressed against your temple.

“Spencer!” you cried out, your voice filled with a terror that tore through him like a knife.

Spencer’s heart stopped in that moment. The blood drained from his face as he saw you, saw the fear in your eyes, the way you struggled against the unsub’s iron grip. His mind raced, every possible scenario playing out in rapid succession, each one worse than the last. He could feel his entire world crashing down around him, the panic setting in, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

“Let her go!” Spencer’s voice was raw, desperate, his hand reaching out instinctively as if he could pull you back to him by sheer force of will. “You don’t want to do this. We can help you. Just—just let her go, please.”

But the unsub only sneered, tightening his hold on you, dragging you backward toward the exit. “Help me? You’re the ones who need help. You think I didn’t see through your little charade? You think I didn’t know?”

Spencer felt his knees buckle as he watched the unsub’s every move, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t. The thought of it was too much, too overwhelming. He tried to take a step forward, but the unsub jabbed the gun harder against your head, making you gasp in pain.

“Stay back, or I’ll blow her brains out right here!” the unsub snarled, his eyes wild with a dangerous mix of paranoia and rage.

“Please,” Spencer begged, his voice cracking, his eyes pleading as he tried to reason with a man who seemed beyond reason. “Don’t hurt her. You don’t have to do this. We can talk, we can—”

But the unsub wasn’t listening. He was already backing out of the room, dragging you with him. And then, before Spencer could react, you were gone—thrown into a nondescript van that peeled away from the curb, leaving Spencer standing there, frozen in horror.

The moment you disappeared from sight, something in Spencer snapped. He was a man undone, no longer the composed, brilliant profiler but a man in the throes of utter despair. He spun around, his eyes wild as he looked at the rest of the team, who had arrived just in time to witness the tail end of the horror show.

“We have to find her!” Spencer’s voice was a shout, laced with a hysteria that made everyone in the room tense up. “We have to find her now!”

“Reid, we’re going to do everything we can,” Hotch said, his voice calm and steady, trying to contain the situation, but it only seemed to fuel Spencer’s rage.

“You sent her in there!” Spencer roared, pointing an accusatory finger at Hotch, his voice trembling with fury and anguish. “You sent her in there, and now she’s gone! You did this!”

“Spencer, we’ll find her,” JJ said softly, trying to step in, but Spencer wasn’t hearing it. His mind was a blur of panic, grief, and guilt. All he could see was you, the terror in your eyes, the way you had been dragged away from him.

“No! You don’t understand!” Spencer was nearly hysterical now, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his face as he continued to lash out. “She’s out there alone, and it’s our fault! We have to get her back! We have to—” 

“Reid, stand down!” Hotch commanded, his voice taking on a sharper tone, but it did nothing to calm Spencer.

“No!” Spencer screamed, his hands shaking as he pointed at Hotch again. “You don’t get to tell me to stand down! You don’t get to tell me to do anything after what you’ve done!”

Hotch exchanged a quick glance with Rossi, who gave a small nod, understanding that Spencer was too far gone, too deep in his emotions to be reasoned with right now.

“Reid, go back to the hotel,” Hotch ordered, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. “We’ll handle the search. You need to stand down.”

But Spencer didn’t move. He just stood there, shaking, his eyes wild and red-rimmed, the pain etched so deeply into his features that it was almost unbearable to look at. He wanted to fight, to do something, anything to bring you back. But all he could do was fall apart, right there in front of everyone.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he finally gave in to the grief that was tearing him apart. “Please bring her back.”

“Go back to the hotel, Reid,” Hotch repeated, softer this time, but still with that commanding presence. “We’ll find her.”

Spencer didn’t want to go. Every fiber of his being wanted to stay, to fight, to tear the city apart if that’s what it took to find you. But he was too broken, too shattered to argue anymore. So, with one last, desperate look at Hotch, he turned and left, his heart heavy, his mind spinning with every horrible possibility.

Back at the hotel, Spencer was a man possessed. He couldn’t sit, couldn’t think straight. He paced the room, his thoughts running in endless circles, every one of them coming back to you and the unimaginable fear that you were out there, somewhere, hurt or worse. The room felt too small, too suffocating, and he found himself screaming, yelling out your name, cursing at the walls as if they could give him answers.

When the anger wasn’t enough to dull the pain, the tears came full force. He collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed, the grief pouring out of him in waves. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t. The thought of it was too much, and yet it was all he could think about.

Hours passed, though it felt like an eternity, and still, there was no word. No update. No sign of you. Spencer felt like he was drowning in the silence, the waiting, the not knowing. Every second that ticked by felt like another piece of him being torn away, until there was nothing left but the hollow shell of a man who had once been whole.

When the phone finally rang, Spencer lunged for it, his heart in his throat as he answered, his voice shaking with desperation. 

But it wasn’t you. It wasn’t even news about you. It was Hotch, telling him to stay put, telling him that they were still searching, still trying to find you. It was a command wrapped in reassurance, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside Spencer.

“Just bring her back,” Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible, broken. “Please, bring her back to me.”

And as he hung up the phone, Spencer curled up on the bed, clutching your jacket that still held the faintest scent of you, and prayed with every ounce of his being that you would come back to him, that this nightmare would end, and that he wouldn’t lose the most important person in his life.

—

Spencer was pacing the floor of the hotel room, his mind a whirlwind of fear, guilt, and desperation. The silence of the room felt like it was closing in on him, pressing down on his chest until he could hardly breathe. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the only thing keeping him from completely unraveling was the hope that the team would find you before it was too late.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he nearly fumbled it in his haste to answer. “Derek?” he gasped, his voice tight with panic.

“Reid        , we think we found her,” Derek said, his tone serious but laced with urgency. “She’s at an abandoned warehouse on the east side, just off of River Street. We’re heading there now.”

Spencer didn’t wait for another word. He grabbed his keys and bolted out of the hotel, the thought of you in danger propelling him forward with a speed he didn’t know he was capable of. The drive to the warehouse was a blur of speeding cars, red lights he didn’t bother stopping for, and the singular focus of getting to you as fast as he could.

When he pulled up to the warehouse, he barely threw his car into park before he was out the door, sprinting toward the cluster of agents and medics near the entrance. The sight of them only made his heart race faster, a mix of relief and dread coiling in his stomach.

“Where is she?” he shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation as he pushed his way through the crowd.

The sight of you nearly brought him to his knees. You were lying on a stretcher, your body bruised and battered, your face pale and drawn, as if the life had been drained out of you. The medics were working quickly, checking your vitals, hooking you up to an IV, but all Spencer could focus on was the faint sound of your voice, weak and trembling, as you mumbled incoherently.

“My love,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “Where is my love?”

The words broke Spencer’s heart into a thousand pieces. He rushed forward, ignoring the shouts of the other agents as he made his way to your side. You were so fragile, so small against the harsh metal of the stretcher, and all he wanted to do was gather you in his arms, protect you from the world, from everything that had hurt you.

The medics began to wheel you toward the ambulance, but as they moved, you caught sight of Spencer, your eyes fluttering open just enough to recognize him. Despite the pain, despite the exhaustion that weighed you down, you tried to sit up, your hand reaching out toward him as if he were the only thing that could keep you tethered to life.

“My love,” you said again, your voice cracking with emotion, your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him.

Spencer was at your side in an instant, grabbing your extended hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’m here, I’m right here,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held onto you like you were his lifeline.

The medics glanced at Spencer, recognizing the emblem on his jacket, the desperation in his eyes. “I’m riding with her,” Spencer told them, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The medics nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. They helped Spencer climb into the ambulance, making room for him next to you as they continued to work. Spencer never let go of your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your bruised knuckles, his heart breaking at the sight of you so weak, so vulnerable.

As the ambulance sped away, sirens blaring, Spencer leaned in close, his voice soft and soothing as he whispered to you. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, your gaze locking onto his as you tried to muster the strength to speak. “I was so scared,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to his hand.

“I know,” Spencer said, his own voice cracking as he fought back his tears. “I was too. But you’re safe now. We’re going to get through this, okay? I promise.”

You nodded weakly, your eyes drifting shut again as exhaustion took over. But even as you slipped into unconsciousness, you kept your hand in his, holding on as if he were your only anchor in the storm.

And Spencer held on too, refusing to let go, refusing to let the fear, the guilt, the overwhelming emotions consume him. All that mattered was you—keeping you safe, getting you through this. He couldn’t think about anything else, couldn’t allow himself to imagine a world where you weren’t with him.

As the ambulance raced toward the hospital, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his voice a quiet promise in the chaos. “I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them, before he could overthink them.

But it didn’t matter now. There was no taking it back, no more hiding how he felt. And as the ambulance tore through the night, Spencer made a silent vow that he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, to bring you back to him—because losing you wasn’t an option. Not now. Not ever.

—

The antiseptic smell of the hospital was a sharp contrast to the warmth of Spencer's presence beside you. The sterile environment only emphasized how vulnerable and fragile you felt, lying in the hospital bed with a sling supporting your broken collarbone. The pain was manageable, dulled by the medication the doctors had administered, but the emotional whirlwind you were caught in was another matter entirely.

Spencer had been there since the moment you arrived, never leaving your side. His eyes, red-rimmed and exhausted, had stayed fixed on you, watching over you with a mix of concern and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. He was a mess of emotions—fear, relief, and something bordering on anger, though you knew it wasn’t directed at you.

You were just beginning to doze off when a nurse entered the room, gently informing you that your partner had arrived. Your heart clenched at the words, not out of relief or comfort, but out of a confusing sense of dread. Spencer’s hand tightened slightly around yours, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but one that spoke volumes. He was still there, still holding onto you, but you could feel the shift in the air, the way his grip loosened as the footsteps approached.

When your partner stepped into the room, their eyes filled with worry and love, Spencer immediately withdrew his hand, standing up to make room. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his jaw clenched as he forced himself to step back, to let go.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” your partner said softly, their voice sincere as they looked at Spencer with genuine gratitude.

Spencer nodded stiffly, the bitterness in his expression barely hidden. “Of course,” he replied, his voice tight. “It’s what anyone would have done.”

But you knew that wasn’t true. Spencer had done more than anyone else would have, more than your partner could even begin to understand. He had been your anchor in the storm, the person you had instinctively reached for when you were at your weakest. And now, with your partner standing there, all you could think about was how much you had wanted Spencer—needed Spencer—when everything was falling apart.

Your partner leaned down to kiss your forehead, their touch gentle, comforting. But it wasn’t the same. It didn’t ignite that spark inside you, didn’t calm the commotion in your heart the way Spencer’s presence had. Your mind kept replaying those moments in the ambulance, when Spencer had whispered those three words that had changed everything.

“I love you.”

The weight of those words settled heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t meant the world to you when he said it. But now, looking up at your partner, you felt trapped between two worlds—one where you were safe, where everything was familiar, and another where your heart was pulling you toward something deeper, something more complicated, something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

Spencer stood there, watching the exchange with an expression that broke your heart. You could see the pain in his eyes, the bitterness that he was trying so hard to hide. He had given you everything he had in those terrifying moments, and now he was being pushed aside, as if all of that meant nothing.

But it did mean something. It meant everything.

“Spencer…” you began, your voice soft, uncertain.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, waiting for something—anything—that would tell him what you were feeling, what you were thinking. But you didn’t know what to say. You were too confused, too overwhelmed to put your emotions into words.

Your partner squeezed your hand gently, drawing your attention back to them. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” they whispered, their voice filled with relief.

You nodded, trying to smile, but it felt hollow, forced. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m okay.”

But as you looked back at Spencer, you knew that you weren’t okay. Not really. Because all you could think about was how much it had hurt to watch him leave, to see the pain in his eyes as he stepped back, knowing that he was walking away from something that had just barely begun.

Spencer took a step toward the door, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “I should go,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “You need time with your partner.”

The word "partner" seemed to catch in his throat, and you could see the way he flinched as he said it, as if acknowledging their presence hurt more than he could bear.

You wanted to call out to him, to tell him to stay, to tell him that what he had said in the ambulance had changed everything for you. But the words wouldn’t come. You were too afraid, too unsure of what any of it meant, or what it would mean if you acknowledged it out loud.

So you said nothing, letting him walk away, letting him leave the room with a heavy heart and a bitterness that you knew was only going to fester.

As the door closed behind Spencer, you felt a tear slip down your cheek, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. Your partner was still there, still holding your hand, still trying to comfort you, but it wasn’t enough. Because the person you needed most had just walked out the door, and you didn’t know if you had the courage to bring him back.

—

When you returned to work after your medical leave, there was a part of you that was eager to get back to a sense of normalcy. You thought that once you were surrounded by your colleagues, by Spencer, things would start to feel right again. But from the moment you stepped into the bullpen, you knew something was different.

Spencer was there, of course, as he always was—dutiful, courteous, offering you a small, polite smile as you walked in. He asked how you were feeling, made sure you had everything you needed, even went out of his way to help you catch up on what you had missed during your absence. But there was a distance to him, a careful politeness that felt foreign between the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible barrier between you, one that he had constructed with precision and intention.

He wasn’t your Spencer anymore. He was still the brilliant, kind-hearted man you knew, but the easy closeness, the spontaneous laughter, the silent conversations that you had once shared—those were gone. And as much as it pained you, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it. You were too afraid of what you might find out, too scared that if you asked him what was wrong, you would only confirm your worst fears.

So you stayed quiet. You forced yourself to smile when he spoke to you, even though his words were measured and distant. You nodded along when he offered advice or assistance, even though the warmth you used to feel in his presence was replaced by a hollow ache. But the more time passed, the more you began to realize that this wasn’t just about Spencer pulling away—it was about what that distance did to you.

It felt like half of you was missing, like you were a shell of yourself without him by your side. You’d never felt this way with your partner, not even when they were out of town or during the rare arguments that led to hours of silence. There was something about Spencer, something about the bond you had shared, that had become an integral part of who you were. And now that it was gone, you were lost.

It was that realization that led to the end of your relationship. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when your heart was somewhere else, when the person you thought you loved couldn’t fill the void that Spencer’s absence had left. Breaking up with your partner was one of the hardest things you’d ever done, not because you were still in love with them, but because they were such a genuinely kind-hearted person. They deserved better than to be with someone whose heart wasn’t fully in it.

When you sat down with them, your voice shaking as you tried to explain, they listened with a quiet understanding that made you feel even more guilty. “I’ve known for a while that something was off,” they said softly, their eyes sad but not angry. “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “You didn’t deserve this.”

They shook their head, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. “You don’t have to apologize. I’d rather you be honest with yourself—and with me—than stay in a relationship that doesn’t make you happy.”

Their kindness only made the pain of ending things more acute, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t keep living a lie, couldn’t keep pretending that you were in love when your heart was somewhere else. And as much as it hurt, you felt a strange sense of relief when they walked away, knowing that you were finally free to face the truth.

But now that the relationship was over, you were left with an even bigger question: What do you do about Spencer? The very person who had unknowingly driven you to this decision was the one you felt you had already lost. The thought of telling him how you felt was terrifying, especially when you weren’t sure if there was anything left between you to salvage. Would he even care, or had he already moved on, content to keep you at arm’s length for the rest of your lives?

As you sat alone in your apartment that evening, the silence pressing in on you, you found yourself picking up your phone, your fingers hovering over Spencer’s contact. You wanted to call him, to tell him everything—to tell him that this whole mess had made you realize just how much you needed him, how much you missed him, how much you loved him.

But fear held you back. Fear that he wouldn’t feel the same way, fear that he would reject you, fear that you had already lost him forever.

In the end, you put the phone down, your heart heavy with the weight of your unspoken feelings. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to move forward. All you knew was that you couldn’t keep living like this, trapped in the limbo between what you had lost and what you could never have.

But as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, you made a silent vow to yourself: You couldn’t let things end like this. Spencer had meant too much to you for too long to let him slip away without a fight. And even though the thought of confronting him scared you more than anything, you knew that you had to try. You had to tell him how you felt, even if it meant risking everything.

Because losing Spencer without ever telling him the truth—that was something you couldn’t bear.

—

Spencer sat in his reading nook, surrounded by books that had once brought him comfort but now served as a distraction from the thoughts he couldn’t escape. The words blurred together as he tore through page after page, trying to keep his mind occupied, to drown out the memories of you, the sound of your voice, the way you used to laugh at his terrible jokes. It wasn’t easy, keeping you at arm’s length, but it was the only way he knew how to protect himself. He couldn’t endure watching you be with someone else, not when every part of him yearned to be the one you turned to, the one you loved.

The soft knock on the door startled him, pulling him out of the world he had tried so hard to lose himself in. His heart raced as he set the book down, a sense of unease settling over him as he stood up. He wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all you.

When he opened the door, the upper chain still in place, his breath caught in his throat. “Y/N?” he asked, his voice full of surprise.

You stood there, looking up at him with an expression that was both determined and vulnerable. It was clear you had made a decision, one that had led you to his doorstep on a Friday evening, one that had left you standing there, waiting for him to let you in.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your chest. “I think we need to talk. Can I come in?”

He hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with the implications of what this conversation might bring. But the sight of you, the sound of your voice, was too much for him to resist. He needed to hear what you had to say, even if it meant reopening wounds he had tried so hard to close.

With a sigh, Spencer undid the chain and opened the door fully, stepping aside to let you in. “Of course,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with the familiarity of your presence.

You stepped inside, taking a deep breath as you crossed the threshold. The air in the apartment was thick with unspoken words, with the tension that had been building between you for weeks. You could feel it, the weight of everything you hadn’t said, everything you were about to say.

Spencer watched as you took a moment to compose yourself, his heart aching at the sight of you in his space, a place you had once felt so at home in but that now felt foreign, distant. He wanted to reach out, to close the gap between you, but he held back, reminding himself of the boundaries he had set.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” you said, turning to face him, your eyes searching his for any sign of what he was feeling. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I have a lot to say, and I kept repeating it in my head. I was driving myself insane,” you laughed a bit at your own expense.

Spencer nodded, his throat tight as he gestured for you to sit on the couch. He took a seat across from you, his hands clasped together in his lap as he waited for you to speak, his heart pounding in his chest.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, the ones that would convey everything you had been feeling, everything you had realized over the past few weeks. “Spencer, I know things have been different between us since I came back. And I know it’s because of me, because of what happened.”

He opened his mouth to protest, to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, that he had been the one to pull away, but you held up a hand, stopping him.

“Please, just let me finish,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about what we had, and what we lost. And I realized that… I realized that I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not. I miss you, Spencer. I miss my best friend.”

His heart twisted at your words, the pain of losing you sharper than he had expected. “I miss you too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… it’s complicated.”

“I know it is,” you said, leaning forward, your eyes locking onto his with a determination that took him by surprise. “But that’s why I’m here. I need you to hear me out.”

Spencer nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he braced himself for whatever was coming next.

You took another deep breath, your heart racing as you finally found the courage to say the words that had been weighing on you for so long. “I ended things with my partner.”

His eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. “You did?”

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief at finally saying it out loud. “Yes. I did. Because I realized that I couldn’t keep lying to myself, or to them. I realized that the reason I was so unhappy, the reason I felt like something was missing, was because… because I was in love with someone else.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he tried to process what you were saying. “Y/N…”

“I’m in love with you, Spencer,” you said, your voice steady now, the weight of the truth lifting from your shoulders. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time I think, and it took almost losing you to realize that. I don’t know how you feel, and I’m terrified that I’ve already lost you, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. You deserve to know the truth.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as your words hung in the air, the enormity of what you had just confessed settling between you. Spencer’s mind raced, a thousand thoughts colliding all at once, but the one thing that stood out above everything else was the overwhelming relief, the joy, that came with hearing you say those words.

You loved him. You loved him.

“Spencer, please say something,” you whispered, your voice trembling now as the fear of rejection crept in.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—relief, love, fear. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “that I didn’t think it was possible for you to feel the same way. I’ve been trying so hard to protect myself, to keep my distance, because I didn’t want to get hurt. But all it did was hurt me more, because all I wanted was to be close to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words sank in, as the truth of what he had been feeling all this time became clear. “Spencer…”

He stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides, and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as if he was afraid you might disappear. “I’m so sorry for pulling away,” he whispered into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I need you in my life, Y/N. I need you more than anything.”

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as the tears finally spilled over. “I need you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with relief, with love, with the overwhelming emotion of finally being in his arms again.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, holding onto each other as the weight of everything you had been through, everything you had felt, finally began to lift. 

“Please don’t ever pull away again,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

He shook his head, his thumb gently brushing away your tears. “I won’t. I promise. I’m done hiding.”

With that, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was long overdue, a kiss that spoke of all the love, all the longing, all the unspoken words that had been building between you for so long. It was a kiss that sealed the promise of a future together, a future where you didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to hold back, a future where you could finally be with the person you loved.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Spencer rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped around you. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. And I’m never letting you go again.”

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered, the words feeling right, feeling true.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice full of conviction, full of the certainty that this—being with you—was where he was always meant to be.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[f1girliefics]

Their Reaction to You Being Pregnant - Preferences

A/N: Both planned and unplanned pregnancies below.

Daniel Ricciardo

It was a planned pregnancy and yet it hit you like a truck. You have been trying for so long, you almost gave up.

You planned a special dinner and even bought a special gift for him.

Little socks.

You gave it to him during dinner and watched as his face morphed into confusion.

"Isn't this too small for me to wear?"

"For you, perhaps, but not for our little one." you put him out of his misery as his smile grew bigger and bigger and tears fell from his eyes.

He would be so proud to finally become a dad.

Max Verstappen

Your pregnancy was unplanned but it was a nice surprise.

You had a stable relationship and you did talk about children before.

The way you told Max was not cute or romantic, you just basically blurred it out one day while watching TV.

"Come on Max! Your baby mama is craving some popcorn."

Oops.

He was shocked but then you spoke again. "I'm pregnant." to confirm what you just said.

Once he is able to close his mouth and talk, he will tell you that he is indeed happy.

"I just can't believe it!" he said.

"With the way you behaved for the entire summer break... I'm not shocked." you gave him a wink as he handed you the popcorn.

Fernando Alonso

He always wanted you.

Even if you were years younger. You didn't care about his age, you loved him.

It was a complicated love with many headlines.

Your pregnancy became one of the biggest, claiming you are a gold digger.

But Fernando didn't care for the headlines. He loved you and your baby.

Even if it was an unplanned baby, it was definitely not an unwelcome one.

"I would do anything for the two of you." he promised you the day you told him about your pregnancy.

Lance Stroll

You told him about your pregnancy on his birthday.

At first, he didn't believe you, but then he would be so thrilled he picked you up and spun you around for two minutes.

You had to tell him you would throw up if he didn't put you down.

Lewis Hamilton

You two would be trying to have a child for years when you finally get pregnant.

Both of you would be told by your doctor after weeks of hope due to your symptoms.

He would be so happy, he would shed many tears and he would be unable to stop hugging you.

On your way home, you would stop by to start and plan your baby's room.

George Russell

He would be in the middle of a meeting when you texted him. He could only check your messages after the meeting. George would drop his phone upon seeing the picture you sent.

5 pregnancy tests, all positive.

He would pick up his now broken phone and call you, rushing to his car to go home.

But you picked up the phone and you sounded so happy, it made all his worries lift off of his shoulders.

"We are having a baby George! I'm so happy!"

All his worries and doubts, out the window, the second he heard your laugh.

George will never forget that moment and how he cried of happiness at a red light.

Lando Norris

You two constantly joked about you getting pregnant.

When you started using pills instead of condoms, it was a constant joke between you two.

Lando did like to play with the idea of getting you pregnant.

But neither of you was serious until you took a test.

Positive.

"Okay, that is only a little plastic, the doctor needs to confirm." he would say and the next day you would be at the doctor's.

And the doctor did confirm, you were indeed 3 weeks into your first pregnancy.

You two sat in the car after the visit in silence.

Your mind was empty yet is was filled with thoughts.

"Let's grab something to eat before we go home." he would finally speak, making you look at him, you smiled when you saw the happiness in his eyes.

All your worries were gone because you knew you two can do this.

Oscar Piastri

To say that your pregnancy was a shock would be an understatement.

Both of you stared at the result for hours in silence.

Then, you finally spoke up. "Well, at least now we know I don't actually hate you."

He would laugh. He would laugh so hard that tears would fill his eyes.

You and your baby will be in good hands. Oscar would be the best father ever.

Carlos Sainz

You were on a vacation in Spain when you started to feel sick. You thought it would pass but Carlos insisted on visiting a doctor. This is when the news of your pregnancy hit you.

You didn't speak much Spanish, but that word, you understood.

Almost like a truck, it knocked all air out of your lungs.

When the doctor left, you turned to Carlos.

"Looks like we will have a little one running around soon." he spoke as he laughed but tears also left his eyes. "I'm so happy." he said, finally calming you down.

Charles Leclerc

After getting Leo, you didn't even talk about babies anymore. You were happy where you were in that moment.

But of course, the universe and a heated night had different ideas.

Your pregnancy was confirmed by the doctor and now you just needed to tell Charles.

You travelled to his upcoming race and had a plan.

But that plan all went out the window the moment he finished first.

Suddenly you completely forgot about everything and everyone as he hugged you close and you told him.

"Now our baby can say their father is number one!" you didn't even realise what you said.

"You're pregnant," he said and you nodded, crying from happiness. "PREGNANT!" he yelled as suddenly the trophy in his hand wasn't the most important thing.

[satowooo]

DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING? g. satoru

contents. angst, almost a second chance romance.

Fumbling with Gojo Satoru was the biggest mistake one can ever make. Unfortunately, the biggest mistake you ever made.

High school love… will probably be the last time you'll ever fall in love again. It swept you off your feet, got your heart jumping off your chest as it beat loudly towards the man you pine over, the love that turned your darkest days to a full ray of sunshine, to the point that it felt so unreal. So surreal. So perfect.

How did you let that happen?

So crossing paths with the man you deeply and greatly love, even until today, brought so many memories back to your mind. As a gust of wind blows past your face, a flashback of what once was got your heart reeling and clenching, as Gojo Satoru walked right past you.

Walk right towards a stranger. Towards a woman.

With a smile on his face that tells you, “I've moved on.”

And then there's the bittersweet taste in your tongue, as you stared so hopelessly still in love, hopeless still in pain over the smile that used to be yours.

“Did you like her in the morning? Right before the sleep left your eyes?”

“Toru, wake up,” You said as you left featherlight kisses on his cheek.

There was a small smile that crept on Satoru's face, pulling you closer to his embrace as he leaned in to your kisses. Then, he slowly rubs his nose against yours, his eyes still closed as he murmurs, “Just a bit more.”

A satisfied hum left your lips as you stared at his sleepy state, with his eyes still closed as the two of you drowned into each other's embrace. It was the quiet and calm atmosphere that you loved most during this hour, and the light smell of breakfast spreading through the air from the kitchen, and most of all, the look on Satoru's face as he slowly opens his eyes.

He blinked once to rub the sleep away from his eyes, and then there's the sincere smile across his face. The way his eyes softly stared at you, full of love and the genuine emotions that always show his affections, and you swear you could stay like this forever. His eyes were always too vocal, that always seemed to tell you that there was nothing else he knows other than to love you.

“Good morning, love.”

Did he do this with her too?

“Did you laugh over cold cups of coffee? That you hate but still drank anyway.”

Satoru was never a coffee drinker, but he'd force himself to drink one just because he sees how you loved it. Despite how coffees always keeps him up at night, and how his sleeping schedule was already messed up as it was, he'd still do anything just to make you smile.

“One Americano, and a Hazelnut Brew.” The waiter said as he placed the two cups of coffee at your table. You gave him a small smile and a ‘thank you’, then stared unknowingly at Satoru’s choice of drink.

“Are you sure you're drinking that?”

“Of course. It's good to have a little caffeine in my system every now and then.” Satoru would say smugly, sipping on the straw nonchalantly.

You watched the way he slowly tasted the drink, anticipating his reaction at the black coffee that is now running on Satoru's throat. You watched the way he slowly moves the cup away from his lips, and back on the table with an uneasy look that he tried to mask with a tight smile.

Don't get him wrong. It's not that the drink didn't taste good—it was perfect—so perfect that this might be the last time he'll ever let his tongue taste something so foreign to his buds. Satoru shivers, before he looks at you helplessly.

“Is it bad?” You chuckled.

“Good. Good…” He pouted, taking another sip as he looked away to avoid your gaze. It was so easy to read Satoru, and it warmed your heart even more that he was willing to do this just for the sake of nothing, just Satoru being your Satoru.

“We can switch drinks–”

“Absolutely not. I told you, it taste sooooo good!” The exaggeration was so evident in his voice as he took a long sip, ending with a cough and a frown on his face that made you laugh even more.

And now, you could only laugh painfully at the memory.

It was always a wonder to you ever since you two broke up. Did Satoru ever change? Did Satoru ever try coffee at least once in his life again while you were away just to taste the bittersweet memory of your love that didn't last? Did Satoru ever force himself to drink a good cup of coffee on a blind date just to impress the lady sitting opposite from him, and ended up having thoughts of you instead?

Did he ever force himself to sit down, alone, in a coffee shop downtown and stared out the window, in hopes that someone could ring the cafés door, just to see it was you?

Because you did. Every single time you did. Your time stood frozen, slowed down inside a small shop, your coffee gone cold as you feel that familiar looming aura in your chest. It aches, and it aches, and it aches so bad. And you're staring at the space in front of you, where Satoru used to be.

“Did you like her touch at night time? Did all the pretending help you forget? Was she weightless in just your sweater? And does it feel heavy now to look at me instead?”

It's torturing, seeing him happy with someone else, which should've been you, could've been you. That smile would have stretch on his lips for you, because it had always been for you.

But now is different. Now is just you, eyes focused on the road ahead, where there was no Satoru walking on the same path, and him, walking in the direction right past your shoulder. And he didn't glance at you. Didn't seem to notice that it was you who was only a touch far away as he took a step. Didn't seem to know that it was his greatest love that brushed past him.

“Did your hands find her waist when she got sloppy? After just a few Manhattans in Berlin, would you kiss her goodnight, would you walk her inside? Did you hope the nights would never ever end? And again.”

“What's wrong, Satoru?”

His head shot up at the voice. Luna, his date, looked at him worriedly. He had been going on dates for quite a while now, after finally and barely getting over the break up that had occured years ago. And Luna was the first girl he had a second date with after the many failed attempts of other blind dates, that turned into another date. Until a month passed with her.

To Satoru, she was perfect. He didn't want to admit it. To him, everything will always be about you. But now, he's trying to make it seem like it's not, as he focused on everything about Luna instead.

“Nothing's wrong.” He smiled forcefully to assure her. He grabs her waist, leading her around the bustling crowd of the city to go on about their date. And she gives him a smile, a smile that always made him feel guilty.

“But answer the question, did you like her in the morning?”

At some point, maybe he did. He liked that feeling of the morning kisses and the smell of coffees and pancakes. He loved that quiet night time of nothing but the sound of their breaths, and the beat of their hearts. He liked the soft touches and taking her home, and kissing her forehead.

He liked the feeling.

But he was cursed. In every corner, every unknown face, every single girl he met, he will always try to find them in you. He liked the feeling, but it was never with you.

And he knows, whatever he had with this new girl, it will never last. Like it always did after you happened.

Because he's looking back. He's tilting his head to glance at your direction, clenching his fist as he stops himself from calling, from asking how you were, from pulling you back to him.

Just like you, he didn't know if you saw him cross paths with you. He hopes you noticed. He hopes you knew it was him. He hopes you'd look back too. Yet, he also hopes you wouldn't look back either, and see him with another, because it will pain him to see the look on your face, whether it be pain or acceptance.

This will always be the cruelest reality that the two of you will never accept. Satoru will always hope that it was you right next to him. And you will always hope that you have never let him go.

oh well...

[justagalwhowrites]

Undone

After a stressful week at the office, Joel knows just how to take care of his wife. AKA Joel Miller doms the stress out of you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU. Established relationship, husband and wife. Dom!Joel x Sub!Reader (light). Tiny little age gap (like 5 years? I'm picturing Joel at 44 and reader at 39?) Unprotected P in V sex. Oral sex, F receiving. Creampie. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Length: 5.4k

A/N: This is totally self indulgent. It's also like... entirely smut. Sorry. But not really. OK love you bye!

Joel knew what you were after the minute you kicked the door closed. 

It was Friday and it had been a hell of a week for you. Joel had done his best to support you through it - he’d finished up one big job on Tuesday and didn’t start the next one until Monday - so he’d taken the lead on keeping the household running while you put in extra hours and came home frustrated and exhausted every night. 

He knew it wasn’t going to magically be better just because it was Friday, so he’d spent the day trying to make the end to your work week as good as he could. He went to the HEB and got your favorite snacks, picked out flowers for the kitchen table, even went by the liquor store on the way home to get everything you’d need to unwind at the end of your day. He started smoking ribs early that afternoon and was outside to sauce them when he heard the door slam behind you. 

Joel didn’t need to see what happened, he knew from the sound that you’d thrown the door open and then kicked it shut behind you. He’d bet the check from his next job that you’d be face down on the couch, your shoes and briefcase a little trail from the front door to the living room. He shook his head, taking a swig of Shiner before closing the smoker and heading inside to find his wife. 

You were exactly where he thought you’d be, taking up almost the entire length of the couch, flat on your stomach, blazer still on but your heels and bags scattered between you and the front door. 

“Aw baby,” he said sympathetically. “That great a day, hm?” 

You made a sound that was caught somewhere between a grunt and a groan. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

You made the sound again and Joel tried not to laugh at it. 

“Here,” he said, coming and adjusting your legs so he could sit beside you on the couch. You groaned as he did but he guided you from lying on your stomach to sitting up to leaning on him, your face in his chest. He put his arm around you and gave you a squeeze. “Tell me what melted down.” 

“We have our quarterly earnings release going out in less than two weeks,” you sighed. “And it’s a shit show. Legal’s been reviewing that shit for what feels like an eternity and I need to issue the goddamn release announcing the date of the full release but I can’t do that until I actually know that legal and financial are going to have stuff sorted in time and the CEO has emailed me twice a day about it the whole week because sure, the legal team definitely falls under my department…” 

Joel held the still mostly full bottle of beer in front of you and you took it from him, your fingers brushing his and you were quiet for a moment as you took a sip before handing it back. 

“Also, HR is going to be the death of me,” you continued, on a tear now. “I swear, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a qualified entry level candidate but here we are, still short staffed 10 weeks after I got the OK to hire. They’ve sent me two resumes, Joel. Two. I called them today to ask how many they’d received and they’ve had 226 candidates apply and they’ve sent me fucking two! I refuse to believe that just one percent of applicants were remotely qualified so I asked them to forward me all the applications since, apparently, recruiting can’t do their damn jobs so I’m going to have to do it for them…” 

Joel nodded along, handing you the beer periodically when he felt you getting too worked up. He found himself, not for the first time, awed by what you did for a living. He didn’t understand much of it, really, and he was thankful he didn’t need to. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of shit. You, on the other hand, had jumped in with both feet when you’d started at your company seven years ago when the two of you had just started dating, You’d risen up the ranks quickly and you now had a team of several dozen people reporting up to you. As gentle and sweet as Joel knew you to be at your core, he knew you were also unflinchingly driven at work. During the COVID shut down, he’d gotten a glimpse of it, listening to you take people - mostly men who seemed to think you weren’t as capable as you clearly were - to task and get things done. He was eternally grateful that, when the two of you fought, you didn’t take him down the way you did people who crossed you in the office. Though that stood in sharp contrast to how Joel heard you talk to the people who reported up to you, with you seemingly always happy to lend an ear or provide guidance or take the heat if they fucked something up that was going outside your department. 

Unfortunately, that meant you had weeks like this one, where plenty went wrong and you had no one to pass the buck to. And he knew as well as you did that you wouldn’t just let something fall apart, not if there was a damn thing you could do about it. Even if that meant working yourself into the ground. 

After a while you just deflated against him and he handed you the beer again. You took a long drink, emptying the bottle, and Joel took it from you to set on the side table. 

“Feelin’ better?” He asked, his nose brushing your hair. 

“Kind of,” you sighed, pressing yourself closer to him. 

“Somethin’ more I can do?” He asked, trying to make sure that he wasn’t nudging you in the direction he was hoping this would go. 

“Yeah,” you said, something shifting in your tone when you said it. No longer frustrated and fed up, instead needy and wanting. You sat up from him and looked at him through your eyelashes, practically pouting. “Turn my brain off for a bit?” 

Joel’s heart picked up, heat and tension already gathering low in him. 

“Aw, my baby need me to fuck her stupid?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face in his hand. His thumb traced along the arch of your cheekbone as his eyes locked on your blown pupils. “You need me to make that big brain of yours slow down for a while, that it?” 

“Yes please,” you breathed. He could feel your skin getting warmer below his touch. 

“Please what?” 

“Please sir,” you said, holding your hands up with your wrists together, like an offering. “Please fuck me stupid. Please sir.” 

He quirked his jaw before he smiled, dark and low.

“Good girl,” he growled. He got up and closed his large hands around your wrists before pulling you sharply to your feet, looking you up and down as he did. There was something that drove him wild, seeing you like this. Dressed in your armor of the business world, a place where lesser men had to go to you for permission to do a goddamn thing, and you came home to him, begging him to strip you down to something small and vulnerable and easily consumed. 

He wasn’t sure why you’d picked him of all people. When you’d met almost eight years earlier, his first thought was that you were way out of his fucking league. A friend of Tommy’s then girlfriend now wife, you were a few years younger than him but had clearly kept your life on the right fucking track the whole time instead of driving it into the ground for a while first. You’d gone to college, built a damn impressive career, had goals and dreams and plans for yourself. You were beautiful and smart and funny and kind and the first time he’d taken your clothes off he was still not entirely sure why you were letting him do it. 

He’d been even more surprised the first time you’d shared with him that you wanted him to take control in the way he was now. 

“I just have to make decisions all the time,” you’d said, folded into a corner of his couch with a glass of wine in your hands. “I just really want to have someone else take over for a while, you know? Not have to make any plans or take care of anybody else, just enjoy and be enjoyed.” 

That, Joel had thought, he could give you. 

It wasn’t something the two of you always indulged in but there were days like this one where you seemed to crave it. Maybe even a step beyond that - you needed it. You needed the safety of Joel’s guidance, the comfort of his control, the ease of his pleasure. He liked to give you those things. More than liked it, sometimes he lived for it. 

Today was one of those days. 

He led you to the bedroom and stood you at the foot of the bed, your wrists still firmly in his hands as his eyes searched yours. 

“You just want to be my little doll, is that it?” He asked, his thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists. Your pulse was heavy and hard. “Want me to take control so all you have to do is feel what I let you feel?” 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

“Yes what.” 

“Yes sir,” you were practically squirming. 

“What are your colors,” he said more than asked. 

“Green, yellow, red,” you answered quickly. 

“Where are you now?” 

“Green.” 

“Good girl,” he guided your hands so they hung at your sides. “Don’t move until I tell you.” 

He watched you resist the urge to nod and he slipped his hands below the lapels of your jacket, running his hands over your skin for a moment before shoving the sleeves down your arms and leaving the blazer in a pile on the floor. He watched you swallow, your throat working and he tried not to think about making you kneel and taking his cock into that pretty throat of yours. He knew just how good it would feel while you sucked him, how fucking good it would feel to come down your throat. 

Maybe later. Right now, he needed to take care of you. And that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

*** 

When Joel touched you like this, it was like something unspooled inside yourself. There had been a knot in your stomach for days at least - maybe longer - and nothing had worked to untangle it. Not crossing things off your to do list at the office, not the yoga class you’d skipped lunch to take, not the iced latte your assistant had ducked out to grab you that afternoon. But Joel’s hands on your skin as they slipped the slender straps of your satin top down your arms were better than anything else, especially when your mind wasn’t going a mile a minute thinking of ways to please him in return. You watched as he moved to undress you, his eyes heavy and hot and hungry as your top pooled around your hips. He reached around your body to unhook your bra, casting it aside before cupping your breasts in his large palms, groaning as he did. 

“You feel so good,” his thumbs brushed your nipples. “My soft, pretty fuckin’ girl.” 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. He’d told you to stay still and you had to obey. If you didn’t, you knew he’d drag out your first orgasm for what felt like an eternity, bringing you just to the edge of it but never letting you fall into your climax until you were a desperate, dripping, squirming mess. 

“What, baby?” He almost cooed at you, just a hint of a teasing edge to his tone. “What’s my baby need?” 

“More,” you whined. “I need more, please, I need…” 

He took his hands off you then and looked you in the eye and you almost reached for him before you caught yourself. 

“Who decides what you need right now,” he said. You moaned and he ignored you. “Who. Tell me, pretty girl.” 

“You,” you said. 

“That’s right,” he nodded. “And I’ll give you more when I decide you need more and I decide I’m done enjoyin’ the parts of you I’m enjoyin’ right now. So. You stand still like a good little doll and we’ll see when I’ll let you have more. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you said. 

He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“Yes what.” 

“Yes sir.” 

His crooked smile dimpled his cheek. 

“Good girl.” 

He returned to touching you, running his large and callused hands over your shoulders to your chest, holding and massaging your breasts and you could tell he was taking his time less for himself and more because he knew what it was doing to you. That it was making you achy and desperate and the thoughts that had been weighing on you all day at the office were slipping out of your mind, drifting far away into the ether. 

“Think I remember you sayin’ something about more?” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly as his hand slipped over your stomach, below the bunched fabric of your shirt, below the waistband of your pants until his fingertips were brushing your bare mound inside your panties. You whimpered. “How about I give you some more, hm?” 

His index finger reached out and brushed the top of your clit, sending a shiver through you, all the heat you had inside yourself pooling low in your stomach. 

Joel chuckled. 

“Think she likes it.” 

He pressed a little lower, a little firmer, working your sensitive nub in slow, languid circles. 

“She like this too?” 

You nodded frantically. 

“Thought I told you not to move,” Joel said, stern. 

“But…” 

“No buts,” he cut you off. “You wanted to give me control so you give me control. Otherwise, you won’t get what you want. Got it?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“You’re lucky,” he said as he went to open your pants. “Got me all worked up, too. Too worked up to draw this out the way you deserve, squirmin’ the way you are.” 

He got on his knees in front of you and gathered the fabric of your shirt, pants and underwear in his hands and pulled them all down in one go, the sudden exposure of your skin to the air making you gasp and goosebumps scatter over you in sharp little pin pricks. 

“Fuck, there you are,” he groaned, his hands coming to grip the thick swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat of you as he pressed a kiss to your stomach just below your belly button. You moaned, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his curls. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms, acutely aware of where he was touching you because of the absence of him everywhere else. 

He trailed his mouth down to your slit, his tongue dipping into you there, brushing against your clit, the heat of his mouth in sharp contrast to the cold air against your wetness. His hands slipped up your back, finding your waist before Joel stood, his still clothed body so close to your naked one. 

“Lie down for me,” he said, a little breathless. “Middle of the bed.” 

You rushed to obey and watched hungrily as Joel undressed himself, his black t-shirt coming up and over his head, his jeans opening to reveal his tight boxer briefs with his thick, hard cock straining the fabric. He took off everything before crawling up the bed over you and, for half a moment, you thought he really was going to give into you that quickly, give you exactly what you wanted that fast. But instead of settling between your thighs with his heavy length brushing against your slit and his mouth on yours, he fell to the side of you, the weight of him jostling the mattress. You turned your head to look at him, confused, and he laughed, dark and low. 

“You didn’t think you were gonna make me give in that fast, did you?” He asked. He slid one arm below your ribs, his hand coming up and around the back of you to hold your breast while his other hand teased a feather light path down from your throat, over your chest, your stomach to your slit. “No, not done with this yet.” 

“But…” 

“You just lie still and let me worship you,” he said, his palm cupping your mound, his middle finger settling between your lower lips as he put gentle pressure against your clit. The tip of his finger circled your dripping entrance but didn’t slip inside where you were aching and desperate for him. “Want to enjoy you for a while.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, his mouth finding just the right spot on your throat at the same moment he added pressure to your clit, grinding his hand against your most tender place and making your back arch below his touch. 

Joel kissed and licked and sucked along your neck, your collarbone, your breast, his cock brushing against your thigh as he manipulated your body and you could feel his precome on your skin when it did and you were desperate to touch him there, to feel just how hard you’d made him, make him start to unravel the way he was doing to you. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, a finger sliding inside of you, making you groan. 

“But I want…” 

He pulled back from you to look in your eyes and you could tell from the glassy look on his face that you probably already looked like a fucked out mess. 

“You tryin’ to make me feel good or you want it for yourself?” He asked, brows raised. You tried to find the words but couldn’t. He nodded. “S’what I thought, you sit still like I fuckin’ told you. You try to touch me and I won’t let you come, got it? This is about you, not me so you’re gonna lay there and take it, understand?” 

“Yes sir,” you whimpered. 

He went back to working you over, adjusting so that he could fully kiss down your body until his head was between your thighs, two fingers buried inside of you as he looked up your body to your face. 

“New rules,” he said, pressing his lips to your clit for a moment and sucking it into his mouth before continuing. “Want you to come and I want you to come hard. You’re allowed to touch my head to put me where you need but you do anything else with those hands and we’re startin’ over. Understood?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

He practically dove into your pussy, his thumb working your clit, his tongue licking deep into your channel. The fire in your belly burned brighter and it was like you could feel all the blood in your body pulling into the center of you. Your hands flew to his head, the thick of his hair and the heat of his scalp almost sharp against your fingers after having felt nothing but your own palms for what felt like forever. You rocked your hips against his face as he ate at you, a finger slipping into you alongside his tongue, working the inside of you deftly so that you were never empty but never lacking the friction of him moving in you. His fingertip curled into the soft, sensitive place inside of you that he found so easily now, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his thumb and nose worked your clit and you felt your pussy get so tight and hot you worried, for half a second, that it would hurt him before every worry flew out of your head entirely, your entire body flooded with waves of pleasure as you came on his tongue. 

Joel worked you through your orgasm, never letting up as you moaned and panted, your grip on his hair easing as your body started to go limp. Your pussy was so sensitive when your climax eased but Joel didn’t pay your little whimpers any mind. He pulled his mouth from you but added another finger, fucking into you with his hand and adjusting so his palm was grinding against your clit as he did. 

“There you go,” he panted, wiping your slick from his mouth before taking his cock in his hand and working himself with it. “That what you needed, pretty girl?” 

“Yes sir,” you whimpered. 

“Good,” he said, his eyes ranging over you, dark and hot. “Because now it’s my turn.” 

He pulled his fingers from you and spread your thighs a little wider, lining his cock up with your still weakly grasping hole for half a moment before thrusting deep into you in one devastating go. You gasped at the stretch of him filling you like that, the inside of you still soft and tender from your orgasm. Your fingers scrambled at the blanket below you, your back arched and taut and you tried to hold onto something - anything - in your head beside how he was splitting you open. 

“I say you could use your hands like that?” He asked, his fingers finding your wrists and clamping around them. He pressed deep inside you and folded over you, bringing your hands with him, pressing your wrists down into the mattress over your head. “Didn’t think so. You’re my little doll right now, ain’t you? Mine to do what I want with and I want you to take it.” 

“Joel,” you whimpered. 

“That ain’t my name right now, is it?” 

“Sir,” you corrected, resisting the urge to rock your hips up against him. “Please!” 

“Please what?” 

You couldn’t put words to what you wanted to ask for and Joel just smirked before releasing your wrists and sitting up, looking down over your body to where he disappeared inside of it. 

“What I thought,” he said, his hands pressing your thighs wide before his thumb trailed over where you were split open on him to your clit, teasing you in a slow circle that made you jerk involuntarily below him. He took it away, his hand on the soft flesh of your thigh again. “You leave those hands there and take it. You can take it, pretty girl. Know you can.” 

With that, he pulled back, slow and aching, before fucking back into you, hard and fast with a forceful grunt. You watched him fuck you, his cock slamming into you with enough force that it jerked your body up and down the bed. You were lost in it, the way you could see his muscles flex, the way his eyes ranged over you - watching the place he was spreading you open and the way your tits bounced for him and up to your face to meet your eyes and back again. It was almost hypnotic, like there was nothing else in the world that existed outside of him. He was controlling you totally, fucking into you with enough force that you couldn’t even breathe out of sync with his thrusts, your body just something he could manipulate and pleasure and use however he saw fit. 

You weren’t sure how long he fucked you like that before his hands ran over your thighs to your core, his thumbs brushing along your clit, pressing into you there and working you in hard little circles as your channel started to tighten around him again. 

“There we go,” he panted. “Got another one right there don’t you? You’re gonna give it to me, aren’t you pretty girl. Gonna give me everything, ain’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you whined, your fingernails digging into your palms as you fought to keep your hands still. 

“Good girl,” he pressed himself deep as he worked your clit and returned to his same punishing rhythm, the head of him finding the place inside you he’d claimed for himself. He left one thumb on your clit, his other hand stretching up and over your stomach, fingers splaying wide on you until it was in the middle of your chest where you knew he could feel how your heart was pounding behind your ribs. The feel of him everywhere was overwhelming, the tight spool of pleasure that had never fully relaxed after your first orgasm already wound unbearably tight again. 

“Want you to come for me,” he said, voice needy. “Want you to be a good girl and come. Give it all to me, baby, want you to just let go and give it all to me, let it all go, c’mon and come for me, make me fuckin’ feel it…” 

You cried out as you obeyed, your channel fluttering over his cock as he kept fucking you deep and hard. You could feel your orgasm in the very center of you, in every muscle and every nerve, your climax taking hold of you so firmly that you felt a gush of liquid rush out of you. 

“Fuck, there you go,” he said, not letting up. “Fuck baby, love when you squirt for me, such a good fuckin’ girl…” 

The wet snap of his hips into you was obscene and, as your orgasm eased, your body was already drawing tight again. Your heart raced and you could feel everything, everything, so sharp and harsh and overwhelming. Your head swam, your skin prickled. 

“Love feeling you come for me,” Joel was still fucking into you, hard and bruising like he was trying to climb inside your skin and claim a place for himself there. “Love when you get all tight and desperate, love making you all needy…” 

You let out a fucked out little whimper, tears pricking at your eyes, not able to see straight through the haze of your already building orgasm. Joel leaned over you, his cock buried deep but going still. 

“You with me, pretty girl?” He asked, his hands sliding up your arms to find your wrists, holding you gently in place. You couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, too overstimulated to think of anything beyond how he was filling you and surrounding you. “Gimme a color, baby.” 

“Yellow,” you managed. 

 He took your limp wrists in his large palms and guided your hands to his skin, resting them on his broad shoulders. 

“That help?” He asked. “You can nod.” 

You nodded quickly, your breathing evening out, body still tight and strung out. 

“Color?” 

“Green,” you said, the tears that were in your eyes slipping down your cheeks but not being replaced by new ones. 

“Good,” he shifted inside you, pulling back a little before thrusting in again. “Because I ain’t done with you yet. You keep those hands right where I put ‘em and just focus on coming one more time for me, need you to milk me dry, baby.” 

But his pace eased, less frantic and more desperate, working you slow and firm from within. He buried his face into your neck, his mouth finding that place that sent shocks of pleasure through your whole body. His hands ranged over you, fingers hungry and grasping at your skin, his hips working against your clit as his cock found its home deep within you. 

“Know you’re close,” he said against your skin, lips still close enough to brush against you as he spoke. He kissed along your neck, nose teasing along your throat. “You got one more in you, baby, I know you do.” 

“Sir,” you whimpered, pleading, not sure if you wanted to come or wanted to just dissolve. 

“You can come,” he fucked you slow and deep. His public bone pressed against your clit and your back arched. “Want you to come, want to feel you come. Make me feel you, baby. Be a good girl and make me feel you.” 

You dared to let yourself move, just enough that you could rock your hips up against him, working yourself with his body as you felt him grow impossibly thicker and harder inside you. Or, maybe, you were just tightening further around him, body clinging to him in one last desperate push for closeness as your climax hit again. You cried out with it and you couldn’t just leave your hands on Joel’s shoulders, instead latching onto his hair and sliding down his back, pulling him flush against your body so the only thing left in the world was him and his skin and the thick of his cock as he started to pulse inside of you. 

Your orgasm almost hurt it was so intense. You could feel every inch of Joel’s cock in you, the heat and softness of his skin against you, every muscle in your body going rigid and tense for a moment before relaxing. Your vision went spotty and you got light headed and you lost track of time. 

The next thing you knew, you were in Joel’s arms, cradled against his chest, his fingers trailing a gentle path along the edge of your hairline and jaw, thumb brushing the plush of your lips. 

“There you are,” he said softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his large hand coming to rest against your cheek as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were soft and warm and there was a gentle smile on his face. “How are you feelin’ love?” 

You took stock of your body for a moment, everything feeling light and airy. 

“I’m good,” you smiled a little. 

“Yeah?” He said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Take a deep breath for me, OK?” 

You nodded a little and did as you were told, only realizing then just how little your lungs had been inflating before. 

“How’s that feelin’?” He asked. “Good?” 

You just nodded, still smiling. 

“How about this for the night,” he said, going back to tracing an easy trail over your skin with his fingertips. “In a few minutes, I get up and get you water and a cocktail while you put on that pretty little swimsuit of yours. You float in the water while I look at ya and finish those ribs in the smoker…” 

“You’re making me ribs?” You almost pouted, your brows going up. 

Joel chuckled. 

“Yeah, that OK?” 

“That’s my favorite,” you said, feeling like you might be about to cry. 

“I know it is, baby,” he said, kissing your temple again. “S’why I made ‘em. Got that potato salad you like, green beans, cornbread too. Even got that chocolate cake you like so much…” 

“The Oreo one?” You sniffed, tearing up. 

“The Oreo one,” he brushed your hair back. “You still with me there baby?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, crying a little. You weren’t entirely sure why, just every emotion you’d had over the past week seeming to bubble up at once. “I think so…” 

“You’re OK,” Joel said, pulling you closer, his lips gentle on your skin. “I’ve got you.” 

You just nodded against him and focused on how his skin felt on yours, his warmth and strength grounding while your mind was still swimming. 

“What about after dinner?” You sniffed. 

“We can watch one of those movies you like so much,” he said. “I know the ones that’ve been on your list, you don’t gotta pick unless you want to. Sound good?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But… can we just stay here for a little while first? Please?” 

“Course baby,” he said. “Whatever you need. I’ll take care of you.” 

You nuzzled into his skin and breathed deep and you didn’t really know why you’d been so stressed when you got home to begin with. You just knew that you had Joel and that, as long as he was there, everything else would be OK.

[mykoreanlove]

fighting with felix be like

“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.”

His words stung, adding onto the heavy pain you were already feeling. “Am I though? Your ex was with us right there tonight. Am I ridiculous for feeling jealous?” He halted abruptly and turned around. “That is what this is about? You were jealous because of my ex?”

Your eyes were glued to the floor. This was your first relationship, and you had no idea how to navigate tough situations like these. Felix’ gaze softened as he understood why you made his night a living hell.

He embraced you in his arms and kissed your forehead, whispering to you softly. “Sweetums, I had no idea you felt that way. I’m sorry. Please believe me that you have nothing to worry about. My ex is my ex for a reason. Okay?”

His loving eyes pierced through yours and you felt butterflies all over again. You felt stupid for acting like a bitch tonight. Shame flooded your system – you wanted to be a cool girl, not a pathetic one.

You thought about ways to make it up to him. As you fumbled with the zipper of his jeans you looked him deep in the eyes and mumbled your apology. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes widened in surprise – up to now you hadn’t done something like this before.

Felix was more experienced than you were, he definitely wasn’t timid in bed. But he respected you and gave you all the time you needed. You loved the kissing, licking, groping, or fingering but everything else had been new territory for you.

“Sweetums, are you sure?”

You nodded, biting your lip in anticipation. He sat down on the couch after you slid off his dark jeans. His tight boxers were fighting to contain his dick, the bulge was too prominent to ignore.

You had no idea how to do this. Should you have watched some porn before? Shit.

Your fingers grazed his thighs, leaving him shivering in anticipation. Felix’ noticed you tensing up, so he took your face into his hand and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. “Don’t overthink it, baby. Just let it happen naturally.”

You freed his cock out of his boxers. “Damn”, you admired him. “Lixie, your dick is gorgeous.” He laughed out loud. “Thank you sweetums. My dick thinks you’re gorgeous, too.” Now you laughed. You got on your knees and braided your hair into a ponytail, ready for action.

 “Well, let me introduce myself properly.”

You had been bopping your head on his dick for almost an hour, you couldn’t get enough. Felix was thick – filling you completely. You almost choked a couple times, but you didn’t care, taking him deep was so fulfilling. You felt dirty, like you were doing something wrong. Your tongue glided over his cock, veins popping out left and right. He was close so many times, twitching in your mouth relentlessly. His deep moans filled the whole room and you never felt prouder. “Sweetums, fuck. I’m about to faint, this feels so fucking good.”

You quickened your pace and sucked harder, covering him and yourself in spit. Felix groaned again and sat up straight, taking your ponytail in his hands, pulling tightly. “Look at me, baby. Look at me while you take me like a little slut.”

Oh, you felt your pussy twitch. Fuck, that was hot. Let me be your little slut, Lixie. I’d do anything for you. You held his gaze while you were sucking and massaging his balls.

His pupils dilated; he was loving this so much. You didn’t think it would be possible for him to get even harder, but it was. It was as if you were licking a rock. “Can I.. can I come in your pretty mouth?”

You squeezed his thighs. God yes, let me taste you. Felix understood and rocked his hips forward, his dick shooting right into the back of your throat, making your eyes water. “God, y/n, I…fuck!”

Felix cum tasted like nothing you had ever tasted before. A mixture of sweet and salty, just like he was. You sucked him dry, licking off every droplet of his salvation.

You had no idea if he was satisfied but you were proud of yourself. “Fuck, sweetums – what was that?” Felix smiled from ear to ear and pulled you to him on the couch. You were laying on his chest, very aware of his heavy breathing. “Was that.. okay?”

He looked at you amused. “Are you kidding? That was the best blowjob I ever got. I wasn’t kidding about fainting. That was intense!” He kissed you tenderly. “Thank you, y/n. I loved it.” You smiled back proudly. Felix hugged you even tighter now. “Did you really do that because of our fight?” You looked up at him, smiling shyly. “Yeah. I felt sorry for how I behaved and I.. I wanted to make it up to you.”

You played with his shirt, waiting for his reply. “Well, if that is the case then we should fight more often. Don’t you think?”

[leclercss]

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc), Part 2

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating, violence and some swearing

authors note: part deux, enjoy. sorry this took so much longer than anticipated to write. also, excuse the darker tone to this chapter, it'll get lighter from here xx

word count: 5.2k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar, @tremendousandsonorouswords, @cmleitora, @victoriaholland, @amalialeclerc, @queensofshinigamis, @tempo-rary-fix, @starmanv, @happylittlereader, @trouble-sistar, @lightdragonrayne, @persephonemv1, @dreamingofautopia

If you couldn't read Charles' expression before, you most certainly couldn't now. For the first time this evening, it was Charles who was stumbling over his words.

"Wha... Wait... what?" was all he could muster up.

There weren't many times when you had been with Charles where he struggled to find his words. Even if he was angry, like the last time you saw him all those years ago, he still managed to say something. But tonight, he couldn't. He was speechless.

To relieve him from his pain, you repeated what you had said a few moments before. You too were struggling to string a few words together.

"Charles, I never went to New York".

Even by repeating yourself, Charles still couldn't find the words and it looks like the wheels inside of his head are trying to turn and make some sort of sense but everything is just breaking down and failing to work cohesively. And so, rather than having to respond, he looks out of the window of the taxi, taking in the Parisian sunset. His hand is no longer on your thigh but is now clawing at his facial hair.

The rest of the taxi ride is quiet, aside from the taxi driver's radio playing lowly in the background. But at one point you think you hear Charles whisper to himself, "Je ne comprends pas".

I don't understand.

The sound of Charles' keys rattling breaks the silence between you and Charles as he leads you upstairs to his apartment. He still hasn't said anything since the taxi, aside from thanking the driver. You haven't made much of an effort yourself to fill the silence because in all honesty, you're not really sure what to say or what Charles' reaction would be to whatever you did have to say. He was clearly stunned at your revelation that you in fact never went to New York and you were stunned yourself - by his question, his reaction, hell, this entire date. None of this made sense.

In the space of an hour, you went from being clueless about your blind date, to finding out that out of the +3 billion men in the world you just happened to be set up with your ex and to now, with Charles asking you to come to his apartment. Your mind was working overtime to catch up. Those two Aperol Spritz' were clearly not enough to numb whatever your brain was trying to process right now. You clearly needed something stronger.

You tried not to laugh but you couldn't help think about the fact that as much as Pierre poked fun at you for your messy love life, even this situation that you now found yourself in would even be too much for him to process.

The two of you quietly make your way into Charles’ apartment before staggering off. He muttered something about getting you a drink and so you take the opportunity to take in his apartment. Your heels are the only thing that is making a sound as you slowly walk around his living room. It’s a lot more sophisticated than his apartment in London that he shared with Joris and Riccardo. Gone are the Ferrari prints and in their place are pictures of modern art, strategically framed across the walls. It feels too classy to be a bachelor pad, if that was what Charles used it as. Your mind briefly lingers back to Pierre's comment about Charles needing to fuck a lot of girls to get over you.

With Charles still in the kitchen, you slowly make your way over to the large bay window and admire the Parisian streets outside as the sun slowly begins to set across the city. You let out a little sigh. It feels like no matter where you call home these days, chaos seems to follow you. Well, everywhere apart from Singapore, life felt so easy there. No expectation, the only pressure being your job. Was it too late to go back?

Your attention is finally pulled back to reality as Charles hands you a glass of white wine.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the glass from his hand. You can’t miss that his own glass of wine is practically shorty. Charles’ notices this and dryly chuckles.

“I drank it on the way, let me get some more”.

He’s flustered, his cheeks turning slightly pink out of embarrassment. He doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he turns away and heads back to the kitchen. You can’t help but find it a little funny how you’re now the composed one, especially in comparison to Charles’ entrance during your date.

As Charles re-enters the living room, you take a seat on the edge of his sofa, you’re not too comfortable yet for you to treat it like a welcomed or returning guest. Charles follows suit, taking a seat on the arm chair across from you.

It’s still quiet between you both, neither of you know how to start this conversation. Whatever game plan Charles had previously has now gone straight out of the window while you never had an opportunity to even create a game plan, you were just thrown into the deep end without any arm bands.

You watch as Charles’ slowly runs his index finger along the rim of his wine glass while he stares at his own movements. Deciding to break the silence, because any conversation is better than this, you begin with some small talk to ease yourself into the conversation.

“Your apartment looks great,” you say politely as you look around the room once more.

“Thanks,” Charles mutters, his eyes still fixated on his wine glass.

“Did you decorate it yourself?”

Charles shakes his head.

You let out a little laugh. “Interior design was never your strong suit,” you joke, hoping to lighten the mood but it doesn’t anything but.

“A friend did it,” his words almost come out like a grunt.

Silence falls onto the room once more.

Something chaotic begins to brew inside of you. You know you’ve got nothing to lose, and out a stupid sense of curiosity, you carelessly throw out your next question, “Was it a girl that did it for you?”

Charles instantly tenses up at your question and you know you're playing with fire. You notice his jaw twitch in irritation. His shoulders now hunching forward and his hand is how clenched around his wine glass. And by the tension in his fingers, you’re amazed that it hasn’t cracked from the pressure.

He’s debating whether to say something or not. And he does, but not before taking a large gulp of his wine.

“Why don’t we just skip the small talk and get straight to fucking shall we?”

And as he says it, he’s finally looking into your eyes. The pendulum swings once more and it's your turn to be nervous again.

“Excuse me?”

He lets out a little chuckle but from the expression in his eyes he’s not joking around.

“Listen, [Y/N], I didn’t invite you back to my apartment so we could exchange interior design tips. So, let’s just skip to what we’re good at which is sex,” he continues with a condescending tone. “We can either do it on my sofa if you like, or by the big window so you can take in the Parisian skyline as I fuck you from behind. But my bed also works, your choice”.

You can’t help but scoff, “And that works for all the other girls you’ve taken here, right?”

You want to slap the smirk that Charles’ is giving you right off his face.

“No,” he responds sarcastically. “I let them finish their glass of wine, or two, maybe even play them a song on my piano before I ask them to take their clothes off”.

Oh, so I'm not even worthy of even getting through my wine? you think to yourself.

It's your turn to laugh but you know it’s hiding what you really feel. You’re confused but most importantly, you’re disappointed in the way that Charles is speaking to you. He had never spoken to you like this before.

“And what makes you think I’d want to fuck you anyway?” you retort, hoping that you sound assure in what you're saying, but you're not, your voice trembles. And Charles doesn't miss it.

And my God, he looks so arrogant as he looks you up and down. He’s so obvious with his gaze as his eyes become fixated on your boobs before making their way down to your thighs, which are now more exposed than before thanks to your dress riding up from sitting on the sofa.

“You’re wearing that dress aren’t you?” the smugness practically oozes from his tongue.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Well, if I’d of known that you were going to be my date then I definitely wouldn’t have wasted this dress on you”.

Charles throws his head back as his smile grows even bigger.

“It's such a shame that you’ve lost your sense of humour since I last saw you, amour”.

You scoff once more. His use of amour is no longer a term of endearment but a way to mock you. But you can't let him know that he's winning, so you somewhat fight back, "At least I’ve managed to grow up in the last three years. Unlike some”.

“And yet you’re still here”.

Your eyes meet his and you gulp. His piercing green eyes are glistening as he enjoys seeing you squirm. He’s been waiting for so long to see you again and he’s not going to let you forget how you made him feel. And he doesn’t care that he’s coming across as a dick when he’s doing so. You broke his heart, and he’s willing to be petty about it.

Despite your disgust in how he’s speaking to you since you arrived to his apartment, you know he’s right. Why are you still here? What sort of resolution are you going to get from this? And you remember how naive you were earlier to think that Charles had moved on when he was being nice to you. Oh how wrong you were.

“Well, now that we’ve established that you’re staying-“

“Who said I was staying?” you growl.

“Well, as I said before, you’re wearing that dress and I think it’s pretty obvious that you planned on getting fucked tonight, so I’m happy to cut to get to it,” Charles continues nonchalantly, “Pierre, as well intentioned as he is, did drop the bomb that you’ve been having a bit of a dry patch when it comes to your love life so I can’t blame you for getting your hopes up”.

You’re growing more irritated by his sarcasm and attitude by the second. Your jaw can’t help but twitch as he drops the truth bomb on your pathetic love life. And so you retaliate, unknowingly falling right into his trap.

“And Pierre was ever-so-kind to let me know that you’ve been so miserable and bitter that you’ve had to fuck anyone with a pulse to get over me”.

You see a flash of anger fall onto Charles’ face but it’s gone as quick as it came. You wouldn't be sure it even happened if he didn't respond the way he does next.

“Better than whatever pathetic shit it is you’ve been doing,” Charles responds. "Random hook ups, pathetic tinder conversations. Are you scared of commitment or something?"

You say nothing but you're breathing heavily. You're the one who is now gripping onto their wine glass for dear life, holding onto whatever composure you have left.

"There was one thing that Pierre didn't tell me though. How did you and Lewis end things, amour?"

What a little...

Who the fuck does he think he is?

This conversation has taken a dark turn and it’s enough for you to want to get out of here. Something you should have done before. You slam your wine glass onto the coffee table, before standing up to make your way towards the front door.

You hear Charles get out of his seat, closely following behind before he grabs onto your arm.

“What’s wrong, amour?” his voice is sickeningly sweet as he taunts you once more, pulling you back towards him.

“I’m not going to sit here and let you talk to me like this,” you spit. But your voice cracks as you can feel ears form in your eyes. This whole evening has been humiliating and now Charles is hanging your desperate love life in front of you, like it's a toy that can be poked and prodded at for entertainment.

And if you thought that by leaving that Charles would retreat, you were completely wrong.

“Sorry, baby, thought you were into men who treated you like shit”.

Slap!

You're not sure who's more surprised by the slap you've just given Charles, you've both been stunned into silence. The hand that he had on your arm immediately removes itself from you, now finding itself pressed against Charles' cheek. He winces at his own touch, the flesh that was met with your slap is beginning to sizzle.

One of your tears spills over as you make eye contact with Charles, your expressions matching one another. Horror. It takes you a few moments to realise what you've done. Unwilling and unable to accept the consequences of your actions, you decide to bolt for the exit. But as soon as you open the front door, it's been slammed shut. Panicking, you turn around to see that Charles has followed you, his hand is above your head holding the door closed.

You're not sure why you feel scared, but you press your back against the door. You're pressing into it so hard that you hope that it creates some sort of portal to take you somewhere far, far away from here. Anywhere but here.

But your dreams are cut short because Charles is standing in front of you, still holding the door closed while the other hand caresses his cheek, marked with your handprint.

"No, you don't get to just run away from me again," he barks as he hovers over you.

"What?" you ask in confusion.

"You've done it to me once before and I won't let you do it again," he replies. His breathing his heavy, chest rising and falling dramatically as he looks into your eyes. "You've left me once before without an explanation. You're not doing that to me this time".

His tone is much more gentle this time. The last few moments have made him feel vulnerable. His find flashes back to the last time he saw you and how he watched you walk out of his front door, never to be seen again until three years later. Despite his bitterness towards your break up, he wasn't going to make that mistake again. No, it was time for some answers. Ones he had been waiting for for three long years.

He removes the hand that's above your head on the door and places it back down by his side. "Can you just stay, please? I think you owe me that much".

You nod.

"Okay," your voice barely a whisper. "I'll stay but at least let me get a cold towel for your face".

It's Charles turn to nod.

He makes his way back to the sofa while he waits for you to return with a cold, damp cloth. When you return, his eyes never leave you as he watches you sit down beside him. He watches you as you gently places the damp cloth against his cheek. He hisses out your touch.

"I'm sorry," you whisper as you begin to dab his face gently, this time your touch hurts less.

Apart from your very brief apology, the two of you say nothing for a while. Charles' eyes are still on you as you take care of him. He gulps as you take your other hand and brush away a strand of hair that's fallen onto his cheek. His mind goes rushing back to all of the times that you touched him before. But now it's in such different circumstances and you both feel like strangers to one another now. He wants to touch you again, to see if it still feels the same. If your skin is still as soft as before. It always used to be so warm and silky, it felt like satin beneath his touch. But he's too scared to try, after all you did just slap him a not so long ago, because of shitty words that he said to you.

"Charles," you say before pausing. You look at him briefly as he nods, waiting for you to carry on. He's looking at you with such puppy dog eyes that you can't help but feel guilty as you see that he still has some redness on his cheek. But you carry on. "I'm sorry for hitting you. I... I shouldn't have done that".

Charles chuckles a little, "It's okay, amour".

"No, no, it's not okay. I shouldn't hit anyone," you protest, this time holding the cloth against his cheek.

Charles smiles at you, "Honestly, it's okay. I deserve it, I was being nasty."

You let out a little sigh.

"I really am sorry," you say as you look into his eyes.

"I know, amour".

It's all the two of you say for a few more minutes before you finally remove the cloth from Charles' cheek. The redness has calmed down, but he still feels a sting from your touch.

As you place the cloth on the table, you reach for your glass of wine, realising that it's been untouched. You take a sip before handing the glass to Charles. He smiles before taking it from your hand and taking a sip himself.

As your wait to find something to say, you begin to pull at the hem of your short dress. How do you carry on the conversation from here? The last time you tried to speak it went from being petty to nasty and to, in your case, being violent. But Charles' demeanor is different this time, he seems a lot calmer and he doesn't want to make your life a living hell any more. He watches you fiddling with the hem of your dress and pulling at a loose string. He places his hand on top of yours to stop you from pulling at the material any more.

"Hey, don't do that. Your dress is beautiful, I wouldn't want you to ruin it," his tone is so gentle. So much so that you tears begin to form in your eyes again. You can't even look at Charles as your eyes remain fixated on your lap. You hadn't realised your tears had spilled over until landed on the bottom of your dress, leaving the smallest of damp spots.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry," Charles whispers as he wipes your tear with his thumb. But by him telling you not to cry doesn't mean that you stop. If anything, feeling his hand on your face only makes it worse. "Please don't cry, [Y/N]".

Charles cups your face in his hands as he lifts it up so you're looking at him. "Charles," you begin but your breath catches in your throat. The evening is beginning to overwhelm you and you can't seem to be digesting anything that's happening in a reasonable way.

"Tell me, amour," Charles says as he wipes your tears once more.

Amour.

Fuck, even the way he's saying it now is so confusing. It's so gentle and so kind and you don't deserve any of this.

"Did you mean it earlier? When you said you only invited me back to have sex?"

Charles sighs as he shakes his head.

"No! No, I was being an asshole, okay," he tells you. "I didn't mean it."

You nod but you're not sure if you believe him. You wouldn't blame him if he fucked you and then left you because in Charles' eyes, that's what you did to him three years ago.

"Hey, hey, look at me," his voice is more commanding this time that you can't help but look at him. He hesitates for a moment, before he leans in to kiss your forehead. "I didn't mean it, amour. I was just angry, that's all".

You nod but you still feel overwhelmed with his touch and so you lean back on the sofa to give yourself a little bit of a break. Charles follows suit.

Silence falls on the room once more but this time, the two of you taking turns drinking the wine from your glass, hoping that the two of you find the courage to address the elephant in the room.

This time, it's Charles who breaks the silence.

"You... you said in the taxi that you never went to New York," he begins. The volume in his voice is much lower this time.

You nod slowly.

"What happened? Why did you change your mind?"

He nervously awaits your answer and he doesn't miss the little sigh that you let out.

"Charles, I... I was never going to New York. It was never the plan. Lewis kept asking but I always said no," you tell him.

Charles' scrunches his forehead at your confession.

"But you told me-"

"No, that day when I came to see you. I planned on telling you that everything was over between Lewis and I but I don't know what happened. I just couldn't get the words out, after everything that happened it should have been easy but it wasn't. Because I'd never been able to say out loud that my marriage was over. And when I told you that Lewis asked me to join him in New York, I didn't tell you because that's what was happening. I told you because I was scared and confused. You talked about moving in together and I panicked. For the first time in seven years he wasn't going to be in my life and I just didn't have time to process it," you tell him, "And so when you asked me if I was going, I just froze. I... I don't why I did. But by the time I got over my panic you thought that I had basically confirmed that I was going with Lewis but I never was. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did, hell, I would have had the same thoughts. But he was never an option any more, Charles, it was always you".

Charles stays silent as he lets all of your words sync in. He had been so wrong this whole time and he spent so many days and months hating you. Was he so wiling to believe that you were leaving him to stay with Lewis because he couldn't believe that it would finally be true? He'd always heard that the spouse never leaves their martial partner when it comes to having an affair. But you and Charles never had an affair. You had a relationship, and one that Lewis knew all about. So why had he gotten it all so wrong?

"When you told me to leave, I... I took the cowards way out. I don't blame you for not believing me. We were both tired and I gave up. I'm sorry that I gave up, Charles," you say. It's your turn to wipe the tear from Charles' cheeks.

"No, I pushed you away," he says quietly.

You shake your head. "No, you didn't. You did nothing wrong," you tell him.

The two of you take a few minutes to process your confession to Charles. The tears have now dried up for the both of you but the weight of the conversation rests heavy on your hearts.

"If you didn't go to New York, where did you go?" Charles asks.

You let out a little sigh. "I went for a job opportunity in Singapore. And I took it, so I moved about three months after things ended between us".

Charle lets out a light-hearted chuckle. "Singapore, that must have been nice," he says, "How did you manage in the heat?"

"I didn't," you laugh, "I basically lived a nocturnal lifestyle. But it was nice, I enjoyed my time there. I think I grew up a lot while I was there".

You pause for a moment, your smile falls a little as you carry on. "I do think about what would have happened if I'd stayed in London though..." Your sentence trails off as you begin to think about the what ifs.

"Well you know, London. Always busy and always expensive," Charles jokes. You smile at him softly.

"Kind of like Paris, right?" you say and he nods in response.

He takes a moment before asking his next question, "Do you regret going?"

Uncertainty takes over momentarily before you reply, "I don't know. I wish I kind of did things differently".

"Me too," Charles mutters.

Your eyes meet each others and this time it feels different. It feels like you're both longing for one another. You're not sure who initiated the first move as you both lean in for a gentle kiss which soon escalates as Charles pulls you onto his lap while you reach out to cup his face. The kiss deepens quickly as the two of your run your hands over any body part you can find on the other.

Charles' hands going from your hair on the back of your head to your waist. At some point, they end up on your ass which is now exposed due to the movements you've been making on his lap. Your hands too find themselves in his hair before making their way over his shoulders and down his clothed chest but you don't miss the tight muscles that sits below the thin material.

You hum as Charles' lips make their way to below your ear before making their way down your neck and finally to your chest.

"I wasn't joking when I mentioned this dress earlier," he says as he stares up at you, his eyes are full of hunger, "it was meant to taken off".

You can't help but squeal as he dramatically pulls your straps down to reveal your chest and it doesn't take long for him to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples. You moan as he begins to suck on the sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you let out as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

Tonight has been such a mind fuck that you feel dizzy at his touch. How the hell have you ended up in this situation where you've gone from slapping Charles for being an asshole to having him sucking on your tits. Maybe he was right and that you did like men that treated you like shit.

But that was baggage that you could unpack another day as you're suddenly brought back to your senses when you feel a flash of cold air on your vagina. You look down and see that Charles has pulled your panties to the side.

He looks up at you menacingly as his right hand makes its way down your body while the other holds your him in place. You can't help but yelp as his fingertips brush against your clit.

"Charles," you sigh in relief as he presses more pressure onto your sensitive bud.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't imagined this image over the last three years," Charles teases as he slides his fingers between your folds. "Mmmm," is all you can say.

"I still have those photos you know and some of the videos that we took," he continues as he left hand makes it's way back up to your breast, missing the feeling of full flesh beneath his fingers.

"Charles," you whisper once more as you grip onto his hair.

"All you have to do is tell me how you want," he says and you're falling into his touch when he suddenly pushes two of his fingers inside of you.

"Shit!"

Charles takes your profanity as a sign to continue but this only sends you into overdrive. No, it's that dizzy feeling again and you suddenly feel light-headed. His fingers are moving in and out of you but all you want to do is push yourself off his chest and you do.

"Stop," you cry as you lift yourself of Charles' body.

Charles is stunned at your sudden change and becomes flustered, trying to understand why you're no longer wanting him to touch you.

"Amour, what's wrong?"

You're panting as you recover from the sensation of Charles while you're also trying to gather your thoughts at the same time.

"I don't think this is a good idea," you eventually say. You don't miss the look of disappointment on Charles' face. "It's not that I don't want to, I just think that... that we've gone through so much tonight. We haven't really processed anything and I don't want us to regret this".

Charles nods. He'd do anything to have you right now but deep down he knows you're right. The events of tonight have been chaotic, petty and at times toxic. This was the first time the two of you had addressed what happened and even then it was only a short conversation. He's only just gotten you back into his life and despite what his mouth was running with earlier, Charles didn't want to lose you again.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he says softly.

"Please don't be sorry. We both wanted it but it's not the best thing right now," you say. You want to break the tension in the air by cracking a joke, "If you want, we can both tell Pierre that we fucked to mess with his head".

Your joke works as Charles releases some tension by laughing before letting out a "Fucking Pierre".

At some point, you end up resting your head against Charles' chest as the two of you enjoy the silence for the first time this evening and for the final time, Charles interrupts a quiet moment between you two.

"Can you stay tonight? I... Nothing has to happen, I'd just like you to stay," he says quietly. You look up at him and nod.

The two of you eventually make your way to the bedroom and slowly undress each other as you get ready for bed, with Charles lending you one of his football jerseys.

And while he sleeps ever so soundly, his chest gently rising and falling as he lets out slow breaths, you find yourself not being able to sleep at all.

As the sun begins to rise on an early summer's morning in Paris, you find a pen and paper in Charles' kitchen before leaving him a note on his pillow:

' I promise I'm not running away this time, I just think that we both deserve the chance for a clear head in the morning.

I'm so grateful that I got the chance to see you again.

Amour xxx '

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

Like Lava.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

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A/N: The idea for this fic was prompted by this post by the wonderful @twistedmelodies. This thought plagued my mind so much that I had to do something about it.

I suggest you listen to the song "My Name Is Human" by Highly Suspect while reading this.

Word count: 4.2K

Pairing: Jake x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, oral (m! and f! receiving), protected penetrative sex, use of restraints.

Summary: A terrible day at work takes an unexpected turn when you decide to go to a bar to get a drink.

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The bar was still packed when you entered. Much to your dismay.

It was late and you were already overstimulated by the longest shift ever at work.

You thought that a hot shower could make you feel better but you clearly needed something stronger.

You needed a drink to help your brain finally relax and that place was the closest one to your house that could provide you one.

You didn't look anyone in the face there, you just made a beeline towards the bar and quickly got the attention of the bartender.

You asked for a whiskey neat and sat on a stool while you waited.

He placed the glass in front of you with a smile and turned to serve another customer.

You had just grabbed the drink and were ready to have a much needed gulp of liquor when a hand knocked against yours, making the drink spill over the bar top and the glass fall from your grasp.

The glass crashed onto the floor with a loud noise, sending shards everywhere and you shivered at the sound, feeling your anger flare.

You bit the inside of your cheek to try and make your anger subside but it didn't work.

You quickly turned around with your cheeks reddened and your nostrils flaring, ready to tell off whoever the culprit was, but those venomous words died on your tongue when you were met with sweet dark eyes and a heartstopping apologetic smile.

He started apologizing profusely, asking if you were hurt, if he had ruined your clothes and already flagging the bartender to buy you another drink.

“I'm so sorry, I'm very clumsy sometimes. I’m Jake, by the way” The stranger said, extending his hand for you to shake.

You introduced yourself too and took his hand in yours.

His skin was so soft and warm that you felt your icy demeanor starting to crack.

At that moment you finally took him in.

He was beautiful.

His hair was long and looked so soft you wanted to sink your hands in it. It was glowing beautifully in the low light of the room.

He was wearing a simple black shirt that was almost totally unbuttoned, and black jeans. Nothing too fancy, but what caught your eye the most were the antique-looking silver pendants he had around his neck and the many rings and bracelets on his fingers and wrists.

You were regretting coming to that place with every cell of your being before meeting his eyes.

But something told you to stay and let this handsome stranger buy you a drink.

~

An hour and two drinks later you were still chatting and laughing with him at the bar.

He was incredibly funny and smart and you chatted about anything and everything; time had flown in his company.

And on top of that, you would have listened to him talk to no end because his voice was so intense and warm that it made you melt every second more.

You told him everything that happened at work that day and he listened to you with interest.

Then he told you that he had a bad day too. He was a musician, a guitarist, and that day it seemed like he just couldn't focus on notes and riffs. He kept messing up to the point that his own bandmates had kicked him out of the studio and went on practicing without him. He was so irritated with himself that he had almost risked destroying his guitar against the wall.

A comfortable silence fell around you after a while, and you were slowly losing yourself into his eyes, when the bartender signaled to the customers still lingering around that the bar was closing soon.

You were a bit disconsolate that your time with him had eventually come to an end, but when your eyes met his again, you saw a glint there.

He cleared his throat and came closer to you.

“I'm going to be very direct, okay?” He said while trailing a knuckle down your cheek, with a featherlight touch that made your skin cover with goosebumps.

“If I'm overstepping just tell me and we can forget I even said a word. We can go back to being strangers and you won't see me again I promise. Or we can be friends and meet for another drink whenever you want” he whispered.

You felt his hot breath on your neck when he came even closer and a shiver ran down your spine.

“It's been a long day for us both, why don't we help each other unwind?” He whispered into your ear and your heart skipped a beat.

When his dark eyes met yours again, your mind went completely blank.

It was your heart talking when, a few seconds later, you answered him with a confidence you didn't know you possessed.

“Please, yes. Let's go to my place. It's ten minutes away from here” you said struggling to recognise your own voice.

The idea of having to wait ten minutes to feel him didn't really appeal to you but, thank God, he had a better solution.

“If you want, we could go to my place. It's just around the corner” he whispered onto your lips. His voice was like honey, so rich and voluptuous, that you felt drawn to him like a butterfly to the sweetest flower.

The need to feel him was increasing and your fingers were trembling when you grabbed your glass to finish your drink.

He closed his tab paying for your drinks too and then grasped your hand in his, leading you out of the bar.

Once outside, all you wanted to do was start running towards his house but he didn't immediately lead you there.

He stopped abruptly and turned around to face you.

His eyes bore holes into yours as he gently grasped your face between his warm hands.

You felt a tingle where his fingers were touching you and your cheeks heated immediately.

He leaned his forehead against yours and you felt his hot breath on your lips, before his voice graced your ears again.

“Do you really want this, love? I can walk you home if you don't.” He whispered gently, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Please, I do” you answered him in a sliver of voice.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

You nodded and his lips were on yours. A shiver ran down your spine at the softness of his mouth.

He sucked gently at your bottom lip and you moaned at the feeling. His lips tasted of the whisky he had been drinking all night.

When his tongue licked into your mouth, you felt dizzy, and you clawed onto his jacket, feeling the soft corduroy under your fingertips.

You needed him.

He broke the kiss and caressed your cheeks with a sweet smile on his plump lips.

There was a little wind that kept blowing strands of his hair in his eyes, but that couldn't hide the fire burning there.

“Let's go” He said, grasping your hand and leading you towards his house.

~

The moment you two entered, you ended up pressed against the cool wood of his door.

His lips were on your neck, sucking and biting the delicate skin while his hands gripped your hips.

Your hands sank in his hair and you moaned at the softness of it.

As he lost himself in your neck, biting, licking and sucking your skin, you took a look around his flat, despite struggling to keep your eyes open because of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

He lived in a cozy open space and, if he hadn't told you before that he was a guitarist, you would have guessed it the moment you entered.

There were many guitars hanging on the walls, one more beautiful than the other.

The place was in semi-darkness, the only light was coming from outside, casting a dim glow on everything.

Near a window there was a desk with papers scattered on top and under it. Many were crumpled and others just scribbled, effectively portraying the chaos plaguing his mind that had gotten him kicked out of band practice.

You tugged gently on his hair and guided his mouth to yours, moaning at the feeling of his warm tongue caressing yours.

He broke the kiss and turned you around by your hips so he was behind you and could guide you towards his bedroom.

There were a few more guitars there, two acoustics on their respective stands and an electric that was thrown on the floor without care.

It was still plugged into an amp and you suspected that was the one that had been almost destroyed against the wall because of Jake's temper.

The room was bathed in a soft golden glow provided by the vintage lava lamp on the nightstand. The orange bubbles rising and falling inside reverberated on the walls creating a cozy atmosphere.

The double bed was completely unmade, the white sheets were incredibly crumpled but looked so soft.

“Sorry for the general mess and for the unmade bed, angel, I didn't plan on having company tonight” he whispered onto your lips before sitting down on the bed with you.

You started kissing his neck and, when you nibbled at the tender skin right under his ear, a little moan escaped his lips.

That little sound elicited an uncontrollable fire in your heart. You wanted to hear more of those sounds, immediately.

He started fumbling with his phone and, a few seconds later, music started filtering into the room from a bluetooth speaker on a bookshelf full of trinkets of any kind.

There was a collection of ancient ships in bottles, a wooden model pirate ship, many little succulents and what looked like antique rings and pendants amongst tons of well-loved books.

His lips on your collarbone brought you back to the task at hand.

He stood and prompted you to do the same. He removed his jacket and you started fumbling with the zipper of yours.

When you finally removed it, he kissed you again and moaned into your mouth when your hand sank in his hair, tugging lightly.

Your lips slowly started their descent from his mouth to his neck and lower.

His almost totally unbuttoned shirt allowed you to reach his collarbone and chest easily. His skin was incredibly soft and hot to the touch. He smelled divine, too.

You made quick work of the two last buttons of his shirt and it fell on the floor, joining his jacket and yours.

When your lips skimmed over his left nipple, another little strangled whimpery sound left his throat and you knew exactly what to do.

You dropped to your knees in front of him and his eyes almost rolled back into his skull at the sight.

You reached for the button of his trousers and he whimpered your name when you successfully freed him.

He was left just in his boxers in front of you, but the item did a poor job at concealing how much the situation was affecting him.

The golden glow of the lava lamp looked delicious on his skin. And you wanted to see all of him.

“You don't have to” he whispered, caressing your cheek, gently.

“But I want to” you answered him in a whisper, right before reaching for the elastic band of his boxers while keeping your eyes on his.

“Please, angel” he begged you when your fingers dipped inside and tugged at the fabric just a little, letting it snap right back with a sharp sound.

You finally peeled the black cotton off his toned thighs and you gasped when his member sprang free and slapped against his soft tummy.

Your mouth watered in an instant.

He looked deliciously needy, so the more you admired him the more impatient he got.

He caressed your lower lip with his thumb and he bit his own hard when you grasped his wrist and opened your mouth to let his digit rest on your tongue, just to torture him a little more.

You stroked his member a few times while sucking at his thumb.

When, finally, your tongue licked at his tip, a loud growl left his lips and both his hands sank into your hair.

You let his tip rest on your tongue for a moment and then you wrapped your lips around it, sucking gently and reveling in the sight of his abdomen contracting and his eyes squeezing shut.

His eyes met yours again immediately when your hands covered his, on both sides of your head and you motioned for him to move his hips forward and then backwards.

He cursed at the first thrust, and moaned when you encouraged him to just go on and fuck your mouth.

He did it gently, ensuring that you were ok and checking up on you every few thrusts.

Your hands didn't stop exploring his body. You started caressing his strong thighs feeling powerful at the sight of goosebumps covering his skin because of your touch. He sighed when your thumbs pressed into the delicate skin of his inner thighs and moaned your name out loud when your hands ended up on his ass, kneading his soft supple skin and prompting him to go a little harder if he wanted.

The song sounding through the speaker made you want him even more and the more you felt and watched him thrusting and groaning, the more your mouth watered for him, enhancing his sensations.

He had a tight grip on your hair and he kept arching his back at the feeling of your mouth around his cock.

Suddenly, he pulled out of your mouth and yanked you up to stand before him.

Get up off your knees girl

Stand face to face with your God

His eyes bore holes into yours as he admired your disheveled state. Your lips and chin were shining with your saliva and his precum and your hair was a mess because of the tight grip of his hands.

Before you knew it, his mouth was on yours, licking, sucking and biting at your lips with intense hunger, tasting himself in the process.

He grasped the hem of your dress and removed it from your body at lightning speed, leaving you just in your bra, panties and dark sheer tights.

It was your turn to gasp this time when his kisses followed a slow path from your neck to your tummy as he sank down on his knees before you. You were about to beg him, but a strangled whimper left your lips instead, when he pinched the waist of your thighs between his teeth and tugged downwards.

He quickly removed them with your help and you shivered before his hungry eyes.

His fingers skimmed over the elastic band of your simple cotton panties and your skin covered in goosebumps.

“Y-you don't have to” you whispered, diverting your eyes from his burning gaze and feeling shy and self-conscious all of a sudden.

“You are right. I don't have to. I need to.” He whispered, squeezing your hips and leaning forward to gently press his nose against your mound.

“Please, take them off for me, love” he whispered and you let your panties fall on the floor at his request.

His hands slowly caressed down your legs and prompted you to spread them a little wider.

“Good girl” he praised you with that deliciously raspy voice of his that got you melting.

When his warm breath made contact with your skin, your knees almost buckled, but it was when his tongue licked a broad stripe over you that you really feared that your legs wouldn't hold you upright.

You sank your nails into his shoulders when he started making out with your cunt and you realized that you were much closer than you thought.

It was almost embarrassing.

Your hands tangled in his hair and he groaned when you tugged at it without realizing.

The vibrations of his groan had you almost screaming his name out loud as your hips pressed against his mouth.

Two of his fingers started caressing your labia, collecting your increasing wetness, while his tongue spoiled your clit expertly.

He slowly slid a finger inside you and your mouth fell open, but no word came out. You felt your walls fluttering and contracting around it and were ready to beg him to add another and move them when he spoke.

“You are so tight, love. I can't wait to feel you around my cock.” he said and you moaned, sounding a little desperate.

“But first, I need you to make a mess all over my face. C'mon baby, cum for me” he begged you and curled his fingers sharply over and over again, making your knees feel like jelly.

The moment he sucked your clit into his mouth was when you knew he was going to get what he wanted.

You let go then, moaning his name and clinging onto his hair and shoulders for dear life.

His fingers kept moving at a soft rhythm and his mouth didn't cease its onslaught on your clit until you forcefully dragged him away from you to stand up in front of you.

He looked disheveled too, now, and absolutely drunk on your pussy. His eyes told you that he would have gone on and on at eating you out till morning if you hadn't stopped him.

Get up off your knees boy

Stand face to face with your God.

You didn't even leave him the time to catch his breath before you crashed your mouth to his hungrily, tasting yourself onto his luscious lips.

He wrapped his arms around your body and unclasped your bra, before pushing you on the bed and climbing on top of you without breaking the kiss.

The sheets felt incredibly soft and cool under your flushed skin.

He crawled on top of you and stole your breath away with another kiss, before opening the drawer of his nightstand and retrieving a condom.

You helped him put it on and then you grasped his shoulders and arched your back when you felt him sliding his tip along your slit.

You spread your legs even further and whispered his name on his lips.

His hands on either side of your head cradled your face before his hips started pressing against yours, allowing him to enter you slowly.

I'm ready for love, I'm ready for war

But I'm ready for more.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan and you felt yourself clenching around him harshly.

He whimpered at the feeling and his face contorted in a pained expression.

His hips stopped and his voice echoed faintly into the room, needy and strained.

“Love, relax for me, please. Fuck, you are so tight. If you keep squeezing me like this, I'm going to cum” he begged you and you tried your best to relax, feeling his thumbs caressing your cheeks gently.

“Yeah, baby, just like this. Good girl” he praised you smiling.

His body was already covered in a thin layer of sweat and when, finally, he was pressed inside of you to the hilt, goosebumps covered his skin.

You couldn't make a sound. The feeling of being finally full slowly registering into your brain had you completely forgetting how to breathe properly.

“Breathe, baby” He had to remind you, leaning his forehead against yours and kissing your lips.

The first thrust had your legs wrapping around his hips and a strangled moan of his name leaving your lips.

Soon, he set a steady rhythm, pressing you into the matress with his strong hips and, with every thrust, you started feeling lighter and lighter. You had completely forgotten about your shitty day and, by the blissful look in his eyes, you were almost sure he had too.

The song had faded away long ago and now your bodies were dancing only on the symphony of the sounds of the shared pleasure you were experiencing.

You were both panting heavily and sweat caused your bodies to stick together. Drops of it were slowly trickling down his neck and suddenly you found yourself licking them away from his skin.

The sounds leaving his lips increased in volume and pitch the more he approached his high and were heavenly. You mentally thanked every entity in the universe for letting you find a man that wasn't afraid of being vocal in bed.

Hs hair kept tickling your face as it swayed back and forth with the rhythm of his trusting and was completely disheveled.

His skin glowed in the low flickering light of the lava lamp and you reveled in the sight of his face, scrunched up in utmost pleasure. You trailed a finger over the wrinkled bridge of his nose and he moaned your name.

As you started sucking and biting at the tender skin of his neck again, he did something that left you without words.

He grasped your wrists and pressed them together above your head on the bed so quickly that you almost didn't see it happen.

“Are you ok with this?” He whispered into your ear and cursed when you quickly nodded your head.

Then he maneuvered the little hair tie you were wearing on your wrist around his fingers so that it bound your wrists together, trapping you.

You gasped at the unexpected gesture.

His pupils were blown wide as he quickened his pace even more, squeezing your wrists in his hand, basking in the feeling pulsing through his cock and slowly losing his mind.

You both couldn't take your eyes away from the other, admiring as pleasure took hold of your bodies and minds every second more.

Finally, the orgasm hit you like a strong wave and brought him with you a few seconds after.

The room filled with moans and whimpers while the glow of a car passing by in the street illuminated his face as it scrunched up in pleasure. It was the most breathtaking sight you had ever experienced.

His eyes were screwed shut and his teeth bared before his mouth went slack with a loud moan, while you kept moaning his name, digging your heels into his lower back.

Then the room turned silent and the only sound filling the space was the heavy panting coming from your chests.

He let go of your wrists then, and gently kissed your reddened skin there, before slumping down on top of you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

He slid out of you but didn't move away.

When you finally recovered, your eyes fixated onto the ceiling, mesmerized by the fluctuating glow of the lava lamp, while you caressed his hair.

After a while, he placed a kiss on your lips and then stood with a groan and went towards what you assumed was his bathroom.

You got up too and started looking around for your clothes.

When he came back and noticed what you were doing, he looked a little taken aback. He came closer to you and grasped your hands in his, looking you straight in the eyes before speaking.

"You can stay if you want. I'd love it if you stayed, honestly” he whispered onto your lips and a smile spread on your face at his invitation.

After a quick shared shower, you fell asleep almost immediately, but all of a sudden you woke up to a dark room.

It took you a while to understand where you were exactly but when you did, a little smile spread on your face.

You turned around ready to wrap yourself into Jake's arms only to discover that his side of the bed was empty and cold.

A fait glow was coming from outside the room and, after a while, you decided to see what it was.

You stood, fixed the t-shirt he gave you around your body and silently padded out of the bedroom.

There he was, sitting at his desk, slightly hunched and scribbling away on a piece of paper with an acoustic guitar in his lap illuminated by the low light of the lava lamp that he had moved from the bedroom.

You were about to approach him silently but he must have felt your presence because he turned around and smiled, motioning you to join him.

He placed the guitar on the floor and patted his lap.

The moment your skin made contact with his again you felt your heart flutter.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

“Writing. You got me inspired. And I think I finally fixed that song” He said, caressing your hip.

“Well, I'm happy to have been of help” you said, chuckling and leaning your head against his.

“You deserve a reward for it” he said, grasping your hips and placing you in front of him on the table with a glint in his eyes that told you that he wasn't even remotely done with you yet.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

A/N: To those of you who need a visual reference of that moment...here it is 😉

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld

More in the comments.

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

[ericshoney]

Quen's sister ~ Chris Sturniolo (Part two)

Summary: After meeting the Sturniolo triplets and getting Chris' number you've been texting non-stop, which your sister notices and makes a plan.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames, surprise date, fluff

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

Over the past few weeks, you and Chris had been texting non-stop. It had been friendly but also kinda flirty. You had many jokes and sent many memes to each other. You were often found with your head in your phone, but now a massive smile was etched onto your face and soft laughter left your mouth.

Quen noticed this and knew it was Chris. Why? Only because Nick and Matt were experiencing the exact same thing. Chris was found buried in his phone, smiling and laughing as well.

So the three knew they had to make a plan. They had started simple, group hangout. You and Quen would go to their place, they would go to yours or you'd meet somewhere and do something.

As all this happened, your sister, Nick and Matt noticed how close and connected you and Chris were. They also saw how both of you liked each other but wouldn't dare admit it.

"We gotta get them on a date." Quen said.

Her, Nick and Matt were sat in a coffee shop thinking of another plan. Quen had said she went to meet Larray whilst Nick said he had a meeting for Space Camp and needed Matt to drive him. Neither you or Chris suspected a thing.

"What are we going to do, say we're going for dinner but actually only they show up?" Matt asked sarcastically.

"That's fucking genius!" Nick exclaimed.

"Yes! We can book the table and time but they arrive!" Quen shouted.

"I was joking." Matt muttered.

"It's a good idea, joke or not." Nick said, patting Matt's shoulder.

So the three made a plan. They booked a table at a nice restaurant under Chris' name. Quen messaged you to get ready for dinner at six, whilst Nick said the same to Chris and said they would meet you there, but in reality they would just go home.

~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, you took an Uber to the restaurant, thinking you were meeting for dinner. Not knowing you were about to have a date with Chris.

When you arrived and got out. You sent a message to Quen, but didn't get a reply. You waited a few minutes thinking she must be on her way, when you saw Chris walking over.

"Hey!" He greeted cheerfully.

"Hey, Chris." You responded.

He smiled and gave you a hug. You smiled, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. When he pulled away, you felt slightly cold.

"Are we early?" Chris then asked.

You checked the time and saw it was five fifty. You know the table was booked for six.

"Not really, maybe they are inside?" You suggested.

"Let's go see." He replied.

You both went inside and spoke to the waiter who led you to an empty table. You thanked the waiter and sat down, looking at the menu and texting your siblings you were at the table.

Ten minutes past and no responses from either Quen, Nick or Matt. They didn't show up either. You both ordered some drinks, still waiting for your siblings.

"So, how you been?" Chris asked.

"I've been good, I started posting on TikTok more." You answered.

"I saw." He replied, smiling.

"You follow my TikTok?" You asked.

"Of course! Love the prank ones." He said.

You smiled and continued chatting. You shared some stories of your past week and some funny videos you've both found. The night went on as you ordered food, totally ignoring the fact that Quen, Nick and Matt didn't show until it was time to leave.

Chris paid, which you were grateful for even though you said he didn't have too. He smiled as you went outside about to get an Uber.

"You know, it was fun, just us." Chris said.

"Yeah, I totally forgot it was supposed to be a group thing." You responded.

"Kinda like a date." Chris mumbled.

"Yeah." You whispered.

You looked up at Chris as he looked down at you. Both of you smiled at each other.

"I really like you." Chris blurted out.

"I really like you too." You replied.

"Wanna maybe go on another date?" He suggested.

"I'd love too!" You exclaimed, making him laugh.

"Okay, text you later, sweetheart." He responded, kissing your cheek as he got in an Uber.

You smiled and got in another Uber, heading home, a massive smile on your face.

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

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[kangaroosmile]

Rainy hike, warm bath, soft kisses - Bang Chan

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description: After a rainy hike with Chan, Seungmin and Jisung, Chan invites you to his apartment because you are cold and he has a bathtub. After that confessions happen.

pairing: Bang Chan × gnreader

genre: friends to lovers; they like eachother but don't get it; confessions, soft making out

word count: ~2,3 k

You can find more of my stories under Stray Kids Masterlist

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡- ♡-

“I told you we should have taken the other hiking trail down. It would have been way faster”, whined Jisung behind you. Chan, who was right in front of you, looked back, his hood nearly falling off.

“This is the safer option, Sung.”

“Just for your information, my socks are wet”, announced Seungmin from behind Jisung. You started to laugh.

“Mine too.” And with this all three men started to laugh. When you started your hike early in the morning, the sun was still shining but just as you had half of the distance behind you, it started to rain. At first it wasn't much but soon the intensity increased. Now 2 hours later you all were soaking wet.

“We should be at our car in about 15 minutes”, announced Chan after looking at his phone. Seungmin, Jisung and you made a loud “yay” sound, which had Chan laughing but still shaking his head.

When you finally reached Chan's car, you hurried to get in.

“How could the forecast mess up so much? It wasn't supposed to rain till next week”, whined Jisung, taking off his shoes and socks to dry them a bit. As he did, you turned up the temperature but still shivered.

“There will be some traffic jam”, muttered Seungmin, his eyes glued to his phone. You let out a sigh and rubbed your arms to try and warm you up a bit.

“I'm hungry.” You couldn't hold back and started to giggle.

“You sound like a child Jisung”, laughed Chan but then looked briefly at you. “There should be some snacks in the gloves box. Can you look?” You opened the gloves box carefully and took out a few protein bars. Your mouth twisted for a second. It wasn't like you hated protein bars but you didn't like the consistency that many protein bars had. You gave Jisung and Seungmin each one bar and opened one for yourself. Just as you were ready to take the first bite you could hear Chan making a soft sound. You eyes him from the side, let out a sigh and held the bar in front of his mouth. With a light giggle he bit into the protein bar and began to chew.

“Not even a thank you? And I thought you were a gentlemen”, you muttered under your breath but loud enough to be heard, holding back a grin that was starting to spread on your lips.

“Thank you”, he mumbled with his mouth still full.

“Hyung, you are so disgusting! Don't talk with your mouth full”, Seungmin laughed and reached forward to close Chan's mouth. As Chan and Seungmin continued this little fight, you laid back and began to eat your own protein bar. At least the consistency was somewhat manageable.

When Chan stopped the car in front of Seungmins and Jisungs apartment complex, you still felt cold.

“Say hi to Minho and tell him to make you some hot soup”, said Chan, looking back at the two men. Jisung started to laugh.

“You know him, Hyung. He probably already did it but gonna act like it's nothing.”

“And he is gonna nag about us going out on a hike today”, Seungmin continued with a soft smile on his lips and a certain warmth in his voice.

“It's so sweet but disgusting at the same time”, you commented with a laugh and only a few would notice that it was actually a sad, longing one. You felt Chan's glance on you but chose to ignore it. Chan waited until the door to their apartment complex felt shut behind Seungmin and Jisung. For a moment you two stayed silent.

Chan turned towards you a bit in his seat.

“Are you still cold?” You nodded slowly as you rubbed your hands together.

“Should have put on something more warming”, you sighed. Chan started the car.

“If you want you can come with me. You can take a bath that will warm you up and after that I will drive you home. What do you think?” He was saying it so casually but you noticed his fingers drumming against the wheel, giving him away. But why would he be even nervous, you thought.

“Won't your girlfriend find it weird when another person takes a bath in your bathtub?” You thought you said something wrong when Chan kept silent, but them he let out a low sigh, as he rubbed his neck.

“We broke up a couple of weeks ago”, he whispered. “So no need to think about her.” His words made you speechless for a moment.

“What?” He looked at you for a second before he focused his eyes back on the street. “Why… didn't you tell me? We have been friends for ages.” Friends… that's all you ever gonna be, you had to remind yourself. Even though you sometimes wished for more. Chan let out a short laugh which didn't sound real. He stayed silent for a moment, it seemed to you as if he was trying to find the right words.

“Well… I guess it was never really the right time. I didn't want to bother you with this when I knew you had a lot on your mind because of work.” Your hand found Chan's shoulder softly patting it.

“That's really kind of you but you could never bother me, Channie”, you muttered. Chan hummed at that and looked at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “Please come to me next time when something happens. Just because you are older, doesn't mean you have to keep everything to yourself.”

Chan stopped at the parking lot in front of his apartment complex but instead of getting out he leaned over the central console and pulled you into a hug. It was so out of the blue you started to laugh at his action but soon you melted into his hug.

“You really are cold. Let's get you inside”, Chan whispered as he backed away and opened the door. You followed him and together you walked into his apartment complex. Everything was still the same. Well it wasn't that long ago that you were last here but it had been at least 3 months. You placed your shoes next to Chans.

“You can already start the water. I will look for some clothes you can wear and also a towel.” With a short nod you agreed and nearly sprinted to his bathroom to start the water. The sound of the water made you feel calm. As you watched the water get higher and higher in the small tube, Chan knocked at the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” As You turned, you hummed and watched as Chan opened the door. He held his hands out and you grabbed the pile.

“Thanks, Channie”, you said with a smile that Chan returned. For a moment he stayed where he was. “Chan?”, you asked with a light chuckle. You weren't sure but it seemed as if Chans ears were getting redder. He muttered something under his breath which sounded like an apology and escaped his bathroom. This was a bit strange, you thought as you watched him leave. You pulled your still slightly wet clothes off your skin and got into the warm bath. You let out a low hum and closed your eyes for a moment.

It took a while but slowly your feets were getting warmer again. Then suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“Chan?”, you ask confused.

“I'm sorry… I need to take my medicine now and I forget to take them out before you got in.” Without even seeing him, you knew he was embarrassed. “Can I come in?” You felt a sudden rush of panic rise up in you. You sat up and turned your back towards the door. Only your head and shoulders were over the water.

“Come in”, you shouted after a deep breath and a few seconds later you heard the door.

“Really, I'm sorry I didn't take them with me”, he muttered as he started to go through his bathroom cabinet. You started to giggle. How absurd this situation was. When you turned your face to watch him, you saw his red ears but also the wide smile on his face. “This situation is kinda strange isn't it?”

“It is”, you laughed and smiled at him when his eyes found yours. For a moment you two just stared at each other.

“Did the bath warm you up?”, he asked as he turned towards you a bit. Maybe you should find it strange that he still was in the bathroom, but you didn't.

“Yes it did. Thanks again for inviting me”, you said. “I will probably get out soon.” This got Chan moving again, as if he forgot you were sitting in the bathtub naked. He coughed and turned around.

“Sure. I will be in the living room.” With that he went out, closing the door quietly behind him. You let out a sigh as you stood up and got out of the bathtub. You patted yourself dry and got into Chans clothes. It felt oddly domestic having his clothes in your body. You let it a sigh as you watched yourself in the mirror. You left the bathroom, finding Chan in his small living room. When you entered he looked up from his phone some words already on his lips but he stopped.

“What?”, you asked with a light laugh on your lips, looking down on the slightly bigger shirt and shorts. “I know it's too big but at least it's comfy.”

“You didn't ask why we broke up”, he muttered all of the sudden, looking at everything but you. This took you by surprise.

“I thought because you didn't tell me before you didn't want to talk about why you broke up.” You walked up to him and sat down next to him. “Why did you two break up?” Instead of answering directly he grabbed one of the pillows and started to play with it.

“Well you see… I really liked her but there was still somebody on my mind. Somebody that was not her”, he started to explain. “And I really tried to forget that person but I couldn't and my Ex noticed that. We talked about it and broke up.” You let out a hum and nodded. As you looked at Chan, you noticed that he was holding back. It seemed like he wanted to say more but he didn't.

“There is more, right?” Slowly he nodded. “Will you tell me?”

“That somebody…”, he began but stopped for a second. “That somebody is you.” Saying that you were surprised was an understatement. You were speechless, didn't know what to reply. All of this time he also liked you? “And I… I know that you most certainly don't feel the same. And that's alright. Maybe it's a bit selfish but I just needed to get this off my chest.” He rambled, still playing with the pillow in his lap. “You just looked so… like home right now. As if we were in a relationship. And… I just needed to tell you this.” Slowly, very slowly to not scare him, you placed your hands on his and noticed that his hands were shaking the tiniest bit.

“You know”, you began to speak, forcing yourself to stay calm. “You are wrong.” Carefully you rubbed over the outside of his hand. His eyes found yours and he looked so confused.

“What?”, he asked quietly.

“You are wrong when you say, you know I don't have feelings for you. I do have feelings for you and that for an awful long time, if I'm honest.” His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Slowly, without looking, he placed the pillow to the side.

“Can I kiss you?” You didn't answer him, instead you leaned in and placed your lips on his. You felt his hands that found their ways towards your cheeks, cupping them. For you that wasn't enough. You needed him closer. You placed your hand on his side and slightly pulled it towards you which he understood and closed the distance between you two. He let out a low hum when you started to carry his back with your fingertips and deepened the kiss. You didn't know someone could be so passionate but still so careful and soft.

Sadly you two were still human beings that needed air to live so you parted but only a few centimetres. You felt his warm breath on your lips which sent shivers down your spine. You let out a sigh and leaned your forehead against his.

“It feels like a dream”, he whispered under his breath, a soft smile on his lips. A light laugh escaped your lips.

“Then this is a dream I never want to wake up from”, you answered as you leaned in again and gave him a short kiss.

“Stay tonight?”, asked Chan after the kiss.

“Is this a question or a statement?” You tried to sound serious but soon you started to giggle. He gave you a soft slap against your knee, which had you laughing even harder. All Chan did was pout.

“I will stay”, you answered his question. “And now stop the pouting, Channie.”

“Only if I get another kiss”, he answered with tinted cheeks. And who were you to deny his sweet request? So you gave him another soft kiss and honestly you could do this forever.

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

Thank you for reading. I hope you are now again as delulu as I am haha. 💕

[st-kitten]

707

next chapter →

WARNINGS: (m.) masturbation, nicknames (baby, babygirl, good girl, princess, pretty girl) little megumi being painstakingly adorable

life as a single father trying to make ends meet was hard for toji fushiguro. his job as a security guard for some company didn't pay much. whatever he earned went into bills, rent, and groceries, leaving next to nothing for him to save or even spend. how he wished there was a simpler way to earn. he'd be exhausted by the time he came home and crashed, only to be woken up by megumi. as much as he loved the kid, getting him ready for school and out the door was harder than an mma fight.

all the babysitters he hired were useless. most of them agreed just to get into his pants so, when they found out that they were hired 'because' he couldn't be home, they left in disappointment.

toji never relied on his neighbours either. partially because they were too old or kids themselves, with parents who also hired babysitters. the closest anyone ever came to being a candidate was his next door neighbour, you.

but he vowed to never approach you. even if it meant leaving megumi to cry midday, over a glass of spilled milk. why?

[flashback]

toji had just helped megumi catch the school bus. waving him goodbye, he went back inside the building. the days got colder each passing day, which meant that he was going to have to repair the broken heater and buy some warm clothes. how ever was he going to afford it in time?

collecting the mail, he stood in the temporary warmth of the elevator, yawning. he really wanted to go back to sleep. his work began at 10 am, so he still had two hours, maybe he could take a nap. or fix that heater himself.

he stood in front of his apartment, looking through his pockets for the keys when he heard muffled noises from the apartment next door. he had only seen you once, when he accidentally took your mail instead of his and had to give it back to you. you always seemed distant and cold, so hearing you softly, yet loudly screaming a series of "yes! yes! keep doing that!" at 8 am made him wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.

he let it slide. people had lives.

but you didn't stop there. when toji came back from his work at night, holding a bag of vegetables, he heard you again.

"oh god! yes!"

and two days later when toji brought megumi home early as he got sick in school, "just like that, baby!" he had to keep babbling random trivia to his son so that he wouldn't hear you. how many times is she going to do this?

when it was toji's day off, and he was taking a nap on the couch, he heard you moaning again. it wasn't that loud, but the single wall between your apartment and his did a terrible job at muffling it. toji was glad that megumi was at school.

[back in present time]

months had passed by and he was still not used to hearing you. he'd forgotten what you looked like, so he didn't recognise you whenever you passed by him or even when you were in the elevator with him. all he knew was that he hated you for being so disturbing.

the day he was dreading finally came when he wanted someone to look after megumi for the night as he had to cover someone's shift, and not a single person was available. with an ale tankard of reluctance, he rang the doorbell, truly expecting you to open it naked, some angry fucker peeking from behind 'cause he didn't get to finish...

so when you opened the door looking the complete opposite; wearing loose sweatpants, a barbie hoodie, house slippers and your hair tied in a messy bun, half a banana dangling in your mouth... toji held back a sigh of relief.

"hey... i'm toji, i live next door," he said, trying to sound sincere.

"i mow woo yooah," you said, chewing the banana quickly, and swallowed it.

"right... listen, i gotta cover an extra shift and i need someone to look after this brat for the night."

you held back a laugh upon hearing him refer to his son like that. you'd only seen megumi from a distance. but, you had no reason to refuse.

"sure! i'd be happy to!"

toji was still unsure about this, but there was no backing out now.

"cool. i'll send him in twenty minutes." toji vanished before you could say anything else. you chuckled to yourself. for a man of his size and built, he sure was a chicken when it came to communication.

you cleaned your living room before he could come back. your place was kid-friendly enough. you made sure you prep the kitchen in case he hadn't had dinner.

your doorbell rang and you scurried to open it.

"here's a list of things you'll have to do... he's... a little tough. but he's a good kid."

you took the list and gave it a brief look and nodded.

"alright, megs, you're gonna be staying with this lady today. i'll be back soo-"

megumi began tugging his father's pants grumpily, upset at his words.

"don't be like that, kid..." toji sighed. he didn't like to exhibit his personal life in front of others.

"please? i'll get you ice cream."

megumi's ears perked upon hearing ice cream. "chocolate?" he cooed.

"yes. now go inside."

clutching a tattered dog plushie (with two heads for some reason), he stepped inside your apartment, looking down.

toji knelt down to meet his eyes. straightening megumi's sweater, he said, "i'll be back tomorrow morning. behave, okay?" megumi nodded, almost on the verge of crying. you held back the 'awwws'.

"alright... i'm trusting you. don't f- mess it up," said toji, looking at you with a glare.

"i won't..." you just smiled solemnly. you'd say the same if you were in his position.

toji wanted to tell you to not have sex for that one night, but he chose not to add fuel to the fire. who was he to tell you not to fuck? if anything, he was mildly jealous that you got to enjoy it so much.

toji left and you turned back to megumi, who was standing in your living room, anxious to move a muscle.

you sighed. "hello, megumi. i'm y/n." you crouched down and held out your hand to him. he hesitated before holding three of your fingers and shaking them. you smiled.

"sorry about this... you don't know me at all and now you're stuck with me. must be weird."

megumi stayed silent. you got up and went to the kitchen, which was open and visible from your living room easily. you opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk that you'd gotten free with something.

"would you like some?" you shook the carton. megumi loved chocolate in any form. not wanting to sound too excited or desperate, he gave a curt nod. you poured him a cup of milk and handed it to him.

"you can sit down wherever you want."

megumi scanned the room and spotted a bean bag. he'd never seen one. he looked at you and then back at it.

"you wanna sit there? sure!" you placed a hand on his head and led him to the corner. you held his cup for him while he tried to sit. he immediately sank into the bean bag, hearing the sound of tiny malleable balls that shifted as he sat down. megumi's eyes widened as he tried not to bolt out of there. when he was settled down, he found it pretty comfortable. he liked how he could stretch his legs and sit at the same time.

"comfy, right?" you said, handing him his cup of chocolate milk. the way he held it with both hands made you want to scream in a pillow. no way that asscrack of a man was his father.

you went over the list once more. it was simple. bedtime was 9 PM, no allergies, likes sweet food, but easily gets a sugar rush, etc. you laughed at the numerous spelling mistakes in it.

"so, what do you like to do?" you asked, sitting down on the floor in front of him.

megumi didn't like talking to babysitters. mostly because they never paid attention to him. he didn't like how they bossed him around. or how they got mad when he asked them if they could play with him. so he would stay silent. nobody ever asked him what he liked to do, so your question caught him by surprise.

he thought about it. what did he like to do?

"paint..."

"you paint?" you asked. you always liked the idea of kids drawing and painting.

megumi nodded. he was obsessed with a box of paints his father had bought him ages ago. the paints were long dried and over. but he still dipped his brush into them, watering them and painting with whatever colour came out of it.

you didn't have paints or brushes that he could use... but an idea struck you and you wondered whether he'd like it.

"wanna paint my room?" you suddenly said.

megumi's eyes lit up with curiosity. won't your walls get damaged? what if he spilled paint on the floor? or on you?

"the walls in my room are sad and empty. i have some paint cans that the painters forgot about when i was renovating. there are some colours still left. what do you say?"

megumi nodded. you got up and went into your room, searching for a shirt you give him as overalls. you pulled out the paint cans from under your bed. you took an old shirt of yours and brought it to him in the living room.

megumi had finished drinking his milk, so he thought he'd keep the cup back. hearing you call his name startled him and he dropped the cup, watching it shatter into pieces. he tensed up and felt his eyes water. you were going to scold him, punish him, maybe even hit him. he deserved it. he broke your cup.

"oh my, are you okay?" you rushed to his side, crouching and checking him for wounds.

"sorry... sorr-" megumi tried his best not to cry. he was expecting an earful at any moment now.

"why?" it was all you asked.

megumi looked at you in shock.

"cup..."

you chuckled sympathetically. "so? cups break all the time."

"i break cup..."

you stood up, unsure of how to convince him that he did nothing wrong.

"okay... you broke the cup." there it was. you were angry. megumi was going to get scolded.

instead, he watched you pick another cup from the shelf. you took the cup, and angling it far from megumi, you threw it.

"and i broke a cup too. guess we're both clumsy..." you shrugged and picked up the pieces, swiping the rest with a broom and tossing them in the garbage.

megumi didn't know what to say. had he really done nothing wrong? it was just a cup... yeah, just a cup.

"come, let's paint my room," you held out your hand to him. slowly, he grabbed it, walking behind you towards your room. your hands were soft and warm. and you didn't pull him or drag him. instead you were walking slower just for him. why were you so kind?

you brought him to your room and asked him to help you spread newspapers on the floor. then you handed him a shirt, helping him put it on since it was huge for him. he looked like a penguin.

"megumi... please, i'll give you more chocolate milk, but can i please take your picture? you're too cute," you asked, clutching your heart.

megumi blushed and nodded, looking away.

you clicked at least twenty pictures of him in your shirt, holding a thick paintbrush, standing on newspaper barefoot. you made a mental note to send these to toji.

"alright, pick your colours."

megumi carefully scanned each colour. then he looked at you. he didn't want to mess up this opportunity. it wasn't every day that he got to paint a wall instead of paper. he wanted to make sure you'd like it.

you seemed the type of person who would appear stern, but on the inside, you were really soft and caring. like a marshmallow. he wanted the room to suit you. being the observant kid, he looked around the room and learned that you liked necklaces, most of which looked like fancy saturns (iykyk). you also liked flowers as there were vases on your nightstand, windowsill and some were on your bookshelves. you also had a lot of books. what really caught megumi's attention was that you had three guitars hung on the wall. your room was totally your personality. he knew what he wanted to paint.

megumi pointed to a few colours and you handed him a few brushes of different sizes. he dipped one in red paint and began painting a few strokes on the wall (only after glancing back at you a hundred times in case you changed your mind). you sat on the bed, watching him focus. he was definitely smarter than kids his age. you admired him.

after a while, you left the room, telling him that you were going to make dinner. curry rice got an approval from him, so you occupied yourself in the kitchen, humming to yourself. you wondered what all he had painted in your absence. you didn't really care about the wall; you only hoped he'd feel safe enough to be a child.

you finished cooking and plated the food, setting on the kitchen island you used as a dining table. you pulled a chair and stacked some couch pillows on it, increasing the height of the seat. you called to megumi, but he didn't answer.

you stepped into the room to call him for dinner again, but no words came from your mouth as you stared at your wall, awestruck.

megumi had painted so many flowers and vines that ran across your wall in different colours. he'd even mixed a few colours and created new ones. he drew the saturn orbs matching your jewellery in the center of some flowers. though he could only paint a part of it and couldn't reach higher, the wall looked full of life.

"megumi..."

he looked at you, anxious to hear what you had to say.

you stood behind him, admiring the wall.

"you made my wall magical. this is so beautiful!"

megumi had a tiny smile on his face.

"you're an artist, gumi" you said, ruffling his hair, and he blushed at the nickname you gave him. nobody ever gave him a nickname apart from his father. people would often forget his name.

he felt his chest swell with pride and happiness. he did a good job.

"let's put fairy lights on the wall!" you chirped and he nodded.

you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. you sat him down on the high chair and you both sat down for dinner. megumi liked the food. but he truly loved how you let him be himself without bossing him around. it finally dawned on him that he had broken your cup, painted your wall, and was eating your food and you had absolutely no problem with it. he felt himself breathe freely.

after dinner, he helped you clean the room and stick fairy lights all across your room. you went overboard with it, but when you switched them on and lay on the bed watching them twinkle, it felt worth it.

"we did a good job, today." you gave him a high five.

megumi yawned and you took it as a sign to prep him for bed. toji forgot to give you his toothbrush, so you tore him a new one. you wouldn't dare let a child sleep in the living room, so you tucked him in your bed. you were so glad you bought that expensive comforter because seeing megumi snuggle into it turned your eyes into beating hearts.

upon his request, you tucked in his ominous dog plushie with him and bid him goodnight. megumi fell asleep easily, snoring softly. you made rounds to the room to check on him and felt your heart melt every time. he was definitely an active sleeper. his positions would get bizarre every time and you'd pull the comforter on him properly each time.

you finally slept on your couch around midnight.

toji didn't sleep a wink. the world's most boring job had him awake all night, opening gates for rich snobs who partied and returned to the semi-residential building at odd hours.

the only thing on his mind was megumi. he prayed that you weren't fucking someone with him in the house. he wondered if he'd eaten. he wondered if he was asleep right now. he hoped you gave him his demon dog to sleep with.

when dawn broke, he was out of there. he drove his dying truck straight to the parking and dashed out of the car. he decided to grab his and your mail, just so he'd have an extra excuse to knock on your door.

he didn't bother asking you for a key. he just yanked open the letterbox and it easily came into his hand. he grabbed whatever was in it.

"did you hear apartment 707? so loud.... that too in the morning"

"how could i not? but, im not surprised..."

toji heard two ladies gossip, waiting for the elevator. 707... his apartment was 706, so it had to be you. he was going to murder you.

he sped in and out of the elevator, rushing to your place. expecting to hear the sound of sex, he stopped in his tracks... you were not having sex? your door was conveniently ajar and toji spotted a few empty cans of paint outside.

he opened the door, peeking in, only to see... his adorable five year old son, jumping around and dancing with you to a christmas song, decorating a large tree in your living room. (christmas tree farm by the one and only... blondie)

if toji could explain how much he wanted to giggle at the sight, he would. but he only watched the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, hands folded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"where every wish comes true!!!" you sang, hanging the ornaments miscellaneously. megumi poked your leg and you picked him up, helping him tie a bell around a branch.

you swayed and danced to the beat with megumi on your shoulders, who laughed loudly.

toji felt his heart melt upon hearing his son laugh. he hadn't heard that sound in a long time.

he looked around and spotted a plate of half-eaten pancakes and glasses of milk. did you drink milk with him? he held back a laugh.

as you turned around, you spotted toji and nearly threw yourself in the tree.

"dad!" megumi chirped, happy to see his father. toji took it as an invitation to come inside. seeing megumi almost as tall as him, he chuckled and looked him in the eye.

"here's your ice cream, stinky," he said, holding a bag full of ice cream cups.

megumi giggled.

toji smiled widely and you sobbed at how cute the kid was. you placed him down and he ran to his father, clinging to his knee. you took the ice cream bag from toji and placed it on the kitchen counter taking the contents out.

[next song: under the tree by sam palladio]

you handed megumi a cup of chocolate ice cream and the uselessly small wooden spoon that came with it.

"which one do you want?" you asked toji who had yawned at least a dozen times by now.

"anything is fine."

you tossed him the pinkest strawberry ice cream cup. he rolled his eyes, but began eating it anyway. you sat next to him on the couch. megumi insisted on sitting under the tree, on the tree-skirt, looking up at the lights and the ornaments from below.

"oh! look!" you said, pulling your phone out to show toji pictures of little megumi in an oversized shirt holding a paintbrush.

"what's this?" toji asked. though his kid looked cute, he still didn't know what happened when he was away.

"yeah, he painted my wall," you replied.

"HE WHAT?" toji asked, surprised. megumi never misbehaved. but i guess he finally snapped.

"yeah! it's so beautiful, i can't stop staring at it," you began mumbling.

this kid ruined your walls and you're happy about it? he thought you'd scold him.

"come, i'll show you," you signalled him to follow you and toji did, worried about the mess his son had made.

he also did not want to see your room, given that he'd heard you have sex plenty of times for it to etch in his mind like a song that just doesn't fucking leave.

he was not expecting for your room to be so... pleasant and unsuspecting. you had a queen-sized bed with fluffy pillows, plants in the room, some equipment on the desk. hell, instead of sex, it smelled like coconut.

you showed him the art megumi had blessed your wall with.

"he's great at painting!"

toji's eyes widened at the intricate designs on the wall. had megumi really painted this? was he this good at it?

"it's... good..." toji didn't know what to say. he felt really sad that his son was capable of something so great and yet toji couldn't do more for him.

you smiled, somehow understanding what he was feeling. it was the same thing you felt about yourself when you realised your love for music.

toji asked you to send him the pictures and you complied. he looked around your room in silence, not knowing what to do. but he decided to address the former elephant in the room.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure," you said, looking down at your phone.

"i don't have the right to pry in your personal life, but... next time you have someone over, keep it down? i don't want megumi to hear... that..."

"huh?"

"you know... what you and your boyfriend do..."

"i don't have one?"

"then whoever you bring home to fuck... just please, keep the volume low," said toji impatiently.

"i didn't bring any... oh, you heard that!" you said as it dawned on you.

"yeah, whatever that is..." toji wanted to hide his face. it felt like giving a child 'the talk'. and you weren't that old too...

"toji..." you called, holding back your laugh. he wondered what was so funny.

"i'm not having sex in here. what you've been hearing..." you almost held it back... "was me recording for quinn."

"huh?"

you sighed as you explained, "it's an app for people who like listening to spicy stories... i'm one of their narrators... i try to pick times when people are busy or not here... but oh my god, i'm so sorry you had to hear that..." you said with a laugh, grabbing his arm apologetically.

toji digested every word you said.

"why on earth would you do that?"

"it pays really well, you know..." you shrugged.

now you had toji's attention. "you get paid for speaking dirty?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"and narrating, reading lines, moaning, whimpering, shouting... the works."

"that's an odd job..." he commented. it truly was. he had no idea things like these existed.

"i'm a singer by profession, so this is just a side hustle. my room is soundproof so i can't hear outside noises, but sadly..."

"you're not ashamed?"

"why would i be? it's great that people like it. you should try listening to some."

"please, no," toji held his palm out to her. he heard you chuckle. "aren't you worried that people might find out about you?"

"of course i don't use my real name."

toji shook his head in disbelief.

"i know you're ancient, but try it someday. who knows, you might end up liking it," you said, showing him the app on your phone.

toji stared at you with a blank face. he wasn't that behind the times, was he? he snuck a glance at your screen, his eyes falling on your username in a corner. embarrassed, he swatted your hand away and you chucked.

"anyway, thanks for looking after my kid." toji got up and left your room as you trotted behind him.

"anytime!"

toji left with megumi, after thanking you once more and making his kid to the same. megumi had definitely enjoyed he spent with you. he wished he could do it again.

a few days passed by and megumi started to become more interactive with you, waving at you, telling about his day when you rode the elevator together, giving you some small sketches he made after you gave him a sketchbook and some colour pencils.

toji still hadn't warmed up to you, but he wasn't as dismissive as he used to be. in fact, he had gotten slightly curious about you. you lived a quiet life, or so it seemed on the outside. but he knew what you did and how unbothered you were about it.

why would people pay to listen to strangers moaning? it seemed bizarre to him. he tried to ignore it.

he was stuck on another night shift, leaving megumi with you. he was glad that his son didn't mind you. and you'd proven to be a capable babysitter. yet, all he wanted was to be near his son. home. the night couldn't get over any sooner.

toji sat in the booth provided to him, watching the streets. nights when people came and went by were just as boring as when nobody showed up. he contemplated taking a nap, but the last thing he wanted was to be fired for slacking off. especially when the night shift paid him a bit more.

he turned side to side in the swivel chair, groaning in frustration. so far, he'd watched eight mma matches on his phone, cussing at how pathetic they were. nothing entertained him enough to keep him awake.

that thing embedded in his subconscious mind suddenly resurfaced, making him gulp in guilt. he could do it. it's not like she'll know... as if he was being watched, toji switched the light off in his booth and discreetly took his phone out, lowering the brightness and pulling out a tangled pair of earphones, and plugged them in. he downloaded that app, signing in with a random email he'd created ages ago.

[mention; compromised: victoria pedretti, on quinn]

he remembered her username and typed it in. not wanting to dwell too much on it, he clicked on the first 'story' he saw. he didn't read the description. he had no idea what he was to expect. thankfully, the audio started with some context. he instantly recognised your voice. based on what he understood in the first few minutes of the introductory chapter, it was a story about an agent watching over the witness she was supposed to protect. he realised that it was a woman x woman story. not that he minded. he just enjoyed listening to your voice. you surely had a singer's voice.

the more he listened, the more engrossed he was in the plot.

"i can stay on the line, sure..." you said, as your character stood below a hotel, at a distance, watching the woman you were on the phone with, from the window, keeping an eye out.

"you're not wearing anything underneath... i might not be the only person watching, you know," you chuckled. your laugh sounded better all over, probably due to the recording quality. toji paid attention to everything he heard.

"...tell me where you're touching...does it feel good?"

"i wanna see your other hand on your breast..."

"do you want me in that room?" your voice was laced with quick breaths...

"now i'm gonna hang up...no, not to touch myself... I don't care that you're close!"

toji sighed in exasperation, truly engrossed in the story.

"wait, shit, there is a man... fuck i think he's armed..."

toji had never clicked on 'next' that fast in his life. okay, he was hooked. when he first heard about this from you, he thought it was just audio-porn. he didn't expect a full on story with a plot, internal monologue, the background noises. it was as if it was happening around him.

the next chapter had you grunt and scream as you fought some attacker. how on earth did she record this shit? was she also fighting in the apartment? he smirked, realising what a double life she was leading.

"i saw that smirk, don't get any ideas..." you said coincidentally and toji had to look around him for a moment.

"you're very, very distracting..." your voice seemed closer whenever the background music got fainter. maybe it was the mic or some technical tweaking. but it really sounded like you were speaking in his ear.

your pants were now mixed with small laughs. it sounded blissful.

"don't ever be sorry for kissing me..." toji was surprisingly okay with hearing sounds of you kissing, probably another woman.

"oh, these lips... can i? touch them? fuck..." you moaned slightly... and then laughed. "did you just bite my thumb? you're so bad... i might have to punish you."

toji had to grasp his phone tightly as heard you make out, hearing your breaths mingled with the sounds of your lips moving against someone else's. you sounded so different, so confident.

"you like that, don't you? me on my knees... touching you, licking you, tasting you..."

fuck

toji knew you were saying this to a woman, but he couldn't help picturing himself in her place. your hums, whimpers, breaths, they were all elevating his senses. he felt his pants tighten.

"yes, fuck..."

"i love your neck..." you panted. toji raised his head, gulping.

"you're so hot... fuck... me..." your moans had started to get louder, breathier.

"what if i don't wanna hurry? what if... i wanna make you beg for it?" toji instinctively let his hand wander down his body, to his pants. he loosened his belt. he slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring out, harder than he expected it to be. your constant moans, whimpers and dirty words became music to his ears as he stroked his cock slowly.

"tell me how good it feels..."

toji groaned, quickening his speed, his eyes closed, his mind visualising your face. he imagined you doing everything he heard you do on the phone. touching him, licking him, tasting him... he fisted his cock to the sounds of your sweet voice, shamelessly.

"so good..." he hissed, as if to answer you, gliding his fist up and down his thick veiny cock, its tip glistening proudly.

"come for me, yes! yes! yes! fuuuuck..." you moan loudly, dragging the last word, breathing shakily.

"god..." toji gave up any restraint he had and let his cock burst like a dam, spoiling his pants.

he was high. high on your voice, your moans, your words. he wished he could experience it for the first time again.

a shrieking honk from the gate snapped toji back into reality. he zipped back up in a hurry, shoving his half-hard cock in his pants. he tied a jacket around his waist to hide it and scurried out of the booth to open the gate.

toji came home early in the morning, feeling floaty. he couldn't forget last night's events. not when you were right there. next door. probably recording the next one. toji didn't know how he was to face you, but he was damn sure about hearing you again.

and hear you he did. for days. he was finding the plot interesting too. but he was addicted to your voice. how were you so confident? how did you manage to record the perfect moans. did you have help? did you get off just to get a good audio? all these questions plagued toji's mind. he really wanted to ask you about it.

but how was he to do it without sounding like a creep? or worse, a pervert? but then again, you did till him about it yourself.

so, when he had to collect megumi from your house after coming back, he came up with the simplest excuse.

"see you later, gumi!" you ruffled his hair, watching him run to his father, who told him to go inside and wait for him.

before you could shut the door, he shoved his foot inside. "hey, uh... i had a question."

"come in..." you moved aside.

you were hungry, but didn't have the time to buy groceries. so, instant ramen it was...

toji followed you to the kitchen, rehearsing the imminent conversation in his head.

"what's wrong?" you asked, looking at his tensed brow.

"i'm a little starved for cash. megumi's birthday is coming and i want to give that urchin something good this time."

"awww..."

"you uh..." was he really going to ask that? would she even listen? "you were talking about that..."

you on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. so many of your friends had tried to do that same. the fact that toji was considering doing that made the composer in you mildly excited.

"you want to earn cash on quinn, am i right?"

toji's head shot up, looking at you, slightly horrified and ready to get his ass kicked out the door.

"alright."

"wait, what?"

"i'll help you... sell your voice."

"are you serious?"

"do i look like i'm joking?"

"would i even... be able to... you know..."

you leaned on the kitchen island, looking at toji, who had sat down in a chair across from you.

"just do it..."

"you expect me to do it just like that?" he asked.

"what, like it's hard?" you snorted.

toji just looked at you blankly. "you mean, you do it just like that?"

"women are expert at faking it, you know?" you smirked.

toji scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes.

wickedly, you began panting, whimpering, opening your mouth as lewd moans spilled out of you. you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, and whined, "yes! toji! just like that!"

toji felt like he'd been shot in the head... both, his heads... he felt a bulge in his pants. hearing you moan and actually seeing you moan were two different things. the way your eyes shut tight, brow creased, mouth opened and chest heaved, toji couldn't take his eyes of you.

you saw his reaction through squinted eyes and stopped, reverting to your normal self, scratching the back of your head, completely unbothered.

"so yes, toji... just like that..." you said, without the moans this time.

toji gulped.

"so, do you wanna record a demo? i can send it to my agent. if she likes it, she'll ask you to record a proper script."

toji sighed... what was he getting into? he didn't actually imagine himself doing it. would it be embarrassing? no, fuck it. he could really use the extra cash.

"no one can know," he said sternly.

"you can use a pseudonym. you can literally put an emoji as your name."

"whatever. as long as nobody can trace it back to me."

"i guarantee you they won't. let's send an anonymous demo, 'kay?"

"fine. but, i don't know how to do this shit. it's too... fucking dumb."

you chuckled. "it is. dumb and fun. but doesn't it make you feel... like a king, knowing that the world gets off to your voice?"

toji scoffed and smirked. oh, how he wished she knew that he had been getting off to her voice nearly every damn night, palming his dick, picturing you saying all those dirty things to him.

he followed you to your bedroom where you had set up your mic, your laptop, you desk, under a labyrinth of wires and cables. he was made to sit in the chair facing the mic. the fuck am i doing...

you tapped on your laptop, leaning forward on the desk. toji's hammering anxiety took a break when he realised how close you were. your tits were practically in his face. he'd only ever seen you in baggy clothing, so this was a pleasant surprise. they were big. but they'd easily fit in his hands. he was a little disgusted by the fact that he was severely attracted to you.

"okay... what would you like to say?"

"i don't know..."

"what are your go-to swear words?"

"uh... fuck?"

"and?"

"i don't swear because of my kid... so, i don't know... this is difficult, y/n..."

"what do you have to fear?"

she was right. what was he to lose? to fear? nothing. he knew how hot was. he knew ladies threw themselves at him. he knew his sex appeal was impeccable. so then why was this so difficult?

oh, he knew why. you. it was because of you. the way he'd listened to your moans all week, stealing glances at you whenever he saw you, and now that he was in your bedroom with you...

fuck that! this bitch just faked an orgasm in front of me without a problem. i can at least spit out a few sentences.

"how do you start?"

"well, i usually have a script and there's good enough build up."

"so, give me one of your scripts."

"really? you wanna say, 'touch my pussy'?"

"fuck no. ugh, this is frustrating," he groaned loudly, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.

"hey, wait, that's good!"

"huh?"

"say it again."

"this... is frustrating?"

"tojiiiii," you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. "say it like you did before. with the groan and all."

"i can't just do it on command."

"do you want me to leave you here alone with a gravure magazine then?"

toji's narrowed his eyes at her. "you read those?"

"no, but, you get the point."

toji sighed. you thought of another way to get him riled up. if a sexy audio wasn't gonna happen, then an angry one it was... there were plenty of angsty stories in demand. you clicked on record without him knowing.

"stop acting like a virgin, toji," you said and he shot you a glare. you let your mouth run a marathon, "no, for real, you're a grown ass man with a nice, deep voice. you look like you'd be pissed off if someone so much as looks at you wrong. or worse, if someone tries to mess with your son-"

"watch your mouth," toji growled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers, pressing it tightly.

"or what?"

"or you regret ever letting me in this house. that kid fucking loves you. you keep him out of this. do not... ever use him... to use me," he snarled.

you pressed the spacebar to stop recording. toji pulled his hand back, putting two and two together.

"that... was something."

"i mean it."

"sorry... but damn, angry toji... is sexy..." you commented.

"yeah? you like that?" toji said with a smirk. you squealed, regretting not recording that.

"SAY THAT AGAIN." you began recording again.

toji let out a deep chuckle. "you want me to say that again, pretty girl?" oh, he was starting to get into it.

you nodded.

"beg for it..." toji whispered, slightly closer to the mic. he watched you hold back another squeal.

"use your words, baby."

you were almost jumping up and down at how good he sounded. you really wanted to use his voice. you figured your agent would ignore yours and focus on his.

you exhaled, "please, please say it again!"

"hmm..." toji's baritone voice reverberated in the mic. "that doesn't sound so convincing, princess..."

you banged the air above the desk, pursing your lips and grinned.

"please please please! i'll do anything!"

oh, toji was starting to see the fun in it. "anything, you say..."

"yes! whatever you say!" you too were blending well with him.

"get on your knees, then baby..." he said brusquely.

your jaw dropped, morphing into a wide smile as you silently cheered him. toji found your reactions entertaining. true, you'd been doing this longer than him, so you were probably used to hearing all that. you were genuinely enjoying him.

you gave him a thumbs up and he made his closing statement, making sure to murmur, "good girl..."

you stopped recording and grabbed toji by his shoulders, shaking him. "AAARRRRGGGH. you are a natural!!!!!"

toji smirked. that was oddly easy to do. mostly because you helped him into it.

"well, i'm not one to brag..."

"no, please brag."

"heh. do you think your agent will like it?"

"she will eat it. she will want to become it."

"how much do you make exactly?" he asked.

"i had to do a lot of small freebies until i got my big break. i made [good amount] per episode. i've done three stories, each with twelve chapters. im working on a fourth one... so it's incomplete."

that must have been the one toji had listened to the first time. he did click the first thing he saw. he'd been replaying the first three episodes over and over, coming undone to them. but now that you'd said there were more...

"that's actually very..."

"rich, right? i was surprised too."

"so, you're gonna send it to your agent now?"

"yep. she'll like it. under what name do you want it?"

toji thought about it. he couldn't have this traced back to him. not with megumi's life at risk. it had to be something entirely random. yet meaningful...

"how about... 707?"

you grinned. that was a smart pseudonym. "done."

"well... tell me how it goes. and once again... not a word about this in public. what happens in this room, stays in this room," he warned you.

"WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN!"

toji chuckled as he stood up to leave and rejoin his son. before he did, he inched closer to you and whispered in your ear, "beg for it, babygirl."

you groaned and flapped your hands, fanning yourself. "you're so good at this!"

you'd sent that clip to your agent and got a response from her a few days later. to say the least, you were surprised by her request.

so, you stood at toji's door, phone in hand. he opened it.

"'sup?"

"it's my agent."

toji shut the door behind him, not wanting megumi to hear anything.

"what'd she say?"

you simply held out your phone and the text she sent you.

'WHO IS THAT?' 'GIRL LOCK THAT MAN IN THE BASEMENT' 'he's got the job if he wants it. i just got a killer script! the only condition is'

toji raised an eyebrow at the last message.

'you both have to do it together'

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

amber freeman x reader with 14 would be soooo good

14. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

SCREAM WEEK PT 3/7

I got multiple requests for this one character/prompt combo. I couldn't not write it

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Amber smiled at the party-goers inside her house as she walked through the kitchen, pleased to see that people were having a good time. Her house was the perfect place for parties. It was massive and her parents were out of town almost every weekend. 

She got roped into a conversation with Wes and Tara, sipping her beer every now and then. 

‘’We should go. I’ll ask Mindy if she wants to come,’’ Wes said, looking forward to tomorrow’s double feature. ‘’The drive-in is an hour from here, but I’ll ask to borrow my mom’s car.’’ 

Amber wrinkled her nose. ‘’Do we really have to invite her? I don’t want to deal with her detailed critiques on the drive back.’’ 

‘’They’re showing her favorite movie. We can’t not invite her, Amber,’’ Tara reasoned, not wanting to be the one to exclude a friend — even for understandable reasons. 

‘’The last time we went to the theater with her, she didn’t shut up the whole walk to your house,’’ Amber countered, her irritation evident in her voice. ‘’I do not care what she will write in her Letterboxd review or what she—’’ She didn’t get to finish her sentence, her jaw tightening when she caught a girl chatting you up on the couch. She had a mischievous grin as was leaning in close, her hand resting dangerously high on your thigh. ‘’I’ll be right back,’’ she told Tara and Wes, her eyes not withdrawing from you.

She made her way through the crowd, quickly coming up with a way to get the brunette to go away. You were her girl. 

‘’Sorry to interrupt,’’ she interjected, approaching the couch with a practiced smile. "Didn't you leave with Sabrina last week? You might want to have a chat with her. I overheard her mentioning something about chlamydia and possibly spreading it around. It might be a good idea to schedule a check-up with your doctor." 

The brunette beside you thanked Amber for the information and hurried off in search of Sabrina. Amber’s warning made her look like a good person, like she was looking out for that girl, but you knew her too well to believe her intentions were good. 

Amber took a sip of her beer, then huffed a laugh. ‘’They think that because they’re lesbians they can’t catch anything.’’ 

‘’Sabrina does not have chlamydia,’’ you asserted, eyeing Amber skeptically.

She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘’She might. She’s making out with Connor on the porch, the guy gets around a lot.’’

You gave her the benefit of the doubt for this once. ‘’I’m gonna get another beer,’’ you said, standing up to get a bottle in the kitchen, but Amber grabbed your arm. 

‘’Actually, we’re low on beer. Can you help me get some?’’ 

Following someone into their dark basement was on the list of things to never do in horror movies. That’s how a lot of idiots get murdered. But you doubted Amber would ever plot to kill you. She could be evil-minded, but she wasn’t a psychopath.

The basement door closed behind you, making you jump. ‘’How many beers do you need to bring up? Because if it’s more than a dozen, we should ask Chad for backup.’’

Ignoring your question, Amber halted at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze piercing into you like daggers. ‘’What the fuck was that?’’ she snapped, her tone sharper than the edge of a knife.

Caught off guard by her sudden outburst, you blinked in confusion. ‘’What was what?’’ 

‘’Don’t play dumb with me. I saw you flirting with that bitch upstairs. You let her put her hand on your thigh. On my couch.’’

Ah, so that's what all the tension was about upstairs. Why she made up that nasty rumor about Sabrina. Amber was jealous. 

‘’I thought we weren’t exclusive.’’ 

‘’We’re not,’’ she grumbled, defensive.

‘’Then why are you barking at girls that get anywhere close to me?’’ you pressed as you took a step forward, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. ‘’Are you perhaps…jealous?’’ 

Amber's reaction was immediate, her pride refusing to let your insinuation slide. She let out an indignant huff. ‘’I’m way better looking than that girl,’’ she retorted, her voice dripping with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

She wasn’t wrong. No girl in Woodsboro was prettier than Amber. 

‘’Then why are you acting like she can take me from you? That girl and I were just flirting for fun — at least, I was.’’ 

Despite your reassurance, Amber didn't release her grip on her emotions. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between you, standing so close you could feel her breath as she spoke. ‘’Never do that again, got it?’’ she hissed with a possessiveness to her tone that made your core clench. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre  @emerald-09

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff  @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

[miniwheat77]

Power Hungry. (Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, non con, virginity loss, Graves is pushy, military talk, blood, violence, no minors- you know the drill!

Soap is not dead on this blog, he’s alive and well. That was not canon here! XD NOT EDITED

It’s no secret that Commander Graves has a thing for you.

He has since the day he met you.

He didn’t care who was around when he flirted with you. He didn’t care who heard. You didn’t mind him or his flirting at first. You got along with him pretty well. You didn’t see him too much because you were apart of task force 141 and he was with his own group. But that didn’t mean you didn’t like him. You of course had no intentions of ever pursuing his advances. You were a scared virgin and that was that.

Things changed when he took over Alejandro’s base and attacked Soap.

He held you inside Alejandro’s base alongside him. Had you tied up. He killed many innocent people and threatened you. Held a gun to your head.

It was a weird day when Soap and Rudy said he died in the tank, and you heard nothing about him for months.

Until you were sitting in that office talking to Shepherd.

“Without an army you’ve got nothing.” Gaz spoke. You were standing next to him. “Wrong again boys.” When Graves appeared on screen your stomach fell. Knowing what he’s capable of. What he said he’d do to you if you didn’t cooperate. You tried to hide yourself behind Gaz. “Un-fucking-believable.” Soap groans. “Soap… you miss me?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he says it. You hear nothing but ringing in your ears for the next few minutes. Not until you hear your name and freeze up.

“Is that Y/N behind you, Gaz?” Graves smiles. He bites his lip and you freeze. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on. Let me see her. Show me that pretty face.” Gaz backs himself up into you. Giving you a chance to get out the door without being seen anymore by him. You’d have to thank him later. “It’s alright. She’s got some hard feelings.. I’ll make it up to her.” He smirks. “Fuck off.” Gaz growls. “You tied her up and threatened to kill her, I hope the next time she sees you she shoots you.” Soap rolls his eyes. Graves laughs on the other end.

———

You’re stood next to Gaz when Graves tries to shake his hand. Gaz doesn’t make a move and you have to stifle back a laugh. You can tell it eats Graves alive that none of you will be nice to him, but that’s not something that’s going to change. Not ever. His betrayal was unforgivable.

When Makarov got away, the task force stepped back. They had no intel, no leads. Nothing. Shadows were staying on the base with 141 and you had live alongside them until they went elsewhere. So you kept to yourselves mostly. You did your very best to avoid Graves. Until you couldn’t. You were on watch, but your partner had changed. You had no idea who was waiting up there for you. Who you’d be on watch with for the next couple of hours. You expected maybe Captain Price or another shadow. But you didn’t expect him to be waiting there for you.

His smirk was knowing, he’d purposely put himself as your partner on watch from here on out and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Why couldn’t he have been a good guy? Someone you could trust?

He stands up from his chair. His smile beaming as he made his way toward you. “Y/N.. how you been honey?” He smiles. By the time he comes to a halt there’s barely a foot of space between the both of you. Which gives you the perfect distance for a right hook. He doesn’t expect it, not from you. You’re sweet and kind.

He stumbled back, recovering from the hit. His eyes are wide when he looks up at you. Wiping his now bloodied lip.

He laughs. In complete disbelief.

“My name is Y/N. That’s how you’ll address me. If you don’t want to sit on watch alone for the next couple weeks, you’ll shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” Your demeanor is strong. Your chest is puffed up and you’re standing your ground. Something he didn’t expect from you. You pass by him, going to sit down. “Oh come on, you’re not still mad are you?” You freeze up. Swallowing hard. “You tied me up, held a gun to my head, and than went after my task force. I’m fucking furious that you’re still standing on two feet.” The venom in your voice stings him a bit. How you could hate him so bad.

He knows he deserves it.

“What’s it gonna take huh? To prove myself to you?” He breathes. “You’re a fucking dog, a filthy traitor. You’re never going to be anything more than the dirt on my shoes.” You make your way for the door. “You and I? Will never be friends. Not ever. As far as I’m concerned, you’d have been better off if you pulled the fucking trigger.” You seethe as you slam the door shut, going down the stairs of the watch tower and leaving him up there alone. You knew you’d have to come back tomorrow, but for now, you needed to get away from him.

You think about him a lot. You always have.

You think about how flirty he was when you first met him. How he’d make you blush. He’d wink at you in passing and your stomach would fill with butterflies. You always thought it was a stupid crush but your virginity is what kept you away. You were scared to lose it, and avoided the topic at all costs.

Seeing him now makes you realize it was more than just a crush. You had real feelings for him deep down and his betrayal cut deep and hurt worse than anything you’d ever been through. If he liked you like he said he did, why was hurting you so easy? If you like someone, how could you? You lost sleep over it, and the time you thought he was dead, you dreamt of him. You would dream about how it was all a mistake, that it wasn’t real. How he’d come running to your aid and hold you close to him. Reassuring you it was all fake.

And than you’d wake up. And he’d be dead again.

He was a lot easier to get over when he was dead. It was easier to cope with because of his betrayal. You shouldn’t care that he was dead because of what he’d done and that’s how you got through the grieving process. But now, you didn’t know how to feel. He was alive but it seemed harder to cope with.

The next day on watch, you were up there first. He came inside but didn’t say anything to you. Thank god.

He leaves you alone for the most part. Only asking certain questions about how the base worked. You were short with him.

It went that way for weeks. You kept to yourself and so did he.

It was him who finally broke the silence.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you, you know.”

You turn to look at him, eyes darkening. For a second he thinks he made a mistake. But he doesn’t stop. “I.. I was just trying to scare you. So that you wouldn’t run away.” He swallows down a lump forming in his throat. “I knew you’d be pissed. Of course I did. But.. I thought maybe if I kept you close to me for long enough, you’d understand.”

He sighs. “I was delusional. I was terrified.” He looks down at his hands. “I acted purely out of fear, Shepherd told me about the consequences of what could happen if those found out about what had happened despite me not knowing. I was desperate to cover it up. He told me to kill you but I couldn’t. That’s why I kept you tied up. I didn’t want to.”

“He used me and threatened me. He blackmailed me because he made me apart of it. And Y/N.” He breathes. Looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for the hurt that I’ve caused you. It was never my intention, I tried to avoid it.”

You look down. It’s silent and he’s clearly waiting for you to say something. “What’s done is done.” You breathe. “Maybe you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. And maybe when you’re dead I’ll forgive you.”

And just like that, you’re gone again.

———

For the next week or so, he decides to get close to Gaz.

He offers to help him any chance he gets and Gaz always says no. But Graves jumps in to help anyways. It drives Gaz crazy at first, until he gets used to it.

Gaz is helping work on a Humvee and Graves is passing him tools, offering to be a runner if he needed anything. “This is about Y/N isn’t it?” Gaz asks out of the blue one day. “What?”

“You’re only being friendly to me because of her, right?”

Graves sighs. “Gaz. I’m trying to make it up to you guys. I know it’ll take forever, but I’m trying.” He mumbles. “What I did was fucked up and if the shoes were on the other feet I’d have put a bullet in my head already and I’m thankful you haven’t because I know you want to.”

“She liked you.”

Graves freezes up. “What?”

“She did. She had feelings for you. She buried them deep afterward but she did. Had nightmares about you for fucking months after you died.” Gaz mumbles. “I… didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Of course you didn’t, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” Gaz wants to ring graves neck for hurting you. You’re like his little sister and seeing you be in love with someone who’s so selfish eats him alive. “I’m trying here. Okay?”

“You scared her.” Gaz slides out from under the Humvee. It’s where he’d been working. He picks up a towel and wipes his hands off. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when you betrayed her. When you betrayed all of us. She kept a fake face on, made us all think she was okay when she cried herself to sleep for days afterward. She’d never been so scared, she didn’t know who to trust or what to do. Captain Price had to send her off on leave for a couple weeks so that she could recover. She tried so hard to hide how she felt. Seeing you probably eats her alive, and having to work alongside with you I’m sure has ruined any kind of healing she’s done.” Gaz shakes his head. “And what the fuck she ever saw in you…” he scoffs. Throwing the towel down. “She’d be better off if you had died in that tank.”

He walks away, leaving Graves standing there alone, again.

He hated how bad this task force hated him, but he understood.

Soap is who he approached next, trying to keep him company. But Soap barely showed him the time of day and when he did it was the bare minimum. Soap hated Graves. With a burning passion. But that didn’t mean he stopped. Soap did all kinds of chores all over base, so Graves started helping.

He worked alongside Gaz, doing grunt work in the shop where Gaz tried to learn everything he could about the Humvee’s. He helped Soap with chores around the base, every single day. When he wasn’t busy that’s what he was doing.

For two hours a day, he was sitting up on watch with you. He never said a word, only did what he was supposed to.

When it came to missions, he let Captain Price control everything. He told the Shadows to follow his orders and do what they’re told and Graves did too. He kept his mouth shut and did exactly what they wanted.

On these missions, Graves watches Ghost like a hawk. Making sure he was safe, taking down a couple men that sneak up behind Ghost along the way. Graves knows to keep his distance and try to make amends by staying away, Ghost is too dangerous.

At the end of the day, if Graves dies on a mission, not a single person is going to care. He did something unforgivable, something he can’t come back from. If one of them decides they’ve had enough of him one day and kills him, they’ll cover it up and said he died in action. And that will be the end of Phillip Graves. It eats him alive day and night, but nothing compares to the way he’s hurt you. He thinks about back then, the way you’d smile and blush in his presence, roll your eyes at his flirting. Now, you were cold. Falling in love with him, or catching feelings. He doesn’t know which.

Having feelings for him destroyed you. Turned you into a cold hearted person. Who killed and served like there was nothing to it. All of the life you’d once been full of was drained because of him. Because he was supposed to protect you, but he was the one on the other side of the gun to your head. He stabbed you in back and you trusted him so much.

“What do you want from me Graves?” Soap finally snaps one day. Graves is helping him clean up the mess hall. Soap is stacking the chairs up and graves is sweeping as he goes. “I don’t want anything from you.” He mumbles. “What? You’ve been following every single one of us around like a lost puppy doing anything and everything we say, if you think that’s how you’re going to win us over it’s not going to work.” He scoffs. Graves shakes his head. “That’s no my intentions, Soap.” He sighs. “Than what are you doing?”

“I just want to work alongside you guys without hating each other. I can’t take back what I did, but I can be better. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Soap rolls his eyes. “You betrayed us. We’re never going to like you. Not ever.”

“And that’s okay. But I’m going to do better and I’m not trying to prove that to you, I’m proving it to me.” Graves continues sweeping the floor. Leaving Soap with nothing else to say.

It goes on like this for months.

The task force worries of course, they don’t want to get comfortable with him because the last time they did that, he tried to kill all of them.

But they get used to it. To his help.

———

Graves follows after you. Hiding in the shadows. It’s late at night.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe he just isn’t thinking at all.

He knocks at your door quietly and you’re confused as you open it. But your heart rate picks up when you see who it is. What on earth is he doing at your door so late?

“Hey.” He breathes. He steps toward you and you hurriedly step back. “What do you want?” You say quickly. He raises his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to talk to you.” He breathes.

He can see your pupils are blown wide, you’re on edge. Had he really scared you that bad. He can see you clutching your sidearm. He sighs. “I swear I’m not going to do anything. You don’t have to be scared.” He breathes. “I’m not scared. The only thing between me and you is a bullet.” You breathe. “Just.. please. Talk to me?” He bites his lower lip, looking down at the ground. You sigh. “What do you want?”

He steps into your room, closing the door behind himself. “I just wanted to ask you..” he breathes. “Is it true you have feelings for me?”

“Had.” You finish.

“Okay.. so it’s true. You did have feelings for me.” He sighs. “Yeah. Until you betrayed us and put a gun to my head.”

He winces as the words leave your mouth. “I.. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just trying to scare you.”

He sits down on the edge of your bed, you’re standing in front of him, just a few feet away. “It worked.” Your eyes darken. You draw your gun from its holster, pointing it right at him. “Maybe it’s your turn.”

He closes his eyes as you move closer, pressing the barrel of your gun right to his forehead. He winces when you cock it.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

He reopens his eyes, seeing that your eyes have filled with tears. Your hands have begun to tremble. “You’re not sorry.”

“I am. I’ve never regretted anything more. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” He breathes.

Just as a tear slides down your cheek, you spin around to hide it. Wiping your cheek and shoving your gun back into its holster. “You need to go.”

“No.”

“Leave.”

“I’m not going. Not until you know how sorry I am.”

“Just go!” You wipe your eyes. You don’t want him to see you cry. “No.. not this time.” He breathes. He stands up, pulling you into him. You fight him until you’re sobbing so hard that you can’t contain it anymore and finally you relax back into him. He holds you against him while you cry. He pulls you back into the bed, your back against his chest as he holds you tight against him. You’re sitting in his lap but he’s got his arms wrapped around you. You’re still trying to fight him through sobs but you’re weak. He swallows hard, a lump growing in his throat.

Eyes fill his own tears. “I hate you.” You cry. “I hate you for what you did- I hate you for hurting me so bad.” You hiccup. “I hate you because I still care-“

You hang your head, trying your hardest to stop this panic attack.

He holds your arms to your side and keeps you there until your sobs quiet. Until you’re doing nothing but hiccuping. Thats when he finally stands up and sets you down. Kneeling in front of you. He takes your hands in his and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“You’ll never know how much I hate myself for what I did.” He swallows hard. You can see he’s got tear stains on his face. “You’ll never see how much it hurts me. Seeing you like this. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you so bad. And I swear to god on my life I’ll live the rest of it protecting you. You don’t have to believe me. But..” he grits his teeth. Trying to hold back his own emotions. “I care about you. And you don’t have to believe me. But I was never going to hurt you. I wanted you by my side. It’s why I kept you tied up. I want you, I’ve always wanted you to be with me. So.. forgive me, for what I’m about to do.”

You look confused, your heart has finally relaxed in your chest. “Wha-“

He stands up, pressing his lips to yours. You start to panic again, trying to push him away. But he forces himself on top of you. He forces you back onto the bed, using his weight to pin you underneath him.

He’d already taken his vest off. Leaving him in only a t-shirt and jeans. He reaches for his belt. Once you hear the rattle, your eyes widen and you try harder to push him away. “Wait- Graves wait!” You push him back. He only pins you down, pressing his lips to yours again.

He forces your pants down your legs, keeping his lips on yours.

You didn’t realize how strong he is. Because no matter what you do, you can’t get him off of you.

He grips the base of his cock, and just as he’s about to slide into you, you force your head to the side.

“Please! I’m a virgin!”

He freezes on top of you. You look up at him, and all he can see in your eyes is terror. He steps down onto the floor, quickly lifting his pants over himself. “W-what?”

You pull your legs up to yourself. Hugging them to your stomach. “I’m.. a virgin.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He back away further.

“Fuck.. fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking- I-“ he reaches quickly to buckle his belt, going for the door.

“Wait!” You stand up.

He freezes up, his hand on the door handle. “Don’t…” you freeze up. Unsure of what you’re about to do. What you’re about to let happen.

“Don’t go.”

He turns back to you, swallowing hard.

“You said… you won’t hurt me.” You breathe. “Y/N..” he trails off. Looking down at the ground. “I want you to do it.” You look up at him. His heart thumps in his chest and he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between you again. His lips are on yours before you have time to change your mind. He returns himself between your legs, exposing himself once more.

He presses the tip of his cock at your entrance. Looking down at you. He makes sure you’re wet enough, pressing himself inside of you. He tries to go slow but seeing you wince. He lowers himself into you. Covering your mouth and bracing himself before you have a chance to make any noise of protest. Thrusting himself inside of you. Your eyes widen and you cry into his hand but he shushes you, whispering into your ear to reassure you that it’ll only hurt for a minute.

And that fast, your virginity is gone. You’d given it to the person who hurt you the very most.

You look up at him. Eyes full of tears.

He finally moves his hand.

“Phillip.” You breathe. Hearing his full name come out of your mouth is foreign.

You wince as he slides out of you, thrusting back into you. “I trust you to take my virginity.” He clenches his eyes shut.

“But if you betray me again.” You whisper. “It will be me who kills you this time.” You look up at him.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, picking up his pace and thrusting deeper into you. Angling just right to hit that spot inside of you that has you crumbling. “You’re not going to have to do that. I can fix this.” He breathes. “I can’t take it back but I can be better. I swear.” He mumbles. Hips rocking lazily into yours. “I’ll show you.” He grits his teeth. The weight of him above you overwhelms you. You have to remind yourself why he’s there. Not to hurt you. But to make you feel good. You hold back all of the racing thoughts by focusing on the way he feels sliding into you. You can feel him pulsing against you, throbbing against your gummy walls. You swallow him up, clamping tight around him. It’s the most intense pleasure Phillip has ever felt. Ever.

The pleasure is white hot and it settles into your lower stomach, his too. Like an oncoming tidal wave. About to wash away all of the pain and hurt.

Each thrust he takes into you, you forget a little more. How could he make you feel so good but have hurt you so bad? Your lips part as he glides into your spongy spot, a gasp leaving your lips as your thighs start to shake beneath him. He knows he’s got you cornered. He’s going in for the kill.

You shake and whine. Mewling out his name and pleas. You’re panting out how good he feels inside of you and he’s so close to falling apart, he feels like he’s going to implode. He raises himself up, taking deeper thrusts into that spot that you like. He looks down at you. Seeing your lips slightly parted. Sweat forming at your hairline. It throws him into a daze. How pretty you are and how you’re letting him fuck you, you let him take your virginity and as far as he knows, you hate him. You wanted him dead. You take in a jagged breath, eyes going from his eyes to where the both of you now connect. Watching his cock slide in and out of you. He’s big. He stretches you out. It hurt at first but you’ve gotten used to it. You’re amazed by how fast the pain had subsided.

You claw at his back through his shirt, holding onto the fabric for dear life as he tears you to shreds.

“I’m… I- oh my god.” You inhale sharply. He clamps his hand over your mouth once more. Resting his weight on you and thrusting into you lazily. “It’s alright. Give yourself to me.” He mumbles. “Go on baby. Give it to me.”

Your eyes roll back before clamping shut. His eyes widen as you clench down around him. A gasp leaving his lips as you throb. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum too.” He breathes. He wraps his arm around you, holding you still and tight to him. You shake from your orgasm tearing through you. Your eyes open, going wide when he lets out a moan. You say something into his hand but he’s still got it over your mouth. His thrusts come to halt as he reaches his high and you gasp as he cums inside of you. When he finally draws his hand away from your mouth, you’re too shocked to even know what to say. He presses his lips to yours and this time, you kiss him back.

He slides out of you, hearing you gasp as he does.

He moves himself to lay beside you, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like this.” He breathes.

You choose to say nothing. Not at first. You let what just happened sink in. Your chest feeling heavy once more.

You’re an idiot for trusting him with your virginity.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “Stop overthinking. Just relax. No thoughts, it’s just you and me.” He forces you to look at him.

You nod your head.

———

A few months go by.

The task force hates to it admit it, but Graves is an important part to the team. He’s pretty much redeemed himself, but they try to keep their guard up anyways.

Soap and Graves are walking along the side of the building when they hear shoes scuffing across the floor.

“You know we all know about you and Y/N right?” Soap brings up out of the blue. Graves feels his blood going cold. “I didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Yeah. For a couple weeks now. Gaz wanted to ring your neck.” Soap laughs. “I’m the one who stopped him.” Soap sighs. “I hope you prove us all wrong. Because if you do anything to her..” he trails off. “You already know.”

“Yes I do.”

They hear the sound again but this time they decide to check it out. Surprised when they see a new recruit crowding you.

“Something going on here?” Soap mumbles.

“No. We’re fine.”

“No! I said to leave me alone!”

Graves is quick to intervene. “Woah- you heard the girl. Back off.” He gets between the both of you. “You touch her again and I’ll cut your hands off. Understand me?” He crosses his arms over his chest. Seeing the new recruit with fear in his eyes. “Come on. Taking you to Price’s office.” Soap scoffs. Grabbing a hold of his shirt and tugging him along. “You alright? He hurt you?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“Cmon, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

[nicksolemnlyswears]

You write Coryo sooo well. We saw Coryo with an innocent reader, but what would happen if the reader is as wicked as he is and they fight for control?

summary: coriolanus finds his match

pairing: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! scientist! reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, breast play (some slapping too), overstimulation (f and m receiving)(mostly coryo really), very little dacryphilia, p in v, unprotected sex (please don't do it like them), perv! coriolanus always, slight cum play, pain kink aka masochism also i think some sadism too, is that all? i think so, oh no wait, physical violence and borderline dub non-con. basically it’s angry sex

a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long! most of it was written a when the request was sent but i've just managed to come back and finish it. hope something like this was what you had in mind. i'll be working on the mentor pt. 2 this next week!

requests open ✨

You and Coriolanus are extremely competitive. It both scares and annoys the rest of the laboratory.

You and Snow share many similarities. Both need to be successful and get the things you want no matter the cost.

Being a year older than Snow, you were already working under Dr. Gaul at the university. Learning about his cheating ways made you lose any respect you could’ve had for him.

More so, you did not appreciate being pushed to the side as Dr. Gaul raved on and on about her new star pupil. The one that changed the game.

Whenever he walked into the room your face would fall into a scowl. You avoid him like the plague whenever Gaul doesn’t assign you to work with him.

The other student's whispers reached his ears about how your cold aura is because of him and his excellence. About how you think he’s better than you. Coriolanus took it in stride, he loved that he had that effect on people.

Being the top two students you're forced to work together constantly, which leads to learning about each other's ambition and story. Still, you don't hesitate to screw each other over to get the upper hand.

It’s the very own hunger games right in Dr. Gaul's lab and she knows it. She takes any opportunity to pin you against Coriolanus and get the best scientific outcomes. Gaul manipulates the situation, lying about what Coriolanus thinks about you and vice versa.

Dr. Gaul thrives from the tension that resides in the lab when you and Coriolanus are forced to work together. While you and Coriolanus break your backs and spirits she sits back to watch and see how far your minds will soar.

So much anger can only lead to two scenarios: violence or sex. Well... three if you mix violence and sex.

You want to get rid of Snow but Snow wants you by his side. You can't be a threat if he holds you close and predicts each one of your movements in his game of chess. He wonders what it would be like to have someone who would kill for him.

Coriolanus makes it one of his goals to seduce you and make you submit to him. He wants to make you another weapon in his arsenal. One that will kill for him when prompted to.

One late night, you work from his apartment, brainstorming ideas for the next Hunger Games. Usually, you would do this from the lab, but after one of the experiments escaped, the lab had to be fumigated and cleaned.

You pace the living room to calm your anger. You're pissed off at the blonde man that sits on the sofa. His legs spread wide as his head leans back on the backrest.

For hours, all he's done is undermine you and shoot down all your ideas, calling them stupid and unnecessary. Tempting you to wrap your hands around his pale neck. To feel his adam’s apple bob under your strangulating touch.

He knows you're angry. It's exactly what he wanted. If he pushes your buttons long enough you'll lose your resolve and it'll be his moment to strike.

"You're joking, right? We bring your idea to Dr. Gaul and she'll laugh in our face. I didn't take you for a clown," Coriolanus taunts, standing from his couch to stretch his stiff muscles.

Whipping around you stalk towards his tall figure, pushing his chest angrily. Coriolanus pushes his tongue agains the inside of his cheek to control his temper.

It's a stupid thing that wouldn't get arise out of you any other day, but you've had enough of Coriolanus inability to listen and accept that other's ideas are better than his. "You're such a piece of shit, Snow. Clearly you don't fucking need me since your ideas are so brilliant. Fucking insufferable know it-" you exclaim, continuing to push him back.

Coriolanus strikes like a scorpion would, fast and precise. His peacekeeper training kicks in as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand while the other comes up behind your neck. His lips smash against yours roughly, forcing you into a heated kiss.

You're frozen in your spot, arms going limp from shock. You don't have time to process Coriolanus actions as he pulls away from you. He waits for your reaction tentatively. This will either go terribly wrong or brilliantly well.

You stare at him with burning cheeks, anger seeping into your bones. How dare he kiss you when you're trying to make a point. Your anger is not something to take lightly.

Ripping your hands away from his loose hold, you bring one up to slap against his cheek.

Smack!

The silence is deafening. Coriolanus now sports a cheek as red as yours. Your chest heaves in anger, eyebrows furrowed and calculating eyes.

He holds his stinging cheek with his hand as his face morphs back into anger. Coriolanus never expected his goal to be easy, but he won't bury his enraged feelings for you.

His mouth opens to shout at you to leave yet you surprise him, pulling him by his shirt to deposit a kiss on his lips. Reacting quickly he grabs your hips, so you're flush against him.

It's your choice to kiss him not his. You'll be damned the day you take Coriolanus' lead.

Coriolanus' body is burning hot. Flames of anger and frustration licking at him the more deeply you kiss him. You try pushing your wet tongue into his mouth but are met with resistance, biting his lower lip harshly lets you slip it in but not without effort as his tongue wrestles yours for dominance.

Things continue to escalate quickly as Coriolanus pushes you down the hallway to his bedroom. It's not a question whether this is happening or not. You've held back too long to stop now.

Wandering hands touch any body part they can reach. His fingers tangle in your hair, hand finding your front to squeeze at your tits. You moan into his mouth, giving him the pleasure to lick at your mouth.

Coriolanus slams you against his bedroom door when it closes, letting some steam off. You frustrate him like no one ever has, he's resorted to imagining you in lewd and degrading situations before he does something he regrets.

In that same vein, you rip open his shirt. The buttons fly everywhere, annoying Coriolanus even if he now owns more shirts that he needs. Your nails drag down his chest, causing thin red lines to decorate his pale chest. The palm of your hand presses on the tent of his slacks, feeling how hard he's become for you.

You chuckle into the kiss in a teasing manner. Typical man aroused by the smallest bit of attention. Coriolanus shuts you up, grabbing your ass and pressing you into his erection.

Anger mixes with arousal as you and Coriolanus bully each other to submit. It's not sweet and delicate. It's animalistic and boderline painful.

The kiss is sloppy, a mix of teeth and tongue as Coriolanus sits on his bed and you climb over him, straddling his lap. It's rushed, giving the illusion you're afraid of being caught fucking the person you hate most.

There is no time to get naked. With his shirt ripped open, he unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his neatly ironed pants. You barely lift your skirt, pushing your panties to the side.

His neck tilts back as you leave bruises behind, teasing his pulse point with your tongue. With a tight grip on the outside of your thigh Coriolanus get his cock wet with the juices that drip from your cunt. You'd just made fun of him for being aroused when you're in the same condition if not worse.

Your hips stutter at the sensation of the blunt head of his cock, prodding your entrance. He wants you to say it, 'Fuck me, Coryo.' You'd rather be dead first.

You force yourself down Coriolanus cock instead to stop the teasing. “Ahh,” you moan in unison. Stilling for the first time since he kissed you.

He feels your breath hitch on his neck when you take the last inch of him. Such a slut taking all of him in one go.

“Coriolanus,” you groan as he forces you to bounce on top of him. You hate to admit how long and thick he is. It makes your eyes roll to the back of your head each time it drags on your walls.

You hold onto dear life. Arms around his shoulders and head nestled on his neck. Coriolanus' fists your skirt, guiding your movements on his cock.

“It’s Coryo,” he groans. Hearing you say his nickname will be the biggest form of submission. It means you've given yourself to him.

“Coriolanus,” you repeat intentionally, pulling away from his neck to look into his angry eyes. With your fingers on the side of his neck and your thumb tilting his head up you force him to look at you head on.

“Insufferable girl. Must you always fight me on everything,” he seethes, grasping your hips to slam down on his. You make his blood boil.

You wince when the rounded head of his cock hits your cervix, red fingernails digging onto his shoulder. “Yes, I’ve been working too hard to let you get away with everything.”

Coriolanus is determined to set the pace, pushing into you and using your hips as a handle to pull you up and down. You're bound to have bruises in the morning.

It's uncomfortable the way your skin becomes clammy with exertion. Leaves you no choice but to unbutton your white school shirt, giving Coriolanus a glimpse of your lace bra that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Your nipples poke through the sheer material, teasing Coriolanus as they beg to be set free. They temp him with every rise and fall of your chest, a sheen of sweat decorating your skin like glitter.

It drives him nuts to know you're wearing the provocative garment under your shirt everyday in the lab. Hidden from him like treasure. Were you hoping he'd see you like this or do you like fucking around with any other student in the lab?

His thoughts anger him further, ducking his head he catches your nipple through the flimsy material. His teeth nip at your stiff peak, earning a seductive whine from you as his hold slips due to the slippery material.

Unconsciously you give in to the instruction of the blonde man, bouncing your hips to his rhythm. Too busy relishing on the pleasurable pain on your chest.

He leaves wet kisses on the swells of your breast, sucking bruises into them. If you were to be fucking any other man they'd know he was here.

His licking up your neck make you clench around him. His hips stutter and you grin, repeating the motion repeatedly. You have to make him cum first to prove he is a disappointment. Like all your other loser boyfriends that never made you cum.

He spanks the globe of your ass harshly, making you jump from the sting and suppress a whine. He's catching onto what you're doing and he's going to prove you wrong.

Biting the spot between your neck and shoulder, he increases the pace he's set. He's confident his self control is better than yours and he's going to make you cum around his cock.

“If you were smart enough we could help each other,” Coriolanus speaks between groans. One of his hands splayed on your back coming up to undo the clasp of your bra.

“I’m smart enough to know you’ll take over completely and I don’t share,” you pant with hooded eyes, letting the flimsy undergarment fall off your arms as you wrap your arms around his neck.

With your tits bouncing freely in front of his face he takes one into his mouth. Sucking the plump flesh and teasing your nipple with his tongue.

You pull him further towards you, your hand on the back of his blonde head, grinding down on his cock. Fuck, he's making you see starts, you can't remember a time you've been fucked this good.

With your head tilted back, moans slip past your lips, letting Coriolanus know you're losing yourself. Taking the opportunity, he flips you over and slams you on the bed. With your legs spread around him he can take a good long look at your cunt.

You're a mess. Wrinkly skirt, flipped up onto your stomach, cunt flushed and smeared with a cream he wants to taste. Your panties pushed to the side but soaked with your arousal.

He pinches your cunt with two fingers, seeing your lips press on your swollen clit and creamy white slick drip down your slit. A cynical grin on his lips.

"Never seen a real pussy before, Coriolanus?" you taunt, meeting his gaze.

"Next time it'll be your mouth I'm fucking. See if that will keep you quiet," he threatens, pushing his cock back into your weeping cunt. He bottoms out in one swift movement, a breathy moan in the back of his throat.

"Oh my god," you cry out, fisting the sheets. Without the burning of your thighs you can fully concentrate on the way his cock abuses your hole. You're done for.

"Not god, just me," Coriolanus mocks, thumbing your clit.

You close your eyes, memorizing how he drags slowly out of you before snapping his hips back into you. His hand on your waist, preventing you from sliding up on the bed with each one of his bruising thrusts.

Coriolanus is awfully quiet as he admires the creamy white ring that forms at the base of his cock each time he pushes into your puffy cunt.

If only your mouth was as sweet. He's determined on getting your lips and warm tongue around his cock. Once he makes sure you won't bite.

Not one to make things easy for him you repeat his name over and over again. "Coriolanus, Coriolanus, Coriolanus." Your taunting spurs him on, gives him an end goal as he fucks wildly into you.

The sound of skin slapping and your wet pussy squelching are deafeningly loud. For extra measure, Coriolanus paws your tits, the fatty flesh bulging between his fingers. Letting go he delivers a swift slap to the skin. Red flares up and your pretty cunt squeezes him until he can barely move.

You've gone quiet, face morphed into one of pure pleasure. You're as sadistic as he is. Pain gets you off. He should've known. Great minds think alike.

“Now you're quiet. Huh? I would've done this a lot earlier had I known my cock was the answer," he huffs, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

His pace is relentless, bullying the spongy spot inside of you. You're not sure how much more of this you can take. With each thrust his pelvis slams against your clit. His thumb inadvertently rubs circles on your hip.

“You’re just a perv that needs his dick wet,” you barely manage to say between moans. Your hands have released the tight hold on the sheets, coming up to hold Coriolanus' sides.

“And you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you?” His gravely voice asks in your ear, licking the shell of your ear.

Your silence produces a dark chuckle. You know you're going to cum any time now, staying silent is not an option. “Only when it’s convenient for me,” you lilt. You keep challenging him, pushing your luck.

Coriolanus meets your fucked out gaze. His blonde hair falls and sticks to his forehead in a way that makes you hate him even more. If he was unattractive it would be so much easier.

Sneaking his hand between your sweaty bodies he thumbs your sensitive clit. “Co-Corio-” You can't pronounce his stupidly long name as he furiously abuses your clit and bullies your walls.

“That’s more like it,” he grins maliciously.

Your peak approaches with an intensity you can't handle. Coriolanus overstimulates you as your cunt clenches around him, forcing his cock to remain still inside of you. Your whole body shakes with each wave, your legs trapping him on top of you as he takes in the throes of your orgasm.

Your eyes scrunch close and your mouth opens in a silent plead. Coriolanus is hyperaware of the tear that slides down from your wet eyelashes. He cleans it off with his thumb, tasting it as his tongue wraps around the pad of his finger.

Sweet taste of victory.

Slipping his cock out of your pulsing walls Coriolanus drops on the bed beside you, catching his breath. His cock is achingly hard, covered in your slick cum. The tip flushed red and leaking pre. He had his victory doesn't matter if he got to cum or not.

You're no quitter though. You might not be able to walk tomorrow but you have to prove a point. You're not getting pushed around by the man that is Coriolanus Snow.

Ignoring the post orgasmic twitching of your cunt you straddle Coriolanus, pushing his chest down when he tries to sit up.

"What're you doing?" He asks alarmed, holding your waist to stabilize you from your shaky legs.

"You didn't get to cum, Coriolanus," you shrug cheekily, grabbing his aching cock and lining it up with your entrance. You suck in a breath as you slide down it's length one more time.

"Fuck," he curses, throwing his head back on the mattress. This isn't an act of service. This is torture.

Your fluttering walls milk him for all that he is worth. Your hips grind down on him, his pelvic bone and thighs getting soaked. The slick noise coming from your pussy and his cock is obscene. Erotic in its own right.

He tries pushing away but you put your weight down onto his hands, giving the illusion you've immobilized him. Coriolanus could've escaped any moment, but the ache in his balls stopped him. He's thinking with his dick.

His heavy balls are tightening despite how much he's holding back and thinking of anything other than the woman on top of him. His body tells him to give in and to fill you up with his cum, like it's supposed to be.

“Gonna cum, Coriolanus?” You ask, scratching down his taut abdomen. “Who’s quiet now?” You chuckle, throwing your head back as you ride him.

The only control he has in his possession resides in closing his eyes to shut out the pornographic view of you on top of him. Tits bouncing, pussy sucking him up, pretty face with a mean smirk.

Knowing all he needs is a push you lean down to give him a couple of encouraging words, "You feels so good, Coryo."

You swear you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Grabbing his hand you bring it up to your chest, placing it on your breast. "So big and thick. I've never had anyone this big stretching me out. I want your cum in me, Coryo. You won. You deserve it."

A gravely moan rises from his throat, thrusting into you he shoots his cum deep into your cunt. His blue eyes open and all they find is your wicked grin.

"Fuck, wait," he pleads when you continue to grind on his dick, keeping his cum in you, forcing it deeper inside.

After the torture you put him through, his cock head is too sensitive, almost painful. You're determined to get another orgasm out of him though.

“Want me to stop?” You ask in faux concern, continuously gyrating your hips, causing more friction against your walls and his tip. “Just ask.”

Coriolanus glares at you. You're getting off from his pain. If look could kill you'd be 6ft underground by now. All of your encouraging words from before a lie to get him like this. He might've won the battle, but you'll win the war.

His jaw is tense as he hold back whines, shuddering when you clench around him. Teasingly you slide up his shaft until the tip in the only part inside before you push back down.

Coriolanus' grip on you is bruisingly tight but not enough for you to stop using him as your toy. Your orgasm builds the more he holds onto you. He spanks the outside of your thighs, but this isn't a game. Three taps will not get you out.

Leaning into him you press your lips against his. Burying his hands on you hair he kisses you back harshly, holding you to him and biting your lip when you try to pull away.

The sting of his teeth digging onto your lip and the taste of your blood throws you over the edge. "Fuck," you squeal against his lips as the waves crash against you.

The whine of your name that comes out of Coriolanus' lips is something you want to remember forever. The clenching and unclenching of your orgasm triggers him to bust, your pussy essentially milking him of every drop of cum as he paints your walls white.

Lightly but firmly he pushes you off of him afraid you'll pull another stunt like that. You fall of the bed beside him, his cum trickling out of your pink center down onto the sheets. You push it out of you, enjoying the sensation of it trickling down your entrance.

For a moment you're clearheaded and don't hate Coriolanus. The raging dumspter fire in your chest extinguished, leaving smoke and weak flickers of fire behind that can be reignited at any given moment.

“We can add your suggestion to the presentation. Putting trackers on them is a good idea,” Coriolanus mutters next to you, looking strictly at the ceiling.

You giggle and shake your head, “And all it took was to fuck you. You're like all other men aren't you?" Your words are accusatory but your tone says otherwise and Coriolanus allows himself to crack a smile.

“Is it so difficult for you to say thank you?" He asks turning his head to look at you.

"To you? A little," you say scrunching your nose and laughing once more.

Coriolanus enjoys your laugh but loves your drive and determination even more.

A toxic relationship sprouts from this moment. You’re tools to help each other succeed in your endeavors. Love takes a while to develop but once it does no one can tear you apart…except for each other.

“You two are getting along today,” Dr. Gaul hums as she walks along the lab. She's missed any argument and jeer that might materialize between you and Coriolanus.

You take the lead to respond to her observation, “We’ve come to an understanding. Coryo-Coriolanus and I. All this bickering can’t be good for the work environment. It's highly unprofessional."

Coriolanus' lips quirk into a half smile as his nickname escapes from your lips. Progress is being made.

Dr. Gaul is blissfully unaware that just five minutes ago you were in the bathroom, getting your ass spanked bright red by Coriolanus because you wouldn't listen to him. After, he fucked you over the sink with a hand clasped over your mouth to keep your smartass comments from coming out.

"Hm," is all Dr. Gaul says, hoping this new arrangement doesn't take away from your performances.

You shift uncomfortably in your station, focusing back on the screen but unable to ignore Coriolanus' seed pooling in your panties.

*peaks head around corner* heeeyyy hey, sorry i disappeared for a while. i had a very interesting december and january has been just as busy

*nervous glance* what did you think of this pairing? very different from the other more innocent reader. i quite like her she's feisty. i'm sorry to the person who requested this if its not what you expected. did you want more plot? i can do that too if you want.

well, bye *waves*

the mentor pt 2 coming soon^^

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k words

warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and steve get drunk lolz), random guy at a bar being an asshole

summary: in which it's a halloween night full of partying, fun, and maybe one too many drinks

author's note: ohohoh this was so fun to write !! happy (almost) halloween<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have laughed.

Because doing so did not help in convincing Steve that the costume he was wearing did not look ridiculous, and instead your laugh only made him frown at you.

“I’m not wearing this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just a bit surprised to see how you looked.”

You didn’t expect the Robin costume you got for Steve to shock you as much as it did, and it was mainly because of the green pants he had on; because perhaps they were a bit too green. It confused you a bit because the pants hadn’t looked that overbearing and bright when you bought them from the costume shop— but, granted, it had still been in the bag with the rest of the clothing items for the costume, so you didn’t get to see too much of the pants. And with the red shirt he had on that had the signature “R” logo in the corner of it, for a split second, Steve looked more like Christmas personified than Robin, and that was what made you laugh. It wasn’t even a full laugh, it was more like a breath of a laugh. 

“Why can’t I be Batman and you be Robin?”

“Because that’s not an accurate representation of us,” You answered him immediately. “I’m clearly the Batman in this friendship. And I’m older.”

He rolled his eyes at you and you knew exactly what that eye roll said— “You’re only two fucking months older than me.”

“Why can’t Robin be Robin?” He asked. 

“You already know the answer to that. She and Vickie are doing some vampire couples costume thing.”

Robin being a part of the costume had been the initial plan— Steve would’ve been Batman, Robin would’ve been Robin, and you would’ve been Catwoman. But, when Robin bailed so that she could do the couple’s costume with Vickie, you refused to be Catwoman anymore because you didn’t want to spend the night constantly telling people that you and Steve weren’t dating and just decided to do a duo costume that looked way too obviously as a couple’s costume for “fun.”

“And we can’t even change the costumes now because we have to be at The Hideout in an hour,” You reminded him. They were having a Halloween party there and Eddie’s band would be playing at some point during the night, they were all going dressed as zombies, and a handful of other bands were going to be playing too. “You should’ve tried this on yesterday when I bought it.”

Steve only rolled his eyes at you again even though he knew you were right. You hopped off the kitchen counter and followed him as he walked back into his room. You sat down on the side of his bed and he went into his bathroom, looking in the mirror and running a hand through his hair. 

“Robin’s the cuter one of the duo, anyway,” You told him. “Girls will love it.” 

Steve still didn’t say anything yet, so you took that as your cue to keep going. “You should change the pants. These ones are way too bright and they kinda hurt my eyes. Maybe put on those darker green ones you have. People will still easily understand the costume, so it’ll be okay. And the rest of the costume is perfectly fine. Also, when you put the yellow cape on it’ll tie everything together.”

He still stayed quiet so you got up and walked over to where he stood still looking at himself in the mirror, and you poked his arm. “Can you please say something so I can stop giving you an ego boost by rambling about how good you’ll look tonight?”

Steve laughed a bit. “No, you should keep going.”

That time you rolled your eyes at him. “Ha ha. Fuck you.” You walked out of the bathroom and started heading to the bedroom door. “Anyway, I’m gonna put my costume on and then we should take a few shots before Vickie and Robin come get us.” 

“I thought we were gonna keep things mostly PG tonight?” Steve asked as he began rummaging through his closet for the pants you mentioned. “Because of what happened two nights ago.” 

Somehow you simultaneously winced and laughed at the mention of that Wednesday night. Where you and Steve sat in the living room drinking and watching random bad movies he brought home from Family Video; the alcohol actually managed to make the movies somewhat bearable to watch. It was an impulsive decision that left you both with horrific hangovers in the morning as you forced yourself to go to class and Steve begrudgingly went to his twelve o’clock shift.  

“Okay, I know that we’ve still only barely recovered from that night, but you don’t have to work tomorrow, and I’m not gonna have any school shit to worry about, so tonight we can just have fun without any of the consequences of what happened last time.” You turned around and smiled at him. “The type of fun that involves a lot of alcohol. And it’s Halloween so I feel like it’s bad luck if we don’t partake in underage drinking.”

“Very solid points.” 

“I’m gonna pretend that you weren’t being sarcastic right then and instead just believe that you actually do agree with me,” You said before finally leaving his room and walking toward yours. 

Your costume was already lying on your bed— a black cropped shirt with the signature Batman emblem on it, a black cape, and black jeans that were probably the tightest pair of pants you now owned but they made your butt look great so you overall counted them as a win. Getting dressed took no longer than five minutes, but then you spent an extra five minutes rummaging through your closet to find your black hightop Converses until you remembered that they were probably buried in the heap of shoes that always sat by the front door. You knew that wearing anything other than sneakers would’ve probably been better for the look of the costume, but last year you made the mistake of wearing heeled boots with your pirate costume, and although they did make the outfit look great, your feet were absolutely dead in the morning and you never wanted to experience that pain again. Therefore, tonight, sneakers would be the way to go.

You noticed Steve in the kitchen— with his pants changed and the rest of the costume on— when you left your bedroom and started heading toward the shoe pile by the front door. You reached into the pile, pushing aside a pair of his Nikes and then grabbing your Converses. 

Steve opened up one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out the bottle of tequila. You stopped tying your shoes for a second and looked up at him, immediately noticing how the bottle was close to empty. 

“Jesus, I didn’t think that we devoured so much of it the other night,” You said as Steve opened up a different cabinet to grab two mugs to use as makeshift shot glasses. 

“I vaguely remember us saying that if we drank more, the bad movies we were watching would start to actually make sense,” He said with a laugh as he started pouring. You couldn’t help but laugh with him because that sounded exactly like the type of drunken logic the two of you would have. “Also, I really wish Robin hadn’t bailed on the group costume because you look much cooler than me right now.” 

You only laughed more at his words as you went to grab two sodas from the fridge. “Next year, you can take full reign over our costume decision and I’ll go along with whatever you want.”

He smiled at you. “I will fully hold you to that.” 

“I’m already scared for whatever you end up deciding,” You said as you picked up one of the mugs and then Steve grabbed the other. “But, anyway, cheers.” 

“Cheers.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn’t remember exactly where Steve or Robin or Vickie were, but with your slight inebriation that realization didn’t worry you that much.

You had tasked yourself with grabbing more drinks for yourself and Steve from the crowded bar, but before you could even walk up to the counter, a guy dressed as a cowboy stopped you and decided to start a conversation. 

It was pretty dark and the music was loud, so you could barely make out what he was saying after he said his initial “hello,” but with the way he was smiling at you it was fairly easy to tell that he was flirting. And even though you were tipsy and he was a little bit cute, you weren’t in the mood to reciprocate. 

“I should go,” You interrupted him for the first time in the past five minutes. You attempted to make your voice sound as nice as possible because it was easier to say that excuse instead of the entire truth, which was that you simply didn’t want to talk to him. “I gotta get back to my friends.” 

Either the guy didn’t hear what you said or he decided to completely disregard it all because he said, “I’ll buy you a drink.” 

“No, thanks,” You told him, making sure your voice was loud enough so that he could clearly hear your answer.   

“Come on, let me be the Robin to your Batman, or better yet you be the Robin to my Batman,” He said and before you could scoff and roll your eyes and simply walk away, he reached out to firmly grab your waist. 

You immediately pulled away from him and were about to say something along the lines of “Fuck you,” but you were interrupted by arms circling around you from behind; it was a touch that felt so familiar that you instinctually leaned into it. 

“She already has a Robin to her Batman so fuck off,” Steve said and you had to try your hardest not to laugh at his words. It was always in moments like these, where guys were being dicks and didn’t take no for an answer, that you’d happily play the fake dating card with Steve. 

When the guy walked away, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t make out, you turned to face your friend and leaned in close to him so that he could hear you over the music. “Thank God for you, Steve Harrington.”

His mouth was close to your ear. “I knew that I shouldn’t have let you go alone to get the drinks.” 

“You were chatting up that girl dressed as Tinker Bell, so I thought I’d be a good wingwoman and walk away.”  

“She left with her friends.”

From the sound of his voice, it was hard to tell if he was sad about it or didn’t really care. “As your wingwoman, should I help you go after her?”  

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay, she was a little boring.” 

“Got it,” You responded with a quick nod. “Can we get a drink now? Talking to that asshole sobered me up too much.”

Steve glanced at the bar. “Eddie’s supposed to be on in five minutes and the bar looks even more crowded than it was ten minutes ago.”

It was your turn to look in that direction and you immediately knew that with the amount of people surrounding the counter, you and Steve would be waiting there for much longer than just a few minutes. 

“Fuck,” You mumbled and then looked back at Steve. “Okay, let’s go back to Robin and Vickie. Aside from helping to get that random guy away from me, I’m even more glad you’re here right now because I fully don’t remember where we were standing.”

“I had a feeling that would happen too,” He said with a small laugh before slipping his hand into yours and leading you toward your other two friends. 

There was no way you would’ve been able to find the semi-secluded corner near the stage that Robin and Vickie were standing by if it weren’t for Steve, and you made a mental note to not leave his side for the rest of the time all of you were at The Hideout. 

“Woah, no drinks?” Robin said when she noticed you two. She and Vickie were holding hands and once again seeing them in their matching vampire costumes made your heart squeeze at how adorable they were. “Are you two actually gonna be sober like us for the night?”

“I’m sorry, but that won’t be happening. But, I do promise that I’ll be the best and most functional drunk person ever so you don’t get super annoyed with me,” You said, smiling at her, and when Steve laughed at your words, you playfully elbowed him. 

“I love you, truly, but I kinda doubt that will happen,” Robin responded but still smiled back at you. “Oh, also, like five minutes ago, Vickie ran into this girl she knows and she told us about this party happening two towns over. We should go to it after Eddie’s set.”

“I don’t know the guy throwing it, but apparently, his house is huge,” Vickie chimed in and you nodded.

That was probably one of your favorite parts about this stupid little holiday; how quickly plans could change or be adjusted, and most of the time it would lead to you having more fun than you had initially anticipated. And plus you’d rather have free drinks at the house of this random guy than buy more at this bar or any other one.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The time was inching closer and closer to midnight and the party seemed as if it was at its absolute peak. So much so that Vickie had to park on a completely different block because of how crowded with cars the actual street was. 

Steve was carrying you on his back as you all walked to the house; he had been reluctant at first but ultimately couldn’t say no to your persistent “pleases.”

“This reminds me of last Halloween when your feet were hurting because of your shoes, so I also gave you a piggyback ride then,” He said and then glanced down. “This time you’re wearing sneakers, though, so this feels a little unnecessary.”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see you. “This is always necessary, Steven.” 

Robin and Vickie were a few feet behind you two, hands intertwined as they went into a conversation that went unheard by you and Seve because you were laughing at him saying that him carrying you right then proved why he should’ve been Batman tonight.  

“And they’ve never dated before?” Vickie asked and Robin immediately shook her head. 

“No, it’s never happened. It’s weird. They’re weird,” She answered as she continued looking at you and Steve. Sometimes she felt as if the idea of you two dating was something that she could see as clear as day— it did seem like it would just make so much sense. But nothing ever happened, and at this point of knowing the two of you, she honestly didn’t think it ever would. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.”

Vickie laughed a bit at her girlfriend’s words. “Aw, well, I think they’d be cute.”

It was only thirty minutes into the four of you being at the party and you could finally say that you were no longer just tipsy. You’d probably end up regretting this in the morning because of the hangover that was imminent, but right then, you were glad you were drunk because it finally made your pants feel completely bearable. And Steve was as intoxicated as you were, maybe even more so because it somehow took little to no convincing to get him to play dumb games with you. 

It started out as truth or dare, but then one of the dares was to do a round of hide and seek, and then you decided to do more rounds of it because since both of you were drunk, it made the childish game even more fun to play. And since you were in a place that you two were completely unfamiliar with, it also made it funnier to play.

You weren’t sure whose turn it had been— who was the hider and who was the seeker— but you and Steve somehow ended up outside in the backyard, lying side by side on the grass and staring up at the sky. And you were laughing at a joke that you now couldn’t remember if it had been you or Steve who told it— you honestly couldn’t even recall the joke itself, but you just knew it had been funny. 

You shifted and turned on your side to face Steve and after a moment he did the same. 

“Thank you. For always being there for me,” You told him and then lifted your head so that you could kiss him on the cheek. “You’re quite literally the best person in my life.”

He shook his head at you, a small smile gracing his lips. “You always get so sentimental when you’re drunk.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “It’s the only time I let myself get super cheesy with you, Stevie.” Your drunkest of moments were also usually the only times when that nickname would come out. “But, I do hope you know that even though I don’t say it all the time, I always do feel this way. I always think about how insanely fucking glad I am to have you in my life.” 

“Don’t worry, I know.” He nodded at you and then smiled wider. “And I’m insanely fucking glad to have you in my life too.” 

He was Steve. Your Steve. Your best friend Steve. The Robin to your Batman. That couldn’t change. Ever.

So, why the fuck did you get the sudden urge to kiss him on the mouth instead of that all-too-familiar spot on his cheek again? 

Of course, you didn’t do it, and, of course, neither did Steve. Instead, a silence settled over the two of you for a bit.

“Come on, let’s head back in,” Steve said after a few moments. Somehow he was always the logical one in moments like these. 

Still, though, you felt the tiniest bit disappointed. But, you’d completely forget about that feeling, that fleeting thought, by the morning. 

Steve stood first and then reached out to pull you up. One of your hands was still intertwined with his when you walked back into the house. 

The party was still in full swing, and when the front door opened and a handful of new people walked in, that didn’t necessarily shock you. But it did make you smile widely at the people coming in because you recognized a familiar face. 

“Eddie!” You immediately went over to him, practically falling into his arms as you hugged him.

Since, due to your drunkenness, you’d actually forgotten that you all told him about the party after his band finished their set and he said he’d meet you there later, it felt like so much more of a coincidental, happy accident that he was there right then. You weren’t even fazed by his zombie costume, which had freaked you a little earlier because of how good and realistic it looked. 

“Hi!” He exclaimed, matching your enthusiasm while also smiling and laughing at your current antics. “You’re drunk.” He then looked at Steve who was behind you. “Wow, and you are too.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

Eddie laughed a bit. “I can just see it all over you, Harrington.”

You stopped paying attention to their conversation and let your mind wander as you looked around at all of the random people in the house that were dancing and laughing with their friends.  

I should get another drink.

“That’s a bad idea,” Eddie said to you. 

You laughed as you looked at him. “I didn’t even realize I said that out loud.”

“Another reason why both of you need to be cut off for the rest of the night.” 

You knew that he was right, but that didn’t mean that you had to outwardly agree with him. Instead, you smiled at him and said, “I never thought I’d see the day where Edward Munson became the mom of the group.”

“Sometimes I like to turn over a new leaf,” He gave you a wry smile back and then poked your side which only made you laugh. “Where are Robin and Vickie?”

“That’s a good question,” Steve said and looked around for a quick second before meeting your eyes. “Do you remember the last time we saw them?” 

“I’m pretty sure it was right before we started playing truth or dare,” You answered and tried to think about exactly how long ago that was, but failed to do so because your memory felt too fuzzy right then. “I have no perception of time right now, so that could’ve been hours ago, honestly.” 

“It’s actually kind of funny how you two always somehow end up playing that game whenever we go to parties,” Eddie said. 

Steve shrugged. “It’s a stupidly fun game to play when drunk.”

“We also played a lot of hide and seek tonight,” You added and smiled.

Eddie only shook his head and laughed a bit. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder. “Eddie, if you’re feeling left out, we can play another round of hide and seek with you.”

He playfully rolled his eyes at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll live.”

“Oh, there they are,” Steve said, and when you looked in the direction of where he was pointing, you saw Robin and Vickie sitting on the couch in the living room and watching the movie that was playing on the huge television. The most random scene was on right then, and the sound coming from the TV could not be heard over the loud music that was playing throughout the house, but you immediately recognized the movie as Friday the 13th; which was actually pretty fitting because even though it wasn’t literally Friday the 13th, it was at least a Friday.

You then realized that the time was probably so far past midnight, so maybe it actually wasn’t fitting anymore. But, it was still a Halloween party, so technically any scary movie could work. 

Your mind then started listing off other scary movies you didn’t mind watching— Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining—  and you suddently couldn’t remember why you were even thinking about scary movies in the first place.

Eddie was definitely right; you really didn’t need another drink. 

“Hey,” Steve said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Eddie was now sitting with Robin and Vickie and watching the silently playing movie with them, and you and Steve were turned around leaning back against the couch. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Batman?” 

You laughed for no particular reason aside from how nice it felt to do so right then. 

“I think I’m starting to hit my peak. So, I need to capitalize off of this feeling before things start going downhill and I start begging Vickie to take us home so that I can pass out in bed.” You looked up at Steve and met his eyes. “Are you down for a few more rounds of hide and seek?”

His mouth quirked upward in a small smile. “Always.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt like you were choking, and that feeling was what pulled you out of your sleep. Your eyes were still closed as you reached up to touch your throat and immediately felt that your cape was still buttoned around your neck, but it felt so much tighter than how it did last night.

Your eyes opened just a bit and you saw Steve sleeping next to you, and you also noticed that you were in his room. He was on top of the blanket, still fully in his Robin costume, and you were under the covers. Somehow your cape had gotten tangled up underneath the pillow Steve was laying on. You groaned as you unbuttoned it, finally breathing normally. 

You shut your eyes again, trying to will yourself back to sleep because you felt like you could use a thousand more hours. But, for some reason, you couldn’t fall asleep, and instead all your mind could focus on was Steve’s soft snoring. 

Anytime you two ended up sleeping in the same bed or same room, his snoring rarely ever annoyed you, but this time it managed to do the opposite. And now you also needed to pee. 

With a sigh, you got out of the bed and padded over to Steve’s bathroom. You kept the light off because you refused to see how you looked right then, and also because the abrupt brightness would’ve only contributed to your growing headache. 

Steve was awake when you exited the bathroom. He was on his back, eyes open as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“You almost woke up next to a corpse,” You told him, your voice actually sounding much more hoarse than you expected it to be. 

He turned to look at you. “I feel like a corpse.”

“You were sleeping on my cape. I was almost strangled to death.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“I don’t really understand why we didn’t change out of our costumes when we got home. I also don’t remember why I decided to sleep in your bed,” You said as you got back in bed and pulled the blanket over you again. You tried to think back to last night, when you and Steve got back to the apartment, but right then it felt too hard to put the pieces of what happened together and you felt too hungover to do so. “Where are my pants?”

“I slightly remember you saying something about how much you “fucking hated them,” so you took them off before you got in my bed,” Steve answered.

You laughed. “Okay, yeah, that sounds familiar.”

He sat up, letting out a tired groan in the process, and started getting out of bed. “I need a shower.” 

“Me too,” You agreed with a nod but still leaned back and let your head fall against the pillow. “But, I also really wanna go back to sleep.” 

“We can be lazy on the couch all day,” Steve suggested. “Watch random sitcoms and order takeout for lunch and dinner.” 

His words were enough to get you of the bed and you smiled at him. “I love that idea.”

It wasn’t until you were in your room that you finally noticed that the time was somehow only nine in the morning. A part of you felt like it should be illegal for you to be up this early after the night you’d had, but your shower was helpful at washing away most of your tiredness and dull headache. 

When you emerged from your bathroom thirty minutes later wearing your favorite hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, you smelled coffee in the kitchen. 

“You’re awesome. You’re amazing. I love you. Thank you so much,” You said to Steve when you walked into the kitchen and he handed you a warm mug.  

“No problem,” He told you before taking a long sip from his own mug. “Also, while I was in the shower I had a thought; no more drinking for us. Not until Thanksgiving when we have to deal with our families, and alcohol is the only thing that will make getting through that holiday bearable.”

You nodded at that. “I completely agree.”

You were about to open the fridge to grab the carton of milk so that you could add some to your coffee, when you noticed the new polaroid picture that was hanging on it, pinned up by the Statue of Liberty magnet you and Steve got in New York when you took a trip there back in June.  

“When did we take this picture?”

Steve looked at the polaroid and his eyebrows furrowed. “I honestly can’t remember.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “We look so drunk, holy shit.”

So drunk but also so happy. Your cheeks were squished together so that you both could fit in the frame and happy drunk smiles took over your faces. You could tell by how much of a close up the picture was that you were the one that took it. 

It was a little funny, but also sort of fitting, seeing that picture among the other ones already on the fridge— including a group photo of the kids when they spent the night over at the apartment just a week ago, and one of Eddie smiling and holding your and Steve’s shared pet hamster, Harold. 

You grabbed the black Sharpie that was someohw always sitting on the kitchen counter— perhaps it was for this exact reason— and you wrote on the empty white space at the bottom of the new polaroid. 

Halloween ‘85. Batman & Robin.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[dyns33]

The Scar

Another Miguel O Hara x female reader, with suspense !

Miguel had been acting weird for several weeks.

Ever since he had returned early from his seminar. In the middle of the night, he'd slipped into bed and kissed her like he hadn't seen her in forever.

It didn't bother Y/N. It had been a while since Miguel really touched her, according to him too tired from his work.

He had apologized that night, saying that he missed her, that he had asked to change his hours to spend more time with her, before repeating again and again that he loved her.

It was adorable, but it was also a bit weird.

There was something different about him, and Y/N couldn't figure out what.

The idea that he was cheating on her came quickly. Miguel was acting like a man who clearly had something to be ashamed of. Something bad.

Of course, all women would have been delighted to have their husbands look at them as he looked at her now. That their husbands come home early to cook dinner, give them a massage, listen to how their day went, kiss them passionately while whispering words of love in Spanish.

But it was really not in Miguel's habits.

Even at the start of their relationship, he had never really been romantic. Y/N remembered him telling her that it made sense for them to be together when they graduated, since they were both brilliant.

She liked to believe that he had loved her, at one point, then the routine had set in, and they had stayed together because it was easier.

All these gifts and kisses, it was really not normal.

It didn't take Y/N long to suspect that Miguel was having an affair with his colleague, Doctor Daniels. They had worked on a lot of projects, he talked about her often, and they went on business trips together.

She was beautiful, young and intelligent. Y/N didn't stand a chance against her.

Despite his promise to be here more often, there were always late nights when he came home. She imagined quickly that he was not always in the office, which she checked very quickly.

One evening, she woke up while he was getting dressed. He seemed embarrassed to see her in the hallway.

"Mi amor. Did I wake you up ? Forgive me, there was a problem in the office, a toxin leak, I have to go."

He kissed her so tenderly that Y/N wanted to cry watching him close the door.

A phone call to Alchemax was enough to know that there was no problem, and that nobody had called Miguel. Quickly checking, many of the dates and times were inconsistent with his schedule.

After pain and sorrow came anger. Knowing her husband well, Y/N knew there was no reason to stay and try to talk to him. So she took her things and went to stay in a hotel for the night.

She still wasn't asleep when someone knocked the next morning, and it was a surprise to see Miguel. Not only did he have no way of knowing where she was, she hadn't even thought he would be looking for her.

Visibly distraught, he took her in his arms as soon as she opened the door.

"Y/N ! Are you okay ? I came home and you were gone ! I was so scared, I thought… Why are you here ? Was there a problem Someone came to the house ? You…"

"There was no toxin leak."

"… What ?"

"There was no toxin leak in your office. Miguel, I know you're lying to me. I know you… I know you're cheating on me."

"What ?" he repeated again, looking as much annoyed as hurt. "No. Never ! I would never cheat on you, I love you ! I only love you."

"Please… I'm not stupid. You tell me you're going to work, and your office tells me you're not there. So where are you, uh ? What are you doing ? It's Why you've been so nice lately, so I don't get suspicious ? Because you're remorseful ? Because you're…"

"I'm Spiderman."

Y/N had heard of Spiderman, like everyone in Nueva York. A hero who could walk on the ceiling, and who fought crime.

Her first reaction was to laugh, then Miguel squirted a web from his handle that stuck a lamp to the wall and she agreed to listen.

He promised her that he had never cheated on her. He loved her more than anything, he would die for her, and he would never hurt her. The nights he was out and not working, he was saving lives. He hadn't told her, because he didn't want to worry her, or for her to take him for a monster.

"Okay, it's a bit special that you can pull stuff out of your arms and swing from building to building, but it's nothing monstrous."

"Actually… My DNA was altered on multiple levels, resulting in multiple physical changes."

"Is that why you look taller and more muscular ?"

"No. Yes ! I mean, a bit, but I'm not talking about that. It's… My teeth. My eyes, my hands, my legs…"

"I don't see anything weird with your eyes or your hands."

Since the beginning of their conversation, Miguel seemed really uncomfortable, but this moment was really the most complicated for him. His eyes were filled with fear as they turned red, he showed Y/N his sharp canines, and his fingernails turned into claws.

"…Wow. You look like a big cat."

"Amor, I don't look like a big cat." mumbled Miguel, blushing, lunging at her to tickle her when she tried to scratch his ear.

It could have ended there. Y/N would give everything for things to end there, because it was a very good explanation, Miguel loved her, he had promised her that there would be no more lies, and everything was fine.

A party organized by Alchemax and several glasses of champagne changed that, when Doctor Daniels approached with a strange smile, while Miguel had gone to the toilet.

"You and your husband look very happy."

"We are, thank you."

"Yeah. He didn't say that. We were happy too, you know ? The best years of my life. A real beast in bed, caliente. Then one day, nothing. He dumped me like trash. I guess he's found someone better. I thought it was nice to let you know."

"Mi amor ?"

Miguel watched her run away, not glancing at Doctor Daniels. He followed her easily, catching up with her in an alley and hugging her to calm her down, leaving her to hit him sobbing and screaming.

He hadn't heard what Doctor Daniels had said to put her in such a state, and when she repeated it to him, he seemed to go mad with rage. Because his honor was touched, but also because he couldn't bear to see Y/N cry.

"I'm going to kill her ! I've never had an affair with this woman, ever ! She's lying, she's crazy !"

"Don't lie to me." Y/N cried, still clinging to him.

"I swear to you, mi amor. Never. Not with her, not with anyone else."

In the following days, there were several elements that indicated that Miguel was telling the truth. First, there was no message exchanged between him and Doctor Daniels, despite the incessant assertions of the latter, who did not understand why she could not find them. No photo or video of them either.

At the office, no one thought they were more than co-workers who got along well. Miguel O Hara had the reputation of being a serious man, a little angry, selfish and focusing mainly on his research.

The only moment captured by Alchemax's surveillance cameras was when Doctor Daniels approached Miguel to ask him why they were no longer together, and if there was any chance they could see each other again.

Miguel remained cold, distant, politely asking her to leave him alone, repeating to her that there had never been anything between them, and that there never would be anything, because he only loved his wife.

This made Doctor Daniels laugh, who touched his arm, before trying to kiss him.

Jumping up from his chair, Miguel looked at her in disgust, forbidding her to approach him.

The incident trickled down to the bosses, which brought all the previous research and proved that Dr. Daniels had a little problem with her obsession with her colleague, who was not at all interested. She was fired.

This did not please her at all, and since she could not get her lover back, and had lost her job, Doctor Daniels insisted on destroying the married couple.

She called Y/N, texted her, followed her to work and home, telling her over and over that she'd shared Miguel's bed for years.

Maybe he never really liked her, because this guy was obviously not able to love anyone but himself, and he was too afraid for his reputation to admit it, but it was the truth.

"I can prove it !" cried Dr. Daniels hysterically, banging on Y/N's car window. "I know what he likes to eat ! I've driven his car before ! He told me about his brother."

"That's not evidence. Please leave me." Y/N begged her as she tried to start.

"He's got a scar on his back ! How do I know that, huh ? Miguel hates bathing, he doesn't undress in public, it's tiny because it was just a little fall from a horse when he was a kid. How do I know that ?!"

Y/N felt her heart race, as she tried to breathe normally, because indeed, Miguel had a scar, and hardly anyone knew about it. It was in the middle of his back, you could feel it by running your hand over his skin.

She then thought of two things.

Dr. Daniels wasn't lying.

And since his early return from his seminar and his change in behavior, she had passed her hand several times on her husband's back, without feeling this tiny scar.

In the middle of Miguel's back, there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Repeating this to herself, Y/N invited Dr. Daniels to come with her to the house, where Miguel was cooking dinner.

He was surprised to see them, and even more surprised when she calmly asked him to take off his shirt and show his back, while Daniels was screaming hysterically, ordering him to show them his scar and then confess.

He didn't look at the doctor once, his eyes fixed on Y/N, who was only looking at him as well. In his eyes, she could see that he understood why, why Daniels was asking this, but more importantly why Y/N was asking this. He knew that she knew.

Without saying anything, he obeyed and turned around. Dr. Daniels then stopped screaming, freezing.

The back was perfect, tall, muscular. In addition to the noticeable lack of a scar, Y/N noted that he was much taller and more muscular than before, before all of this.

"Well…" Miguel muttered as he got dressed. "Happy ? Excuse me, but I'm only showing the rest to my wife. If you could leave us now."

"I… I don't understand. You had a scar."

"I never had a scar. I never had a relationship with you."

"It's not… You… I think I need to sleep. Excuse me." stammered Doctor Daniels before quickly leaving, leaving them alone.

They stayed like that for a long time, face to face in the kitchen, neither moving nor speaking. Then Miguel sighed, visibly tired and sorry.

He hadn't lied. Not even once. He had simply omitted to say that he wasn't really Miguel, or at least not her Miguel, and that he wasn't the Spiderman of this universe, but of another.

He had seen an opportunity to be happy, after losing his Y/N, and now that her Miguel was gone. Her horrible Miguel, as he called him, who didn't see how lucky he was, who had never known how to treat her right, and who didn't deserve her.

"But I know." he whispered as he approached, shyly taking her hand. "I know I'm lucky to be with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, the only one. I can't live without you. I thought… Maybe you'd be happier without him, that it would be a relief to hear of his passing. But I also thought I could give you all the things he should have given you. I can leave if you want. I love you."

For several weeks, Y/N had been very happy, showered with love and kisses. She had been afraid of being cheated on, but that was no longer the case, not with this Miguel, who loved her.

So she forgot that there had always been a small scar on her husband's back, and she kissed him, telling him that she loved him too.