#this was before he divorced but it was obvious that it was going to happen before it happened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

improbable-outset · 4 months

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📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (LMAOOO)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-Divorce, shared custody, injury and stitching in the beginning, heavy angst, arguing, Jealous!Miguel, fall out, mentions of infidelity and pregnancy, EVENTUALLY SMUT, PIV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating (we’re getting nasty nasty), brief breeding kink

𝐀/𝐍: This is inspired by @yougavemeyourheartyouknow baby daddy AU. I didn’t think this one would get this lengthy but here we are I guess.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.

Miguel hissed when he felt the rubbing alcohol being smeared onto the wound across his abdomen with a cotton pad. A sharp scent of disinfectant wove through the air, tingling his nostrils and it mingled with the faint aroma of coffee you both had earlier.

There he was, perched on the sofa in his ex-wife’s living room, hair damp from sweat as you patch him up after another mission as Spider-Man — an event he never anticipated would happen to him at two in the morning.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he spattered out as he felt another stinging wave from the alcohol. You gaze up at him from his wound that you were focused on before you spoke.

“Sorry, I thought you had a higher pain tolerance,” you said, dabbing the wound gently.

“I do, but that doesn’t give you license to be rough with me like that,” he mumbled. Despite the divorce, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him.

You both remained friends as your marriage never worked out between the two of you. You would patch him up whenever he needed it— he would rather have you take care of him just to feel your touch than have a random nurse.

As the blood cleared from the open cut, you could see the gash more visibly now. A villain's blade had slashed across him deep enough to leave a large wound that won’t heal on its own.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you got up from the seat to go to the bathroom before coming back with your kit. Miguel sank further into the plush cushion of the sofa, feeling the fabric yield under his weight.

His heart twisted with a mix of guilt and gratitude as he watched you tend to his wound. He grimaced slightly at the pinch of the needle on his skin but your hands were delicate, careful not to further damage the delicate area.

He sat still motionless as his eyes were glued to you. It was easy to admire you and how concentrated you were right now. You were always nurturing and wanted the best for people you cared about. Your brows furrowed as you kept working on the cut.

“Jesus Miguel…” you whispered, taking in the sheer size of his cut.

“What?” He asked, tilting his head in mock confusion. “It’s not that bad, you know I’ve had worse. You’ve treated worse than this,”

Even if you were divorced and not together by law, he still cherished these moments with you. You were still the same woman he loved.

Watching you fix him up made him feel like things were almost back to normal again— that he was home and his wife was here to get him back on his feet. Until reality would set in.

“I know. It’s almost like you’re testing your own durability,” there was an obvious worry etched in your voice as you were finishing up stitching his wound. It made his stomach churn with silent longing.

“That cut? You really think that’s a test for durability?” He arched his brow inquisitively. He knew it was a big gash but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“That was nothing more than me not paying attention. But this one however…" he pointed to his bruised shoulder, "that was a test for durability. I got smashed through a wall,”

You peered up at him momentarily, a flicker of disturbance in your eyes, before you silently resumed his last stitches.

Silence fell between you as the faint hum of the city filtered through the window, punctured by the occasional sirens and car horns.

“All done,” you announced, leaning back to examine your work.

He sat up from the couch carefully, making sure not to put too much strain on the fresh stitches. “Gracias,”

“Don’t forget to drink your fluids,” you reminded him.

“Sí sí. You sound like an overprotective mother,”

“Well…I just so happen to have a daughter,” you gave a soft smile. Out of everything that had happened in your marriage, he would forever be grateful that you gave him a daughter.

Watching Gabriella grow was a profound blessing that he would never take for granted. Fatherhood had made him learn a lot about himself that he never knew he could harbour, fostering a newfound level of patience and empathy within him.

And now, as Gabriella was approaching her fifteenth birthday, Miguel couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly the years had passed. He would soon be preparing for her quinceañera with you, a milestone that seemed to arrive in a blink of an eye.

“And do you tell her to drink her fluids as much as you tell her papá?” He asked in a slight tease.

“You know I do and I tell her to eat her greens,” you replied, matching his lighthearted tone.

His heart soared at the fond memories. You were always an amazing mother, a role that bloomed naturally from you as soon as you gave birth to your daughter and held her in your arms for the first time.

He didn’t think he could fall for you more until he saw you nurse your baby for the first time with a tender look in your eyes. He hated the fact that he wasn’t there to witness those precious moments of you bonding with your daughter enough when he had the chance to.

“I’m surprised Gabi hasn’t picked up any of your bad habits,”

“Bad habits like what?”

“You know…the irresponsible stuff,” he chuckled, clearly getting a rise out of you. “You should’ve seen her last weekend. She called the guy you’re seeing a ‘cabrón’”

An uneasy tension knotted in chest after he broached the subject of your date, almost like he was dreading to hear what you were going to say.

He was never thrilled about the topic, just as he never was when you spoke about anything to do with other men. However, he didn’t expect to see your face drop, like the topic hit a raw nerve.

“She said that?” You voice was hesitant and he noticed shoulders slump and your brows furrowed.

Either you were uncomfortable with Gabriella’s candid remark towards your date or you didn’t like that she was cursing at her age.

“She did. Look I heard what she said but she’s probably just saying that to sound grown up. She is a teenager and the hormones make them go nuts,”

“Sure I guess,”

“Try not to take it personally,” he reached out to hold your hand and tried to reassure you, even if hearing Gabriella cursing wasn’t the best thing a father should let slide.

“I’m not upset about that,” you droned.

“Your tone says otherwise,”

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Your demeanor shifted into something more serious and you were avoiding eye contact with him which made him uneasy. “If I’m going to keep dating him, I can’t patch you up like this anymore,”

Miguel swallowed thickly, processing what you had just told him. “You’re not meaning…”

“Yes,”

He felt an uncomfortable pull in his gut and his heart felt like it was about the leap out of his throat. “You can’t be serious,”

“It won’t be fair on him if I’m still friends with the man I was married to,” Miguel couldn’t help but scoff at that, but he couldn’t call it stupid.

A small part of him knew that you were right. How could any man feel safe when his new woman was still close with her ex-husband, her ex who still loved and pined for her? But he wasn’t going to stand for that.

“And since when did I care if it’s fair on him?” He snapped back.

For a split second, Miguel could feel the cool platinum of the wedding band that he still hasn’t removed from his finger. It served him a bitter reminder that he was still not over you. He hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, especially now.

“This isn’t just about you,” there was a sharpness in your tone when you said that, whether it was intentional or not it still cut deep. You continued to pour salt on the wound as you added on, “Don’t act like you didn’t sign those divorce papers too,”

“Stop it, don’t you think I know that. I was naive to think that a divorce was going to solve anything,” Those damn divorce papers. Thinking about it made the knife that was already stabbing his heart twist further.

If there was anything he regretted the most in life, it would be sitting down in the courtroom and signing those papers that finalised your parting.

Now, he had to watch you go on a date with someone else because he pushed you away. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, frustration knotting in his chest.

“You know why we had to file the divorce,” you said.

Miguel’s mind went spiraling and he wanted to sink into the floor. He was fully aware that he was the one to blame for this. The long hours he spent away as Spider-Man, the growing distance between the two of you— it all led to a rift that tore you apart.

He initiated the divorce, convinced it was for the best. Your marriage was standing on its last leg and he didn’t want to waste your time.

Even if there was no bad blood between the two of you and you decided to stick to being friends after, it didn’t make things hurt any less. Miguel still craved more of you and he missed his chance when he had it.

But now the consequences of his decision were biting him in the ass and the prospect of his biggest fear was coming to fruition. He couldn’t stop you from dating again and he hated it.

“Even if we do stick to being friends, we’re going to be more distant than we were before,” you further explained.

Miguel stared silently as you stood up from the couch and kept going. Each word uttered from you was punctuated with agony that was piercing his heart. “You’re not going to be able to have me like you used to Miguel, not the way that you want,”

He knew he was starting to be selfish now and he had no right to be jealous when he failed you as a husband. He was fully aware of the point you were making and the logic behind it but he still refused to let it go.

Finally he spoke after a long while, “I’d rather have a part of you than none of you,”

“Do you truly believe that you’ll be satisfied with that in the long run?”

Realistically, no. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He didn’t want to be a bystander in your life and witness you bounce back and love someone again that wasn’t him.

But despite that, he still wanted to stay because there was still a small part of him that was grasping onto straws, hoping that you will take him back and you’ll be his again.

But how long could he accept the scraps of you that you’d throw at him before it got too unbearable? It was ironic— the main cause of his wounds that you just patched up right now, the life of Spider-Man, was the reason why you both drifted apart.

“If it wasn’t for our shared custody that’s tying us down, I would’ve said we should’ve cut off a long time ago,”

Those words hurt more than Miguel let on. He rose from the couch and limped towards you, hissing from the sting of the wounds. “Don’t say that, I’m the father of your child—”

“And that’s all you’ll ever be,” Miguel winced internally.

He didn’t know what hurt more, you interjecting or the fact that you only saw him as a co-parent to your daughter. But the latter was definitely going to have a lasting effect on him.

He was going to reach out for you, but you turned your back to him. He had nothing to say now and this could be the last time you would be this warm and open with him.

Without uttering another word, he tapped on his watch to engage his suit before moving towards the window. A moment before he shot his webs to hoist himself away, you spoke one last time.

“You have Gabi for next weekend.”

He merely nodded at your words before he disappeared into the night, swallowing his frustration and disappointment. His web shooters echoed through the streets.

His mood drastically changed the moment he left your comforting apartment to the chaos of Nueva York— it was almost palpable.

His web shot out, catching onto the building he was aiming for. He landed against the wall with a gentle thud before he turned back to look at your apartment from afar. This was going to be the last time he could swing by your apartment through your window freely and his heart was already aching for you.

Miguel headed up to your apartment and rapped at the door. It didn’t take long before he saw Gabriella answering the door to him.

She had a duffle bag full of her clothes for the weekend and her phone was in one hand. He gave her a warm smile and kissed her forehead.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied casually.

Miguel’s line of sight went past Gabi and further into the house. You weren’t anywhere near the door.

He didn’t know what it was but Miguel felt a pull that was coaxing him to go to you. For a moment, he was conflicted whether or not he should see you. But eventually he caved in to his desires and stepped into the house.

“Where’s you mom?” Miguel asked.

“She’s in the bathroom taking a shower, I think,” Gabi replied before her attention was drawn into her phone screen.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Miguel padded over to the bathroom with cautious steps. It had been six months since your friendship had broken off, and he didn’t know what to expect when you saw him in your home.

His palms were sweating, and he could feel every pulse in his body. Part of him thrived off the anticipation that was building up to the moment but the other part was screaming at him to turn back and just leave you alone.

The bathroom door was ajar but the shower wasn’t running. He could see from the gap that you definitely weren’t taking a shower.

He found you sitting in the walk in shower with your knees tucked into your chest. You were wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. He pushed open the door further so he could get a better look at you.

Your eyes looked foggy but he could still see the redness around the rim from crying moments earlier. It almost looked like you were in a dissociative state, and for a moment, he thought you didn’t acknowledge him until you spoke.

“Gabi’s stuff is at the front door,” you mumbled. Your voice sounded hoarse and wavering as if it took extra effort for you to speak.

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, keeping his response short so he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to open the door to more problems.

“So why are you here?”

Miguel didn’t know how to respond without eliciting a negative reaction from you. He didn’t want to tell you the full truth, but he also couldn’t think of an excuse for your question either.

He couldn’t leave your question hanging longer than it already has, so he opened his mouth to speak, even if he didn’t know what to say “I…was just checking Gabi got everything,”

The nagging urge to reach out to you, to touch you, was getting harder to ignore with each passing second he was in your presence.

Seeing you this vulnerable in the bathroom was tormenting and it was not something he was expecting to see. He didn’t know how to inquire about your well-being without sounding invasive.

“Are you okay?”

Clearly not. You shook your head mutely. At least you were being honest. Miguel cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s pathetic,”

“It’s not pathetic if it got you crying like that,”

Seeing you on the bathroom floor like this sent him back fifteen years earlier where you were in the same position, except you didn’t look so ghostly.

Both of you were holding each end of the pregnancy test, nervousness etched in both of your faces as you anticipated for the results.

Miguel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze feeling the clammy warmth of your skin against his. Your eyes remained glued to the test in front of you, time seemingly slowing to a crawl.

The moment you saw the double lines appear, you broke down into tears and sobbed into his chest from pure joy. Miguel’s heart stuttered as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

The news that you were going to be parents cremated his love for you even more. You couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t release him that night— your grip was like titanium.

He didn’t mind carrying you to bed though, the weight of you in his arms grounding him in a sense of euphoria that washed over him now.

Seeing you now, so different yet so achingly familiar, brought a lump to his throat. He heard your voice again and was brought back to the present.

“He…” the word was lodged in your throat. Miguel could feel a tinge of rage brewing in him with a mixture of his protective instincts. He knew you were talking about your current boyfriend the moment the word left your lips.

“He cheated,” you stated. Miguel's anger flared and he balled his fist tightly, struggling to contain the rolling emotions threatening to spill out. Even if he didn’t show his anger outwardly, you still knew him well enough to pick up on the signs.

“Please I’m begging you, don’t do anything rash. I’ll heal from this, but the last thing I want is you getting involved,” he heard your plea, and seeing your upset expression made him push aside his heated thoughts.

He was inadequate when it came to being your devoted husband, so what made him believe that he could be your hero in this situation.

He didn’t want to do anything that would further upset you; he had already overstepped your boundaries by trying to reconnect with you.

But now that you’ve broken things off with your boyfriend, could this be an opportunity to rekindle your friendship? Maybe something more. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

His heart was trying to root him to stay but his intuition was tugging at him to go. It was clear that you didn’t want to talk about it further with him.

As much as it bothered him, there was nothing he could do. After all, you were a grown woman, and you were free to keep things to yourself.

You didn’t owe him anything even if he was your ex-husband— if anything that was probably more reasons why you shouldn’t share anything with him.

“I think I should be getting going, Gabi’s waiting,” he turned around and reached for the door, trying to conceal his disappointment.

“Wait—” you called out. He halted. “Are you planning to do anything later?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” You asked meekly. He mulled it over for a moment. He suspected that you didn’t want to be alone after what you’ve experienced and he was glad that he was the one that could keep you company.

“If it would make you feel better, then of course,” his tone was warmer and his muscles relaxed at the thought of spending an evening with you.

There was still that underlying anger he felt towards you ex who had the galls to betray you like that behind your back.

But that was overshadowed by the newfound seed of hope that was planted in his heart— that things might get better between the two of you.

You rose up from the shower floor and washed your tear stained face before you both got out of the bathroom together.

Miguel felt the rush of wind brushing past him as he swung over from building to building to get to his destination. His movements were fueled by determination and yearning.

It wasn’t long until he could see the soft glow of your bedroom light filtering through the curtains. He paused outside of your apartment, contemplating how things would turn out. What was he doing here? What was he hoping to achieve? All he knew was that he couldn’t stay away no matter how hard he tried.

With a sigh, he slipped into the open window and pushed past the curtains. He found you settled on your bed with the bedside lap on. You glanced at him, showing that you had acknowledged him but you didn’t give him your full attention.

“Gabi’s staying over at my parents’ house,” you said dismissively. Part of him was glad that Gabi wasn’t around— he didn’t want her to witness how vulnerable he was right now and the tension between her parents.

“I’m not here for Gabi,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing.

The apartment felt different than normal— almost hollow even though nothing much had changed physically the last time he was here. Maybe the feeling was from the absence of warmth between the two of you

“Do you need me to patch you up again?” You asked incredulously, still not looking at him.

“I’m not here for that either,”

Finally, you look back at him, waiting to see what he had to say.

It took a few seconds before he could trust himself to speak again, but to him it felt like a lifetime. The words he had rehearsed mentally over and over finally spilled.

“I came here to apologise, for everything. I neglected you and wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I’ve hurt you,”

There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched out for a while. Your face was unreadable, blank of any emotion and Miguel couldn’t tell what was going through your head. There wasn’t even a twitch in your expression that he could pick up on.

“Now he says he’s sorry,” your voice carried a bitterness that threw him off. You climbed off your bed and took a few steps away, facing your back to him.

Miguel’s heart sank in disbelief.

“Are you really going to give me the cold shoulder now?” He climbed down the windowsill and stepped further into your room towards you. “Look, I know it’s a late apology, but I need you to understand how much I regret pushing you away. Please just hear me out,”

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You left me alone. You were never there, always busy in another dimension or saving the multiverse while our marriage fell apart.”

“I was trying to protect you!” His voice escalated in volume. “Everything I did, I did it for you and Gabi,”

“Protect me?” You scoffed. “By pushing me away? All you did was made me feel like I wasn’t important enough to fight for,”

Miguel gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration surfacing. “You think I didn’t suffer? Every time I left, it tore me apart. But I thought it was something I had to do,”

“You thought wrong,”

Suddenly all those gloomy memories came rushing to him like a tidal wave. He could see the images of your lonely silhouette sitting at the dining table, waiting for a husband who never came home.

The empty bed that felt colder each night he wasn’t there.

The guilt that had been lingering since the divorce now crashed down like a storm on him, suffocating him.

“I know I made mistakes and I didn’t prioritise our marriage. But I never stopped loving you, not for a second,” He said, his voice softened, almost in a pleading manner.

“Really?” You said, your tone cutting. “Did seeing me move on and go on another date make you suddenly come to your senses?”

Miguel’s jaw clenched at that. He didn’t like that you saw him that way but he couldn’t blame you for coming to that conclusion. “That’s not fair, I was trying to do what’s best for us. I didn’t want to hold you back,”

“You didn’t want to hold me at all, Miguel. Do you really think that you could swing by into my apartment and fix everything with an apology?”

“No…” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair before his voice lowered, “But I would regret it everyday if I didn’t try. Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life,”

His mind was racing, remembering the warmth of you embracing and how you would fit perfectly together. “I miss the way we used to be, I missed the way you would melt in my arms, I miss coming home to you,”

“Kiss me,”

“What?” He gave you a puzzled look. “After everything that I’ve done to you, you want me to kiss you?”

“If you’re really sorry, you would kiss me,”

Miguel hesitated— his mind was conflicted, torn between his guilt and your command. For a moment he didn’t move, studying your face to see if you had an ulterior motive to all of this. Was this a test or a chance at redemption?

But eventually, he caved in and leaned in until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first as he was holding back from overwhelming you.

His lips slowly parted, and he softly whispered into your mouth. “I’m so sorry,”

He heard you moan softly in response and his chest clenched. He couldn’t believe he had that much of an effect on you just from a kiss.

His hands reached over to the back of your head firmly before his lips pressed hard on your lips, not wanting to miss a single moment of you were sharing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

You clung onto him, your kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to erase all the pain and distance between the two of you.

After everything you’ve been through, you’ve still had a tight grip on him, and it was killing him little by little. But he would happily give himself to you without a second thought.

He pulled away and his lips trailed over your jaw. All the hostility from you melted away as he continued to kiss over your face and neck. He could visibly sense the tension easing from your body as your breath hitched.

He pulled his face away from your neck to look at you in the eyes. “Needy,”

“Says you,”

“Yeah? I’m not the one who asked to be kissed though,”

“You and I both know that you wanted it just as much as I did,”

“Hmm maybe. Do you know what else I want?”

“I might have an idea,” you finished off your sentence by grinding your hips against his own. He let out a stuttered moan at the touch before a smile crept across his face.

So shameless.

He felt the heat creeping to his groin and translating to a growing erection. His dick was painfully hard now and you continued to grind your hips, using his erection to get more friction.

His face heated up when he heard your desperate whines. You were so needy for him right now and that was only stroking his ego.

He pulled away from your embrace and disengaged his suit with his watch to reveal his nude body in its full glory— his throbbing dick was the most prominent view.

He saw you gawking at the precum that was spilling from the tip— an amused smile played on your lips before you looked back up at him. “Look who’s needy now.”

Hearing your smug remark brought him a wave of nostalgia, something he missed when making love to you. But it also ignited something in him— a growing desire to take you and make you eat your words.

He grasped onto the hem of your silky nightgown and pulled them up so he could reach to your undies to pull them down. Swiftly, he lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist before effortlessly pinned you against the wall.

He knew he was being desperate and skipping most of the foreplay tonight, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel you clench around him, his body will hate him if he delayed it longer.

Positioning himself against your folds, he could already feel your wetness paint his tip. You were soaked just for him and only him— just how it should be.

He pushed himself in and your mouth hung from the overwhelming stretch from his dick. Feeling the grip you had was almost enough to knock the winds out of him. He halted when he was halfway, gauging the sight of you.

A sense of familiarity washed over him when he saw your face warp while struggling to take him in. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth was agape, slowly drowning in the bliss he was giving you.

You let out a startled moan when he slammed the rest of him in with a lewd slap.

“Go slow…please. I need time to adjust,” you breathed, voice coming out staggered. He kissed the corner of your mouth in acknowledgment. He dragged himself out before rolling his hips in, keeping a steady rhythm so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

It was easier to feel and hear how wet you were with his slow and shallow pace. He had been yearning for this moment for too long and now that he could finally have you like this, everything felt more intense.

You were finally his again and it almost felt too good to be real.

He rested his forehead against you, watching through his hazy eyes how responsive you were to him and picking up every micro expression.

The room filled with your soft moans as he kept thrusting into you. Your labored breaths merged with your lips inches away. He could feel his peak crawling in and he made sure to reach the deepest part of your crevice before he unraveled inside you.

Having his release fill you up again was dizzying. Carefully, he put you back down onto your feet again and you leaned onto his chest for stability until you regained your balance.

He kept holding you close with his body pressing flushed against yours and catching your breaths in silence. A short moment passed before you looked up at him.

“Let me taste you, please.” You said. It wasn’t a question. Hearing the way you requested that in such a sultry way made his cock twitch and he was whipped all over again.

He could feel the heat rush to his cock and his erection forming. “You want a taste? How can I say no?”

He pulled himself away from you and perched on your bed, spreading his thighs to display is dick standing on its end. He let out a sharp exhale as he watched you go down on your knees for him and settled between his legs.

Miguel tensed when he felt your hand clasped around his length, grappling onto the bed sheet to steady himself. The after effect of his previous climax was still tingling and coursing through him.

“Easy…don’t overdo it,” he muttered, his hip stuttered slightly.

You look up at him and he could feel a new string of precum drawing out from the tip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,”

Your tongue grazed along the tip, and you were collecting your own wetness that coated his dick from earlier along with his precum. You were so eager and yet so gentle, it was overwhelming.

You were too good and it was getting to his head. Everything about you was enticing. You gave the head of his cock a few kitten licks and he let out a groan, his hand reaching over to the back of your head.

It took every fiber of him not to buck his hip and shove him all the way into your mouth. He had to squeeze his eyes shut when he felt the warmth of your mouth around the tip. He let out another pleasurable moan, arching into your touch.

The sensitivity in his body continued to soar through him and the feeling of your mouth was enough to drive him up the walls.

You’re so good. How are you always so good at this.

More precum beaded up from his tip and gently leaked down into your mouth— he heard you hum from the taste. You lowered your head until you had his full length in his mouth.

His eyes fly open from the sudden sensation and he looked down to see you eying up at him. You carried a soft look in you eyes even while doing something lascivious. It was enough to disarm the coldest of souls; he couldn’t help but caress your cheeks right now.

“Eres tan hermosa en este momento,” he mumbled, still in a hazy trance. His nerves were firing and he threw his head back, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

Before he could register it, he was shaking and trembling when his orgasm came crashing down again. Ropes and ropes of his jizz squirted into your mouth. His eyes were unfocused, and it took him several deep breaths before he could find his voice again.

“Ay por dios…”

He still felt sparks from his high and his mind was absolutely buzzed. The lewd sound of you swallowing him down send a shiver crawling down his spine and his stomach fluttering.

His head dropped against the pillows from exhaustion, still panting. He felt the bed shift when you lie besides him and nussled against his chest.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he confessed, kissing the crown of your head.

“I can still taste you,” you teased. He responded lift your chin up to look at him and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. He was insatiable and he didn’t want to stop feeling your touch after having been deprived of it for so long.

He was quick to slip his tongue into your mouth and map out the familiar heat that he loved so much. The taste of himself was barely lingering in your mouth.

His mind was spinning from everything— the taste of your lips, the smell of your arousal and the sound of your low moans as he kissed you deeper.

All the little ways you responded to him was enough to give him the energy to turn you over on your stomach. His straddling on your back and his hard on sat at the base of your rear, between each globe of your cheeks.

“Hard again, eh?,” you quipped, turning your head to look at him.

But your demeanor quickly shifted when he began to push himself in, keeping his pace measured and slow. You started gripping and kneading the sheet from the feeling and muffled your moans into the pillow.

“Don’t hide from me,” he muttered, leaning in before his teeth nipped at your earlobe. You lifted your head from the pillow instinctively, letting out a startled noise.

He continued to slide himself in and out of you while simultaneously kiss along the curse of your neck from behind— each thrust was measured and calculated so you’d feel everything from him.

“Do I make you feel good, amor?” He moaned in your ear before he started to build a faster rhythm. Your noises became more urgent and he could tell you were desperately chase your high.

Each thrust pushed you further into the sheet. A guttural moan ripped from you as you clenched around him and reached your impending climax. He felt your come around him, taking him closer to the edge.

He pulled out momentarily, turning you around so you lied on your back and rested your legs on his shoulders. He didn’t give you a chance to prepare before he bottomed out.

He started thrusting inside you with little to no exit before hand. He didn’t pull his cock all the way but rather dragged himself slightly back before slamming back in relentlessly. The rough pace only milked more moans and sweet noises out of you, encouraging him to keep going.

Your voice was becoming frantic mixed with your moans and he almost missed when you spoke.

“Breed me,”

It took a moment for the words to register in your head and he felt his mind go hazy from your request. It wasn’t a question, but an order. You wanted this more than anything. His thought were filled of you, being bred by him and carrying another child and marking you as his again.

“Make me a mami again,”

This gave him extra motivation now. Each time, his thrusts became more and more sporadic and losing it’s rhythm. The bed creaked in protest from his pace. With one final stroke, he pushed as much of himself inside you and filled you up with your seeds again.

But he wasn’t done. He pulled himself away so he could slip two fingers into your swollen pussy. He gathered the remnants of your shared release onto the pad of his fingers before he held them near your mouth.

Pressing his thumb against your lower lip, he gently lowered it down and watched in awe as you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers in so you could get a taste and let out a low groan, feeling your mouth suckle on the cum that was clinging onto his fingers.

“Can you taste how good we are together, amor?”

He kept watching you intently until he slipped his fingers out and reached over to kiss your forehead. You look spend and your breathing became laboured.

Miguel perched onto the bed besides you again, gulping to moisture his dry mouth. He had spent so many nights alone, haunted by the nights of his decision that led to your divorce.

Being in bed with you alone, naked and drenched in the afterglow felt surreal. He didn’t think he would ever experience this again.

“Have I told you that I never stopped loving you,” he whispered with raw emotions. Even if he did already tell you, he wanted you to know that he meant every word. It was never about falling out of love but rather about protecting you and his daughter— his family.

Your eyes met his. “I know. But love wasn’t enough to keep us together,”

“I know that now. But I want to make things right, if you let me,” The air that was static with tension was now starting to flourish with new possibilities.

“I don’t know if things will be back to the way they were, but let’s take it a step at a time,” you kissed his mouth.

You pulled away and rose from the bed. “But I want to take a shower first, care to join me?”

He gave you a mischievous look and he was liking where this was going. “Lead the way, cariño,”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @maiyart @lazyjellyfish300 @mrsoharaa @truth-dare-spin-bottles @farrowroyale

@amberbalcom14 @blvd-sourz @bluesidez @slushycoookie @prettygirleli

@saintdiior @peachipeachy @xyziiix @mybvalentine @c4rm1son

@annavatar @scaryplanetdestroyer

You know normally in a situation where the character gets back with reader, you’d expect them to get all possessive and primal and whatnot. I didn’t want to showcase that dominant dynamics here. Not my cup of tea ewewew I kinda liked that I got reader to tease Miguel too and they still had their back and forth even after everything

Ayrus xoxo

#★— ayrus writes #♦︎— sinful encounters #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman miguel

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Derek and shy!reader maybe? Meeting the team for the first time and none of them are expecting Derek's partner to be standing half-hidden behind him, shyly waving at them instead of saying anything

thank you for ur request! fem!reader

"So what's the deal?" Emily asks Penelope, licking the stem of her paper umbrella dry before dropping it onto a napkin. "He's suddenly going steady?"

"Can you call five months sudden?" Rossi asks.

Hotch nudges him.

"What?" Rossi asks. "Can you? Five months is a long time."

"And that's why you had to send Christmas cards to three different divorce lawyers this year," Emily says.

Emily has a penchant for saying the occasional brazen comment, but JJ confiscates her friend's margarita anyways, before the booze loosens her lips and she says something worse. It's a small jet.

"It's not like Morgan," Spencer agrees, standing at Rossi's other side, looking less out of place than usual.

"It's totally like him," Penelope says.

Hotch's smile is hard to read, which is a spectacle considering current company. "I agree."

"Here he is now," Penelope says excitedly, clapping her hands in front of her chest.

Derek strides into the bar and past its patrons without a care in the world. He looks happy, content, and the team doesn't need to see you to know you're with him. He smiles at his phone at work exactly as he smiles now, with his arm stretched backwards to tether you along.

You come into view as the crowd thins. You're not what anyone's expecting, certainly not plain but nor are you dressed up. Emily, in her tipsiness, declares that you look adorable, and receives a reproachful look from Hotch in reward.

"Hey Derek!" JJ calls as soon as he's near enough.

"Hey, guys. Mama, you remember what we talked about?" Derek asks Penelope.

She nods sagely. "Restraint. I'm restraining myself. Oh my god you're so cute, I'm Penelope! I'm so happy to meet you."

"Hi," you say.

No less than five pairs of eyes fall to your hand as you twist your fingers into Derek's sleeve. He doesn't bat an eye, taking a half step in front of you, a picture of casualness as he introduces you to each of them in turn.

"It's nice to meet you," Hotch says, seemingly speaking for the whole group.

You raise your hand and give a stilted wave. Your eyes look sad and stressed at once, but you don't sound either, softly saying, "You too."

Derek wraps a muscled arm behind your neck, grinning while he meets Penelope's eyes. "What are we drinking tonight?"

Your eyebrows pinch up at the starts. You smile at them all despite your obvious nervousness, and it's enough for each of them to reach the same conclusion simultaneously. You're shy, but you're good. A broad sweep yet easy to make. It's obvious how much you care for Derek if you'd been willing to meet them like this when you clearly don't feel comfortable.

Luckily for you, Penelope is excellent as making people feel welcome. "We're drinking Y/N's choice. What do you like? Sugar shots? Mojitos?"

Your lips part, unprepared for a direct question so soon.

Derek turns his head to yours, giving you what Emily deems the most ridiculous puppy dog eyed smile anyone has ever given, and what Rossi knows is a ring waiting to happen. He should know.

"Let's go figure it out. Another round, from me?" he offers.

He's quick to steer you away, but not too quick to miss Rossi's, "Something strong if you want us old timers to stay!"

They wait for you to be safely out of earshot before they condense, bad gossips and worse actors off the job. "Who would've thought?" Emily asks.

"She's not what I was expecting," JJ says.

"Are we that intimidating?" Rossi asks, raising his eyebrows. The answer being yes, of course, though none of them are aware of just how scary they can be. You'd felt like you were standing in front of a pack of wolves.

"She seemed nice," Spencer says. Trust him to say something sweet. Trust the rest of Derek's friends to agree, the group nodding and humming at various pitches.

"She seemed silent," Emily jokes.

Penelope crosses her fingers and closes her eyes, earrings swinging against the blond tresses of her curled hair as she drops her head. "God, my muffin deserves nice. Please let this work out, she looks so sweet. I just wanna pinch her cheeks."

"It's gonna work out," Hotch says surely.

If Derek could hear him, he'd agree on the spot, but he's too busy praising you halfway across the room for such a stellar introduction.

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan oneshot #derek morgan scenario #derek morgan drabble #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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stellarnightstalk · 9 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞!

There was a deafening silence around the room, the type of silence where you could even hear a pin drop. The only sound you would hear was the occasional impatient tapping of your foot as you waited with an awkward smile around your face.

The man in front of you held some papers in his hands, more precisely, divorce papers. He was reading them thoroughly and slower than he should be. Your eye twitched in annoyance, you had planned what to do, what to say, and did a whole dramatic entrance just for him to be staring at those damn papers for almost 30 minutes.

You looked at the man who sat in silence before you, Cedric Ironheart, the male lead of the romance fantasy novel you were in. The truth of the matter is that what happened to you wasn't something you could speak about very lightly. Sometimes you couldn't even believe it yourself, it’s not common for you to reincarnate to a dark romance novel, at least that’s what you think.

Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, you admit that they were a bit blurry, but it kept you going.

You remember walking along the dark streets outside your apartment after quitting the job you were clearly being underpaid for. You spent the night drinking your stress away for 2 days straight, obvious dark circles started showing under your eyes. A half-emptied bottle in your left hand.

It was 2 AM, and you continued going along the side of the road, you were sick of the life you were living. You were sleep-deprived, wobbling around the streets as if you were on some sort of drug. Before you acknowledged it, you stood atop a bridge, looking down at the passing cars below you. You remember thinking to yourself, ‘Is this truly what it would come to? Plunging yourself off a bridge because you felt as if you had no purpose to live?’

You received a sudden notification on your phone. Upon checking, you saw an email about the release of a new version of a novel that you had read a year ago. You were puzzled because you hadn't remembered signing up to receive notifications about novel releases. Shortly after, you began to feel tired and weak, so you closed your eyes.

The last sensation you experienced was the embrace of the wind, and you found yourself yearning for something more, that if you had another chance to live, to live it to the best of your ability, with no regrets. For freedom.

The next you were here, in someone else's body entirely. And not just anyone's body, but the body of the main villainess from your favorite novel, “A Forbidden Love.” A slow-burn story about a blooming romance between a cold Duke and a “peasant” girl but of course, it wasn’t any normal story. The peasant was revealed to be a secret daughter that the king had, and the Duke was ordered to take custody of the girl and teach her the ways of etiquette and high society in the meantime, and so on. The same story you had gotten a notification from.

From what you remember, the male lead was Cedric, the Duke, and he was forced into an arranged marriage by his father, which was the main conflict of the story. And the person that he was married to was you, well not you but the villainess, (Y/N) Bullard. Or, (Y/N) Ironheart, the stuck-up, childish, and wicked woman who was obsessed with the duke, whose only good aspect was her alluring beauty but was overshadowed by her blackened heart. You were meant to create problems in the story to make the romance progress between the main lovers, like spilling wine onto the protagonist's dress and spreading awful rumors to destroy the protagonist's reputation. Even as far as sending a voodoo doll of the princess, as a way to curse her life.

You knew how the story ended for the villainess, all her plans ended up backfiring which made the couple grow closer. Cedric eventually divorced the villainess due to her spoiled nature, which of course made her angry. Blinded by rage, she attempted to assassinate the princess, but was quickly discovered by the male lead, which led to her demise. She was sentenced to death, being publicly executed by the man she loved the most.

After that, the novel was discontinued due to the author saying that she was unhappy with how she wrote the novel, and she felt no happiness continuing with something she did not feel proud of. There was a rumor that the author was planning to rewrite the novel and make it more “appealing” but the novel had gotten backlash due to the book being rated R. There was a lot of torture, murder, and explicit scenes, more on the villainess’s side since she was practically a psychopath.

You never liked the villainess from the start, you find yourself pitying her in some way, but her character was created for a sole purpose, for the plot, but this situation is different. You are quite literally HER, and the preferred ending is not dying, it's all very simple. You don't want to die, so you decide to cut off what is supposed to be the cause of your death. The Duke of the North, your husband. Then maybe go to the countryside, get a job that’ll keep you stable, you've been thinking about getting a cute little cottage.

That WAS originally the plan, but you’ve been stuck here for God knows how long. Does he not know how to read? You’ve taken notice that some groups in medieval times didn’t know how to. You cleared your throat, making his attention go from the papers towards you. You find yourself admiring his looks, no wonder he's a male lead, he's a handsome fella you'll give him that.

“Look, I know you want this and I want it too so let's not dilly-dally, right? All you need to do is sign right here.” You leaned forward, pointing at the empty line on the bottom right of the paper that's supposed to be filled by his signature, “And I'll be gone faster than you could say—”

“No.”

You chuckled, “I was going to say faster than you could say—” Your eyes widened. “Wait what? What do you mean no?!” You stood up from your seat, slamming your hands on the table in front of you in utter shock.

“My decision is final, your proposal of divorce has been denied. Do you need anything else?” He smoothly said, returning the divorce papers to you, crossing his legs.

Your gaze lingered on the blank papers in your hands, mouth agape. You sat down, taking a deep breath to regain your composure. Shaking your head you changed your gaze from the papers to Cedric, “Your grace, I trust that you will reconsider! I am not fit to be a Duchess, you must know where I'm coming from.” You were getting desperate, you weren't about to die here because this asshole decided not to divorce you, he hates the villainess! He doesn't want the marriage, so why is he being so stubborn?

“No, I don’t. I believe you make a great duchess.” He grabbed a cup of tea that was on his left, sipping from it calmly. “Are you perhaps feeling jealous because the king’s daughter is going to be under my watch? I guarantee that you have nothing to worry about.” He placed the finished tea cup on the saucer that was on the table. “I’ll be sure to give you as much attention as you desire.”

You noticed your eye twitching, questioning whether he was bluffing or if he was actually this egotistical. You forced a smile and explained, "I assure you that the king's daughter has no involvement in this matter. It's a decision I've been thinking for some time now and I believe it would be a positive change." That was a lie. Of course, you wanted to leave because of the king’s daughter, your life depended on it. A little alteration to the truth won’t do any harm.

You noted how he examined you with a raised eyebrow, but you held your head high.

Cedric let out a sigh. "You may have a point, but it's not up to you to make this decision." He uncrossed his legs and got up from his seat, heading in your direction. He stopped right in front of you.

He leaned down and placed his hand on your chin, making you look up. “Are you perhaps drunk again? I told your personal butler not to bring you as much whiskey anymore. I had to hide a lot of bottles.” Your eyes widened as you felt his hands on your chin, he had rough hands, but a somewhat warm gentle touch to it. Something about it felt possessive, you were confused. You don't remember something like this occurring in the novel.

You stared at him. “I assure you that I'm completely sober. I haven't even seen a bottle of whiskey, let alone drank one. Trust me, you would know,” you answered sarcastically. Cedric let out a rare chuckle at your humorous response and let go of your chin. Your fingers brushed against each other for a moment.

“I suppose you're right. You wouldn't skip an opportunity to drink your heart out, would you?" He crossed his arms and focused his attention on you. "Either way, my answer remains the same. I feel the need to inform you that the king’s daughter will be arriving in a week.”

As he walks away from you, he heads towards the door and pushes it open. However, instead of leaving, he stands there for a minute, looking back at you. You look back at him, noticing his gaze. Smiling, you fold the divorce papers into a smaller square and wave it around.

“My offer still stands, contact me if you ever want a divorce.” You declared with a forceful smile on your lips as you tucked the paper into the cleavage of your dress.

He looked down at the paper.

“I won't.” He replied, slamming the door behind him, leaving an echoing sound around the room. You were left with your thoughts, and the smile on your face turned into a scowl. A week? That seemed too far away. You needed to leave this place, fast.

Grasping the nearest pillow, you press it against your face as you scream into it, muffling your curses as you try to calm down. What did he even mean by "He won't"? That asshole!

He’s so full of himself! To think that he was your favorite character from the story. If you had the chance you’d leave a 1-star review on that godforsaken novel.

Taking a deep breath, you removed the pillow from your face and placed it next to you neatly as if nothing ever happened. Recollecting your thoughts, you tried to rationalize.

But, there is no way to get this done differently, the king's orders are absolute. So, you're kind of out of options here. You close your eyes and groan, rubbing your temple, this is a massive headache to deal with.

You can't afford to die, not when you've obviously gotten a second chance at living. This time you will live without regrets, live happily. You need to live.

It is best to avoid interfering with the two lovers and let them be. If you don't cause any problems and allow them to fall in love, he'll divorce you to be with the princess. You won't be harmed, and everyone will be able to live happily ever after. You'll live a carefree and lavish life, and you won't let anyone take it away from you. Especially not a useless marriage.

Perhaps you can find an attractive man in the countryside, he may not be as handsome as Cedric, but he will do.

You open your eyes tiredly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a fancy-looking bottle, which you presume to be the whiskey they've been hiding from the villainess. You stood up from the chair, walked towards the bottle, leaned down, and grabbed it. You examined the bottle, it read “Johnnie Walker, 1820, Old Scotch Whisky.”

You hummed, you'll save that for later, you placed it under your tighter-than-normal corset. It took you a while but it went in, hopefully, nobody will notice.

——➻

Cedric was sitting on the corner of his bed, he was lost in thought, normally he would think about his duties, the king, or anything else. But tonight he was thinking about you, you were acting different, but not in a bad way. For once, he might even say he felt attracted to you today, which is something he wouldn't be caught alive saying.

The way you spoke, felt somewhat mature. Something he had never experienced you doing before, you had always been childish, and spoiled, always finding new ways to get under his skin.

The moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew you were beautiful. There was no doubt about that, but it wasn't until now that he truly saw it. His heart raced with excitement as he realized the depth of your beauty.

The way you looked up at him as he grabbed your chin, how soft you felt. He loved how you reacted, which caused him to do the things that he did. He had never touched you before, but now, he might be a bit addicted to your touch.

He doesn’t want you to divorce him, not after today. He doesn’t get it either, but he needs you, badly.

When he grabbed your chin, you didn't pull away. Instead, you stayed there, with him. Did you feel it too? You must have.

If you hadn't, you would have pushed him away. At least that's what he thinks. No, that's what he knows.

You have him wrapped around your finger, without any explanation.

He looked at his hand, the warmth of when your fingers brushed against each other lingered. He let out a shaky breath and placed his fingers on his lips, fantasizing about how soft your hands would be in contact with his.

He clenched his fist.

“What kind of spell have you placed on me this time, my dear wife?”

from, your admirer.

credits:

neutral heart + star divider made by @cafekitsune

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sunrizef1 · 4 months

Text

What Happens in Vegas pt 14

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse

Word Count: 1.6k

Authors Note: No Charles content in this one but important nonetheless

Summary: Logan and Y/N talk, y/n finally reveals who’s been texting her

Masterlist

“Have I ever told you about my family?”

Logan doesn’t reply for a moment, annoyance still resting under his deadpan expression. You’re both sat on the floor of his drivers room, backs resting against the wall behind you, coffee from the Williams hospitality sitting in foam cups getting cold as they sit, untouched. Champagne dries on the top of your skin, casting a sticky residue onto your face and the ends of your hair.

Your win was now forgotten, the trophy having been left in your room to be picked up by a random Porsche employee who’d eventually get it back to you. Logan’s DNF was also now forgotten, although it did leave a lasting effect on his mood, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tightly.

“No, but I know your dad.”

You tilt your head, pulling the inside of your cheek between your teeth as you respond, “Well, you know him now.”

Logan doesn’t respond, not in the mood to play into your vagueness. He’d invited you here to explain. He knew you’d clarify eventually, whether he asked you to or not.

“It’s a complicated story,” you pause, bile rising to your throat at the notion of explaining your childhood and forcing you to swallow it back down, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Logan hums, obviously not planning on speaking much anyway. Both of you stare off toward the floor in front of you, unspoken words hanging in the air around you.

“I was born in France, not sure if you knew that,” you start after a moment, hesitance laced in your words, “Everyone thinks I was born in Texas but my mom would’ve rather died than let that happen.”

“You probably know my mom, Amelie Laurent, French, vogues favorite person and I guess she’s a pretty famous model,” Logan pauses for a second, no doubt not aware of who your mom was, before he nods in recognition of the name.

“When my parents had me, they were still in love, I think,” you furrow your eyebrows as the words leave your mouth, “Um, but after they had me, I guess they got really busy with their jobs and stuff so they sent me to live with my grandparents in Texas for a while.”

“Didn’t really see them much growing up. My dad took me to the paddock a lot though, I got to hang out with everyone at McLaren, which was nice.”

“But he was busy so I usually got stuck with Kimi and then eventually Lewis, when he joined, which is where the uncle Lew thing comes from. Sometimes I felt like McLaren and Mercedes raised me more than my dad did,” the end of your statement comes out in a whisper, this being the first time you’d voiced the idea.

Logan glances over as your face sours, his hand coming out to hand you your, now cold, coffee. You grasp it from him and take a sip, sliding it back down to the ground after.

“When I was 8 my parents had my brother, which I think was the final straw. They got a divorce right after and my dad moved me to England. My brother stayed in France with our mom,” you wince.

“I started karting, my grandma moved to England to take me around to races when my dad couldn’t. Despite my own… objections, I spent my summers at my moms house with her and my brother.”

You pause, stomach turning as you let out a shaky breath, memories flooding back. Logan shows his first emotion of the night, glancing over to check you're not going to die. When he confirms you're, in fact, breathing, he looks back to the floor.

“I don't think she wanted kids. Maybe she did. At one point. But I think, after the divorce, all I did was remind her of my dad, a man she hated more than anything. She made it obvious with the way she treated me, as well. Well actually, the way she treated both me and my brother.”

“She never wanted me in karting, made it clear. Only reminded her of my dad again, made me do ballet in the summers. Thought it was more proper, or whatever. Didn't let us speak English at her house either, we were only allowed French, took Juli forever to learn English correctly, he'd only grown up with her.”

“Juli?” Logan asks, adding his first bit of input since you'd started talking.

“Brother,” you mumble into your knees as you pull them into your chest, resting your tired face against them. Logan nods.

“Um, she yelled a lot, I guess. A lot of stuff about our futures and how we'd always be failures if we went through with racing and football, she didn't like that Julian only wanted to play football, either.”

“Dad didn’t know, I didn’t tell him,” you mumble, “I didn’t think there was that much wrong with it until I left.”

“She just sucked, man,” you groan, eyes shutting tight as your head falls back against the wall, “I hated her so much! Because I was winning, I was getting these championships and getting these trophies and I thought she’d finally accept that I wanted to kart but the only thing she’d tell me was that I’d never get anywhere!”

You take a deep breath, holding back the faint tears in your eyes.

“But yeah, that's the worst of it, really. Completely cut contact at 15. Begged my grandparents to let me spend summers with them. They let me.”

“It just stuck with me for a while, you know? The shit my mom would say. A lot of crap about how I was failing myself with racing or how I would never have a future if I continued down that path. Said a lot of things about how I'd always find a way to lose and that it would never be worth it if I wasn't the best. Everytime I lost a race, she would find a way to use it against me, proof that I shouldn't be racing.”

“I did block her though, couldn’t stand the constant texts when I lost. Probably wasn’t even very easy to find those results, they weren’t exactly mainstream,” you furrow your eyebrows, confusion passing over your face momentarily, “Anyway, three years later, I’m 18. I move out and sign an f3 contract. My dad got super busy with Lewis’s championships and Mercedes. Kimi was actually the first to congratulate me.”

“I haven't spoken to my mom or my brother in, what? 8 years? I've mostly forgotten them by now, paris a thing of the past,” you trail off, the air of Logan’s room suddenly feeling a lot colder.

“All this to say, um-“ you rush out, shaking your head quickly.

You finally look over toward Logan, moving your body to face his, “She texted me, in Australia. Told me that the crash was all she'd ever expected from me, anyway. She's been calling ever since.”

Logan turns his head, concern written on his face.

“I think I'd forgotten about everything she said since it's been so long. But that text kind of brought it all back. It's been stuck in my mind for every single race. That's the reason I’ve been so unfocused lately. I don’t even know how she got my number, she was blocked on my old number and then I just got a new one, I don’t know how she could’ve got it.”

Logan, having dropped his previous spite, quirks his head, “What about yesterday?”

You swallow thickly, “Julian texted me. She kicked him out. He’s staying with a teammate. He’s sixteen, Lo. He’s still a kid.”

You fall back against the wall with a thump, your hands coming up to cover your eyes, “He’s still in France, still training with PSG. He’s asked to talk to me before Monaco.”

“Monaco?”

You nod solemnly, “My least favorite race, too close to my mom. I was so relieved when they took France off the calendar, you know? I’m pretty sure that, until recently, she didn’t know I was even in F1. She’s sworn off any media that isn’t French and I chose to race under dads last name. Makes me think someone told her I was.”

Logan hums, trying to process all the information you’d just told him. Eventually, he pats you heavily on the back, groaning as he stands up. You look up as he reaches a hand down to you, questions laying in your gaze.

Logan pushes his hand further down toward you, “Seems like a good enough reason to go out, celebrate your win. We can talk heavy solutions in the morning. For now, you are a race winner. A race winner who needs to get her mind off her fucked up family.”

You grin at his words, grasping his outstretched hand and letting him pull you up, “You reacted better than Arthur did. Think he was about to throw up with me.”

Logan pauses, his face screwing up with faux betrayal, “You told Arthur before me?”

You roll your eyes, “I was having a panic attack on the floor of the bathroom, talking about it was the only thing to get me out of it.”

Logan smiles softly at your response, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you two walk out of his room, “Let’s go, winner. Who do you think the most famous person you can get to celebrate with you tonight is?”

You take a moment to think about your response, “I think I saw Kendall Jenner, I’m sure I’ll probably see her at some point.”

Logan hums, looking out ahead of both of you, “You know I’ve seen the pictures of you two in Miami last year? You were so far gone.”

You laugh, hitting him in the ribs, “Shut up. We should leave soon, Porsche has probably already started partying without us.”

Logan laughs, patting your shoulder lightly as you both go to leave the Miami paddock.

———————————————

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x fem!driver #charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 6 months

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we can’t be friends

Summary: Hazel, who has a giant crush on you, gets paired with you for a class project. She’s convinced you could never like her back because she thinks you’re straight, what happens when she’s proven wrong?

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x Fem!reader

Contains: mature language and content, hurt/comfort, smut, fingering (both receiving), oral, scissoring kinda, floor sex, loser!hazel, dom!hazel, fem!reader, sub!reader, 18+, MDNI

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: (loosely) based off the song We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande, and requested by anonymous. Requests are still open for Hazel Callahan and Kit Tanthalos! Enjoy!

———

Hazel stared at you from across the classroom, a deep longing in her eyes. Mr. G was rambling something about 9/11 and how it somehow pertained to his divorce but she wasn’t absorbing a word of his lecture. All her attention was focused on you.

PJ noticed Hazel’s obvious sense of distraction and rolled her eyes. “It’s never gonna happen, Hazel.”

Hazel’s face fell slightly as she looked down at her lap. “You don’t know that…” she mumbled.

“I do, actually. My gaydar is perfect, and she…” PJ motioned her head towards you. “…is not.”

Hazel's head shot straight up to look at PJ. “Weren’t you the one who thought Brittany was gay?”

PJ scoffed. “Ok? So my gaydar had a malfunction. It’s fine now, and trust me. You do not occupy that pretty little head of hers.” She shot a pointed look at Hazel. “She doesn’t want you. She wants a boyfriend. With a penis.”

A sad puppy dog look covered Hazel’s face as she turned back to look at you. You certainly did have a pretty little head, with long silky hair falling over your shoulders, perfectly framing your face. Maybe it was because Hazel had little to no experience with makeup, but she always thought yours was flawless, with your eyeshadow consistently color coordinated with your outfits. Today it was hot pink to match your miniskirt and pink pumps, paired with fishnets and a black tank top with writing on it that Hazel couldn’t quite make out.

You took a break from taking notes to reach into your backpack and find your lipgloss, carefully reapplying a layer. A dopey smile formed on Hazel’s face as she watched the sparkly pink solution trace your lips, wondering how it would taste against her own. PJ rolled her eyes once again. “Get over it, Hazel.”

Before Hazel could even open her mouth to respond, the sound of Mr. G’s voice echoed across the room, turning everyone’s attention to the front. He was going on about some new partner project, Hazel could barely focus. She soon, however, perked up when he mentioned your name.

“You’re partnered with Hazel.” He finished.

Hazel’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned to look at you, and you met her gaze with a bright smile. She offered an awkward nod back, and quickly looked away.

Mr. G soon finished with the list of partners and the bell rang to signify the end of class. PJ walked out with Josie, who could be heard panicking over being partnered with Isabel. Hazel was packing up her stuff for her next class when she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. She looked up to see you standing over her desk, a glossy grin spread across your face. “Hey Hazel.”

Hazel tried to swallow, but found her mouth was completely dry. She managed to squeak out a low “…hey.”

“Looks like we’re partners for this assignment. I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to work on it after school? Today?” You brushed a lock of hair out of your face, making Hazel wish she could do it for you.

She licked her dry lips and nodded enthusiastically. “Sure.”

You pressed your phone into Hazel’s shaking hands and you both exchanged numbers before “bye’s” and “see you later’s.” Throughout the rest of the day, it was agreed over text that you would meet at your locker after school before heading to Hazel’s house to work on the project. You had originally suggested your place, but after Hazel mentioned her mom being out of town on business, you were all for meeting at her’s instead.

When the last bell rang, Hazel ran to the bathroom and spent fifteen minutes fussing over her hair, trying to get it to swoop just the right way. Unfortunately, PJ’s voice saying “she’s not gay, it’s never gonna happen” rang through her head. After deciding it just wasn’t worth it then, she gave up and dejectedly made her way over to your locker.

You were already there waiting for her, and seeing you lean against your locker in the empty hallway made Hazel’s heart flutter. You looked just as perfect as you had earlier today (except Hazel could’ve sworn you had pulled your black tank top just a little farther down). You noticed her approaching you, and flashed her a bright smile.

“Hey Hazel, ready to go?” You asked. Hazel nodded. “Sure.”

“Great! I’m excited to be paired with you. I’m sure after this project we’ll become great friends.” You lifted your hand to squeeze Hazel’s upper arm, but she couldn’t feel it over the pang in her chest. Your words swam around in her mind.

“Great friends…” she didn’t want to be your friend. She wanted to be more. She wanted to be the one to laugh with you, and hold you when you cried. She wanted to take you out on dates, and slow dance with you at prom. She wanted you to look up at her with your big doe eyes right before you kiss her, and wrap your arms around her shoulders to pull her closer while she savored the taste of your signature lip gloss. She wanted to touch you. God how she wanted to touch you…

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do any of that. Not if you were too busy making goo-goo eyes at some football player.

You wanted to be friends. Hazel wanted you… but more than anything she wanted you in her life. If being friends was the only way to do that, then so be it.

—————

The drive to Hazel’s house was pretty much silent, minus a few attempts at small talk from you. Hazel made a few attempts to respond, but mainly kept her focus on the grip of her steering wheel and the road ahead.

Hazel turned into her driveway, and walked you through her front door, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She motioned for you to sit next to her on the floor, and got out her pencils and the project rubric. After about five minutes of complete silence, Hazel’s head shot up. “Snacks!”

You looked up from the rubric in confusion. “What?”

“Snacks! I forgot to offer you snacks when we came in. Shit, I’m sorry! I’m a terrible host.” Hazel panicked. You had to stifle a giggle under your hand. Somehow, Hazel was being so adorable right now.

“It’s ok, Hazel. I’m not hungry. I promise.” Hazel rubbed the back of her neck as a faint shade of red crept up on her cheeks.

“Sorry. You just…” Hazel trailed off. You cocked your head in question. “I… what?”

“You just… sometimes you make me nervous…” Hazel mumbled, staring down at her lap.

Your lips parted slightly in shock at her confession. “I make you nervous?”

“Look… just forget I said anything.” Hazel picked the project rubric back up. “So, do you have any idea what this project is supposed to be on? I wasn’t really paying attention…”

You pulled the rubric out of Hazel’s hands and tossed it to the side, forcing her to look at you. “I’m not gonna forget what you said. Hazel, how do I make you nervous?”

A defeated sigh left Hazel’s lips as she realized you weren’t going to give this up. She squeezed her eyes shut, choking out your name before her next words. “I’m sorry but… we can’t be friends.”

It took a moment for you to process Hazel’s words, but as soon as you did, your face crumpled out of hurt. You were trying not to cry, but you couldn’t decide if it was from hurt or confusion. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t be friends.” Hazel repeated, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Whenever I’m around you, my hands get all sweaty and my mouth gets dry, and I can barely get any words out because… I don’t know. You do this thing to me. I can’t focus in class because all I can think about is how pretty you are and what flavor your lip gloss is and…”

Hazel’s incessant rambling was interrupted by the feeling of something wet and sticky against her cheek. She blinked, trying to process what just happened.

You kissed her. On the cheek.

A faint blush crept onto her face as she lifted her hand to feel where your kiss still lingered. She finally met your gaze to see you staring back at her, a giddy smile covering your face.

“You kissed me.”

You brushed another lock out of your face and smiled down at your lap. “Yeah. I did.”

“But I’m not a boy.”

You shot your head up and gaped at her, bewildered. Did you hear her correctly?

“Huh? I know…” you trailed off as realization set into you. “You think I’m straight?”

“Well, yeah. You’re all like… feminine and stuff…” Hazel mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

A thick silence filled the room as you stared at her, wide eyed. Hazel held her breath and refused to look at you. She thought for sure she fucked up before she heard… laughter?

Hazel looked up to see you in absolute stitches from laughing so hard. On one hand, she was glad you didn’t seem mad at her, but on the other… she really had no idea what you were laughing at.

After a moment, you calmed down, and stuck out one of your wrists to show Hazel a pink, white, and orange threaded bracelet. “Trust me, I’m not straight. And this…” you gestured to your outfit. “…is called hyperfem, and it’s actually meant to deter the male population.”

Several thoughts swirled around Hazel’s mind. Some “fuck PJ” or “how did I not notice the bracelet?” But mostly, all she could think about was how you were sitting in front of her, out and proud, in an empty house, and beaming from ear to ear.

You giggled at Hazel’s astonished expression and looked down at your lap. “I was kind of wondering why you had never talked to me before. Guess I know now.”

Hazel gulped. “I’m sorry, I…”

Suddenly, you decided to cut her off by tossing all the papers between you to the side, and crawling over to her lap. You put one hand on her knee and brought your face as close to hers as you could without touching. Hazel’s breath hitched at this new position, and you hummed as your eyes dropped to her lips. “Now that you know I’m gay… what do you plan to do about it?”

It took a moment for your words to settle into Hazel’s mind, but as soon as they did, she brought her face forward and kissed you, melting instantly at your touch. Her stomach filled with butterflies as she shivered from the pure adrenaline. She couldn’t believe how soft your lips were, and the taste of your lipgloss felt absolutely intoxicating.

You pulled away suddenly, smirking as Hazel whined at the loss of your touch. “So… what flavor is my lip gloss?”

Hazel hummed in thought, running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. “Watermelon?”

“Bingo.”

A devilish grin spread across Hazel’s face before she grabbed your jaw and pulled you back in, forcing you to tuck your knee into her lap to keep balance. Her tongue danced against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. A small giggle escaped from the back of your throat as you parted your lips and let her deepen the kiss.

Hazel’s hand left your jaw and slowly made its way down to gently caress the thigh you still had perched in her lap. You felt your body shiver at this new sensation, causing Hazel to pull away and survey your reaction.

“Is this ok?” She asked in a low voice. You nodded, your half-lidded eyes clouded with lust. “Please.”

Hazel caught your lips in hers again, and gripped at your fishnet-clad thigh. You moaned at the feeling of her fingertips caressing your nearly-bare skin. You had no idea your thighs could be so sensitive, but here you were, falling apart at her literal fingertips.

By now you were mentally begging Hazel to push her hand up just a little higher, so you grabbed the chain around her neck and pulled her close until you were on your back and she was hovering over you. Her big blue eyes looked like pools you were dying to swim in as she peered down at you with a look of nothing but content.

You dragged your top teeth against your bottom lip and giggled. “Tell me again how pretty I am?”

Hazel smirked as she continued to rub her thumb along the inside of your thigh. “So pretty. Like a princess.”

Your body involuntarily shivered at this new nickname, and Hazel found it impossible not to notice. “Oh, you like that? Princess?”

A muffled moan vibrated against your puffy pink lips in response. Fuck, when did Hazel get so… dominant?

She ran her hand just under the edge of your tank top, looking up at you for approval. You nodded, and she got to work pulling it up and over your head, leaving your stomach exposed and your chest covered with nothing but a black lace bralette. Hazel gulped at the sight of you, her spontaneous dominance momentarily leaving her. She swore she had never seen anything this beautiful. She leaned down again to kiss you once, softly and sweetly, before slowly leaving a trail of kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and down to the top of your breasts.

Hazel’s big blue eyes stared up at you as she ran her tongue across the top of one of your tits, gently testing the waters. You let out a gentle moan, purely from the eroticism of it all. You swore you could cum just from looking into Hazel’s fuck me eyes.

“Hazel,” you breathed out, sitting up slightly to lean on your elbows. “You can take it off.”

A nervous look clouded Hazel’s features for a brief moment before being replaced by one dark with desire. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

God, you could feel yourself get wetter every time she used that stupid nickname.

Getting your bra off wasn’t necessarily a fast and flawless task for Hazel, as she was used to the simplicity of sports bras rather than the confusing clasps of a bralette. Luckily, you both had a good sense of humor about it, which made the situation far less awkward. Eventually, Hazel opted to just pull it over your head like a t-shirt, tossing it over her shoulder immediately after.

Hazel never thought she’d see the day where she’d have the Popular Princess of Rockbridge High’s tits practically served to her on a silver platter, but here they were, exposed in all their glory, and hers for the taking. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, running her tongue along the erect bud as she used her hand to gently massage the other. It felt incredible, but as much as you loved watching Hazel Callahan play with your tits, there was another part of you that was much more desperate to be played with.

Your hips involuntarily bucked against Hazel’s stomach, forcing her to pull away and click her tongue disapprovingly. “So impatient. Never took you for a sub.”

“Never took you for a dom.” You fired back, surprisingly quickly considering how mushy your brain felt.

Hazel simply shrugged and flashed a wicked grin. “Guess you do something to me.”

She slipped one hand down to the waistband of your skirt and started to undo your belt buckle until it was loose enough for her to slide it down your legs. Her fingers danced along your now completely exposed fishnets while she plucked at the delicate little strings.

“Funny,” she started, gently pulling at the thin threads. “If you weren’t wearing anything under these, I would totally keep them on while I fucked you.”

Her blunt choice of words sent palpitations straight to your clit, forcing a shiver down the length of your entire body. She either didn’t notice or pretended not to because she just shrugged. “Too bad you are. Gotta take them off.”

In a way, you were grateful for the black panties you had worn under your fishnets. Watching Hazel undress you to any capacity was a bigger turn on than anything any porn site had to offer. You made a mental note to wear more clothes next time.

By now you were down to nothing but the aforementioned silky black panties. Hazel moved her hand back to your thigh, rubbing her thumb along the inside teasingly. She reached up and allowed her finger to gently brush over the tiny crease where your leg ended and your panties began, looking up at you for affirmation before continuing.

You sighed, rolling your bottom lip between your front teeth. “Please Hazel. Please touch me.”

Hazel’s stomach couldn’t help but flutter every time one of your desperate pleas hit her ears, but she tried not to let it show. Still, it was difficult to ignore the dampness in her boxers, thankfully still hidden by her shorts. On the other hand, your panties were on full display, the black color managing to hide your wet spot from Hazel’s vision, but failing to keep your secret when she dragged her finger up your clothed cunt.

“Holy shit.” Hazel muttered under her breath. “So fucking wet already?”

You were far too turned on to even begin to respond to her taunts, opting instead to raise your hips and signify Hazel to take off your panties. Hazel, however, had other plans. She continued to stroke the length of your covered cunt, enjoying watching your hips stutter every time she so much as grazed your clit.

As much as you loved the cloth friction rubbing against your slit, the growing pool of wetness that resulted was beginning to make you feel suffocated. You lifted your hips to chase her touch, moaning with desperation. Hazel smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Patience, pretty girl. I can’t do anything until you tell me what you want.”

Hazel’s finger picked at the waistband of your panties, while her darkened eyes stared down at you. You struggled to speak, your brain far too mushy to form a complete sentence. How in the hell were you this fucked out, and Hazel had barely touched you?

“P-please Haze… I need you mph… take them off…”

Another wicked grin appeared on Hazel's face as she leaned down again to praise your obedience. “Such a good girl.”

Her mouth latched onto your jaw as her fingers curled over the top of your waistband. You raised your hips, and Hazel pulled off your panties in one quick motion.

Now that you were completely exposed, you felt completely exposed, which wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable feeling. Your legs began to shut involuntarily, catching the attention of the girl hovered above you.

Her eyes went wide as she crawled off of you and put her hands up. “Hey, woah, are you ok? Do you wanna stop? I’m sorry! I should have checked in more. We can stop if you want. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Hazel’s sudden transition out of her dominant alter ego caught you off guard. Still though, you couldn’t help but melt a little. She was being so sweet, making sure you were ok, you almost felt a little bad for her. You didn’t mean to freak her out.

You sheepishly smiled up at her, a little embarrassed. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just a little weird being the only one naked is all.”

Hazel blinked at you, processing your words. Almost like a lightbulb went off in her head, she jumped up and practically tore all the clothing off her body, throwing each piece over her shoulder as soon as it was off. You couldn’t help but notice a string of arousal momentarily connecting her slick to her boxers, breaking only after she slid them down her legs.

Hazel’s body read like a painting, with each brush stroke precisely positioned to perfect the masterpiece. Her wetness glistened from in between her legs, and you couldn’t help but admire the beauty standing before you. However, you didn’t get to admire for long, as Hazel was already repositioning herself over you.

“Better?” She asked.

You sighed. “Definitely.”

Hazel immediately got to work trailing kisses down your body while thumbing through the folds of your slit. Soft moans echoed from your lips every time she’d slightly dip into your entrance for some more lubricant, and then frustrated groans would roll out whenever she immediately pulled out. God, she had access to every part of you and still managed to be such a tease.

Eventually, Hazel kissed her way down to your pelvic bone, hovering her face just over where you wanted her the most. Her hot breath tickled your dripping wet folds, making you tremble with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and gently kitten-licked your clit to gauge your reaction, staring up at you as she did. A soft whimper left your throat, causing a smug smirk to form on Hazel’s face. Starting to gain some confidence back, she locked eyes with you and slowly licked up the entire length of your cunt, from your entrance all the way to the hood of your clit. You whined, throwing your head back against the carpet.

“Feel good?” Hazel asked, not bothering to wait for your response as she already knew the answer.

Hazel dived into you like a starved woman, lapping up your slick like it contained the very thing she needed to survive. Broken moans fell from your parted lips as you desperately grasped at her hair, trying to keep her exactly where you wanted her. Your hips bucked against her face, a part of you dying to see her features covered in your juices.

Her name found its way out of your mouth, almost involuntarily. “Hazel I… mph… fuck…”

“Fuck yeah. I love it when you say my name, pretty girl.” Hazel exclaimed, eyes rolling in the back of her head. You groaned. Dominant Hazel could have very easily put you into cardiac arrest, you were pretty sure.

The feeling of Hazel’s tongue against your engorged clit was hypnotizing, but your entrance was also twitching for attention. You wanted, no, you needed her inside you.

You grabbed Hazel’s hair and pulled it to lift her off you. She started to whine at the loss of your taste, but quickly looked up at you to make sure you were alright. “Everything ok, princess?”

“Hazel, I… I wanna ride your fingers. Please.” You panted breathlessly.

Hazel’s body shifted at your bold choice of words before a dark desire clouded her face again. “Of course.”

She reached up and crashed her lips against yours again, the taste of your own pussy still lingering on her tongue and coating your mouth in the most arousing way. You both readjusted to where she was on her back and you were now hovering over top of her. She adjusted her right hand in the “come here” position with her middle and ring fingers standing, and rested it in the middle of her thigh.

“All yours, honey.” She looked up at you with a goofy smile and half lidded eyes.

You positioned your entrance over her fingertips, shifting slightly before sliding down onto her knuckles. Hazel's fingers curled to hit your g-spot, forcing your head to fall back with a throaty groan.

“Feel good, gorgeous?” Another one of Hazel’s praises fell from her lips.

“Fuck Hazel, those nicknames are gonna kill me…” you whined.

Hazel smirked. “Oh yeah, you like that? Gorgeous? Pretty girl? My princess?”

As you were drinking in Hazel’s sweet nothings and riding her long fingers, your eyes fell down to her lap. Her exposed cunt glistened with her own arousal, dripping down her thighs and onto your carpet. A wicked idea popped into your head, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

Your hand traveled down to the folds of Hazel's slick, forcing the brunette beauty underneath you to jump at the sudden touch. “Honey, what are you…”

“Is this ok?” You asked softly. Hazel nodded quickly, realizing what you were getting at. You hastily licked your fingers and slid them into her twitching cunt.

Hazel moaned at the feeling of your fingers inside her. “Fuck, baby. Feels so good. So good to me.”

The longer you bounced on Hazel’s hand, the more you felt that familiar tight feeling in your abdomen. “Hazel, I’m…”

“Yeah… mph… me too.” She managed to whisper under her breath.

Hazel positioned her thumb to rub against your clit, forcing your body to tremble in sputtered shocks. You curled your palm to stimulate her clit, and you could tell she was almost as close as you were.

“Hazel, can we… mph… cum together?” You asked, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The brunette underneath you was already starting to fall apart. “Fuck baby… so close… let go… I’ll follow… yeah?”

You rolled your hips against her, using your free hand to position her wrist where you needed her to touch you. Your hips sputtered, your core tightened, your clit throbbed. “Hazel, I… mph fUCK!”

Your head rolled back as you let out a sound so primal, you weren’t even sure it was sexy. Hazel soon followed, her groans and whimpers reverberating around the room as her hips sputtered under you. You rode out your climaxes together, the erotic sounds of sex disappearing into the nearly empty house.

Hazel couldn’t believe it. Not only was her longtime crush gay, not only was she fucking you, but she had just given you a mind-blowing orgasm at the same time you gave her one. Fuck, the very thought almost made her cum a second time.

You rolled off of her, and snuggled into her chest while she wrapped her arm around you. “Wow…”

“That was… unexpected…” Hazel muttered breathlessly.

You giggled. “Yeah, no kidding.”

A comfortable silence filled the room, both of you just enjoying the presence of the other, the project from before long forgotten.

You looked up at her, planting a soft kiss on her jaw. “Still think we can’t be friends?”

“I think we’re a little more than friends now.” Hazel chuckled.

Your heart fluttered at her suggestion. “Yeah? You want to?”

“I mean, yeah, if you want to.”

You nodded, snuggling back into her chest, close to falling asleep after so much activity. Hazel continued to stare up at the ceiling, a goofy grin plastered across her features.

“PJ is gonna lose her mind after this.”

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x reader smut #kit tanthalos #ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #sapphic #fanfic #hurt/comfort

815 notes · View notes

songmingisthighs · 29 days

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Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. v

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 5.2 k

warning : adultery, cheating, negative depiction of wooyoung, name calling, (y/n) finally growing a damn spine frfr

a/n : i'm finally updating this oh my god has it been so damn long I am saw sawrey for skipping updating in july. let's hope I can update twice on September or just not forget to update in september lmaoooooo i

buy me coffee ?

Ever since that day at the hospital, you felt like you've been living your life on autopilot. Scratch that, it felt like you were just watching your life happening like a movie. You couldn't quite feel anything and it was as if life's choices were already made for you.

Oh yeah. Choices.

As if that word meant anything to you.

You were reluctant to go back to see Wooyoung at the hospital as he had once again been put on a 24-hour observation period because he had exhibited signs of mental distraught on top of his back pain. Ironic. Your plan was to pack some of his shit up, throw it at him and tell him that he could finally go live with his whore and just make an exit from his life and maybe for once you could work your children into your decision instead of it going the other way.

But of course, life had a different plan because the devils must be making snowmen in hell.

Once your children were made aware of the situation their father was in (all thanks to San, one of Wooyoung's partners who struck up a conversation with Dayoung when he came by the house to drop off some things Wooyoung had requested from earlier in the morning), they immediately asked to be taken to him. At that moment you wanted to tell them that it wouldn't be possible since you and Wooyoung were splitting or separating or whatever the correct term was. But seeing their distraught face and hearing them beg you broke your heart, it was obvious that you couldn't break their hearts at that moment. So you relented, you took them to the hospital the next day, allowing them to skip school against your better judgment. You can see how stereotypes about children being spoiled after their parents divorced came to be.

Wooyoung was honestly surprised to see you through his door. He had thought that you would never show your face again but there you stood in front of him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. But before he could say anything (nothing you wanted to hear anyway), you raised a hand and told him the situation, including the fact that your children knew nothing and that you weren't planning on telling them until the two of you could sit them down together and have a proper discussion when the time is right, so until then, you promised to remain civil as long as he promised to do the same and also not involve his affair partner with their children yet. Wooyoung attempted to protest because he felt like he needed to let you know that he was well on his way to breaking up with her before the incident and he had even told her to not come to the hospital and to not visit him at all. Unfortunately, you didn't want to hear what he had to say and you simply opened the door to let your children in, rushing to their father with tears in their eyes from being so worried.

During the whole visit, you stayed in the far corner, looking at your children interacting with their father for a good hour before you suddenly left the room. You came back with one of Wooyoung's gigantic Prada travel bags, plopping it on his bed before instructing your children that their dad needed to rest. They had attempted to bargain with you, telling you that they weren't going to school anyway so it wouldn't hurt if they were to stay and take care of their father. It astounded you that Wooyoung had the audacity to tell them that they'd have plenty of time with him when he come home. It was one of the rare times your anger took over you but you let slip that Wooyoung would not come home with you. You immediately regretted saying that.

"What do you mean dad's not coming home with us? He's sick, mom," Dayoung scoffed, tightening her grip on Wooyoung's arm angrily. Still, you stood your ground, "I... Am not equipped to care for a sick man. He hurt his back again after three weeks of me taking care of him so obviously someone else could take care of him," you cleverly took a jab at the bitch he had been with and Wooyoung was well aware of it as seen from the way his face grew red and his eyes started to well up with tears. Unfortunately for you, Woohyun saw this and he immediately climbed up to his dad's bed, frantically wiping his tears, "Daddy don't cry!" he whimpered, and he too started tearing up seeing his dad with tears in his eyes and seeing how much his son loved him, Wooyoung started crying as well, overwhelmed from the way his children cared for him which pushed his guilt into its maximum level because he had finally realized the other people he had hurt with his inexcusable decision.

You were very much aware of why Wooyoung was crying and again, you couldn't help but let your feelings overtook you as you rolled your eyes. Dayoung, seeing you reacting the way you did, took a big offence since she had clearly seen you with Yunho and based off of the wrong conclusion she drew, she took your behaviour as you trying to leave Wooyoung for his own friend. But of course, she couldn't reveal her knowledge just yet.

"Mom, how could you be so cruel?" she spat, "I swear, if something happens to dad because you wouldn't take him in because you're so selfish, I will never forgive you," she declared.

And that was how you ended up spending the next 4 days sleeping on the couch with Wooyoung sleeping in your bed. The man who broke your heart slowly started to break your back in a new way, a way unlike he had done a long time ago. The time when you both were still in love. The time when it was all still good.

"Thank you."

A voice broke you out of your trance and when you looked around, you saw Wooyoung leaning against the bathroom door, looking somewhat bashfully at the floor before his eyes moved to yours from the mirror. Unfortunately for him, you immediately shifted your gaze to the pile of towels you were folding and storing into the cabinet.

"For letting me stay here," he finished, offering you a small smile as a gesture of goodwill as if you were expecting him to thank you. You'd very much like to say that his gesture meant nothing to you and that you no longer felt anything for him. What's more infuriating was the smile he gave you was still the mirror image of the boyish grin that managed to charm you into trying yourself to him, it was the same boyish grin that made your stomach flutter even at that moment, despite him hurting you and betraying you. You hated it. You hated him for making you feel like that and you hated yourself for letting yourself feel like that.

You cleared your throat, willing yourself to hold your emotions at bay despite feeling like breaking down out of sadness and frustration. "Don't thank me, Wooyoung," Wooyoung felt his stomach drop from the way you called his name out and it instinctively made him swallow the lump in his throat, "If you must thank anyone, thank your children. Particularly your daughter whom I'd have to admit is quite the master extortionist and manipulator, I'd wonder more about where she inherited those traits if I'm not more concerned that she has what it takes to be a politician one day," you said, avoiding looking at Wooyoung with absolute determination which hurt him but he had to admit he absolutely deserved. But he didn't want to push his pity party on you so he swallowed his feelings and stepped into the bathroom, "You... I don't think the couch would be a very comfortable place to sleep in and you've been at it for four days so," you cut him off with a scoff, "I can say with absolute confidence that the couch was very uncomfortable for several good night's rest, especially considering the fact that after the torture, I still have to cater to your children and also you." That time you really wanted to drive in the hostility to let him know that you definitely did not let him stay out of the goodness of your heart. "Well you could've joined me in our bed," he sighed, saying the words as if he didn't know what he was saying and the gravity of it all.

But if he was oblivious to his words then the glare you gave him once you turned around conveyed all the feelings you reserved for him. "You know damn well why I couldn't have, Wooyoung," you spat, shoving the towels into the cabinet harshly as you sped up your work so you could get out of the room faster. "We might be fighting and all, (y/n) but if it's costing you your rest and your wellbeing then-" "Fighting? You think we're-" You held yourself from screaming at him and pushed past him to peek outside, wanting to make sure that neither one of your kids were nearby to hear the conversation. Wooyoung took this as you leaving the room to not talk to him so he was surprised when you turned back to push him inside the bathroom, this time with you near the door.

"Get this into your head, Wooyoung, we didn't fight, we didn't have a disagreement, it wasn't a misunderstanding between us, you fucking CHEATED on me with the first doe-eyed slut bitch who was willing to open her legs and break up a family probably because she was just so stupid and deluded enough to think that she could make her own family with you, so no, I couldn't share that bed or other beds or any other surface where one could rest on with you because you have ruined me, Wooyoung, you have ruined our marriage, and you have ruined my inner peace so all you could do now is get the fuck better so I can either kick you out or leave without being manipulated by anyone just because you're physically injured when I'm absolutely dead. You killed me, you killed my soul. You and that whore." you spat before turning and leaving him in the bathroom as quickly as you could so he couldn't stop you. Tears were brimming in his eyes as he let the words you hurled at him pierce his heart but he couldn't even complain. After all, he hurt you a million times worse so he had no excuse for himself.

You rushed to the kitchen, the only place you could think of to cool down and not just because you downed a tall glass of iced water that did nothing for your anguish. To make things worse, as you were still trying to calm yourself, your daughter came strolling in on her phone, being absolutely clueless over your distress.

"Hey Mom, can we order that soup from that place Dad likes for dinner? He seems rather down and y'know... Flimsy lately, I just want him to get his strength back."

Oh, how you wanted to ask her why she cared so much for her dad but she couldn't spare common decency to you. By all means you were not a vindictive person nor were you petty. But God, at that moment you wanted to turn around and ask her, "What about me? What about what I like? What about what I need? What about how I've been broken for months now because your father is a cheating son of a bitch?" Unfortunately, you were not your husband. You were not selfish. You were too good even to those who had betrayed you and then some.

"Mom?" She called, an eyebrow raised along with her face from her phone when she didn't hear you answer her. Sighing, you immediately gather yourself to make your leave quickly, "We can talk about this later, I need to pick up Woohyun from the Academy, his class is ending soon."

Dayoung didn't find that answer acceptable so she pressed, "No way, you'll be gone for a while and if we 'talk' about it later, Dad would have to wait to eat and that would be bad for someone who's sick!" "I really can't talk right now sweetie, I promise I just need to go now," you said, turning around to make your leave only to see Dayoung in your way, glaring at you. "Why are you rushing to go to the Academy?" It was such a confusing question because while the answer is easy and you were sure she even knew but her tone made it seem like she was alluding to another meaning. You opened your mouth to answer but she beat you to it, "Who are you rushing to see, Mom? Is it Uncle Yunho? Are you rushing so you could spend more time with him? Perhaps you're hoping to get more hugs from him or maybe something more?" The accusation dropped on you like a thousand tons and your jaw slacked from surprise, "Mind your tone, young lady. What are you trying to say?" "I saw you and Uncle Yunho hugging in front of our house. Mind telling me what all of that was?"

In your daughter, you saw a glimpse of your husband and it infuriated you. Her defiance, her stubbornness, her instinct to pursue the truth. While all of that might be good in life when applied properly, you couldn't help but be sure that your girl had crossed a line with you.

"I don't need to talk to you about that and you don't need to know more than the fact that it was nothing, it was between me and my friend and your tone is disrespectful so I would suggest you drop this attitude RIGHT NOW," you didn't mean to sound so harsh and you felt bad when Dayoung's bottom lip quivered before she dashed out of the kitchen, going God knows where. A tired sigh escaped your lips, you truly were under a lot of pressure and even though you were stressed, even though you were emotional, you shouldn't have snapped at your daughter like that. You knew you had to make it up to her but at that moment, you really do need to go get Woohyun so you simply grabbed your bag and your keys and left the house.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung jumped slightly when Dayoung came barging into his room, huffy and her face all red. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion seeing her in such a state. "Dayoung, what ha-" "How do you stand her?" she asked, cutting Wooyoung off. "What?" "How can you stand Mom? She's such a bitch," she hissed, wiping the tears off her cheek.

Wooyoung was taken aback at the language Dayoung used to describe you. "Hey, don't talk about your mother like that," Wooyoung scolded, voice firm and he stood up from his bed, "I didn't raise you to use such language on your mom." "But she IS a bitch!" Dayoung screeched, "You don't know what she's been doing behind your back, Dad. God, she's so manipulative, you don't even know!" Wooyoung felt his body vibrate with anger because he couldn't let his own daughter talk about you like that. "You drop this, Jung Dayoung, you drop this right now because you don't know what you're talking about and I'm not willing to listen to you talk smack about your own mother," he warned in a low voice. Usually, when Wooyoung spoke to her like this, Dayoung would drop it and say sorry, wanting to go back to her dad's good graces. But not this time, not when she felt that her father had been wronged by you. "Oh Dad, believe me, I know A LOT of stuff. For example, I know that there is stuff going on between Mom and Uncle Yunho," Dayoung said pointedly.

There was something that was like a tug on his heart hearing your name and Yunho's in a sentence that was put in such a way. But he knew that you were not like that and his daughter shouldn't talk about her own mom like that. "Jung Dayoung, I'm warning you, drop this right now," he sternly said. Despite seeing the seriousness in her dad's eyes, Dayoung pressed on, "You don't think I noticed that there's something going on between you two this past couple of months? The tension is palpable and don't even get me started on Mom sleeping on the couch and saying that it was because you needed the space to heal. WAKE UP DAD, MOM'S CHEATING ON YOU!" she yelled out.

"SHE COULDN'T BE CHEATING ON ME BECAUSE I WAS THE ONE WHO CHEATED ON HER!" Wooyoung yelled louder, causing Dayoung to jump back in shock not just because of his volume but also because of the information Wooyoung just revealed. The moment the words left Wooyoung's mouth, it felt like cold water was splashed on him. Harshly. But he couldn't take it back, he couldn't go back from this.

"I... Cheated on your mother... And then she found out. She told me she found out that day I got hurt because..." Wooyoung paused, suddenly deciding that he shouldn't tell Dayoung that he was with his side piece when you found out. Not that it helped because Wooyoung's sudden reluctance to finish his sentence was a dead giveaway. "I was the asshole in this situation and (y/n)- your mother has been sleeping on the couch because she couldn't bear sharing a bed with me but you and Woohyun had asked me to stay so she held it in. She did what she was asked and she did it despite her own personal apprehension. She loves you so much that she'd rather suffer silently rather than disappointing you and Woohyun." The more Wooyoung spoke of your action and about your altruism, the more he realized how much he fucked up by cheating on you. He had gotten everything he wanted from you, heck you put it on a silver, golden, platinum platter stacked over one another and when it got hard for you, when you needed him the most, he took your kindness and love for granted and pursued the suddenly missing 5% from you. He hated himself. And by the look Dayoung gave, it seem like he isn't the only one.

For the first time ever, Dayoung looked at her father with such hurt and disappointment that even Wooyoung could taste the hatred on his tongue.

"So your mother doesn't deserve to be called a bitch because she is far from one. She's a saint for putting you, me, and Woohyun over her own self so you will show her the respect she deserves. The respect we all owe her," he stated firmly but his voice shook around the part about you deserving respect. Wooyoung was sure that no one could think of him lower than he already thought of himself. Though people could easily conduct a poll.

With chest heaving, Dayoung took a step back, then another, then another until she reached the door and her hand reached for the handle, "Don't talk to me like that, I am nothing like you in this equation." As if she couldn't bear another second with her father, Dayoung left the room the same way she came in, by slamming the door. Wooyoung had braced himself to receive backlash but to hear his own daughter harshly stating how she was not like her father truly hurt him. But it was all deserved and he couldn't even complain.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It would appear that the day had been kinder to you than expected because you had planned on postponing coming home late by allowing Woohyun to take his time packing his stuff or taking him out to dinner and maybe get some dinner for Wooyoung and Dayoung at another place. Maybe another city. But as it appears, Woohyun's class ran longer than expected since they had a special guest teacher who came in from another country. Hearing this, you were about to leave the premises to wait in your car or go to a convenience store when you heard Seonghwa, one of Wooyoung's former dance crew mates turned business partner and teacher of the academy, called you up.

"Hey (y/n), how's it going?" He asked, beaming with happiness. Pissed that your friend cheated on me with one of your staff, you thought, "Good, Seonghwa. How are you? How's dating life?" you teased which made him roll his eyes, "Oh shut up, I should have settled down in my late 20s like you told me to. The girls who approach me only approach me because they have daddy issues and I don't know what to do with that information." Still better than my marriage I'd guess, you snarkily added in your head. "I was just about to step out for a bit until Woohyun finished his class, so..." You trailed off, trying to give him the hint that you were trying to get away but it simply went over his head. "Actually, I have some things for Wooyoung to look over, I know he's supposed to be back soon but these are just a couple of plans, budget details, and meeting minutes he can look over to catch up. I was planning to give it myself later tonight but since you're here, would it be okay for me to ask you to give them to him?" he smiled a bit too gleefully for your taste because you were in such a bad state. But you couldn't fault his nonchalance as he was not aware of the situation happening at home. So you nodded at Seonghwa, returning his smile though it wasn't half as genuine as his, "Sure, you can give it to me." "Great, thanks! Wait here, I'll go to the office and get them for you!" Seonghwa then jogged in the direction of the joint office in the back, leaving you at the waiting area where the receptionist is and also other students with their friends and some younger ones with their parents.

"Mrs. Jung?"

That voice froze you not just because you were surprised, but also because that voice was the one voice you didn't want to hear calling for you.

"Mrs. Jung!" Harin called before she jogged over to stand next to you, "Hello, it's nice seeing you again!" she smiled cheerfully which made you want to slap her face as hard as you could but you kept your composure. Even if the inner side of your cheek took the brunt to the point of nearly bleeding. You mustered all of the patience in your body to hum in acknowledgment and gave her the most neutral, polite smile you could give. "A-are you here alone? What are you doing at the Academy?" she asked. What bitch, you were hoping that Wooyoung's here too? And this is his academy that his kids have been part of since before you came here two years ago, I'm welcomed here unlike you in my fucking marriage. "Woohyun," you simply said before you averted your gaze, purposefully turning around in hopes that she'll get the hint and leave you before you maul her like a rabid cat. "I like Woohyun, he's so nice to me," Harin chuckled a bit too innocently for your liking due to the insinuation and the situation, "He always calls me pretty and compliments me. Of course, he's just a generally nice kid because even the other dancers like him. And of course, they also like Dayoung who's just so opinionated and strong and bright. They truly are the mirror image of their dad."

That was fucking it.

"Really!?" you snapped at her with a voice so sharp it should've turned her into ceviche. Harin jumped slightly from the sharpness of your tone as she looked at you in surprise, taking in how you were squinting your eyes at her in disbelief. "I-I'm sorry, wha-" you cut her stupid mouth off, not even wanting to hear her feigning confusion as the why you would react that way considering the fact that she had just acted like she knew your kids enough on top of having the nerve to talk all intimate-like about your husband. "You think you can talk to me that way about MY kids after everything?" "w-w- what did I say? I-I was just saying that I adore them," Harin tried to defend herself but your anger had made it seem like you doubled in size and you were towering over her. "And who do you think you are to adore my children?" it was obvious that you were no longer holding back your anger and while a part of you dreaded this, another felt glad that you were finally able to stand up for yourself. "I know everything, you slut," you sneered, taking a step closer to get a better look at the way her face fell, "I know you've been screwing my husband behind my back. He confirmed it to me."

By then you had caught the attention of the people around and you were sure that they had heard you but you didn't care. You stood over her, watching as she stuttered, looking as stupid as a fish out of water. "What? Nothing to say now? Nothing about my kids being the mirror image of the man you slept with multiple times and even shamelessly claimed to be your husband at the hospital?" you taunted, "You might have skipped this lesson in whore school, but when you see the wife of the man you're screwing, you blush, avert your eyes, and you scurry away like a roach, got it?" maybe you took it a step too far by humiliating her like that but you couldn't help the satisfied look on your face when she stared at you with reddened cheeks and a very displeased look on her face. The crowd gathering around you didn't make things any better for her because they were starting to whisper among themselves and you recognized some of them as the affluent stay-at-home moms whose husbands fall under the stereotypical cheating trope. So hearing you say all of that, they immediately started to look at Harin with disgust, and a small part of you, the evil part that was created due to hurt, took that as a win.

"Mommy?"

You turned around to see Woohyun standing not too far away from you with Seonghwa standing next to him, looking more surprised than your son who just looked concerned. Before you could react, Woohyun rushed to stand in front of you, glaring at Harin who looked at him with guilt. If you didn't know any better, you would've guessed that she was finally facing another innocent person who got affected by her selfishness. But you weren't as willing to consider her to have any semblance of humanity in her.

"Mommy, can we go home now?" Woohyun asked without looking at you but still keeping his glare on Harin. It was obvious to you that he was trying to distract you, trying to get you out of the uncomfortable situation which made you wonder about how much he knew or even understand. But you didn't want to hash it out in such a public place with him so you nodded and took his hand, automatically causing his attention to shift to you. "Yeah, of course, we can go home now sweetie. Have you gotten all of your things?" you asked in a tone so sweet that it caused Harin's spine to tingle from the palpable difference. It didn't help that once Woohyun turned away, he too, sported an innocent smile, nodding along and showing you his things that he had packed.

Turning around with Woohyun in tow, you shot Harin one last glare before stepping to face Seonghwa with a polite smile, "Is that the file you want to give my son of a bitch husband?" Seonghwa felt his knees buckle from fear but he tried his best to stabilize himself and smile at you, "Y-yeah, Wooyo-" The sudden shift to anger on your face when you heard your husband's name almost made Seonghwa shit his pants but he immediately corrected himself, "I-I mean, t-that son of a-a bitch, needs to review this and get back to me a-at, uh... YOUR earliest convenience?" your curtly nodded and offered him a polite smile whilst covering Woohyun's ears, "Thank you Seonghwa, and I'm sorry to have done this confrontation so publicly. It was not ideal but I was pushed to engage and since it's both out in the open and both it and my husband are hypocritical cowards who will not bring this up themselves, can I trust you to report this case to HR and see to it both of them get disciplinary action because it does break the inappropriate relationship rule and not to mention this could open you up to lawsuits should the bitch expand her reach and screw all of you as well? Thank you." Seonghwa immediately nodded his head and he was about to say something to comfort you but you had started your journey out of the academy, leaving Harin in the middle of the room, being pointed and whispered at by the people around, moms, and random people like other dancers and staff. Some had even fished out their phones and began to type away and Harin could only imagine that it was about her.

Humiliated, Harin was about to run away when a figure stepped out from the crowd and blocked her. She looked up to see Yunho staring at her with a less-than-pleased look on his face which terrified her because he was always the mood-maker.

"I think it would be best if you come with us to HR," he said in a low voice, briefly looking at Seonghwa who was immediately on his phone, looking distressed and frantic as he tried to get HR to immediately gather in the meeting room along with the other people who might be related.

Defeated, Harin hung her head and muttered under her breath, "That fucking bitch," she exhaled shakily which was easily heard by Yunho who clenched his jaw and with a tightly closed fist, hit the wall next to him hard enough that a loud BOOM echoed, surprising the people around who immediately dispersed whilst simultaneously causing Harin to cower.

"Mind your language because as of the moment (y/n) told Seonghwa hyung to report you to HR, anything and everything you said is a testament to your character and action and from what I'm seeing, you should not be calling (y/n) a bitch," he said through gritted teeth, forcing Harin to drop her face in absolute shame and simply followed when Yunho gestured for her to walk down the hallway (in shame).

"If I were you, I'd fire up my LinkedIn again because if you think Wooyoung would fight for you to stay, you'd end up wasting your time, his time, and frankly, everyone's time."

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@atinyreads @strawberry-yeo @soobiverse @vixensss @smally97 @maidens-world @yunhoswrldddd @imcoenffl @nescaffei @miaatiny @showmehoseok @tmingi @wlv-asteria @sunwoosbaby @hyukssunflower @remi-young

@staytiny816 @dearinsaniiity @scentednerdenemy @melanchobtch

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17

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vitalverstappen · 10 days

Text

How Do I Do This? - D. Ricciardo

summary: after a public divorce with your ex-husband (not danny), you found yourself learning to try again

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x famous!reader

warnings: mentions of divorce, drinking, swearing

word count: 1.1k

The divorce was messy. There were disputes over literally everything: who got what, how much money both of you got, who kept the dog. And it didn’t help that the media got a whiff of what was happening. Your failing marriage was plastered on every single outlet.

It was for the best that you hid away from the public for a while. The pieces of you had shattered on the floor, and you needed the time to put yourself back together.

A few months later, you slowly began putting yourself back in the public eye. Small trips to the coffee shop, out to lunch with some friends, or a smaller awards show.

During this outing, you found yourself out to lunch with your childhood best friend, Kelly. She had been there through the thick and thin of your marriage, and the resulting divorce. There was nothing about your life that she didn’t know.

She knew so well that she could tell you were healed, and truth be told, you were. So it was no surprise when a mischievous grin formed on her face.

“What’s that look for?” You asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be

“Soooo” Kelly started “There’s this guy I know. A good friend of mine.”

“Wow, you have friends other than me. I’m hurt” You joked as you took a sip of your drink. It was obvious what she was hinting at.

“Yeah, believe it or not” She laughed “But I think they’re your type y/n. His name is Daniel.”

Kelly flipped her phone around to show you a picture of the man. Dark curly hair, brown eyes, and a charming smile. As much as you hated to admit it, he was your type.

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms. It had been years since you dated. And honestly, it terrified you having to have a conversation about someone’s favorite color again. It terrified you to have articles written about you again.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.” You admitted “I can’t even remember what it’s like going on a first date. My last one was back when I was 22.”

“Oh come on, y/n. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just one date to test the waters. Get yourself back out there.” Kelly explained, “It can be in secret so the tabloids don’t write anything.”

She was right. The date didn’t have to go anywhere. You could meet the guy, say you weren’t feeling it, and leave it at that. No attachments, no tabloids.

“Fine,” You sighed, defeated. “Send the guy my number. I am not making the first move.”

You had honestly forgotten about the conversation with your friend. Days had passed and you hadn’t gotten a text from a new number. He probably didn’t want to text you. Or your agent had seen the text and thought it was spam.

That is until one fateful night, your phone buzzed.

Unknown: Hey y/n it’s Daniel. Kelly gave me your number

Amused, you picked up your phone. It took him long enough to get the confidence to text you.

You: Hey Daniel. I was starting to think Kelly forgot to lol

Only a few moments passed before your phone buzzed again. Another text from Daniel.

Daniel: Lol that’s pretty much what happened. How’s your night going?

The two of you engaged in a bit of small talk over text. It was only a matter of time before he pulled the trigger on asking you out.

Daniel: So I was wondering, are you free Saturday? I know a spot we could go - away from everything.

Your fingers danced around your keyboard until you finally found a reply.

You: Yeah I am!

After rereading the text, you quickly deleted your response. It was just a little too desperate.

You: Yup, I think so

Again, you found yourself deleting the message. This time, too nonchalant. At least twenty different replies had to have been typed out before you finally gave up and responded with something simple and straight to the point.

You: Yes

Immediately, you put your phone down, needing to connect back to your world. It was hard to fathom that you were back in the dating scene. Never did you think you would be back starting at square one.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing once again.

Daniel: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7

And that’s how you found yourself panicking in your room Saturday evening. An excitement rushed through you that you hadn’t felt in years. It was like your teenage self was coming back to life. You and Daniel had texted off and on leading up, but today was the big day.

Hours were spent digging through your extensive closet. Nothing that you had picked out seemed to be just right. Eventually, you landed on a little black dress that you hadn’t worn in years.

Panic flooded your thoughts the entire time you got ready. What if you said something stupid? What if he brought up your divorce? What if it actually goes well?

Your thoughts were cut short when you read the clock: 6:52pm. Eight minutes left.

You did the only thing you knew would calm your senses. Phone in hand, you called Kelly. One ring was all it took before her face showed up on your screen.

“Hey girl! You look hot!” She said as she picked up.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up” You admitted “I don’t know if I can do this”

“Y/n, yes you can. It’s just a few hours of your life. Daniel’s a sweet guy-”

“Would it be wrong if I took a shot?” You blurted out, eyes on the bottle of vodka that stood on your kitchen counter.

Through the phone, Kelly stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you need to, Danny’s an easy guy to talk to. But if you think it’ll help, be my guest.”

Without a second thought, you twisted the cap off of the bottle and took a swig. The liquor burned your throat as you drank, but it was the reality check you needed. You were human, he was human. You’re going to be fine.

“Better?” Kelly asked as you gagged

Once you collected yourself, you said, “Better. I gotta go Kels. He should be picking me up any second.” As if on cue, you heard your doorbell ring. “Coming!”

After one last quick look in the mirror, you found yourself at your door. Daniel was on the other side. This was it. One last inhale, then you opened the door.

“Hey” Was all you were able to get out. Kelly had shown you photos of Daniel, but none of those could compare to how he looked standing in front of you.

“Hi” He replied in the same breathy tone you had used only moments prior. A smile spread across his face. “You look amazing”

“So do you”

Daniel reached out his hand, “M’lady, shall we?”

Your lips parted into a smile as well as you laced your fingers into his, “We shall”

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Hmm. You and Eddie having a running gag where he proposes to you in restaurants for free desert but one day it’s not a joke anymore and he’s really asking 💍 🫢

AN | I adore this concept and hope I did it justice! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were about to say something to Eddie, leaning across the table, immediately getting lost in those big brown eyes like you had a million times before. But before any words could make it out of your mouth, a loud burst of cheering and applause interrupted you. Both of you turned to look at the sudden commotion and your heart immediately flipped a few times.

There was a man down on one knee, holding out a box containing a beautiful, ornate ring to a very bored looking woman. Within seconds she switched and was crying, dramatically fanning at her eyes before shouting a loud yes and eagerly grabbing the ring out of the box. You exchanged a look with Eddie, who playfully rolled his eyes as you giggled.

After a few moments, when everything settled down you spied the waiter bringing out what appeared to be a very fancy dessert that was allegedly compliments of the restaurant. You motioned your head in their direction so Eddie would look; you clocked the amused little expression.

“So, I’m like totally certain they’re going to be divorced within a year if they even make it to the wedding,” you whispered so only he could hear, “but that dessert looks fantastic.”

“And free,” he joked, “what’s better than that? I’m curious though, why don’t you think they’ll make it?”

“It’s obvious,” you stated as he shook his head in amusement, “look at the body language, he’s clearly older, and she’s barely said anything, he’s the one doing all the talking. Plus, when he asked the question, she didn’t go to hug him, she just grabbed the ring. Tell me you’re in it for the money without telling me.”

“Ahhh,” he watched with a tender expression on his face that you missed from your little spy session, “very observant of you, my smart girl.”

“Could never be me,” you shook your head before grabbing your wine and finishing the glass.

“Oh?” Eddie teased, his pretty pink lips quirked into a dopey grin, “you aren’t dating me for my money?”

“Sorry rockstar,” you nudged his foot with yours before beaming at him, “I’m only with you because I love and adore you.”

“Damn,” he sighed dramatically, “here I was thinking if I was in a semi-popular local rock band I’d have you all over me for material things.”

“Nah,” you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over and kissed his cheek, “all I ever need is you. Besides, marriage is a sham. You don’t need to be married to be happy…all you really need is love, ya know?”

“Totally,” he agreed, his mind already reeling with a thousand different thoughts; all of them started and ended, however, with how much he loved you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him

“Babe,” you hear him before you see him as you stand in front of the full length mirror, looking yourself over. You saw his roguish curls in the mirror behind you as he breathed in sharply, “holy fuck.”

“What?” you turned around and looked down to see if something had happened to your dress, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he tenderly reached over, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, "you're just so beautiful - how do you keep getting more beautiful? It's unfair."

"Eddie," your face warmed up as you tried to brush him off. He opened his mouth to say something else but you slapped your hand over it, "I've worn this dress loads! And I look the same as always. So dramatic, honey boy."

The boy in question turned your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "I said what I said."

"Fine," his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling into his warm frame, "you're getting more and more handsome all the time. Now can we please get going? Otherwise we'll miss our reservation and we've had it for months!"

"Do you trust me?"

“What do you…of course, Eds. More than anyone.”

“Good.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was about halfway through your meal of ridiculously exquisite food and smooth alcohol that you noticed something was off. Eddie’s expression shifted between excitement and nerves and you wondered what he was up to. But you never got the opportunity to ask because your metalhead pushed back his chair and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, black velveteen box.

“Eds…”

“Angel, darling, absolute love of my life,” your eyes widened in surprise as you lightly shook your head in a vain attempt to stop. You should have known better. You should have known that he was still getting down on one knee in front of you, “I love you beyond measure, beyond what I ever thought was possible. You have made me the happiest and luckiest man in the world. There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. Will you do me the honor of letting me be your husband?”

“Eddie,” you hissed under your breath, acutely aware of the fact that seemingly every eye in the house was trained on the two of you, “what’re you doing?!”

“Trust me.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded, a grimace that could be mistaken for a nervous smile on your face. At least you really were surprised, “of course I’ll…marry you.”

He grabbed the ring out of the box - that alone left you with a load of questions - and delicately placed it on your ring finger. You laughed nervously as he leaned in to kiss you, a large hand gently cradling your face, “just trust me baby.”

To anyone else it probably looked like a sweet exchange between now fiancees; not him trying to calm you and you trying not to glare daggers. After a few more soft pecks placed on his lips, he sat back down as people around you clapped happily.

“Edward Munson,” you digusised your annoyance with a sticky, sweet smile, “what the fuck?”

“I-”

“For the happy couple,” a waitress magically appeared, holding a plate piled with a delicious dessert and set it down between the two of you, “your meal and everything is on the house this evening. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he gave her that stupidly dazzling smile as you suddenly put the pieces together. Once she walked away, he cocked his head to the side and looked at you with a triumphant smile, “I love you, baby.”

“You’re an absolute bastard,” there was no malice behind your words as you grabbed one of the forks, “all of this for a free dessert? Ridiculous man.”

“Yout ridiculous man,” his pretty cheeks were tinged with pink and his doe eyes were glittering with joy. Maybe you did just fall in love with him a little more in that moment, “and in case you didn’t hear her, it’s all on the house. So there you go - we finally got to try the restaurant you wanted and it was free! And all it took was getting fake engaged.”

“Never change, Eddie Munson,” you whispered, clinking your fork against his, “I love you endlessly.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him

“Baby, baby, baby,” Eddie sang happily as he walked through the front door to the little house you’d made a home. He’d just gotten off work at the body shop, giddy to come home and see his best girl. It amused you sometimes; he still kept his day job, despite his band’s increasing popularity and notoriety. You looked from the bowl of brownie batter you were whipping up and beamed at him. He came over and picked you up before spinning around a few times, “I’ve missed you.”

“Eddie!” you were dizzied and breathless from his affection, “you’re filthy - you’re gonna ruin my new dress!”

“I’ll buy you a hundred new ones,” he promised, setting you down and taking you face in hands. His touch was soft and gentle, despite his rough, calloused fingertips, “my beautiful girl.”

“You better kiss me,” your heart was pitter-pattering wildly as butterflies exploded in your tummy, “if you’re going to keep looking at me like that.”

“Yeah?” a small, hopeful little question.

“Yeah,” so he kissed you, and kissed until you were melding into his body and breathless, “I love you, Eds.”

“Let me take you out,” you bounced on your heels and couldn’t but squeal softly. It’d been a bit since you’d last had a proper date night between your busy schedules, “wanna show off my girl.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You look like you’ve got something to say,” you pointed at him with your fork and Eddie shook his head, the picture of innocence and tranquility. You weren’t buying it for a moment - you knew him better than anyone else, “don’t lie to me. I know you’re up to something, Edward.”

“The full name?” he put his hand on his heart, groaning dramatically, “baby, you wound me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Listen…” he paused, taking a moment to compose himself before nodding, “you’re right - there is something I want to say.”

“Eddie…” the chair legs scraped against the hardwood floor as he stood up and came over to your side of the table. He didn’t have to get all the way down on his knee for you to know what was happening. You couldn’t even be annoyed or made at him, instead you were giggling, hiding your face behind your hand.

He reached up and gently pulled your hand away, holding it in one of his hands, “sweetheart - you are the light of my life…you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m so glad I walked into the record store that afternoon and ran into you - literally. The past few years have been like a dream and I can’t wait to spend the rest of them with you. Angel, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You were more prepared this time and didn’t miss a beat as you nodded softly. He fumbled in his pocket and displayed that same ring to you, and this time you eagerly held out your hand for him to slip it on, “I’d marry you a hundred times over.”

The two of you shared a knowing little kiss before reaching down to pull him up your lips, kissing him with a golden intensity. He nudged his nose against yours before whispering, “nice job, sweetheart. We really sold it.”

He kissed the tip of your nose before jokingly bowing and waved to your curious audience before pointing to you. You felt shy at the attention from the other diners and kept your gaze trained on him. You couldn’t deny that the idea of being his wife was…more intoxicating than you’d ever thought.

“What?” he asked as caught you watching him with heart eyes, “something on my face?”

“No,” you promised, “I just really love you is all.”

“I love you,” a tender, soft spoken statement, dissolved into a wink, “future wife.”

This time around, dessert didn’t soothe your soul nearly as much as the thought of calling Eddie your husband.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The third time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him

“Eddie?” you walked into the small rehearsal space that Corroded Coffin used, eager to see him after a long day. You found him as the last straggler, carefully stowing away his guitar, speaking sweetly to it, which only made you shake your head in adoration. You were head over heels in love with this man, “hello, my love.”

“Hi baby,” he held out his arms and immediately made grabby hands towards you, “cuddles please.”

"Funny," you walked to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, smashing your face into his back, "I was gonna ask you for the same thing."

"Great minds think alike," one of his hands settled on yours, promoting to shy softly, "what's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing at all,” you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, “just wanted to see you. Wanna go out to dinner? It’s late and it’s been a long week, I’m starving, and…kinda just wanna show off my man.”

“How could I ever say no to you?”

“You don’t. You’ve learned well for the past years, my love!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There really was nothing better than being with Eddie and getting to be in his magical orbit. It was easy to get lost in him, to fall so deeply entranced that you forgot everything else around you. That was, until of course, he shot you a wink accompanied by a cheeky smile. You knew the drill by now and weren’t phased as he went through the motions of a grand proposal.

Eddie spoke sweet words to you and while you knew that everything he was saying was true, you couldn’t stop the pang in your heart knowing the proposal wasn’t real. The ring was a silly little thing, a cheap one from the local department store, but that didn’t even really matter. You would have married him with a paper ring. And that’s when it hit you.

You wanted to marry him. You’d always been convinced that marriage was not for you and something you never wanted and yet…here you were. Eddie Munson had changed everything for you.

In that moment, while he went through the proposal spiel and asked you to marry him, you pretended he meant it when you said yes. Because you did mean it. The free meal and dessert couldn’t hold a candle to your happiness and love for him. But then again, it didn’t hurt either.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

…and the time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him for real

“I have an idea,” Eddie almost jumped on the bed as he came out of the bathroom, pajamas on and hair pulled into a messy bun. You set down your book and turned to him, your own smile matching his enthusiasm. Almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed you, slow and saccharine, “a brilliant idea.”

“Tell me,” you brushed a few of his unruly curls out of his face before touching his cheek, “if Eddie Munson had an idea, it has to be good.”

“Very funny,” but he was laughing too, “next weekend, let’s take a little trip out of town, just you and I. Whaddya say?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“There is none,” he grinned wolfishly, “just want to spend some quiet time away with my girl.”

“Count me in,” you agreed, your amusement quickly turned into a squeal of surprise as he laid down and pulled you on top of, looking up at you with reverence, “I love you, ya know?”

“That’s good,” he mused softly, “‘cause I’m crazy in love with you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” If there was one thing Eddie loved, it was flirting. Flirting with you, in particular and despite how long you’d been together it still made you giggly and shy. You leaned forward on your elbow and looked at him with an eyebrow raised, “because you’re a knockout, baby.”

“Shut up,” a soft, gentle response that made him cheese harder, “besides it’s the dress. The dress you happened to pick out and get for me, dummy.”

“You don’t like it?” his expression turned worried as you shook your head.

“I love it,” you put your hand on his arm, “it’s stunning - thank you for it. This whole weekend…it’s been magical.”

“You deserve it,” he promised and that damned smile made you want to melt into a puddle, “there’s something else you deserve…”

And this time you hadn’t been expecting it. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small box. Your surprise was genuine as he hadn’t done this in a while and you weren’t thinking he would do it during an already over the top luxe weekend.

He kneeled down in front of you and reached for your hand as you tried to sus out what was going. He exhaled slowly before catching your head and almost chucking at your deer in headlights expression, “baby. I…I don’t know where to start. This went smoother in my mind!”

“Eddie…”

“Every single word I’ve said to you the times I’ve ‘proposed’ have been true and I’ve meant it,” oh. What was going on? He laughed nervously, “and I still mean it. You’re it for me and I’ve been a goner for you since the day we met. I love you beyond measure.”

“Edward.”

“I know we’ve always kind of made fun of marriage and how outdated the whole institution of it is,” the back of eyes started to prickle as you squeeze his hand, “but I’d really like to call you my wife. It has a nice ring to it.”

With that opened a small box and showed you the ring he’d picked out. It was gorgeous and way more than you could have ever dreamed of or asked for. You looked at him as if to say seriously and he nodded sweetly.

“Will you marry me?” it was barely above a whisper, inaudible to everyone else but you, “for real?”

“Yeah?” a few tears rolled down your cheeks which he gently brushed away.

“Yeah baby,” he promised, “I kinda really want to be your husband.”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you barely had a moment to realize what was going on before he was kissing you, sweetly and softly but with every ounce of love behind it. He pulled his lips away from yours for long enough to slip the ring onto your finger, lacing his fingers through yours, “I love you so much, Eddie.”

“I love you, angel. So much.”

And then he kissed you again and the world all but disappeared, including the clapping restaurant patrons, and all you knew was him.

Your soon-to-be husband.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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daydreamerwoah · 11 days

Text

Love Through It All Pt. 4

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, hurt, angst, anger, crying, sadness, mentions of therapy/counseling

Read Part 1 for author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

Simon didn't even knock on Pvt Williams's office door before he walked in, slightly startling her as she looked up from the paperwork on her desk. He all but slammed the door as he strolled further in.

"Y'got five seconds to tell me why the fuck you recorded us in your room and sent it to m'wife." he demanded.

Williams's eyes widened as her mouth dropped, "How-how do you know I recorded us?"

"You don't get to ask the questions," he barked, "Answer me. Now."

Simon had a way of making anybody do anything he wanted. With his broad and towering stature and harsh eyes, everyone knew there were only certain things that the Ghost tolerated. And it didn't matter how much Williams's snaked her way into his head, she knew when he wasn't fucking around.

"I... I recorded it because-" Simon narrowed his eyes, making the woman shut her mouth instantly and gulp. "-But I didn't... I didn't send your wife the videos."

"Who did you send them to then?" He retorted. The tension in the room could be cut with a steak knife. Simon was on the verge of spazzing out waiting for her answer.

She sighed, nervous about the reaction she was about to get, "Ghost-"

"Who?" he ordered.

"You're not the only guy I'm shaggin'... and he likes to watch us do it... so-so I set up cameras in my room so he could watch them whenever he wanted. And........I accidentally sent him the videos of us when it was supposed to be me and him."

Simon's eyes widened so big the eyeblack covering his skin was almost no longer seen through the holes in his mask. It wasn't the fact that Williams was fucking someone else, it was the fact that someone other than him, you, and her knew about his infidelity, and that just made him even more angry.

"Tell me who he is," another order.

And she did. She told him who the guy was - another private that was in her unit. She tried apologizing, but Simon was out the door before she could even finish her sentence. The only thing that was on his mind fixing the problem he caused. The other thing was to find the guy.

************************************************************************

Ava was on her lunch break and decided to drag you along to the breakroom while she heated up her food. "How did it go this morning?"

You plopped down on an empty chair at the table and groaned, "I don't know." She faced you, one eyebrow raised as she waited for you to continue. When you didn't, she sat down in the seat next to you.

"What happened?"

You shook your head slightly, "I mean... I talked about something I hadn't told Simon before," she nodded in understanding, "the chaplain wants us to do two sessions a week. One alone and one together."

The microwave beeped, letting you know her food was heated. She stood and walked to grab the food, "That's good. It's a small step, but a step regardless."

You looked at the back of her head, eyebrows furrowing together as you licked your dry lips to speak again, "I saw her."

Ava's head whipped around so fast, it would have been comedic any other time. "You what?" she practically yelled, making you cringe at the tone. You nodded, "How?"

A sigh left your lips, "When we were leaving, she walked up to us. She was looking for him."

"What the hell?!" Food long forgotten, Ava marched right back over to the chair and sat down, urging you to continue.

"I don't know if she recognized me or not. But it was obvious. The way he tensed and how he barely looked at her. And the way she quickly left and looked at me... yeah. It was her." You had realized it until Ava pulled you into a hug that a tear fell down your cheek.

"Oh I'm sorry Y/n," she said, rocking you a little.

God, you wish you could cut the feelings out of your soul because you had been crying so much as of late. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, seeing the message displayed.

Simon: I have to stay a little late. Promise I'm not cheating or doing anything wrong. Just have paperwork to do and take care of something. Love you.

"What?" Ava asked, sensing your body tense a little.

"Nothing. He just texted. Said he was gonna be late getting home."

She looked at the screen, feeling a bit sorry for you at his message explaining that he wasn't cheating. But another idea quickly popped in her head, "What are you doing after work?"

You shrugged, "Going home."

She hummed, "Well now you're not."

"Huh?"

A bright smile formed on her face, "I'm taking you somewhere. So be ready when we get off"

************************************************************************

"I can't wear this!" you all but shouted as you stepped out of the dressing room in a dress that was very revealing. But that didn't stop the huge grin on Ava's face as she looked at you in it.

"Oh honey, it fits you so damn good."

You faced the mirror, eyeing the dress on your body. The way it hugged your curves perfectly and made your boobs sit nicely on displace, you couldn't help but admire it... even with your eyebrows drawn together.

Ava had taken you to a store that had dresses and outfits that screamed sexy, elegant, and dark. She made you try on more dresses than you could count, picking out the ones that looked great on you. Each one revealing the soft skin of your legs. Some dresses were strapless or sleeveless, and even the assistant complimented how beautiful you looked.

Next were shoes, and Ava made sure to pick out heels that made you stand taller and more confident. From open toe to pointed, she grabbed them.. even though some ones that were... questionable in your eyes. The high stiletto with straps that wrapped around your ankles in particular.

Finally, she dragged you to a lingerie store.

"Why are we here? I'm not having sex-"

She cut you off, "I didn't say you had to," she giggled, "But you gotta feel sexy under those clothes yeah?"

You playfully rolled your eyes. You honestly were having fun, and it was a good distraction. Better than going home to cry. Ava helped you find some nice garter and lingerie sets. Ones that were sure to not only make you feel sexy but that would have your husband quickly realizing what he was going to lose.

You hated the childish feeling that tugged on your heartstrings at how you looked different; how you looked better than what she had on.

When you got home, you had so many bags you made two trips to bring them in to your closet. "Fucking hell, Ava," you giggled as you looked at the bags. Your next task was to get rid of all the clothes that you hadn't worn in years or that wasn't matching the new you as your friend said. So you did. You threw out all of the old clothes and put away your new ones.

You hadn't realized how tired you were from the day's activities until you plopped on the couch and turned the TV on. It was just after 9pm. Simon was still at work, but you tried your best not to think about it. Regardless if he was being honest now, it didn't change the past; what he did. But instead of crying, you decided to have a glass of wine.

One turned into three, and you figured you'd just lay on the couch and continue to watch the movie that was on.

When Simon made it home a little before 10:30pm, he was beyond surprised to find your sleeping figure on the couch. You didn't even have a blanket draped over you as you curled your hands and feet close to your body to keep them warm. He sighed, taking off his mask as he walked closer to the couch and kneeled. Even though you fought hard to not cry, that only seemed to work when you were conscious. The couple of tears that escaped your closed eyes and the small whine that left your lips let Simon know you were dreaming... and not a pleasant one.

His forefinger gently brushed the tear away, and he felt his heart lurch out to you. He was truly sorry, even if you didn't believe him. Even when you shouldn't have.

When he came back from his last mission a few months ago, he felt weak. Not physically... but mentally. A well-known and violent terrorist had gotten away, and he wanted to rip the human being a new asshole. They - 141 and damn near half the army - had been searching for him for months prior, only for him to slip through their fingers. The unit that Pvt Williams was in was a part of that mission, and everyone felt the same anger rush through their veins when they got back to base.

It was something they all had in common. It was something you could and would never understand.

Simon just wanted to let out his frustration, just like his teammates. But he also was horny... he didn't know why. And he knew he could have gone home to you.... but you were his wife. Soft and fragile. You had never told him you were open to trying new things, trying BDSM. It was something he was into; rough and hardcore sex... he always had been, but when he met you, he knew you were different. You were the love of his life.... not the slut he fucked hard and rough to let out his stress.

And Williams played that to her advantage greatly. The first time, Simon was working on paperwork in his office while also having a glass of bourbon he kept in his drawer. He was alone and deep in his thoughts. He should have stopped her. He should have thrown her out of his office the moment she got on her knees in front of him. But when she told him to punish her, it was a true moment of weakness. The alcohol spinning in his head and his hand wrapped around her throat, he caved in.....

It was wrong. Very wrong. He wanted to tell you the next day what had happened, but his work overpowered his mind as they got ready for the next mission. He came back even more frustrated than before, and she knew she had him. He was a weak man... weak like his father. That scum of a human being. When he was little, Simon used to wonder why his mom stayed when his father treated her like complete shit. Like she was nothing.... but now he was wondering why he was making you stay. He didn't deserve the love you gave to him. You did nothing wrong, yet he refused to let you go.

With soft and steady hands, Simon picked you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest as he walked to the bedroom. Your eyes fluttered open a bit, slightly confused about why you felt weightless. "Simon?" you whispered, voice groggy with sleep.

"Shh.. It's alright, sweetheart. Just putting you to bed." he said, laying you down before covering you with the duvet.

You instantly fell back asleep, and Simon glanced down at you. His eyes watered as they had been doing off and on all day at the thought of everything. He wanted to make this right. He was going to make this right. He had already talked to a couple of superiors who started the process for Williams to be transferred to another base.. in another country. By the end of the week, she'd be gone and away from him and you forever.

************************************************************************

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, and your head was hurting. You would have chalked it up to the wine you had last night, but the wet stains on your pillow only let you know that you had been crying in your sleep. You couldn't escape it even if you tried.

Sitting up, you glanced around the room. The sheets were scrunched up so you knew Simon came home last night. The slight memory of him picking you up off the couch and tucking you in before you felt the weight of the bed dip as he got in. You planted your feet on the floor before glancing at the clock on the nightstand. A small piece of paper caught your eye and you eventually grabbed and read it.

Hope you have a good day at work sweetheart. Breakfast is on the stove - xx Si

The fucking tiny smile that formed on your lips instantly formed as you read the note over again. It was ridiculous, but you felt the butterflies in your stomach before you frowned. No. You can't be happy. You can't.

You sat the note back on the nightstand before standing up and making your way to the bathroom to get ready for work. Once you showered, brushed your teeth, and put on makeup, you made your way to the closet, blushing at the clothes you hung up yesterday. Did Simon see them? You almost wondered if he did but you glanced at the clock, realizing you'd be late if you didn't hurry your ass up.

Grabbing the breakfast he left on the stove, you scarfed it down before quickly putting on your heels, grabbing your coat and keys, and heading out the door.

Taglist: @kalypsoox

I answered this in a response, but I have no idea how many parts this story will have. I'm just writing as I think of stuff, so this may be a long one :)

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #simon riley female #cod mw ghost #call of duty #ghost riley #ghost simon riley #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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pedrospatch · 1 year

Text

what he didn’t do

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You’re very recently divorced, but that doesn’t stop a certain handsome, brown-eyed neighbor from taking you out on a date.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. divorced reader, no massive age gap (no specific age is mentioned, but reader is in her early 30’s and Joel is 35) slow burn, 10 year crush kind of deal. reader talks about her past relationship. mentions of food and alcohol. soft, caring Joel. first date fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: so um how are we all doing after today, we still alive out there? 👀 no one asked for this, this fic is purely self indulgent, my lonely single ass is convinced that pre out break Joel would be just the most amazing gentleman on a date, he would be so perfect and just take the best care of you and treat a girl right…so here is what i whipped up.

He’ll treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

stay home ‘cause he wanted to

always fight for my love

hold on tight like it’s something that he can’t stand to lose

Joel wasn’t all too sure how it even happened.

Earlier that afternoon, he’d gone on over to your place to deliver a piece of mail that the postman had accidentally put in his mailbox instead of yours. While Joel was there, you’d kindly asked him if he could recommend a good plumber that you could call because you had a stubborn leak under the kitchen sink that you needed to get looked at sooner rather than later. Wanting to save you both the hassle and the expense of having to hire someone, Joel had told you to hang tight for a minute and rushed back over to his house, only to return with his yellow toolbox in hand so that he could fix it for you, which he’d done in fifteen minutes flat—and now, just a few hours later into the evening, he was getting himself ready to take you out to dinner.

And the real fucking kicker of it all was that he had been the one to ask you out, proposing the offer while his head had been buried in the cabinet underneath your leaking kitchen sink. At least that way, if you had rejected him, you wouldn’t have been able to see the look of complete and utter embarrassment on his face. But much to Joel’s surprise, not to mention, his relief, you’d eagerly accepted the invitation and even suggested tonight would be the perfect night if he didn’t have prior plans or commitments.

Hell, even if Joel did have prior plans or commitments, he would have canceled them for you without a single ounce of hesitation.

He’d discovered he would do just about anything for you.

Joel shrugged into the light tan, button up shirt that Sarah had helped him pick out earlier just before he’d jumped in the shower. At thirteen, she lived with her nose buried in fashion magazines lately and she didn’t trust him to successfully choose a proper outfit for the occasion on his own without guidance. It had been well over a few years since Joel had been on a date, as she had so kindly pointed out to him while she’d rummaged around through his mess of a closet. Although he insisted that it wasn’t a date, his teenager had scoffed and called him out on his bullshit. “Well, what else do you do you call it when two single adults go out to dinner together alone?” Sarah had challenged him as she held up a couple of different shirts up against his chest, searching for the perfect one. “Especially when one of those two adults has had the most obvious crush on the other one for what, like ten freaking years now?”

“It wasn’t that obvious,” he’d muttered to her in response. Peering at her curiously, he couldn’t help himself as he had asked her, “Was it?”

“Dad, your crush on her has been about as subtle as a brick to the face.” Letting out a huge laugh, Sarah had shoved the shirt she’d selected into his hands and tossed the losers right back into his closet. “Here, wear this one with those dark jeans, the bootcut ones. Don’t roll up the sleeves like you always do. And for the love of all that is holy, at least make an attempt to run a comb through that hair of yours,” she’d advised on her way out the door, leaving him to it.

Joel sighed and buttoned up the shirt, then tugged on his dark blue jeans and a pair of black leather boots—the only pair he owned that weren’t totally worn down to the soles. He finished getting dressed and proceeded to roll up the long sleeves of his shirt up to the middle of his forearms, tucking in the cuffs as neatly as he could. He could already hear his daughter scolding him over it, but screw it, Joel wanted to be comfortable, especially now that warmer weather had arrived in Austin.

After rubbing just the slightest hint of his favorite sandalwood cologne on his neck and on the insides of his wrists, Joel finally left his bedroom and made his way downstairs, trying his absolute hardest to pay no mind to the nerves that were threatening to creep up on him. He entered the living room where he found Tommy sitting on the couch with Sarah, a plastic blue bowl of popcorn nestled between the two of them. Sarah, who had been busy shuffling through a stack of movies in her lap, looked up when she heard him walk into the room and narrowed her green eyes at him. “Come on, man! What did I say earlier about the sleeves?”

“You told me not to roll ‘em up. But I chose not to listen to you,” Joel quipped, eliciting an annoyed sigh from her.

Tommy smirked at him. “So motherfucker, you finally did it, huh? You finally asked her out on a date.” His smirk widened. “Only had to wait, what, about ten fuckin’ years?”

Joel glared at his younger brother. “How did you even—?” He stopped abruptly and his dark brown eyes flickered over to Sarah, who shot him a guilty smile from where she sat. “Really? You just had to tell him?”

“Sorry,” she apologized, sheepishly. “It slipped.”

“Damn, big brother. Y’know, word on the street is that she just signed the divorce papers at the courthouse earlier this week,” Tommy remarked, taking a swig from his bottle of Lone Star as he leaned back into the couch. “You’ve got some real big fuckin’ balls to ask a freshly divorced woman out on a date that quick. I’ve gotta admit that I’m actually pretty fuckin’ impressed with you, Joel. Didn’t think you’d have it in you.”

“It ain’t a date,” Joel muttered out the lie, picking up his keys from the coffee table. “We’re just goin’ out to dinner is all.”

“That’s a date,” Tommy and Sarah stated together in unison.

Joel let out a heavy sigh, deciding that it was better for him to ignore their antics rather than to play into them. “You.” He pointed an index finger at Sarah. “Might not be school night, but I don’t want you stayin’ up too late. And you.” He turned his attention to Tommy. “I don’t want you havin’ any of your little female friends over while I’m out tonight, especially not while Sarah is home. That understood?”

“Yes dad,” both their voices chirped together once again.

Rolling his eyes, Joel bid them a quick goodnight and left the house, making his way across the lawn and over to your place. You lived in the smaller, single story yellow house right next door to his.

You’d moved in next to Joel and Tommy several years ago—Sarah had still been a toddler then and he had just started getting used to life as a single father. Joel would never forget the first time that he laid his eyes on you. He had been in his driveway, taking a look under the hood of his old truck, a hunk of garbage Ford Ranger from the nineties that he’d finally gotten rid of a couple years back and replaced with a Chevrolet Silverado instead; it hadn’t been much of an upgrade, but at least it didn’t break down on him as often. Joel had noticed a moving van in the driveway of the house next door, but he hadn’t given it a second thought. He had been so engrossed in what he’d been doing, but at some point, he looked up from the engine and turned his head at the precise moment that you happened to walk by with a cardboard box in your arms. You’d caught his gaze and offered him what had to be the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his entire fucking life. Joel had just set his wrench down and was about to head over to offer you some help when a man emerged from the back of the moving van with another box. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as he led the way into the house.

Turns out, that man had been your husband.

To say Joel had been sorely disappointed by the fact that you were married had been an understatement to say the least.

It hadn’t taken all too long before Joel met his new neighbors, although he often saw more of you than he ever saw your husband—the man traveled across the country for business and he would be gone for several days, even several weeks at a time. You were a homemaker and to help make life a little less mundane, you’d started something of a daycare in your home, offering to help fellow neighbors who needed someone to watch their younger children during their nine to five work schedules.

When Joel found himself putting in a brutal number of hours in at his construction job, he had struggled to find someone who was willing to look after his then three year old for such extended periods of time. You’d happily volunteered to help him out and you would watch Sarah from sunrise to about sundown for him without a problem. When she started kindergarten two years later, you continued to help Joel out, going as far as taking her to school for him and then picking her up afterwards. You’d never had any children of your own, but you still had maternal instincts, and as Sarah grew up, whenever she would need a woman’s guidance, she would go straight to you without hesitation and you were always there for her no matter what, no questions asked.

Joel couldn’t have been more grateful for you.

He’d seen and spoken to you just about every day for the last decade—he’d even go as far as saying that the two of you were good friends, though since day one, he found himself longing for a hell of a lot more than just your friendship. Joel had thought he would have to shove his true feelings for you down for the rest of his natural born life, that is, until several months ago when he’d noticed the moving truck parked in your driveway one late afternoon as he and Sarah came home from one of her soccer games. Nearly in tears, Sarah had immediately hopped out of the pickup before Joel could even cut the engine and ran over, demanding to know why you hadn’t told her that you were moving—that’s when you fessed up and explained to her that you weren’t going anywhere, but your husband was.

Through whispers in the neighborhood, Joel discovered that you had filed for divorce and although no one knew the exact reason why, many suspected it had been your husband’s constant traveling for work that had done it. Denise, the nosy blonde woman who lived across the street from him swore up and down that he must have had some kind of adulterous affair behind your back—Joel simply told her she needed to lay off her dramatic daytime soap operas.

Regardless of the reason why, you were now officially single.

And Joel was taking you out to dinner.

Whether it was an actual date or not, that hadn’t exactly been established.

He made it up the front porch and inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it slowly through his nose before he knocked on your front door. When you opened it just a few seconds later, all of the wind had been knocked out of his lungs by an invisible force.

You wore a sky blue sundress with a sweet, white floral pattern printed all over it. Thin straps tied together at your shoulders and the hem of the skirt fell right to the middle of your thighs revealing a lot more of your silky smooth legs than he had ever seen before. You’d kept your makeup fairly light, and your hair fell loosely and naturally around your shoulders. Joel noticed you wearing a silver necklace, a butterfly pendant hanging from the chain. He recognized it, because he’d bought it for you, although it was Sarah who had gotten all the credit. She had given it to you as a gift for your birthday that passed by a few months ago.

“Hey!” You beamed at him. “You’re right on time.”

“Hey.” Joel swallowed dryly. “You look really beautiful.”

You smiled shyly. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” You returned the compliment, admiring the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps. “I have to hand it to you, you definitely clean up well, Joel.”

“Next time that you see Sarah, you’d best thank her. She deserves the credit,” he stated, eliciting a small laugh from you. “Are you all ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse and keys from the small glass table beside the door. You stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind you; after making sure that you’d locked it properly, you followed Joel across your front lawn and over towards his driveway. He led you to the passenger’s side of his dark blue Silverado and opened the door for you, holding his hand out to help you climb up into the seat. The gesture prompted you to shoot him a strange look.

He frowned a little. “What’s the matter?”

“No, nothing,” You quickly assured him. You placed your hand in his larger one, the contact causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up the length of your spine.

Joel helped you up into the truck and closed the door before making his way around the front of the vehicle and climbing into the driver’s seat. He shoved the key into the ignition and the pickup roared to life. He watched as you put on your seatbelt and then reached out, giving it a tug to make sure you were buckled in well enough. “Just makin’ sure you’re safe is all,” he uttered softly as you tossed him another puzzled glance. He reached over his shoulder for his own seatbelt and buckled it in before finally pulling out of the driveway.

Out of his peripheral vision, Joel could see you wringing your hands together in your lap in something of an anxious manner—were you nervous?

In an effort to comfort you and ease the nerves, Joel reached out and turned up the volume of the radio. He normally kept it on his favorite country station and was just about to ask what station you preferred when you let out a tiny, excited gasp and turned to him, a radiant smile breaking out onto your face.

“Oh, I love this song!” You told him, bringing your hands together in an enthusiastic clap. You then started singing along to the familiar lyrics. “Heads Carolina, tails California, somewhere greener, somewhere warmer, up in the mountains, down by the ocean—”

Joel turned briefly, raising an eyebrow at you. “Nineties country fan, huh?”

“Duh,” You replied playfully. “Nineties were and will probably always be the golden age of country.”

He grinned, turning his attention back onto the road. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Biting back another smile at his words, you turned to look out of the window, nodding your head and tapping your foot along to the beat of the song as you watched the streets of Austin pass by in a blur of lights and people.

Joel had chosen to take you to Antonio’s, a locally owned Italian place that was somewhere between casual and upscale dining. “Wait,” he told you, noticing you reaching for the door handle as soon as he’d parked in front of the restaurant. He jumped out of the driver’s seat and walked around, opening the door for you. Just like when he’d helped you into the truck back at his house, he offered you a hand to help you out of it. He kept his dark brown eyes on your feet, making sure you that didn’t fall or lose one of the brown sandals you were wearing. “Careful.”

“Thank you,” You said kindly to him as he closed the door behind you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt him place his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you inside of the restaurant where a hostess led you to a small, round table out in the back patio. You thanked her and reached for your chair, but Joel instantly stopped you.

“Let me,” he insisted, pulling it out for you. He helped you into the chair and noticed you give him another strange look, similar to the ones you’d given him when he’d helped you into the truck and when he’d checked your seatbelt. “Why do you keep lookin’ at me like that? Do I have somethin’ on my face or what?” He asked jokingly as he took his seat across from you.

You hesitated, but then confessed, “I’ve never had someone pull my chair out for me. I’ve never had someone open the car door for me or make sure I’m wearing my seatbelt.” You offered him a small, sheepish smile. “You don’t know how nice that is, Joel.”

Joel stared at you in complete disbelief.

Before he could say anything, a younger waitress appeared at the table to take yours and his orders for beverages. “I’ll just have a cabernet, please,” You ordered, politely. Not wanting to be the asshole who ordered a beer at an Italian place, Joel asked her for a glass of red wine too. She returned moments later with the drinks and then offered to take your orders for food. Both you and Joel decided on a chicken penne pasta dish that looked absolutely delicious. As soon as the waitress took your menus and disappeared back inside, you looked up at Joel and noticed his eyes were fixed intently on you. You felt a slight heat flood your face. “What is it?”

“Nothin’,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders innocently. “You just look really beautiful, that’s all.”

“You said that already,” You reminded him, letting out a breathless little laugh.

“I know.” Joel picked up his glass of wine. He took a quick sip before adding, “But someone as pretty as you deserves to hear it over and over again.”

The night went by fast, much too fast.

One minute, you were both enjoying your dinner and digging into delicious pasta, and the next, the table had been cleared completely, and so had all the other tables surrounding you—you two were the very last patrons in the restaurant. You and Joel had been so lost in conversation that neither of you had realized it was almost eleven and the restaurant was about to close in five minutes.

“We’ve been sitting here talking for three hours,” You gasped lightly.

Joel chuckled. “Time flies when you’re in great company.”

You looked the bill on the table, which the waitress had dropped off over an hour ago, and reached for it, but Joel was quick to snatch it away from you.

You pinned him with a stern look. “Come on, Joel! You fixed my kitchen sink for free, paying for dinner is the least I could do—”

“A lady never pays on a date.”

Your lips parted slightly in pleasant surprise. “Oh. So this is a date?”

Joel laughed as dug his brown leather wallet out from the pocket of his jeans. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I still ain’t lettin’ you pay.”

“I do.” You told him softly after a minute. “I do want it to be a date,”

Joel’s eyes met yours across the table and he smiled, looking relieved. “Good. ‘Cause I would’ve been kinda crushed if you’d said otherwise.”

He dropped a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table and stood up. He noticed you about to do the same when he shot you a warning glare.

“Oh. Right.” You giggled and waited until he stood up and held his hand out to you, helping you out of your chair.

As the two made your way out of the restaurant and out to his truck, Joel didn’t let your hand go.

“Thank you again for inviting me out to dinner tonight,” You said sweetly as Joel walked you up the porch steps to your front door. You rummaged through your purse and pulled out your house keys, pausing for a brief moment as you peered shyly up at him through your eyelashes. “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

Joel’s heart skipped an anxious, but eager beat. “I think I’d really like that.”

You turned back to your door and your hand trembled slightly as you jammed the key into the keyhole to unlock it and judging by the way Joel let out a soft chuckle beside you, you were certain that he’d noticed it. You pushed the door open, closing it behind you once the two of you had slipped inside. Setting your purse and keys down, you gestured for him to follow you into your living room where you nodded for him to have a seat on the dark blue velvet couch before you walked towards the kitchen. “What’s your poison?” You called out to him over your shoulder as you began rummaging around in your cabinets for two glasses.

“I’m partial to scotch,” he called back. He then added, “If you’ve got it, of course”

“How do you take it?”

“Neat’s just fine.”

You giggled as you prepared a glass of scotch for him and a glass of red wine for yourself. “Oh you’re just so classy, aren’t you Miller?” Before anything, you did a quick mirror check in the stainless steel toaster on the kitchen counter, making sure that not a single hair was out of place. You then took a deep breath, picked up the glasses, and walked back out into the living room. Handing Joel his glass, you took a seat beside him on the couch; you sat close to him, so close that his arm was pressed against yours. Somehow that wasn’t even remotely close enough. You wanted to be closer and hoped he felt the same.

“By the way, thank you again for fixing the sink for me,” You told him after taking a sip of your wine. “You probably saved me a couple hundred bucks.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’ really,” Joel reassured you. He nudged your arm. “If you ever need me to take a look at anythin’ around the house, please don’t hesitate to call me. I don’t want you reachin’ out to plumblers and electricians, those crooks will see a sweet little lady like yourself and see nothin’ but fuckin’ dollar signs. I don’t want anyone takin’ advantage of you, so when you’ve got a problem, you call me first alright?”

You gazed down into the burgundy depths of your glass, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I really appreciate that, Joel.” You brought yourself to look up at him, admitting, “Now that I’m living alone, it worries me. Having to take care of this house all by myself.”

Joel gripped his glass tightly, a hesitant expression on his face. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. And if it offends you in any way, you’re more than welcome to just give me a good kick in the—”

“Joel!” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. “Just ask me the damn question already.”

“What happened between you two?”

The smile on your face faded away, but you didn’t seem upset at him. “Well, what all have you heard?”

Taking a sip of his scotch, Joel shrugged. “Couple of rumors here and there, but I ain’t the type to believe in gossip. Would rather hear the truth from the source.”

“What did Mrs. Adler have to say about it?”

He snorted into his glass. “That you two probably could have saved your marriage had you just gone to church.”

You couldn’t help but laugh—Mrs. Adler was nice enough, but that woman could really be something else. She was always telling people they had to get right with Jesus.

“So?” Joel prompted you. “What did he do?”

You sighed and turned your body slightly, angling it towards his. “He did quite a bit. Put me through hell, to be honest with you. But you know, I’m not the type to air someone’s dirty laundry. So, I’m not going to tell you what he did.” You paused, your fingers lightly tapping the sides of your glass. “But I’ll tell you what he didn’t do.”

Joel nodded silently, but in understanding.

“He didn’t treat me right. He didn’t treat me the way I deserved. He never wanted to spend time with me. He never wanted to be home with me, which is all I ever wanted from him. He’d travel so much for work, and when he would finally come back after being away, I would be so excited to just be with him.” You scoffed bitterly at the thought of it. “The minute he landed, he would drop his luggage off and head straight to some bar with his buddies. All I’d want is for him to just stay in with me for a night, watch a movie with me, talk with me because I missed him so much while he was gone. But he never chose me. He would never put me first, no matter how many times I asked.” You shrugged and leaned over, setting your glass of wine down on the wooden coffee table before leaning back into the couch. “It probably sounds really stupid but—”

Joel placed a hand on your bare knee, causing your flesh to erupt in goosebumps. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Finding a bit of courage, you placed your hand on top of his and continued on, “He never made me feel like I was someone worth fighting for, you know? Like my love was something worth fighting for. He made me feel like nothing, Joel. It got to the point where sometimes I believed it—I felt like I was nothing.”

Joel gave your knee a gentle squeeze. “I sure as hell hope you don’t feel that way now,” he said, his lips tugging down into a frown. “Because you’re fuckin’ everythin’.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his and you had to silently remind yourself to breathe.

Leaning over, Joel set his glass down on the coffee table right beside yours. He turned to you and lifted his hand, touching the side of your face, his thumb delicately sweeping over the silky skin of your cheek. “A woman like you deserves the world and nothin’ less. You know that, don’t you?”

“Joel?” You whispered out his name, your heart racing in your chest at a rate that you were certain had to be much too fast for the human body to withstand.

“Yeah?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Joel’s hand cradled your face gingerly as he obliged, leaning in so his lips could meet yours in the kiss that he’s been aching to give you for the last yen years. He was gentle and he was sweet with it, but after a minute, he found himself lightly nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth, silently asking permission for more. He felt your lips part slightly against his and he eagerly deepened the embrace, his hand moving to the back of your head while his other found your bare knee again.

Another wave of courage washed over you and you placed your two hands on his chest, pushing him back against the soft, velvet fabric of your couch. You swung a leg over both of his and straddled his lap, your hands now clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

Joel’s own hands went to your hips and he groaned into your kiss.

You pulled away from him, the tip of your nose lightly touching his as the two of you struggled to catch a breath.

“Let me be the one to treat you the way you deserve,” he murmured after a minute, lifting one of his hands to brush your hair back behind your shoulder; his fingertips lightly brushed against the strap of your dress, and it took every ounce of strength he had in him not to pull it down your arm. “Just give me the chance and I’ll hang the moon for you, darlin’—hell, for you I’ll hang the entire fuckin’ galaxy.”

Your heart swelling at his words, you grinned just before pressing your mouth to his once again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Joel chuckled with a smile against your lips.

You clung to him with fervor, kissing him with a passion that had the both of you seeing stars. Your hands were everywhere, touching, feeling anything part of him you could, eliciting another groan from him as you started grinding down into his lap. Your fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more.

“Whoa, whoa.” Joel caught both your hands in his and let out a breathless laugh. “Hey. Slow down, sweetheart.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, I-I thought you wanted—"

“Oh I do want it, trust me. Pretty sure you can feel how much I want it.” Joel chuckled again, knowing damn good and well that you could feel how hard he’d become for you as you sat in his lap. His hands toyed with the hem of your sundress. “Seein’ you in this dress all night, trust me I want nothin’ more than to have you right here, right now. But I like you way too fuckin’ much to risk messin’ this up by movin’ too fast.”

You pouted at him.

“Oh c’mon darlin’ put that lip away.” Joel lifted his hand, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “All I’m sayin’ is that we ain’t gotta rush this. Trust me, you’ve got me hooked already and I don’t plan on goin’ anywhere, alright?”

You almost groaned out in frustration.

He just had to be a fucking gentleman when it came to sex, too.

You sighed in defeat, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Fine,” You relented with a tiny eye roll, causing him to grin in amusement. You playfully poked his sternum. “But if you don’t fuck me senseless by the third date, we’re going have a problem, Miller.”

Joel groaned, feeling himself grow even harder at the way such a filthy statement had come out of a woman with the face of an angel. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’re goin’ to make it impossible for me to wait that long.”

“Maybe that’s the goal,” You winked at him.

“Just stop talkin’ and c’mere.” He pulled you forward, fusing your mouth to his once again.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller x original character #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #joel miller hbo

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 11 months

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I’m gonna write this down now so I can look like an absolute genius later (or look like a clown, but at least I said it with my full chest!)

❌ Spoilers for the FNAF Movie below! ❌

Ok, I might be huffing hopium here, but in my heart of hearts I STILL think Mike Schmidt is Mike Afton. If (or when) they make a sequel, there’s a way they can reveal this

So the most obvious thing from this movie is when Mike is in “Steve’s” office, and when “Steve” is reading Mike’s name out loud from his résumé, he stops mid-sentence. He looks at Mike for a weird amount of time, almost studying him, before completely changing the subject. There’s no way in hell “Steve” recognizes Mike from when he saw him as a kid when he kidnapped his brother Garrett 10+ ago, no chance. Also why would he go to Nebraska (unclear where the movie takes place, but let’s assume Utah because of the books) to kidnap a random kid and just drive off? Here’s what I think is going on…(also I’m gonna call him William from now on cuz we all know lol)

William fingered out that Mike is his son during that interview. My theory is that at some point, William was married and him and his wife have a son named Mike. And for one reason or another, they got divorced. This is when Mike was too young to really remember which is why he doesn’t recognize William during their meeting. Mike’s mom gains custody of Mike and remarries, she marries Mr. Schmidt. They have a child together, Garrett. Sometime after the divorce, William adopts a child, trying to cope after losing his only son. He adopts Vanessa.

William finds out about his ex-wife having another kid. He wants to cause her pain and suffering for leaving him. He follows the Schmidt’s and takes Garrett during the camping trip. Unable to handle the pain, Mike’s mom takes her own life, leaving Mike and his stepdad. Mr. Schmidt marries a little later to another woman, and she has a daughter named Abby. Sometime after this, both Mr. Schmidt and his new wife die, leaving Mike to care for Abby.

Vanessa owed William so much, he had adopted her while she had suffered in an orphanage for years. She would do anything he told her, even if it meant covering up his crimes. Years later, realizing what she was doing was wrong, she left her father and became a police officer, hoping to stop people like her father as she had failed to stop him.

Here’s another thing. Scott Cawthon knows that the fans are obsessed with the lore of FNAF. I think he knew he could make more movies, this isn’t going to be a one and done deal. Plus, he had his hand on this project every step of the way, he wouldn’t agree to anything that he didn’t want to happen in the story. Mike being William’s some is CRUCIAL to the story of FNAF (at least in the games). I think he’s trying to fake us out, you know how he loves to troll the fans!

Again, this is just a theory (A GAME THEORY lol), but I don’t think the idea of Mike being an Afton is dead just yet. Hoping and praying so I can look incredibly smart if or when the sequel drops 🙏🏻

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf spoilers #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy’s movie #five nights at freddy’s spoilers #five nights at freddy’s movie spoilers #william afton #steve raglan #mike schmidt #mike afton #michael afton #vanessa afton #scott cawthon #theory #garrett schmidt #abby schmidt #please god let me be right i’m begging

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 6 months

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All Falls Down - Chapter 11

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Present Day

“Joe imma need to you to get the fuck away from me… real talk.” Josh snarled, “You always wanna bring up some old shit. We graduated twenty-something years ago.” Joe rolled his eyes.

“Does it really matter how long ago it was Joshua? Y’all were dating. You had her give up her dream school to go to Alabama with you, then left her in Alabama by herself when you couldn’t keep your grades up. You always fuck up when it comes to Kiyana.”

Kofi Xavier and Sami shared a look, whatever was going on between Josh and Joe went back years and they weren’t sure if they wanted to get involved.

“Yo” Josh laughed “You deadass obsessed with my wife.” Josh stood up from his chair, pushing Xavier’s hand out of his way when he went to stop him and walked up into Joe’s face. “She’ll always be mine, Uce, my wife, the mother of my kids. So whatever plan you got cooking, you minds well put a end to it. She ain’t leaving me” Josh glared before shouldering Joe out of his way and walking out of catering to find Kiyana.

Kiyana had wound up back outside by the docks. She knew she should’ve stayed her ass in Florida. ‘You had planned to divorce KiKi and get with Shanté.’ Hearing Joe say that and then Josh not even attempting to deny it actually broke Kiyana to pieces. The affair was one thing that they maybe could have recovered from but this… there was no coming back, there was no fixing this marriage. It was over. Tears were pouring down her face at the thought of not being married to Josh anymore.

“I’m sorry.” She heard someone whisper from behind her. Kiyana wiped her tears and turned around, rolling her eyes at who was standing there. “Look, lets just go home aight and forget about all of this, aight?” Kiyana scoffed

“Forget? Josh, you want me to forget that you told some bitch that you wanted to divorce me for her? You really got me fucked up Joshua.”

“Kiyana, I never said that.” He tried to walk towards her but she held up her hand to stop him. “Come-on Key, I love you, you know that.”

“No, I thought I did.” She let out a sarcastic laugh and wiped her tears. “I thought that you loved me but it’s so obvious that you don’t. If you loved me you would’ve told me what happened between you and that woman the first time but you didn’t.You continued your affair for four months.”

“And I’m sorry for that Key. I’m gon fix this Kiyana. I have to fx this. You want me to quit? I’ll do it. It’s so many other wrestling promotions out there.” She shook her head.

“It’s too late Joshua,” She whispered, her heart feeling heavy in her chest. “This can’t be fixed.”

“What? No.” He said walking towards her, ignoring her warning of ‘stay away’ “I fuck up, that’s what I do and then I fix it. I always fix it.”

“Not this time.” She grabbed her bag and walked off without giving Josh a second glance. It was nearing midnight and all she wanted to do was lay in bed and cry her eyes out.

Josh blinked back tears as he watched his wife walk away from him. How could he fuck up this bad? He shoulda stopped the affair as soon as it happened but with Key in the hospital and worrying if she and Kairo were going to make it, Josh needed an outlet. He needed a way to vent and Shanté was there for him, no it should have never led to them having sex for four months, but he was a man with needs.

Ever since her father had died, Kiyana had pushed Josh away. Even him trying to rub her stomach to feel his son had her bitching and complaining and maybe that was the reason why he didn’t stop the affair. He just wished he could go back in time and walk away from Shanté when she asked him out for that drink.

Joe walked out of the arena just as Kiyana walked away from Josh and he had to hide his smirk. ‘Not leaving you my ass’ Joe thought as he walked past Josh and in the direction Kiyana went.

“KiKi!” Joe called out after her, breaking out into a light jog to catch up to her. “Hey, come on. I’ll take you back to my bus.” She shook her head, eyes still glued to her phone as she looked up flights to Pensacola.

“No Joseph. I just wanna go home okay.” She said almost tempted to throw her phone as she only saw flight that left tomorrow afternoon. “I should have stayed home. Coming here was a bad idea and you were no help! Like why did you have to blurt that out!”

“So what, he’s the only one that gets to cheat? That’s not right Kiyana!” He sighed and took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. “You don’t deserve what he did to you Kiyana and he should feel all of the pain that he made you feel.” Kiyana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I just want to go home.” She sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Can you take me to a hotel?”

“No, you can stay on my bus, I’ll stay out in the living room and you can stay in my room.” When she opened her mouth to decline, Joe shook his head and raised his voice, talking over her. “I’m not taking no for an answer Kiki.”

“Fine,” She muttered. “Where’s your bus?"

Joe was jolted away when his driver hit a pothole. He sat up on the couch and stretched, frowning when he heard Kiyana sniffling in his room. Josh should pay for what he’s done to her. She didn’t deserve any of this. He stood up from the couch and stretched the muscles in his back before walking over to the closed door and knocking on it.

“You alright in there Kiyana?” He asked softly, feeling his heart ache at the sound of her choked sobs.

“Yeah, sorry if I woke you up.” She said softly, Joe having to strain his ears to hear her over the sound of the bus’s engine.

“It’s all good Kiki.” He said and then after a moment of silence asked, “can I come in.” Kiyana didn’t say anything but he heard her feet pad across the floor then heard the lock clicking. “You wanna talk about it?” Joe asked once he walked into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, his body half-way turned towards her.

“Not really,” She said softly, shrugging and wiping her nose with some tissue. Joe nodded and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “How could he do this to me Joey? After everything we've been through.” she whimpered, picking at stray strings in his blanket.

“He’s a moron Kiyana.” Joe whispered back, turning his head to the side to look at her. Even with her puffy eyes and slightly snotty nose, she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“What am I going to tell my kids?” She asked, looking up at him. Joe moved up the bed, resting his back against the headboard and pulled Kiyana into his arms.

“Don’t worry about that right now KiKi.” He muttered, stroking his hand up and down her arm. “You’re a good ass mom, you gon figure everything out for you and your kids.”

“Thank you,” Kiyana broke the silence after a while. “You’ve been a really great friend through all of this.” She whispered, looking up at him and he smiled down at her.

“You know I'm always gon be here for you KiKi.” He whispered back, eyes jumping back and forth from the lips back up to her eyes. Fuck it. Joe and Kiyana thought simultaneously, both of their heads moving towards each other, their lips meeting in an passionate kiss.

Kiyana moaned into his mouth as he pulled up on top of him. “Wait-Wait.” Joe said as he broke the kiss, throwing his head back and moaning when she started to place kisses up and down his neck. “You sure you wanna do this.” he moaned again when she started to suck on her earlobe.

Kiyana moved away from his neck and cupped his jaw in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. “I want to do this Joe.” she affirmed, before reaching down and pulling her oversized shirt off of her, leaving her in her emerald green top and matching green and black lace panties.

“Goddamn baby girl” He said as she also took off her top, her nipple perking up from the coldness of the room. Josh is a fucking idiot. Joe thought as he slid his hands up from her wait to cup her breast. She moaned and grinded her hips down on his lap as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucking on it before moving over to the other one.

Kiyana let out a loud laugh when Joe flipped them over so she was on her back looking up at him. She reached up and released his hair from the bun it was in. “One last chance to back out Kiki.”

Instead of answering him, she reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging him down so they were chest to chest and bit his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. “I want you Joe” Joe nodded and stood from the bed, eagerly taking his shirt off and pushing his shorts and briefs down his legs.

She hummed appreciatively as she eyed his growing erection. Joe smirked down at her and stroked his dick. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a moan as he leaned down and placed open mouth kisses on her stomach leading to her sex.

He let out a deep moan as he pushed her legs apart and draped them over his shoulders “Fuck, I made you this wet baby?”

“Joe” She moaned as he took his thumb and ran it up and down her slit before circling her clit. “Fuck yes” She whispered as her back arched off the bed when his tongue replaced his thumb. He circled her clit with his tongue before closing his lips around it. One of her hands flew to his head, gripping his hair and he moaned when she tugged on it.

“You taste so fuckin’ good” Your husband is a dumbass he wanted to add but figured it would ruin the mood. “Hold them legs up for me.” He said ,then watched in awe as her toes damn near touched the bed by her ears. “Uh huh, just like that” he whispered before bringing his mouth back down to her pussy.

She bit her bottom lip, soft moan escaping as she watched him basically devour her pussy. Her moans ,getting louder and louder when Joe circled his middle finger around her entrance before pushing it inside of her. He let out a deep moan as her pussy clenched around his finger.

“Mmmm.” She moaned, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “I’m boutta cum Joe.”

“Go head baby, cum in my mouth.” He winked before wrapping his lips around her clit again and pumping his fingers in and out of her faster, moaning when her juices flooded his mouth. He placed a soft kiss on the inside of each thigh before scooting back up the bed, settling his lower body between her open legs.

Both of them letting out moans once their lips met. Joe gripped his dick in his hands, sliding it up and down her slit before he pushed only the tip in. He pulled out, smearing her essence up and down her slit again, tapping her clit before, slowly pushing his length inside of her.

“Mmm fuck” Kiyana gasped out against Joe’s lips and he started moving his length in and out of her.

Josh woke up to his phone ringing, a special ringtone that he had set for Kiyana. He immediately answered it.

“Jesus Key,you got me out here worried and shit , where are you?”

“Oh, fuck Joe right there!” Josh blinked, still holding the phone to his ear as his wife’s moans and his cousin's groans came through his cell phone’s speaker.

“Kiyana?” Josh whispered, bottom lip wobbling as his heart was literally being torn from his cheat.

“Shit, Mmhm you grippin’ the fuck out my dick KiKi.” Josh dropped the phone like he had been burned by it, staring down at it in horror.

🤣

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fic #jey uso smut #roman reigns smut #jey uso fanfic #jey uso x fem reader

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guiltyasdave · 3 months

Text

say you'll remember me

chapter 5 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: The aftermath. (Because I am dramatic)

word count: 1.9k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, slut shaming, pure angst I'M SORRY

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

i'm sorry that this took so long and also about the... contents of this. it's the last official chapter, but there will be an epilogue. if this is stressing you out and you'd feel more comfortable knowing if there will be a happy ending, please feel free to shoot me a dm <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

“Where’s my what?”

David steps through the open bedroom door, pulling a washed out t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair even further than it was before. He’s not wearing pants, only the briefs that he so eagerly got out of less than an hour ago. He freezes at the scene in front of him.

You’re painfully aware of your own appearance, painfully aware of how obvious it is what you’re doing here. There’s zero chance of talking your way out of this one.

Your father is still standing in the doorway, jaw clenched impossibly tight, his gaze flickering between the two of you. You steal a glance at David, finding his eyes already on you. Regret is swimming in them, threatening to drown you both, and you know that he’s come to the same conclusion. You’re done for.

“What the fuck is this?”

It’s clipped, the quiet and cold tone that you’ve had a lifetime to get used to, but it’s tinged in anger, with an intensity that you’ve never heard before. The step you take back comes instinctively, following the desperate urge to get closer to the man behind you, the man who makes you feel safe, even now. A scowl forms on your father’s face as he clocks the movement.

“Jim–” David tries, arm halfway raised like he’s reaching out. To you or to your father, you’re not sure.

“I was in the area, thought I’d drop by, even though you weren’t answering your phone.” His chuckle is devoid of humor, his eyes flashing darkly. “Guess you were busy.”

“Dad, please…” You’re not sure what you even want to ask for. For him to hear you out, to understand?

He shakes his head, looking you up and down, disdain written clear over his face.

“Put some clothes on, Jesus Christ. I’m taking you home.”

You look at David again, desperate for just a hint of comfort, no matter how small. The promise that, somehow, everything will be fine. He gives you a curt nod towards the bedroom, no discernible emotion in his expression.

You’re uncomfortably aware of the expanse of your bare legs under his shirt as you walk back into the room, the place that has become your sanctuary over the past weeks.

“Jim, listen,” you hear David’s voice through the open door. “We just– we were talking if maybe I could get her an internship at the DIA, and it– it just happened. It was a one time thing, I swear. And a mistake. I–I’m so sorry.”

Lies. They seem to fall from his lips so easily, like a story that he had prepared for a long time. Maybe he did.

“I really don’t give a shit, Dave.”

You hear David sigh, can see his accompanying expression in your mind. The pursed lips, the firm jaw.

“I guess that’s fair.”

You don’t want to leave, don’t want the tense car ride, don’t want to be alone in your room and replay this over and over. You’re already circling through scenarios how this could have gone differently.

Why did you have to go open the door? Why didn’t you let David get it? Why did none of you notice his phone ringing? Why hadn’t you been more careful?

When you re-emerge from the room, neither of them has moved. Your father’s expression is unreadable, a stoic kind of coldness that doesn’t betray any feelings he might have.

You can’t help looking at David’s face when you pass him, searching for comfort, reassurance, anything. Some sign that he didn’t mean it when he said you and him had been a mistake. But he’s staring at the floor, his face like a mask.

You bite your lip, avoiding your father’s gaze when you step past him and down the stairwell. He’s gonna have more to say about this, you know it.

He’s fulfilling your expectation after a few minutes of silence, the tension in the car so thick that it feels like you’re getting crushed by the sheer weight of it.

“Always taking the easy route, aren’t you?! Rather just spread your legs than to put in some actual work, fucking hell…”

Your lips fall open at his words, a disbelieving huff escaping you.

“Dad, that’s not–”

“That’s exactly what it is,” he cuts you off, his grip tight on the steering wheel, venom spitting from his mouth. “I didn’t think I raised you to be a whore.”

You snap your mouth shut, staring straight ahead, tears brimming in your eyes. It had never even crossed your mind, the thought that you’d get anything like a job out of your… situation with David. It was never your motivation. You just– wanted him. Wanted him to like you.

It hurts, hurts more than you want to admit to yourself, to have your own father jump to that conclusion so quickly. To know that he has no issues seeing you like that, thinking of you like that.

“You embarrassed me,” he continues, even angrier than before. “Throwing yourself at the first man you see.”

Heat is rising in your cheeks. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a whispered sound, shame ringing with the words. You don’t want to apologize, but it comes like an instinct, the only acceptable option that you have.

“You’re gonna stay home for the next two weeks, until your break is over. You’re gonna study and maybe, if you show me that it’s not a complete waste of money, I’ll keep paying for that goddamn school.”

Your head whips around to stare at his stony profile beside you. He’s grounding you?!

“Dad, I’m not a child!”

He shrugs, pulling up to the house.

“Well, since you’re acting as irresponsible as a child, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

He doesn’t stop you when you throw open the car door, fumbling with the house keys before you get the door open and stomp up to your room. Angry tears are blurring your vision, blood pounding loudly in your ears.

You’re not thinking straight, thumbs flying over your phone screen, a message about how this doesn’t mean anything, how you’ll figure this out, how much you still want him, flowing from your fingertips. David doesn’t respond.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, tossing and turning in your sheets, your dreams full of vague shapes and scenarios, replaying the day’s events over and over.

Your father checks on you the next morning, pointedly asking about your plans for the day, seemingly content with your mumbled, spiritless responses about revising coursework and working on applications for an internship.

“You can do better than the DIA, you realize that, right? Hardly any money to make there.”

You nod silently, forcing down the ragefit about how you don’t give a shit about the DIA, or about any job for that matter, that it never fucking was about that.

You’ve never had a particularly strong intention to actually follow your father’s orders and not leave the house, but it’s out of the window when your phone finally vibrates with a message from David, asking if it’s possible for you to meet him.

You’re out the door in a heartbeat, paying no mind to the security cameras recording you, to the consequences of this. It’s like you’re on autopilot, the stress of the past 24 hours erasing all rational thoughts from your mind.

David meets you at the door, a sight so painfully familiar and yet entirely new, because of the look on his face. Devoid of emotion, a mask of the man that you know, but not this version of him. He pulls you into an embrace, one that you desperately want to melt into, but his arms are stiff around you, coldness seeping into your bones despite the warmth of his body. You suppress a shiver when he doesn’t even lead you further into the apartment. You’re standing in the hallway, the short distance between you suddenly unbridgeable. From the corner of your eye, you notice his bedroom door. Firmly closed, once more.

“Sweetheart–” he begins, rubbing his neck with one hand. A nervous gesture, so vastly different from the self-assured, always in control David that you’re so intimately familiar with.

The rational part of you knows what this means, can almost predict the words that he’s gonna say next. It gives you a strange sense of déjà vu, reminds you of another time when you were in this apartment, so sure that he didn’t want you, that he was going to end this thing with you.

You were mistaken back then. You know that you’re not mistaken now, because the David in front of you is nothing like the one from back then. It’s glaringly obvious, the difference between them, the cold determination that you see in his eyes only right now.

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? F–for real this time?”

Your voice barely wavers, your eyes don’t stray from his face. It’s like you’re walking through a dream, through a living nightmare, eerily aware of what’s gonna happen next but with no way to do anything about it.

Hurt flashes in his eyes, gritting his teeth, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He only manages a silent nod.

You feel your face crumbling, hot tears finally springing to your eyes. Your throat grows tight.

“Please… please don’t. Please.” You have to beg, have to at least try.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. “I never should have– it was a mistake. You know that, right?”

You shake your head, eyes wide and silently pleading with him, unable to form words. He sighs, pain clear on his features as he cups your cheek.

“Baby, I– I wish things were different, but– you’re so young. You’ve still got your whole life– you don’t need me. I never should have allowed this. I’m sorry that I did.”

You choke out his name, the one that, unbeknownst to you, no one else uses. That he’ll never let anyone else use again.

“But I want you,” you whisper, stepping closer, pressing your face into the familiar crook of his neck, breathing in the comfort that the scent of him brings. He chuckles weakly, a humorless sound, gently moving out of your embrace, his large hands finding your shoulders instead, prompting you to look at him.

“You shouldn’t. I’m not– I’m not worth it. I won’t let you fuck up your life over this.”

Acceptance and denial are battling in your heart, the knowledge that you kind of always had but buried away deep down finally resurfacing. He isn’t yours to lose and he never was.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, tears silently streaming down your face. You need to ask, need to know if this ever meant as much to him as it did to you. “Will you miss me at all?” Will you even remember me?

His lips tilt up in a sad smile, and you could swear that his eyes are glassy as he gently presses his mouth against your forehead one last time.

“Always, sweetheart.”

.........................................please remember that i love you

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: wildest dreams

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gingiesworld · 11 months

Text

Blurred Lines

Requested

CEO Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Strap On (Wanda Receiving) Fingering (Wanda Receiving)

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic

AN: In memory of our fave Friends actor, Matthew Perry. The guy who brought us all to laughter with the best character ever. RIP Matthew Perry you awesome legend.

Word Count: 2.9k

18+ MINORS DNI

Maximoff Industries, run by the most respected woman in all of New York, of course her recent divorce was publicized and her children were also thrown into the limelight, which made having a private life extremely difficult for her and her family. But one thing she never expected to happen was meeting her secretary's room mate and best friend.

"Who is this?" Wanda asked as she spotted the taller woman standing beside Natasha.

"This is Y/N, my bestie." Nat smiled as she introduced the two.

"It's nice to meet you." Y/N held her hand out for the brunette to shake. "You also look better as a brunette, the red didn't suit you."

"Thank you." Wanda smiled as she shook her hand. "It was my ex who preferred the red."

"Well, he is clearly stupid." Y/N smiled as Nat watched the two. "I have to go back to work." She told them both with a smile, Wanda watched as Y/N disappeared down the hall, biting her lip before she turned to Nat.

"Does she work here?" Wanda asked her as Nat shook her head.

"She had an interview with Peggy in Finances for the assistant supervisor." Nat informed her.

"Can you ask Peggy to see me in my office please." Wanda told her. "Immediately." She entered her office, only waiting a moment before there was a knock on her door.

"You wanted to see me ma'am?" Peggy spoke as she opened the door.

"The interviews from today, who is the highest contender?" Wanda asked as she looked over the schedule she had received.

"There are two who would be extremely beneficial to the company." She started. "Pepper Potts, she is fresh from being Tony Stark's assistant." Wanda shook her head no. "And there is Y/N Y/L/N, she worked closely with Norman Osborn at Oscorp."

"Y/L/N is the obvious option." Wanda stated. "Hire her." She told her as she didn't want to hire her ex brother-in-law's assistant. So the following Monday, Y/N had carpooled with Nat to work, and the two made their way up to Wanda's office. Y/N sat waiting for Ms Maximoff to arrive as Nat started to get to work, sorting through Wanda's schedule for the day.

"Y/N, follow me." Wanda told her as she walked past the two. Y/N was fast on her heels, closing the office door behind her. "I will need you to fill out these forms for me, give Nat your I.D. so she can make photocopies for our company files." Y/N nodded as Wanda spoke. "Also, you and I will be working closely together as you will soon be taking over for Miss Carter, she is retiring soon and I need a fully qualified CFO."

"Yes ma'am." Y/N nodded as she took the forms from her hands.

"I will need the forms back at the end of the day." She told her. "And please call me Wanda."

"Of course Wanda." Y/N smiled as she gazed at Wanda intensely before leaving. Wanda couldn't understand the way she made her feel. She had never really looked at another woman like this before, she didn't even know it was possible since she was forced to marry her Ex by her parents or they would have disowned her. Of course with their passing, she had built up the courage to get out of her marriage as she ran the family business.

As the days turned to weeks, Wanda found herself working late on some days, Y/N was always the one who stayed with her, working on strategy plans to keep some of the company deals that they were at risk of losing.

"Do you want a drink?" Wanda asked Y/N who only hummed a quiet yes, going over the information she had before her eyes.

"I think we need to let go of some employees." Y/N told her. "Cut back by one or two in each department. We can split the work between the remaining employees accordingly."

"I don't want to talk about that right now." Wanda groaned as she took a seat beside Y/N, handing her a glass of bourbon.

"I didn't know you were a hard spirit kind of woman." Y/N teased her, watching as Wanda leaned on the back of the sofa. Observing Y/N's movements as she came up with a viable strategy for the company's future.

"How are you single?" Wanda questioned as she watched Y/N intently, the pen between her teeth as she turned to meet Wanda's gaze.

"I guess I never really found the one." Y/N shrugged. "My ex hated my dedication to my previous job, so she left me. Well, I caught her with my old friend."

"I'm sorry that happened to you." Wanda spoke softly as Y/N shrugged.

"It's ok." She smiled as she sipped her drink. "Love isn't for everyone."

"I think it is." Wanda spoke as she placed her glass down. "There is someone out there for each of us, it's just that we don't usually see what's right in front of us."

"And what do you see?" Y/N asked as Wanda inhaled deeply.

"You." She spoke as Y/N's eyes darkened as she gazed at Wanda's flushed chest, rising and falling rapidly. "A woman with strong arms and anyone would be lucky to have you. To just be in your embrace for the rest of their life."

"Is that what you want?" Y/N asked as she leaned in slightly.

"I don't know what I want." Wanda whispered, her underwear becoming damp with her arousal. "But I know what I need." With that she closed the gap, taking Y/N's lips on her own, her hands resting on Y/N's shoulders as she moved to straddle Y/N's lap. Her hands instantly held Wanda's waist before her hands ventured up her spine, holding her close as the kiss deepened. Neither of them were drunk enough for this to be known as a drunken mistake, all they both knew was they needed each other.

Y/N lay Wanda down on the sofa, unbuttoning her blouse as she kissed her passionately, their tongues dancing together as Y/N took all control. Wanda became a panting mess as Y/N's hand ventured under her skirt, pushing her underwear aside as her fingers ran through her folds, collecting the arousal before she made tentative movements on her clit.

"Fuck." Wanda gasped as Y/N moved her kisses down, taking a nipple in her mouth as Wanda arched her back, needing more than she was getting at this moment. "More. Please." She whined. "I need more."

Y/N complied as she plunged two fingers deep inside her, watching how Wanda's face changed due to the pleasure she was receiving. Y/N's name falling from her lips as she came undone, a panting mess as she soon calmed down.

"You taste so fine." Y/N smiled as she pulled her fingers from her mouth before kissing Wanda hard.

The next day, the two needed to set boundaries, so that was what they had done in the privacy of Wanda's office.

"We can't be anything more." Wanda told her as she sat in her chair. "I've just gotten through a messy divorce and I have two boys."

"I can be mature and just have fun Wanda." Y/N smirked as Wanda chuckled. "Besides, I am not going to blur the lines, I can keep my emotions in check."

Well, the two of them thought that was the case as what started out as quickies in the office turned into Wanda staying over at Y/N's and sneaking out before Nat woke up.

"We can't keep doing this." Wanda whispered as Y/N locked the office door before approaching her. A solemn look on her face at the realisation of the feelings the two share.

"Wanda." She started as she took Wanda's hands on her own. "We can do this." She held them close to her chest as Wanda closed her eyes, allowing Y/N to pull her closer. "I don't care that you have children or an ex husband. I know I will always be third."

"Second." Wanda corrected her. "It will be my children and then you."

"I thought the company." Y/N started as Wanda shook her head. A small smile on her lips.

"You will always come before the company." Wanda caressed her cheek as Y/N smiled, leaning down and claiming her lips with her own. Her hands soon wrapped around Wanda's waist, pulling her impossibly closer, causing a moan to escape Wanda as she felt the toy concealed within the confines of Y/N's dress pants. "Fuck, are you packing?" She questioned with a raised brow as Y/N just smirked, her hands trailing along Wanda's waist, pulling her blouse out of her skirt. Wanda's hands started to undo Y/N's blouse as they sloppily kissed roughly. Y/N had Wanda on her knees in no time, groaning at the sight of her red painted lips around the silicone toy.

"Fuck. You look so pretty on your knees for me." Y/N groaned as she gripped Wanda's hair, thrusting her hips into Wanda's face. "The great Wanda Maximoff on her knees, my little cock slut." Wanda moaned at her words, her cheeks flushed and her arousal dripping down her thighs. She whimpered as Y/N pulled her hair, pulling her away from the strap, the saliva leaving a string behind as Y/N brought her to her feet. "Face the window." Y/N ordered as Wanda was quick to do as she told. Spreading her legs as she looked over the busy city below, people rushed to and from lunch breaks as she stood bare against the cool glass. Her nipplea hardened against the glass as she moaned as Y/N slapped her ass before massaging it. "Such a good girl." Y/N bit her ear as she teased her with the strap. "Give everyone a good show, I want everyone to see how good I make you feel." Wanda moaned as the toy slipped past her entrance, Y/N's hands on her hips helping her remain steady as her hands were flat against the glass.

"Oh." Wanda moaned as Y/N snapped her hips, the toy moving out and leaving just the tip inside before thrusting harshly once more.

"Keep your eyes open." Y/N told her as she groaned, fastening her pace as she fucked her. The sound of Wanda's moans and the squelching of her arousal was music to her ears, her now favorite song. "Fuck. You take me so well Wanda." She went harder with each thrust, her fingertips bruising the skin on Wanda's hips. Neither caring for the people in the neighbouring skyscraper having a show. "You have no idea what you do to me." She groaned as she pressed her body up against Wanda's. The heat building between the two as Wanda's orgasm neared.

"I need to cum." Wanda whispered as Y/N grunted at her small tone. "Please let me cum." She pleaded as Y/N's head moved into her neck, licking and biting the skin.

"Let go for me." She whispered as she pressed tender kisses to Wanda's skin. A loud moan left her lips as she came, just in time for her machine to pick up a call.

"Miss Maximoff, the twins school had called, they need to see you asap."

"Fuck." Wanda whimpered as Y/N pulled out, Wanda was quick to gather her clothes, throwing Y/N a blouse, not bothering to see who's it was. "I have to go." Wanda said as she fixed her hair. "But I need you to stay here." She reached inside her desk drawer, a set of handcuffs as she pushed Y/N to sit on her chair, putting the handcuffs on her wrist as she handcuffed her to the chair.

"What?" Y/N tried. "Wanda, what if someone walks in and sees me? I am practically nude with a strap!! And I am wearing your blouse because it is abnormally tight!!"

"Please Y/N." She pleaded as she fixed herself. "Here, I'll be back as soon as I can." She places Y/N's jacket on her lap before placing the keys on the shelf above the bourbon. Y/N groaned as she walked out, leaving Y/N alone and handcuffed to the chair.

"Fuck." Y/N mumbled as she tried to wriggle free, hoping to break the plastic arm rest. Soon giving up and counting the ceiling tiles above. As an uncertain amount of time past, Y/N was left feeling uncomfortable. Soon the phone rang and it was Wanda's voice.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, Billy had a fall and I am currently at the hospital with him." She spoke in a hushed voice. "I know I said I wouldn't be long but we are just waiting for the x-ray results. I'll see you soon." Y/N slammed her head on the desk with a tired groan, closing her eyes for a brief moment, only to look up like a deer in headlights at the sound of keys in the door.

"Oh, I am so happy to see you." Y/N smiled as she saw Nat walk in with some files.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned as she hurriedly closed the door.

"Well, Wanda and I have been having sex, for months." Y/N told her. "And we have obviously had sex earlier and now I am handcuffed to this bloody chair." Y/N gradually raised her voice as she spoke, shaking the chair with her whole body. "But." She took a breath to calm down. "The key is just above the bourbon, so if you would please uncuff me so I can get dressed."

"Y/N." Nat shook her head, an unsure look in her eye. "Wanda will be expecting you as such." She gestured to her posture. "And I can't afford to lose my job because I actually like working here. Without the sex part."

"Come on!" Y/N pleaded as she moved from around the desk, her jacket falling from her lap.

"Oh come on!" Nat covered her eyes as she spotted the arousal stained strap on. "Wheel yourself back."

"Please Nat." Y/N pleaded. "I will buy you anything."

"I need a new Nintendo Switch." She told her. "Yelena borrowed mine and we both know that I will not be getting it back."

"Sold! Now get me free." Y/N told her as Nat moved to get the key.

"So, those nights you had someone in your bedroom, that was Wanda. Our boss?" She questioned as Y/N nodded.

"Yes it was." She answered. "Now please let me out of here!" She begged. "This shirt is unbelievably tight and these cuffs are starting to hurt me."

"You and Wanda do have the same style, which is weird." Nat admitted as she approached her. "But she did look much better in a looser blouse."

"Don't you dare." Y/N snarled. "She is mine." Nat just giggled as she undone one of the cuffs, Y/N massaged their wrist before the door soon opened.

"Nat? What are you?" Wanda rambled as she looked between the two.

"I know about the two of you." Nat told her. "But please don't fire me. I can't live off of Y/N's paycheck."

"Can you sit with Billy, he's just outside at your desk." Wanda asked as Nat nodded, closing the door behind her.

"She took the key." Y/N pointed out, just a moment later, Nat opened the door slightly and handed Wanda the key. "How is Billy?" Y/N asked her as she undone the other.

"He is fine, he has a hairline fracture so nothing too serious." Wanda told her as Y/N bent down to put on her pants, soon hearing the blouse tearing causing Wanda to giggle. "I think we need to wear different blouses."

"You think?" Y/N asked with a raised brow.

"It's not my fault you are buff." Wanda squeezed her biceps as she looked up in Y/N's eyes. "But it is a bonus to have strong arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe."

"I'll always keep you safe." Y/N kissed her softly as she grabbed her jacket. "Luckily I have a spare in my office." Y/N approached the door, hand resting on the handle as Wanda spoke.

"I think I love you." She told her, a smile formed on Y/N's face before she turned around to Wanda, approaching her and kissing her softly before pulling away and looking in her eyes.

"I think I love you too." She smiled before kissing her once more before she left the office. Wanda smiled as her heart swelled at the growing love between the two of them. Love comes to us all at different times of our lives, the journey we take to find the one who makes your heartbeat rapidly and your smile grow impossibly bigger. Wanda has finally found that love in the woman who works alongside her.

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