#again tho still open for discussion

[reineydraws]

Why didn't you draw Babs with the Batfamily . You stupid bitch . Don't treat Babs that way. She's the queen and far more popular than any of the batfamily members!

wow! your question is valid but your tone is rude and i dont appreciate it. dont tell me how to treat fictional characters when you dont even treat your fan creators nicely.

babs isnt in the photo because she's setting up as oracle; in the caption i mention she sent up a drone to take the photo. babs is great and i love her but there are 11 people in the original photo and i based this in the wfa 'verse where there are also 11 gotham capes (that ive seen so far) on the streets that have babs at the helm, in the clocktower, being oracle. as a result of this train of thought, i unfortunately ended up not picturing her. it isnt bc of any specific babs hate on my part.

[todayisafridaynight]

masato being grossed out by jo and masumi being together is so funny because. who do you think gave him The Talk? masumi braces himself to teach his son about safe sex and masato cannot leave the room faster. third worst day of his life

NOO BECAUSE THE OTHER DAY I WAS THINKING OF THE INEVITABLE SCENARIO OF MASATO GETTING 'THE TALK' AND IT MADE ME UGLY LAUGH

[julesnichols]

One day (when I've slept enough to both remember enough to make all of my points and be coherent) I'll explain what I meant when I joked about Sophie being worse

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[songsbygumi]

That’s Where You’re Wrong

| Megumi x reader

Summary- What happens when your best friend, Okkotsu Yuta, steals all of your attention away from Megumi?

Warnings - English it's not my first language, female reader and mention of "y/n" (just onnce tho).

A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP but can be read as a standalone.

The day Fushiguro Megumi realizes he likes you is, without a doubt, the worst day of his life.

It’s one of those evenings where the two of you are sitting in the living room, casually discussing books, or watching silly YouTube videos. However, tonight is different. You're furiously typing on your computer, racing to finish Kusakabe-sensei's homework before the midnight deadline, while Megumi sits silently on the floor, absorbed in his book.

His eyes are growing heavy, but he would rather sleep on the floor than leave you alone. Closing his book, he hides a yawn in his forearm and moves to sit on the couch next to you, struggling to keep his eyes open. He watches you chew your bottom lip, pausing for a moment to consider what else you could add to meet the thousand-word minimum. "Cute," he thinks.

“You can go to sleep, Gumi. I'm almost finished,” you say, your eyes meeting his briefly as you offer a tired smile before returning to your screen.

He doesn't respond, simply continuing to watch you as you type away on your computer. He knows you’ve finished when a sigh of relief escapes your lips and you shut the laptop closed. In the next moment, you silently gather your personal items, and this is what Megumi adores most about your relationship—the silent communication you two have developed and perfected over your short time of friendship.

Everything is perfect for a moment before you exclaim, “OH MY GOD, YUTA!”

The peace and quiet that previously reigned is shattered by your squeals of joy as you watch Okkotsu Yuta enter the living room. Megumi has never seen you move so quickly; you practically leap over the coffee table and couches to be swept up into Okkotsu's arms, your feet lifting off the ground.

“You’re back! Are you hurt?” Megumi feels like an intruder as he watches you step back to inspect Okkotsu for any possible injuries, only to hug him again once you’re reassured that he’s unharmed.

Something twists inside Megumi, burning him from the inside. Are normal hugs this long? He remains rooted to the spot, unsure why he hasn’t said anything or simply left. He watches the two of you talk, your body close to Okkotsu’s, your voice brimming with energy that was absent a moment ago, and your eyes shining brighter. It’s as if Okkotsu’s presence has brought you back to life.

“Still losing sleep, I see,” Okkotsu says, finally releasing you and noticing Megumi over your shoulder. “Hi, Fushiguro.” Megumi responds with a short, quick salute, feeling another twist in his stomach as he catches the mischievous smile Okkotsu directs at you.

Megumi's gaze is fixed on you, all the way across the cafeteria. He hasn’t touched his food, too engrossed in watching you talk animatedly to Okkotsu. You're wearing the sweater he had on last night, and he feels a surge of anger.

“You okay, Fushiguro?” Itadori asks, concern evident in his voice. Sure, Megumi usually stares at you, but it’s never been this obvious. Itadori doesn’t even consider that Megumi might be aware of his staring—it's become a common occurrence, just as you staring at him is equally normal.

“Fine,” he says, but his gaze remains fixed on you. “Has she always looked that beautiful?” he mutters.

Itadori chokes on a piece of rice, unsure if he heard correctly what Fushiguro just said. I mean, he knew you liked Fushiguro—Kugisaki filled him in when he came back to Jujutsu High. And of course, it was obvious Fushiguro was different around you, but again, he wasn’t sure if Fushiguro himself realized it.

Itadori’s cough captures the attention of the second years, prompting your gazes to meet across the room. Megumi feels a sudden warmth flooding his cheeks, igniting them with a fiery blush.

He hasn't spoken to you all day; you've been too preoccupied with Okkotsu. Every time he catches sight of you, you're with him, and it makes his blood boil.

“What’s got you so grumpy today?” Kugisaki queries as they sit together in the library, scouring for information for their homework.

"Nothing," he replies curtly.

Kugisaki finds Fushiguro's jealousy amusing. It's evident to every soul in the school that your eyes are only for him, so obvious that sometimes he wants to smack his head against a wall for being so blind. So, if Okkotsu Yuta is the final piece for him to realize that he likes you, then so be it.

"Okay," she accepts quietly, an innocent smile spreading across her face before she asks, "Have you seen y/n? Haven't seen her all day."

A vein threatens to pop in Megumi's temple as Kugisaki inquiries about your whereabouts. He longs to tell her that you've been with Okkotsu Yuta all day, and he misses you terribly—your smile, your giggles, even your complaints about Kusakabe-sensei assigning too much homework, or the way your cheeks blush when he compliments you.

"Gotta go," he says abruptly, rising from his seat and leaving a grinning Kugisaki behind.

Megumi sits alone in a classroom, gazing out of the window. Outside, you're with your friends, immersed in the book he recommended to you a couple of days ago. Your head is resting on Okkotsu’s thigh, and something inside Megumi snaps.

The divine dog barks happily at you, seeking your hand for a pet, and you oblige with a smile, its tail wagging furiously once you're fully engaged in petting its head.

“Didn’t think you were this petty, Megumi,” Gojo's voice breaks through Megumi's trance.

“Don’t think I know what you're talking about, Gojo-sensei,” He replies, and Gojo can sense the truth in his words; he just can't see it.

“Hmm, bottling and denying your feelings so much has made you blind to them,” Gojo remarks, signaling to Megumi to look in your direction. Your head now rests on the fluffy buddy of the dog, Okkotsu, engaged in conversation with Maki. "You'd have to be blind not to see it."

"I know," he says, feeling defeated.

He shouldn't feel this way. After all, you're just friends. He doesn't even like you like that, right? Sure, he loves seeing you smile and adores the way the corners of your lips lift in happiness when you see him. He likes the way your cheeks flush when you're embarrassed, the sound of your laugh, and how you play with his hair.

These are all things friends do, right? Except that, unlike with Kugisaki and Itadori, he doesn’t feel like his heart is going to race out of his chest when he sees them. He doesn’t want to admire their faces every second of the day or listen to them talk for the rest of his life (God forbid).

Megumi wants you all the time. He wants to be in your presence every hour of the day. It's hard enough for him not having you in the same classroom. Just look at him—one day without you, and he feels like he's going insane. Watching you next to Okkotsu almost breaks him. Maybe these aren’t just things friends feel.

"You'd have to be blind not to see that Yuta is head over heels for Maki," Gojo interrupts his train of thought. Wait, what?

Megumi's head snaps to the window, taking in the scene. You're focused on your book while Toge is fast asleep on the grass, and Yuta can't stop staring at Maki. Oh shit, he feels pathetic.

Then it happens—your gaze meets his for the second time that day. You smile at him, waving happily, and suddenly, the sky it’s a scissor. He was so jealous of Okkotsu Yuta because he likes you.

“Well, this is going to be a headache because there’s no way she likes me back.” Gojo wants to facepalm so badly this will never end.

[wolfiesmoon]

Bakery

Leona x gn!reader

ok but can we feel the love tonight tho

i learned something new recently and i want to put this knowledge to good use (smirks evilly at leona)

also i am sick asf right now so i apologise if this is sloppily proofread

It seems like being Leona's pillow has become a part of your daily at this point. It's become an unspoken routine for you.

Usually, he'd sleep anywhere but he had to adapt his sleeping habits a little because of you. Turns out most people don't find the floor of the greenhouse a comfortable napping spot.

Usually, the perfect spot is your room in Ramshackle dorm. It's quiet and empty, save for the pesky ghosts that interrupt the two of you sometimes. It makes for the perfect hiding place when Ruggie is bothering him with some stupid papers he needs to solve for potionology, too.

All in all, worth the walk to the dorm. Especially since he gets to see you and feel your warmth without fail.

You were already waiting for him on your bed, busying yourself with scrolling through your Magicam feed. Usually, you keep a few textbooks for studying with you, but exams have mostly concluded for now. You know once Leona attaches onto you, you're not going to be able to leave for atleast 2 hours, so it's always great to prepare in advance.

Sure enough, you heard familiar footsteps getting closer and the door opened to reveal your sleepy lover. His tail swished when he caught sight of you. What a lovely sight, indeed.

"Hey Leona, had a good day?" you ask casually and he sighs in response, mumbling something about being tired. Well, that's just the usual, isn't it?

He climbs up on the bed and you smile at his sleepy expression. He's so cute when he's sleepy, but you probably shouldn't tell him that unless you want to get glared at.

Instead of crashing on top of you like you're used to, though, he places his hands on your belly, still sitting at your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't even meet your eyes.

Suddenly, his hands start moving in a kneading motion. A surprise massage? Not that you mind it, but that's highly unusual coming from Leona of all people. If anything, it should be the other way around.

"Leona..?" you question, trying to get a good look at his face. You can't really see it well because of the hair that fell to the side of his face. But from what little you can see, he seems to be in sort of a trance right now. His eyes are barely opened and he's wearing a little satisfied smile on his face. He doesn't respond to you at all.

"Leona?" you try again, a little firmer this time. He suddenly stops, probably finally coming back to his senses. You can see the way his eyes widen for a moment before he falls down on top of you without a word, wrapping his arms around you. Now you can't see his face at all, unable to read his expression.

"Leona, what was that?" you hugged him back, still a bit dumbfounded. You weren't going to lie though, that felt really nice.

"Don't ever bring this up again." Leona did not seem in the mood to discuss what just happened any further. He could have sworn he left that behaviour behind as a toddler. How embarrasing.

He's kind of worried now. That's how much you affect him.

"Oh... uh, okay." you pet the back of his head lovingly. Hmmm... now that you think of it, Grim does the same thing sometimes. The common denominator with Grim and Leona is that they're both cats, atleast somewhat.

If you apply this knowledge to what you know about cats in general... Oh, Leona, that silly goose. Seems he's a bit embarrased about kneading on you. You wonder if it was pure instinct.

yep, turns out the big kitties knead too, ain't that just a testament to the tried and true saying "cat is cat"

[7ndipity]

Leaving For The Military

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would be with their crush or S/o before enlisting and how they keep in touch.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anons who requested this! I debated on whether or not I would post something about this, but since several of you asked, I decided I would. I did decid to make this more fluffy/crackish tho, cause I don’t want y’all getting too sad.(also, I struggled with this one a bit, so I’m sorry if it’s shit)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

I think back a lot on how he said before that he’s allergic to seriousness, so other than when he first tells you about going, I think he tries to keep things really light and upbeat.

Probably spends the whole week before leaving asking you to shave his head. “I’m not doing that!” “Why not? It’ll be a bonding experience!”

Leaves several little notes/letters for you(similar to his messages for Army) saying how much he loves and can’t wait to see you again. Plus, you’ve seen how frequently he posts on weverse, so you know he’s texting/calling you all the time.

Yoongi:

Since he’s in public service and getting to stay close to home(I think?), he really tries to avoid making a big deal out of it. Like, it’s obviously still a major shift in his life, but being able to still see/talk to you regularly would make it a lot easier.

If you live abroad tho, he would take it a bit more seriously, making sure the two of you talk as regularly as possible.(since they’re not allowed to travel abroad during service)

Literally keeps a list of things he wants to tell you/talk about whenever y’all call/video chat so he won’t forget anything.

Hobi:

He makes a point to spend as much time with you as possible before he leaves, making little bucket lists of things for the two of you to do together before and after enlistment.

Lowkey keeps flexing in his uniform(you’ve seen his insta, you know it’s true) “I look kinda good tho, right Babe? Babe?” *😑agrees but won’t admit it*

He misses you so much, and he calls/checks in with you every chance he gets(honestly, y’all talk more than me and my besties, lol)

Namjoon:

He’s rather solemn and serious about the whole thing, though he tries not to talk about it too much, trying to focus more on enjoying your time together rather than dwelling on what’s to come.

Y’all probably spent the whole night before he left awake and talking about anything and everything, not wanting to lose any time together on sleep.

Tries to call/message you as often as possible, getting over-excited to catch up on what’s going on in your life and share what he’s doing.

Jimin:

He spends the last couple days before leaving practically fused to your side, trying to soak up as much time with you as possible. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s anxious abt all of it.

Another that would probably leave you one, or more likely multiple notes/letters for after he leaves for you to read whenever you’re feeling down(totally didn’t read them all in the first week, wym?).

He messages/calls you every chance he gets(probs featuring an appearance from Jk, if it’s true abt them getting to stick together)

Taehyung:

He takes a semi-unserious approach to the whole thing. Like, he’s very sincere and open when you have the initial discussion about him leaving, but after that he’s just making little cracks about it here and there.

“You know, it’s kinda like the plot of a drama.” “It’s really not.”

He’s so dramatic abt missing you, calling you constantly. Another who would likely leave you little notes for when you’re feeling low, though his include random suggestions like eating at certain restaurants y’all like or watching your fav movies/shows.

Jungkook:

As we’ve seen with his posts from the past couple weeks, I think he would be somewhat somber when he first talks to you about everything and maybe again right before he leaves, but the rest of the time he’d try to keep things light and unserious.

(you know he’s constantly trying to get you to rub his head after he gets it shaved🙄)

Obviously, he misses you like crazy, but he tries not to let on too much at first when y’all talk, but it starts to show when he admits you’re always the first person he calls or texts.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[magics-neptunes-things]

Use me as a cushion

Hello!

I received some requests for fictions with other people than Ona, so here I am trying with Alexia!

It's fluff, literally pure fluff.

I hope you will like it! As always, the reviews are much appreciated :)

_____________________________________________________________

The situation of the Spanish women’s football team was no longer to be explained. After the forced departures of Vilda and the president of the Federation, the fight was far from over. While you naively thought you were going to have a break, you were all summoned to the national team despite the various statements you made.

Like all the others players of the team, you were forced to show up, participate in a few mediation sessions while following the usual training. You were exausted, all of you.

But you know that your girlfriend is even more than you are.

Alexia, as captain of the team, participated in many more discussions than all of you put together. In addition to everything else, she's the team’s anchor for everyone. The one you can rely on, the one you can count on. And it was true, she takes that role to perfection. Like everything she does, in your opinion (not quite impartial tho).

But over the days, you saw her fatigue increase and her condition deteriorate a little more. You told Ona about it, knowing that your girlfriend trusted her completely and that she wasn’t the type to talk further. You were scared for her, scared that she hurt herself on training because of the level of her tiredness.

Ona advised you to continue doing what you knew how to do best with Alexia, to be there for her and take care of her. Even if you don’t feel like it’s a big deal, you naturally planned a small schedule for Alexia tonight.

So here you are, waiting for you girlfriend to come back from an other discussion with some thinking heads of the Federation. You hate them, all of them.

Your game against Switzerland is in two days and you already are in Sevilla. Even if you're together since like a year, you weren't always set up in the same room. Luckily, Alexia found herself alone in her room, allowing you to join her there without disturbing anyone.

Even if it means you two end up in a single bed. You don't mind tho, having a good reason to sleep on the top of your girlfriend all night long.

Lying on Alexia’s bed, you look again at the time on the screen of your phone while continuing to play the mobile game you downloaded. Sighing, you roll sideways, allowing yourself to smell Alexia’s shampoo on her pillow. It's almost 23:00 and still not any sign fo Alexia. Chewing your lips, you hesitate to send her a message but then you heard the door open quietly.

You sit up immediatly, startled Alexia.

"Madre mia" she huffs with her hand on her heart. "What are you doing here? You should be sleeping"

She frowns while gently scolding you, but you make your way to her to hug her. You smile while she melt in your arms, caressing her back tenderly with your fingertips. Alexia is strong, everybody can see that. Everybody know that. But knowing that she trusts you enough to let it go with you is in your eyes the greatest proof of love she can give you.

"I can't sleep without my goodnight kiss" you point.

She smiles and kiss you softly, but you don't leave anyway. Like you said, you have plans for her.

"Did you eat?" you ask her as she takes off her shoes, dropping them to the ground with a thud.

"Not really" she sights "but it's to late anyway"

You roll your eyes before turning on the table behind you. You ordered a meal an hour ago and asked them to find you something to keep it warm. You were pretty sure that she will come back to late to ask the kitchen to make her something.

"What is it?" she asks, approaching the table with curiosity.

Her face lit up when she lifts the lid and you can’t help but smile back. You promised yourself, if Alexia is everyone’s crutch, you’ll be hers.

"Tortilla de patatas" she smiles.

"Con tomato, as you like. Not sure if it will be as good as your Mama's tho"

You shrugs but Alexia made her way towards you to take you in her arms. The hug was longer than before and you play with her hair for a while.

"Thank you" she whispers in your neck before moving back a few centimeters. "But you really should have sleeping"

You roll your eyes once again, before you made her a little smirk.

"If you insist I can go back sleeping with Claudia"

You were teasing, Alexia knew it. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with her.

"Not funny" she pouts anyway.

You smile again and point to the plate that has still not been touched.

"Why don't you eat while I run you a bath?"

Alexia seems to think a few moments, hesitating between going to eat or spending some time with you. It’s hard to have moments just for you these last few days.

"With bubbles?"

"With bubbles" you answer, laughing at her baby voice.

Letting her eat, you went to the bathroom and do what you said. Waiting for the tub to be full, you get lost in your thoughts for longs minutes, contemplating the foam mix with the hot water. You were pretty tired yourself, but Alexia goes first. You need to take care of her.

You don’t hear her coming into the room though, making you jump slightly when she passes her arms around your waist. You let her lean into your neck, shivering when you feel her smell you.

"How can I thank you enought Amor?"

You turn around in her arms and put your hands around your neck.

"Your love is more than I can wish for"

The kiss she gives you this time is breathtaking. It's like you can feel the love and the recognition she feels for your actions. When the kiss ends, both of you looking for air, she strokes your nose with hers.

"Come with me?"

"Nah, tonight it's all about you"

She pouts again and you bite your lips. She knows that you can't resist her when she does this. And you know that she knows. And she knows that you know that she knows.

"Come on! If it's for me you can be my personnal cushion?"

You laugh at her antics and just give up. Who could deny this to the love of his life?

"Ok, but only because you will use me as a cushion."

[marlenesluv]

i was wondering if you could do an america's sweetheart victorias secret angel reader whos 19 x charles. in this universe victoria secret still has their show and it's like peak vs again. its very miss americana and the heartbreak prince. and there's some light cheating because shes still with her boyfriend Arber Xhekaj (if you don't know gf omg hes so fine and his fights are amazing) and she meets Charles at the after party of the show. and like erin heatherton fc plz from like the 2010s

Angel. (CL)

tbh, i love watching the old vs shows, ugh. i rly love this idea. erin heatherton is stunninggggg. i hope you enjoy!!

pairing: charles leclerc x vs model reader

fc: erin heatherton

warnings: light cheating, cussing, fans slut shame (for the plot, also don’t do this or i’ll throw chicken legs at you)

note: cheating is not slay, don’t do it. (i’ll only condone tho if you cheat to be with an f1 driver, jk jk) also, the first post is the night after the after party. but it twists so stick with me.

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

twitter:

Gossip Column @gossipoftoday • 4hr

Big news for our Formula 1 watchers and Victoria Secret enjoyers! Y/N Y/L/N, 19, has been a model for Victoria’s Secret for two years, one of our favorite Angels. She has been dating Arber Xhekaj, Canadian Hockey Player, these past eight months.

The couple has been fairly public, but these past few weeks, we have noticed a decrease in posts by the couple. This might have something to do with last nights show.

Last night, Y/N opened for the show, looking absolutely stunning on the runway. The after party is what we want to discuss though…

Charles Leclerc was seen at the show and the after party. Heavy, and we mean heavy, dancing was shared between Charles and Y/N. Rumors have it, Arber might be interested in another girl, but the party hasn’t broke off their relationship. So imagine our shock when we find this out!

Now, Charles and Y/N would make a hot couple, but are we behind cheating? I’m not too sure about this.

↳ Bellaaa @charfanpage33 • 4hr

Y/N is actually stunning, but I hope her and Arber broke it off because cheating is not hot.

↳ Jacobs Cavern @formula1overu • 3hr

Y/N is definitely hot, but is she gonna cheat on Charles too?? Like, come on. Once a cheater, always a cheater

_______________________________________________

liked by: charles_leclerc, victoriassecret, and 983,025 others

y/n.user: such an amazing show last night, i hope you enjoyed, loves!!

view comments…

vsmodelpicsss: you were stunning, per usual👏👏

user9: i need the water she’s drinking

f1wags: hmmmmm

↳ charfp: HM?????

ferraribabyyy229: is that charles….?? he liked too..soooo

↳ smoothoperatorpageeee: i’m questioning it

y/n.fp: abt to make a thread cuz WTF IS GOING ONN

xanderfppp: she’s literally hoeing around?

↳ y/n.editzz: nah babe. we don’t even know the full story, or if it’s charles🖕

papayafans: y/n would be an amazing wag. i need her in the paddock

yourbsf: YOU LOOKED SO FUCKING AMAZING💓💥🥵

↳ y/n.user: i’m soooo glad you could make it! TY ILY💓

user8: it looks like char’s hair…..

_______________________________________________

liked by: lanacondor and 82,024 others

arberxhekaj_: 🔛🔝

view comments…

user02: nah cuz why wasn’t he at the last vs show..

↳ user3: maybe they broke up?

↳ nhlfan8: just bc he didn’t go to show, doesn’t mean they broke up-

lanacondor: ✨✨

↳ user4: girl. now what is THIS?!?!

y/n.fp: does he have another gf?? did i miss a BOOK??

f1user: all of us are equally confused rt? they unfollowed each other too…

↳ arberxy/n: WHAT

user0: oh hunny….this is so confusing. are y’all pranking us?

f1editpage: y/n is not the cheating type imo. maybe arber cheated….

↳ user5: or they both did

arberfanpage: maybe they’re still together and we’re all wrong?

↳ y/nsfan11: nah, i don’t think so

_______________________________________________

twitter:

Jaime💋 @y/nswifeasf • 3hr

Thread on why I think Y/N Y/L/N and Arber Xhekaj have broken up:

↳ Jaime 💋 @y/nswifeasf • 3hr

Reason #1) Y/N and Arber haven’t posted each other in literally two months. Maybe they want privacy, sure. But I think we can all agree that that is not the reason.

↳ Jaime 💋 @y/nswifeasf • 3hr

Arber hasn’t been attending the Victoria’s Secret shows for the past month-ish. Same with Y/N not attending Arber’s hockey games/practices.

↳ Jaime 💋 @y/nswifeasf • 3hr

They have also both unfollowed each other on all social platforms: Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok. Since then, Arber has followed Lana Condor, and Y/N has followed Charles Leclerc, along with many other Formula 1 drivers, all of them follow her back.

↳ Jaime 💋 @y/nswifeasf • 3hr

I want to end this thread with my personal thoughts on this couple. Personally, I love Y/N, and I don’t believe she would cheat. Arber, I’m not so sure either… I think we should all just wait till they release something about the matter.

*comments have been disabled on this tweet*

_______________________________________________

liked by: charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,231,035 others

y/n.user: this is definitely not how arber and i wanted to do this, but i think it’s what has to be done. yes, arber and i have decided to end things. arber can tell his side, i wont speak for him. but let’s just say that i found myself in a hard spot. charles and i are dating, we have been for the past four weeks. arber and i broke up two months ago, so i did not cheat. as for lana and arber, once again, not my story to tell. please respect mine, charles, and arbers privacy. i’m sorry you had a shit explanation. i appreciate you all for being supportive. ily.

view comments…

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️

*liked by creator*

papayafanpage: as long as she and charles are happy, i’m happy. fr

user3: you don’t need to apologize! your private life is more important than social media. your guys’ privacy comes first

francisca.cgomes: i love and miss you🩷pierre and i would love to get dinner with you two!

↳ y/n.user: i love and miss you too🩷and yeah, we would love that too! i’ll text you

↳ francisca.cgomes: okay🩷

f1wags: y/n and kika🥲🥹

↳ y/neditsss: the wags have to stick together fr

arberoveru: as long as arber and y/n ended things well, who tf cares abt who they date? i j want them happy

lailahasanovic: i’m sorry you had to post like this :( let’s get together soon, pretty girl!

↳ y/n.user: ty laila<3 and yes i’ll text you!

_______________________________________________

twitter:

Arber Xhekaj @arberxhekaj_ • 2hr

I don’t have much to add to what Y/N posted earlier today. We did break up two months ago, she didn’t cheat. I did, though. Details are not needed, I prefer to keep it at that. She didn’t deserve it, and I regret it deeply. I will always love her as a friend, and it makes me happy that her and Charles are so happy. Please don’t let my drunken mistake alter your feelings on her. I’m so sorry.

*comments have been disabled on this tweet*

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 1,023,783 others

charles_leclerc: how did i get so lucky?❤️

view comments…

user4: god. they make me feel so lonely and they j started dating 🥲

y/n.user: char🥹

↳ charles_leclerc: chérie?

↳ lestappenfanpage3: IM SOBBING 😭 SO CUTE

danielricciardo: someone needs to post me like this😪

↳ maxverstappen1: posting you rn

↳ danielricciardo: thanks max😁🫶

user7: K. IM NOT LONELY AT ALL. K.😫

yourbsf: WOOOO MY PARENTS POSTEDDDD👏

↳ y/n.user: OMFG💀

↳ yourbsf: you’d be a hot mom

↳ y/n.user: thx🤭 you’d be a hot aunt

↳ yourbsf: i knowwww🥶

f1fp: y/n’s bsf def knew from the start

↳ leclercbrosfp: arthur prolly did too LMAO

↳ f1fp: TRUE

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[charliecharlston]

i wanna speak to the void abt gwens universe's colour symbolism and how it links to trans identity so here it is, feel free to read

the colours used in gwens universe - primarily in interactions with her dad are pinkish and bluish tones. the animators used pink as a way to show honesty, candidness and openness expressed, whilst the blue served to show isolation and dishonesty. ill discuss why i think so below

in the scene where gwen returns home after quitting the band, gwen is coloured in blue tones.

shes hiding her identity as spiderwoman from her dad and isolating herself in her room.

her dad tries to open up and talk to her about the case, hence the warm/orangey tones. but gwen remains blue, shutting him out. but when they hug, gwen is more purplish, showing a hint of her opening up.

the other scene i think is especially significant with her colour symbolism is the confrontation after the guggenheim sequence.

when gwen comes out as spiderwoman, the colours start to shift.

gwen is now candid, shes come out to her dad and is trying to make him listen and understand her. but just like gwens blues became pinks, george's pinks shift to blue.

the last image in this set is actually so chilling, the fear in his eyes hurt me deeply 💀 anyway

george hides behind his cop persona, avoiding and isolating from gwens confession to him, which is supported by the colour used to portray him.

all of this builds to what i think theyre trying to say about gwen being transgender. the typical gender to colour association is pink girl and blue boy. the choice of colour is deliberate here as much as it usually is with the spiderverse team. why use these two colours in this specific way? a lot of people who dont think gwen is a trans girl will say "well those two colours dont have to represent trans identity" they dont, but the details say that the spiderverse team (once again) is intentionally using them to talk about trans identity and coming out.

i think that by putting the "protect trans kids" poster in gwens room, and the trans flag patch on officer stacy's jacket show that theyre not just randomly picking the colours, but that they made the conscious choice for the boy associated colour - blue - to show hiding and isolation. whilst pink is about honesty and openness whilst being the girl associated colour. i think that the use of these colours in this way is saying that gwen is a trans woman.

and if ur still not convinced well

i havent even talked about the DIALOGUE in this movie and how trans it is. her arc (and miles' arc) across the two movies is such a queer coded story. "can i tell my dad, will he approve of me? will he still love me the same?" like it couldnt be more obvious. someone also mentioned somewhere that the side shave is also significant? like when she has the long hair facing toward the viewers its the same as the pink being used to show honesty and linked to femininity, and the short side almost like a masc haircut and being of the opposite meaning when its facing the audience. idk abt that one but its an interesting thought! that as well as her like having the same shoe size as hobie even tho that man is so fucking tall - yk this cuz her chucks are stated to be his.

anyways if u got that far, thanks???

and if u still deny that gwen is trans then idk what to say, u prob hate trans ppl

gwen is trans, they dont need to explicitly say it inorder for it to be true, just bc they didnt say gwen is trans, or miles is somehow queer, or hobie is gender non conformist, doesnt mean theyre cishet.

[merchelsea]

private support- george russell

pairing: george russell x fem! model! reader

summary: you are constantly fighting george’s haters on interviews and socials, but when you need him to do the same, he doesn’t.

author’s note: my first time writing angst, please give me some tips to improve!! and i’m actually taking requests now, so if you have any, let me know!

word count: 2k+ (not counted properly)

warnings: angst, fighting, miscommunication, racism accusations, silence treatment, confused reader.

your mind snapped back to reality as your hairstylist, who also happened to be your best friend, playfully snapped her fingers in front of your face.

"what are you thinking about?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity and concern as she stood before you, demanding an answer.

"nothing," you quickly shot back, though the truth was quite the opposite. you had been mulling over everything that had transpired in the past week.

a false accusation of racism had been circulating on the internet, and it had been so well-constructed that people started believing you were capable of such a thing.

it was frustrating that almost no one believed you, but it was even more frustrating that you couldn't deny it. this whole scandal had brought up an unwanted spotlight, and you were obligated to follow a contract, which meant that, if they were to push you under the bus because they'd benefit from it, they could. and that is exactly what they did.

you felt anger and disappointment toward those you worked with daily, as you never thought they would betray you in such a way. in response, you had pulled all available strings and taken legal action to clear your name. while you had managed to set the record straight publicly through the legal process, it did little to ease the weight on your mind.

"that’s bullshit, you have been watching that tiktok for 15 minutes." your friend quipped, redirecting your attention to your phone, which had been playing the same vogue advertisement repeatedly. "so, what's on your mind?"

you sighed, contemplating the flood of thoughts but reluctant to discuss them. "a lot of stuff, but I really don't want to talk about it." your friend took a deep breath and reluctantly accepted your reluctance. "fine," she conceded. as much as she could try to hide it, you knew her, and realized she wasn't happy about it. "don't get mad."

"I’m not mad. I just don’t understand why you never talk with me about this stuff." you furrowed your brows as she moved to hold your hair from behind, starting to curl it again. "I mean, I’m supposed to be your best friend, you should be able to talk with me."

"it's about george," you exhaled as she began working on your hair, curling it once more. "what did he do?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "you guys never fight."

"he didn’t do anything, that’s the problem." you explained, feeling the heat of anger dissipate. the woman behind you turned your chair to face her, and you knew it was time to open up about it.

"what happened, babe?" she asked, pulling over a bench and sitting down. it was clear that she recognized the importance of the conversation.

you silently wondered about what to say for minutes, because even tho it was something really clear in your mind, you had no idea of how to put it into words.

she grew impatient in front of you, drumming her fingers in the bench she was sat in, waiting for you to break.

"he still hasn't said anything about this. he talked to me, told me he knew I could never do such a thing," you began, picking up a makeup pencil to occupy your hands. "but people asked him in interviews, and he didn't even deny it. he would just say hat he wouldn't comment on it."

You felt a mix of emotions, ranging from sadness to disappointment. You had always defended George in similar situations, in interviews, instagram stories, fighting people on twitter. in every way you could.

unintentionally, you expected him to do the same for you when the time came. but it came and he didn't. you couldn't really blame him because you never even talked to him about it, he had no way of knowing, but you did, you blamed him.

you blamed him and you felt awful for that. it was all an endless circle of guilt and shame that you were trying to run of. confused, stressed, attacked. how could someone be fine while feeling all of that?

questions lingered in your brain as your best friend talked to you, trying to help you in the better way she could. besides all of the mess, she was the one thing you were sure off, she was your rock, stabling you through the storm.

posting that video and coming clean about the situation had been a good step, but it hadn't eased the stabbing pain in your chest.

coming home to him was harder than ever. you had ignored his calls and every single one of his attempts to contact you. it was childish of you, and you were aware, but you just couldn't help it.

anyways, things had to be said.

as you entered the room, you found george lying on the couch in his mercedes shirt. he smiled when he saw you, relieved that you had come. he thought you wouldn't come, that caused by the three days left on read and the 14 missed calls.

seeing you was a relief for him. he immediately got up and walked to you, but you denied his attempt to touch your face. the smile on his face disappeared as fast as it came on.

"hey, what happened?" he attempted to caress your cheek, but you pulled away his arm. "what did I do?" his confused and saddened gaze filled you with regret and you realized what you were doing.

you weren't being fair.

"I'm sorry. I just—" you began, stepping back. his reaction made you realize that you needed to communicate openly. "I need to talk to you," you said, and george nodded, ready to listen. he looked genuinely terrified as you refused his touch, not understanding what he had done wrong.

"okay... hm. lets sit down." he suggested, trying to make it as comfortable as he could for you.

you both moved to the couch, sitting on opposite ends. george looked you in the eye, waiting for you to speak.

"so, you know about that racism accusation, right?"george nodded, not daring to speak. "I'm kind of upset about it."

"well that's understandable, yo-"

"george," you interrupted, wanting to clarify your point. "I'm not really worried about the accusation itself right now. you haven't said anything about it yet." the brit furrowed his brows.

"what? I told you exactly what I thought that same night. you could never do such thing and I know that very well." you sighed, annoyed again. it was difficult to try and see things from his perspective, but the truth is that you weren't explaining him things clearly.

"that's not what I mean. you've talked about it with me, but you never did on public. you never said that 'i could never do such thing' to anyone else." his eyes fall on you again, softened this time.

"oh." it lingers in the air for quite some time as he gets ahold of his thoughts and you grow inpatient. "I'm sorry about that. I never thought you wanted to." some other words danced on the tip of his tongue. he contained himself, but he could've easily ended this argument.

"you never thought? how's that?" you offendedly ask. how could you not want your boyfriend to have your back?

"well, once you told me you didn't like the thought of being seen as dependent of me. that you wanted to be seen as an independent and strong woman. I respected, and still respect that." you recalled saying this after a long night in monaco. deep conversations had become a regular occurrence between you two after his race weekends.

"it's not about depending on you; it's about you supporting me," you raised your voice, making it clear how upset you were. "I always do that for you, and it doesn't mean anything."

"yeah, because the media and society are twisted as fuck, and we both know that," george said, turning his body towards you, now more open to discussing the issue. "tell me that if it were me in your position, you wouldn't be labeled as a woman who needs her boyfriend to protect her. do you have any idea of how you would be talked about?"

you hated it when he was right, but he was right now. however, he seemed to miss your perspective on all of this.

"I wouldn't care. I would know you were by my side and I wouldn't care."

"your such a bad liar. you would care. you would and you will because I gave an interview like two days ago, talking about it." he sighs. "because even though I knew it wasn't what you would've wanted, I could not keep quite while you were going through all of that."

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other. how could have you missed this? okay, you had been avoiding anything george related for the past days, but you would know. wouldn't you?

"of course that, I could've told you if you just picked up your damn phone." george got up and left for your bedroom before you had a chance to react. but he did exactly what you needed—he gave you some time to think, to process, and to feel guilty for treating him poorly when all he had done was thinking of you.

you took out your phone and searched his name on twitter. the first thing coming up being exactly what you were looking for.

"it's unacceptable. it's actually unacceptable that someone can do this and live their life in peace. that person screwed her over — her name, her work, everything she represents. yeah, no, I can not deal with this shit. I mean, she is the most admirable person in this earth and people who can't deal with other's happiness just keep trying to mess that up. they wont succeed, though. she is incredible enough to not let that happen." "george, does it bother you that it was a fan of yours who came up with this?" "fan? sorry but that can't be called a fan. that is just a jerk who tried to ruin someone's life. does it bother me that is the love of my life being attacked? a lot. it drives me crazy. as I said before, I can't deal with this. I honestly think it would be easier if I was the one being attacked. I just can't understand why someone would do this to her. she always does what's best for others, she supports everyone, is always out there in the world fighting other's fights and this is how she is payed? it's not fair, it's just not fair." "i have only one more question for you. why did it take you so long to speak about this? even your teammate, lewis hamilton, talked about this the day it came out, and you're only just now coming clean." "well obviously I wanted to talk about this from the moment I saw it. it took a lot of me to not start a war right there. but we all know how fucked up the world is and how she would've been talked about if I came straight to interviews. she probably will even get a few comments about me but I couldn't keep it in. if she is not allowed to speak, I'll speak for her. that's how we work. we love each other and we support each other." "uh, i'm sorry george. not allowed?" "thank you for having me."

his face displayed anger, and he seemed more than ready to start a war. you couldn't help but smile throughout the whole video, feeling grateful for the man you had by your side.

and then it hit you—you had been treating him horribly when he didn't deserve it. in fact, he deserved the opposite. so, you got up and went to apologize.

opening the bedroom door, you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door. he had been waiting for you.

"I'm sorry," you said as you moved closer. he pulled you close by the waist, hugging your body, and you caressed his hair.

" you need to talk to me," he murmured against your belly.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry," you said, taking his head in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. "I promise you that from now on, we'll discuss everything. I love you so much."

"I love you too. you know that, right?" you nodded your head with a big smile. if this had shown you something, was that he loved you.

"I know, and I'm sorry for cutting you off when things went bad. that was really shitty of me." you looked up, admitting your mistakes.

"never do that again, I got so afraid. I thought I had lost you."

"I'll never do it again. I promise." you stuck out your pinky and he took it. sealing the promise with a kiss on your enlaced fingers.

[idksmtms]

Silence - Emmett (AQPII) x Younger!reader

Summary: You had seen Emmett before everything went to hell, but you didn't actually know him. Now though? Now he was all you had. He was everything. 

Word count: 3.9k 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (both characters are still 18+), p in v s*x, fingering, daddy kink, discussions of death, discussions of trauma, attempting to exchange sex for services (doesn’t actually happen tho), mental health struggles, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Quiet Place or A Quiet Place Part 2 characters. I do not claim to own any of these characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You hadn’t known it was him when you had followed the man in the abandoned factory down the chute. You hadn’t known it was him when you had landed with a thud right behind him and he had whirled on you as the screeches from the monster above echoed metallically over you. You still hadn’t known it was him when he had pulled you away from the entrance and into the old pipe and shut the door behind you and sat just in front, heaving and staring out of the little window inlaid in the door. But then, with shaking hands he had pulled down the scarf over his face and stared at you like you were somehow the craziest part of this new world, and simply uttered the words “what the fuck.” You had jumped forward then, slamming your palms to his mouth and widening your eyes to try and communicate how stupid he was being, but he just shoved you off and waited until you had sorted yourself into a seated position once more to speak. “They can’t hear us down here, especially if you whisper.” You stared at him, listened to the rough gravel of his voice, and it finally clicked in your mind who this was. 

You remembered Emmett from before. He had run the garage in your town and your dad always took your car there to get it fixed. You had never talked to him much, just a hi or hello there if you went to the garage with your dad or if you bumped into him somewhere in town, and it was alright considering you had just graduated high school when the creatures landed. Sure, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but it’s not like you thought about that much (you used to think about it all the time). You guys didn’t have much business with each other, he was a married man, so what did it matter? He had been your favourite naive high school crush. But that’s all it was. Then the creatures landed and any feeling other than survive, survive, survive, hadn’t entered your head since. 

“Mr. Emmett?” You finally whispered, hands pressed close to your mouth out of fear. You didn’t remember the last time you had spoken. What had been the last thing you said?

 He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, clasping your hands together and rocking back and forth slightly. The air was getting stuffier and you could feel your lungs getting tighter. Then something started beeping and he reached over and opened the door. He jumped out and began pacing as you clambered out of the pipe like a human spider. 

You finally got a chance to look around the space you had fallen into, and it was… quaint. There was no better word really, because it wasn’t nice but it was much better than some places you had been. A pile of cushions and sheets and maybe a duvet (you couldn’t tell) made up a sleeping area in the corner. There were a pair of folding chairs across a makeshift coffee table with an oil lamp on it on the other side of the space and pieces of paper were tacked up on the wall above them. They were drawings, you quickly realised, of three different people over and over again. Was it his wife and kids? You could recognise Nora, but you had never paid particular attention to his kids, so is that what they looked like? 

You turned to Emmett and it seemed he had come to a decision. He began shaking his head and you knew exactly what he was going to say. Dread filled your stomach, filled every bone and every skin cell. You had barely survived on your own on the journey to finding this place. The group you had been with before… they were either picked away or went crazy but they had also been the reason you survived this long. You were, for lack of a better term, useless at survival. Other people had hunted for you, other people had killed for you, all you could do was watch over things, and run. 

“Please,” you began to whisper in a hurry, “please don’t make me go. Please, Mr. Emmett,” you rushed over to him, clasping his forearms and forcing him to look at you. His eyes were haunted, and you were sure he had seen terrible things, things that would stay with him till he eventually succumbed to whatever death awaited him in this new wasteland, but so had you. “Mr. Emmett, I can’t survive out there on my own,” your voice was clogged with tears now, your eyes shiny and dripping onto your cheeks, “if I don’t die as soon as I step out of here, then it’ll be within a few days, at most a week. I can’t do anything on my own Mr. Emmett, I’m fucking useless!” You sobbed, a sound so loud he slapped a hand over your mouth and hushed you aggressively, but you continued crying, leaning into his hand as you blubbered. 

This was the first time you had cried since that first day. There had been no time to cry later, always on the run, always worrying about something, and now it was finally hitting you. Your world was truly ending, and these last-minute grabs to try and save it weren’t going to work. 

“Sh, sh, alright,” he whispered, “alright, just calm down, just calm down and be quiet.” 

You pressed your lips together and pulled away, wiping at your eyes and trying to quell the need to hiccup out more sobs. Emmett sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead, eyes closed as he shook his head and muttered to himself. 

“Please, Mr. Emmett,” you whispered again, looking up at him with those big eyes of yours that made his resolve melt. “I’ll do anything for you, anything,” you dropped your backpack to the floor and began pulling up the hem of your tank top. You had never had the luxury of a jacket, and there were many cold nights barely survived in this tank top, but after a while you had learnt to be thankful for every little thing you had. 

You looked him in the eyes as your shirt began to rise, no shame, just desperation. Just as the hem reached the undersides of your breasts, he reached out and grabbed your hand so tight your knuckles began to hurt. 

“Stop,” he bit out, staring at the floor as he forced your hand back down your stomach. Once he was sure you were covered up again, he looked at you again and sighed like the weight of the world had come crashing back down on his shoulders all over again. “You can stay, but you at least have to learn how to use a gun, in case I’m not here.” 

“Yes, yes anything,” you breathed out, and launched yourself onto him, hugging him around the neck and pressing your cheeks together. Oh how long it had been since you had hugged someone. He was so warm and you could feel his firm frame under his clothes. Clearly it had been just as long for him since he hadn’t even bothered to reciprocate, hands hanging at his sides and body frozen. Slowly you released him, stepping back and staring at the ground as he cleared his throat and turned away to do… something. Whatever a person needs to do nowadays. 

He had sacrificed some of his sheets and pillows for you to make your bed, but you didn’t stray too far from his own setup, wanting to know that there was someone with you when you were going to sleep. You had quickly fallen into a routine within the next few days of living together. You would wake up when you heard the rustling of his sheets, spending some time washing up and nibbling on just enough food to quiet the growls in your stomachs. Then he would sit in one of the folding chairs and draw, the soft scratching of his pencil against paper filling the space. You occupied the other chair and began to work your way through the small pile of books he had. Sometimes both of you would look up simultaneously if you heard a click or a creak echo down the chute, but when it was silent once again you would return to your own activities without saying a word. 

On the third day, he decided to venture out to gather more food and water. You had watched him ready himself for the trip, wrapping the scarf around his face, gathering up his shotgun, then climbing the ladder without a look back. You had tried to read while he was away, but your mind couldn’t focus. At every sound, or even the illusion of sound, your head snapped to the chute to see if he was back. Eventually you abandoned your seat and began to pace, staring at his drawings and sifting through the pages of his journal. There were a lot more drawings in there, and you wondered how he had chosen the ones to put up. Even the half-finished ones were beautiful, and you felt a sudden onset of tears as you turned page after page of their faces. You were careful not to let a tear fall on any of the papers, and gently set it back down, caressing the leather cover for a moment before going to his pile of sheets and settling down for a nap on top of them. 

You woke up when he returned. You hadn’t realised how much noise actually happened just by two people existing, but the sound of his feet on the ladder rungs, his panting breaths, even the rustle of his clothes suddenly seemed so loud after the hours of quiet solitude. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, watching as he set out the supplies before walking over to you and handing you something. He didn’t comment that you were on his bed, and you didn’t make any move to get up, and he just went back to his chair journal. You stared at the pile in your hands, five new books in various states of decay, but all readable. They must have been a completely unnecessary weight for him, only a hindrance and a danger, but he had brought them. For you. You stared at the pile in your hands, a collection of paperbacks you had never heard of, and then you looked at him. He was busy with the journal, head bent low over the paper, and something bloomed in your chest, filling you up with all this… happiness? Joy? Love? You weren’t sure what those felt like anymore but it must be close. 

Two weeks after you had arrived in his little sanctuary, winter truly began to set in. It had started to become colder at night, and you were lucky enough to be sheltered away from any winds, but the chill that settled in the air at night seeped into your bones. For the first week you could survive by bundling up as tight as possible in all your blankets and a jacket that Emmett had scavenged for you. But with every night that passed, even that wasn’t enough to keep the cold out, and most of your nights were spent awake and shivering, hoping you wouldn’t die of hypothermia. 

At last, on one particular night, you truly couldn’t handle the cold anymore, and you decided enough was enough. Heaters didn’t exist anymore, but body warmth was a natural heater, and you had a perfectly good body nearby. You turned over under your blankets and slowly began shifting your way over to his pile. You could see his body moving under his blankets with every breath, and you were sure he was still awake, because why wouldn’t he be? Who could sleep in this cold, even Emmett? You managed to make your way to his bedding and slipped under his blankets. Emmett turned over, staring at you in the dark, but you just continued burrowing yourself closer to him until your head was pressed under his chin and your arms and legs were wrapped around him. Once you had felt the warmth emanating from him, there was no turning back. He only had on a t-shirt under the blankets and he shivered whenever your skin made contact with his. You were freezing cold yet he was hotter than the sun. The skin on his arms was soft, and you lightly ran your hands up and down it before wrapping him up in your arms once more. 

At first, Emmett didn’t move. Again, he was frozen, just like when you had hugged him. But slowly, as the quiet settled in again and both of your breaths evened out once more, he moved his arms to wrap around you in return, pressing you close to his chest and splaying his hands over your back. Every breath he took ruffled your hair and your every breath fanned his neck. Both of you were quiet, soaking in each other’s touch. It had been aeons since either of you had felt the sustained touch of another person, had just been held by another person. It was an indescribable comfort that you now deemed essential to your survival. 

From then on, every night passed in this fashion. You would wriggle your way into his cocoon of blankets and he would wrap you up tight in his arms, pressing his lips to the top of your head without a thought. It made life seem better somehow. Waking up every morning in his arms, knowing that that’s how the day was going to end made everything more… bearable. 

Three weeks later Emmett ventured out on another supply trip. You had silently been having a particularly difficult day. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything, neither your book nor the pencil drawings you had picked up since being around Emmett. Your mind felt hyperactive but so overly tired at the same time and you wanted to venture out for a walk but you knew Emmett would have a fit if you left the space without him. Instead, you settled down on his bed and waited for him to come back once more. When he did return, again carrying a small pile of books, you didn’t bother getting up to greet him like you usually did. You stayed curled up on the sheets and stared at the wall, overcome with a wave of despondency that made you feel paralysed. Emmett watched you as you lay there, and after putting away all the supplies, came to lay down beside you. He hesitated before touching you, unsure how to handle this mood, but eventually decided to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back until you were flush to his body. 

He had grown overly fond of you in the time since you had invaded his life. You had become life itself to him. At first he had dreaded the thought of caring for someone else. After the way it had ended with his children and Nora, he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone but himself. He would have no regret of his own death. But then you started complimenting his drawings and trying to make the little hovel prettier wherever you could. You told him stories of your life before while you guys ate or you simply existed beside him, a presence always there to reassure him. And it made his heart feel all warm and reminded him what was so good about being alive in the first place. 

He had thought about what people would have said about you two if the apocalypse hadn’t happened. He had thought every single judgemental thought about how young you were and how old he clearly was next to you. But then he remembered that this wouldn’t have happened without an apocalypse anyway. The world was gone, and with it norms and propriety. While he still had his values, he also recognised you were an adult now, and in this world it didn’t matter if he was older. All that really mattered was if you felt the same way about him. 

Emmett pressed his lips to the back of your head and waited, listening to your breaths shudder slightly as you pressed back against him, hands coming up to clasp his. You ran your thumb over his knuckles a few times before turning over to face him. You clasped his face in your hands and made sure he met your eyes. He could see that they were shiny but no tears had fallen yet. 

“Don’t leave me alone anymore,” you whispered, “I can’t stay here waiting for you to come back wondering if you even will. I feel sick to my stomach every time you walk out because you are all I have left. If you die out there, then I have no reason to keep living. You carry my heart with you everywhere you go, right here,” you gently patted his chest, “so I can’t have you going out there without me anymore. I can’t. If you die, I die.” Emmett stared into your eyes. You were so serious, not a single stutter in your words, and all he could do was whisper ‘ok’ in return. You nodded, still grasping his face in your hands, before moving forward and kissing him gently. 

Emmett pushed himself even closer to your face, his nose pressing into the crevice between your nose and cheek, and slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hand slid under your shirt, tickling the warm skin as he ran it up until he was grasping your breast in his hand. He couldn’t get enough of you already. Your mouth was so soft and each kiss became more ravenous as both of you pressed your open mouths together. He gripped your breast and squeezed revelling in the breathy sounds you let into his mouth, rubbing your nipple and pinching it, flicking the little nub until you were moving your hips without realising. 

Emmett moved over you until he was settled into the space between your legs and began grinding into you, settling his weight onto your body. You pulled away from his mouth and hurriedly lifted off your shirt. You began tugging at his but he just pushed your hands away and threw it off himself. Everything had escalated so quickly that neither of you had patience for anything but getting him inside of you as quickly as possible. The air around you had become boiling hot and the space between you was stifling.

He was quick to unbutton your pants and push them down until one leg had been freed. Neither of you cared about the other leg. His own were pushed down just until he was freed and he let out a groan of relief right into your ear. When you began trying to push him down and into you, he pressed down on your hips and hushed the whines that burst out of you. 

“I have to prep you, come on baby,” he kissed your cheek, your chin, your neck, then reached down to the apex of your thighs. You were wet all over and so hot he could feel the heat before he even touched. He panted into your neck as he began gliding his fingers along your pussylips, pressing between them and twisting his index and middle fingers so they were covered in your slick. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby,” he muttered into your neck, pressing his fingers to your clit. “My baby’s dripping all over and it’s all for me, huh?” He seemed to be talking to himself as it didn’t matter if you answered or not. You were too lost in the sensations of his rough fingertips running back and forth over your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing and pinching until your legs were trying to close around his hand and your hips were wriggling. 

“Daddy, please,” you whispered, and he groaned so loud you rushed to slap your hand over his mouth. God it had been so long since a woman had called him that. If he wasn’t careful he would cum from humping your leg. Emmett pushed a finger into you and instantly started up a rhythm. He felt your squishy insides and the texture of your walls and curled his fingers every time he pushed them into you. Your legs had fully tightened around his hand that he couldn’t see it anymore but it didn’t matter, as long as he could move it and watch the way you scrunched up your face, panting into the air, he could die a happy man. 

It took you all of two minutes to reach your peak like that, clit bullied and filled with his fingers. Once you had begun to come down, he was quick to pull his hand away from you and focus on prying your thighs apart again. The sticky sound of your thighs opening up was music to his ears and he lined himself up to your entrance. You were still a little sensitive from your first orgasm and the feeling of him spearing through you made you convulse. You dug your nails into his shoulders and cried out but he had already covered your mouth with his hand. He pressed in until your hips met and his pelvis squished your clit through your folds. He took a moment to breathe heavily against your neck, adjusted himself slightly, and keeping his hand over your mouth, began to thrust into you. You bit into his palm but he only grunted and kept on, slamming into you over and over. You were jelly, you were a hot melted pool of pleasure, ready to be used for whatever he desired. Your legs felt like they were being zapped with electricity and your arms were so tight that they might fall off if you let go of Emmett. 

The pleasure began to climb, and you could feel it building in your stomach. The tingles sped up, and the pressure increased until you were clenching down on him over and over again. His pace faltered at the feeling but he was quick to get back at it. He reached down to press harshly at your clit but it was too harsh at first and you jolted away from him with a yelp. He shushed you and gently began rubbing it in circles and you came all over him. The tightening from your orgasm triggered his own and he pushed inside you fully and began twitching, grunting like a wild beast into your shoulder. He had bit down onto the flesh and you could still feel his teeth there even when he pulled away to begin kissing you. 

Both of you lay there for a while, just feeling everything in your bodies. Once the sweat had cooled on your skin, you turned over and whispered into Emmet’s ear, “I love you.” 

And when Evelyn Abbott and her family came falling into Emmett’s little sanctuary, what they weren’t expecting to encounter was a pregnant young lady with him.

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (4)

Chapter Four: A Different Approach

Gif by @azertyrobaz

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: A reunion may be on the cards sooner than you thought

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, gambling, again we have my interpretation of headspaces, limited use of y/n, fluff and mild angst, discussion of character death, protective reader and Hunter, reader and Crosshair kinda get into it

Word Count: 5.3K

Author's notes: Now we're getting into part of the series where each episode allows for a bit more creative license which I'm very excited about! It starts with the end of this one and I hope y'all like it! Also, with regards to tagging people, I'm only tagging the users who still officially register when I do it. Please, please let me know if you want tagged/for me to try your username again!!

Sparks flew from the control as Omega did her best to stabilise them, but it was proving to be a rather challenging task. “I could use some help up here! Our comms are down. I can’t contact Hunter!”

From down below in the shuttle, Crosshair was also doing his best to get things under control but the smoke, electrical malfunctions and the persistent screech of the alarm told him that was a very unlikely outcome. He analysed the screen dictating the state of the ship. “That’s not the priority. The ship sustained heavy damage.”

“I can see that.” Omega retorted.

Crosshair made his way back up to the co-pilot’s seat, with Batcher following close behind. “Get the stabilizers back online!”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Immediately after she said that a large spark of electricity crackled from the console and the ship was torn out of hyperspace and spiralled towards the planet ahead.

“We have to land.”

“A little hard to do when nothing’s working.” Omega snapped at him as she fiddled with the steering but to no avail.

The ship entered the atmosphere and started to plummet towards the ground.

Omega pulled hard on the lever to even out the ship as the ground grew ever closer. It was all she could do before it crashed landed and skidded along the surface.

When it finally came to a halt, Omega opened the glass roof to allow them all to get some air and eventually exit the wrecked vehicle. She looked in dismay as the controls fully shut off and the last dying spark flickered. “This will take forever to repair.”

Crosshair exhaled a sore sigh as he got his bearings, but that soreness was soon replaced by irritation as the hound pushed insistently on the back of his chair. “No. there’s no time for that.” The dog’s fussing got too much for him. He stood up to allow her to jump past him and off the shuttle.

“We need to get the nav reader online to extract the coordinates to Tantiss for when we go back.” Omega said, turning to look at him.

He couldn’t understand how she’d only just escaped that hell and was already talking about returning. “We’re not going back.”

“We left the other prisoners behind.”

“And the Empire is going to be searching for this ship and us.” He grabbed the pack with the blasters and hopped out of the shuttle. “We have to move. I scanned a spaceport a few clicks east. We’ll start there.”

Omega followed his example and let him lead the way to the spaceport.

--

With the establishment of the new plan being they would get to the spaceport and sneak onto a shuttle, they acquired their disguises and the two of them blended in with the civilians of the town.

They walked past the various troopers in the town as casually as they could so as not to arouse any unnecessary suspicion.

Omega warily analysed the situation ahead as they reached the spaceport. “It’s too well-guarded. We’ll never slip past all those troopers undetected.”

“I can take out at least half before they know what’s happening.” Crosshair stated confidently.

“Or… or we could try a way that doesn’t involve blaster fire.” Omega countered.

“Like what?” Crosshair asked, his voice filled with doubt.

“Watch and learn.” With that, Omega calmly led the way to the ticket attendant.

“Oh, I can hardly wait.” Crosshair said with a sigh as he followed a few paces behind.

“Hello. We’d like two tickets on the next shuttle please.” Omega requested pleasantly.

“Chain codes?” Came the standard reply from the attendant.

“About that. We lost our chain codes.” Omega said coyly.

“No chain codes, no passage.”

“Right. But you see, a problem for us could be an opportunity for you if, say, you knew of an alternate way of booking passage without a chain code.” She advanced towards the desk.

The attendant leaned forward. “Are you insinuating that I should take bribe?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Omega replied, feigning innocence.

“I do. And that could be arranged… for 15,000 credits.”

Omega’s composure slipped slightly upon hearing that price, “For two tickets?” She exclaimed.

“Per ticket. And it’s non-negotiable. You’re lucky I’m not charging extra for the creature.”

“Where do you expect is to get 30,000 credits?”

“Sounds like a you problem. Don’t come back without the credits.” The attendant waved a hand in dismissal.

Omega hung her head in defeat and left the port with Crosshair.

“Well, that went well.” Crosshair remarked sarcastically.

“Stow it.” Omega grumbled.

--

“Storming the spaceport would be easier than finding 30,000 credits.” Crosshair hissed as they aimlessly wandered the streets of the town.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Don’t be naïve. Every second we’re here, we’re at risk.”

They came to a stop outside a bar.

“The quite wasting time complaining.” Omega argued before two troopers exited the bar and they both averted their gaze, but the opening of the door had given Omega another idea. “I think I know how we can make some fast credits.”

“Of course you do.” Crosshair mumbled as he saw her getting ready to make her way into the bar. The fluttering of a scrappy piece of paper caught under a nearby crate grabbed his eye before he entered, and he came to a sudden stop as he picked it up and saw what- or rather who- was on it.

Omega noticed he had stopped and when she turned back to enquire what was wrong, the question died on her lips as she saw what he was looking at. Only half the information on the sheet was news to her, but the rest made her eyes widen in shock. By the looks of things, you had been on your own for the time she’d been on Tantiss and clearly, you’d stopped hiding. And judging by the harsh language and substantial reward offering, the Empire wasn’t too happy about that. Now, not only was there the trouble of how exactly this information would go down between you and Crosshair but she also couldn’t count on the fact that you were back with Hunter and Wrecker. She glanced up at Crosshair and, despite the fact that most of his face was covered, he could not conceal the emotions that flashed behind his eyes. “Oh… um… she- well back when- I’m sure she would’ve told-” She broke off with a sharp breath as she struggled to find the words to say.

“Doesn’t matter.” Crosshair said dismissively, crumpling it up and putting it away before he carried on into the bar. The fact that Omega seemed to already have an idea of what your… situation… gave him enough of a timeline to go off of.

“One thing at a time, right girl?” Omega said with a shaky breath, patting Batcher’s side as the hound nuzzled into her. Putting her mind onto the task at hand, she too entered the bar.

--

The bar itself was relatively busy, especially compared to how Cid’s had usually been, and it gave Omega the chance to study her potential adversaries from their booth by the wall unnoticed.

“That’s your plan? You want to hustle someone?” Crosshair repeated sceptically. What had they taught this kid?

“I’ve done it before, and I prefer to think of it as a temporary requisition of funds.”

“And bet with what? We don’t have anything.”

“They don’t know that.” Omega said with a cheeky grin.

“And if you lose?”

“Well… I guess we’ll be in more trouble.” With that, she made her way to the card table in the middle of the bar and sat across from the Trandoshan and got her performance ready to go.

--

To say that Crosshair was surprised would be an understatement, the kid was winning every hand against the Trandoshan and securing credits within a matter of minutes. Whatever experience she’d gained with the rest of his squad was clearly something to be admired. Although the mental image of Hunter even allowing her to hone such a skill felt very out of place, he was quietly grateful for it right now.

The bar came to a sudden hushed silence as the door opened. Omega heard Crosshair clear his throat in warning and she looked to the entrance to see an Imperial officer flanked by two troopers enter. She studied them carefully but remained at the table as she won the next hand much to the Trandoshan’s disappointment. “I think I’ll quite while I’m ahead.” She said in response to his pleas for another game. Having an Imperial official here complicated matters and it was time she, Crosshair and Batcher left.

“Leaving so soon?”

Omega turned her head to face the officer as he stood by the table.

“You’re in my seat.”

The Trandoshan let out a low snarl before he departed and gave up his seat to the man.

Crosshair tensed as he saw the Imperial sit but Omega waved him back.

“So, you think you’re good at this game?”

Omega replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

“Want to try against a, uh, real opponent?” He suggested to the young girl. “I insist.”

--

“Your mutt don’t seem to like me.” He said as the dog released a series of growls.

“She’s harmless.” Omega said in reply as she organised her cards.

“She’s a distraction. Get rid of her.” He demanded.

Omega signalled to Crosshair to take her out.

Crosshair got to his feet, clicked his tongue, and led Batcher to wait outside.

The Imperial watched them go. “Never seen you or your dad around before.” He commented.

“We’re just passing through.” Omega replied as she watched him flip the next card and the rise in murmurs indicated that both he and the crowd seemed to think her time was up.

“Eh, I’ll admit you’re not bad. But you seem to have misunderstood your enemy.”

Omega only smirked, “Did I?” She placed her cards down and flashed the set of the three Eastern Stars. Game over. “I’ll take those 20,000 credits.” She grew nervous however when his two guards made to approach the table.

He held a hand up to stop them. “I concede. You beat me fair and square.” He gave her the credits. “Nicely played.” He left the table.

The Imperial went back to his men and one of them addressed him.

“Sir. Patrol found a crashed Imperial vessel on the outskirts of town.”

“I wasn’t notified about any shuttles arriving today.” He angled back to look at the two strangers with a newfound sense of suspicion. “Now, hang on a minute.”

Omega gathered the credits in her bag and, now that Crosshair had returned, she got up to leave with him, but the familiar voice of the Imperial stopped them both.

“We’re not done here.” He chuckled coolly. “You haven’t paid your fine.”

“What fine?” Omega asked.

“Gambling’s illegal in these parts.”

“What?” Crosshair snarled as he made to step forward, but Omega’s arm stopped him.

“The law is the law. Now, all you gotta do is pay the fine. And I’ll be on my way.”

“How much?” Omega asked him as she did her best to keep her disgust at bay.

“Ten thousand credits… unless you prefer to be arrested instead.”

Omega got the credits out and handed them over.

“Excellent. Consider your fine paid in full.” He said smugly. “Try and stay out of trouble.” He dipped his cap and left the establishment.

Omega sighed in relief. “Let’s get out of here.”

Crosshair caught her shoulder. “How many credits do we have left?”

Omega checked the bag. “Thirty-five thousand. Enough for two tickets and a little extra.” She made the first move to leave.

--

“Crosshair, where’s Batcher?” Omega asked anxiously as she scanned the area for her companion.

“Oy. You looking for that hound?”

The two of them turned to look at the young boy speaking to them.

“You know where she went?” Omega queried.

“Sure do, but the answer’s gonna cost you. Ten thousand credits.”

The fact that he was a child made no difference, Crosshair sighed and stood intimidatingly over the boy. “I’m getting tired of this.”

“Okay, okay.” The boy backtracked. “Five, but that’s my final offer.”

Omega touched Crosshair’s arm to call him off before she gave the boy the money.

The boy examined the credits before he supplied the information, “That Imperial officer and his troopers snatched the creature and headed for the cargo docks. Down that way.” He pointed. “Nice doing business with ya.” He ran away from them before they could change their mind about the money.

Omega started off in the direction of the docks.

“Omega.”

She angled back to face Crosshair. “You heard him. Batcher’s this way.”

“And the spaceport is that way. Forget the hound. We have to get off this planet.”

“We never would be escaped without Batcher. I’m not leaving her.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“I’m not abandoning her!” Omega angrily tossed the bag of credits at him. “Take the credits. If you wanna go, then go. I’ll find my own way.” She stormed off.

Crosshair watched her go but before he got ready to go his own way, he felt guilt coil in his gut. It was becoming very clear as to the impact she could have on someone and explained why his squad had cared so much for her since he too found himself following her rather than doing the more sensible thing of leaving from the spaceport.

--

“Fine. We’ll do this your way.” Crosshair agreed begrudgingly as he placed the bag down before Omega scaled the gate to the cargo docks herself. “But my skills are being wasted.” He offered his hands as a means to boost her over the top.

Omega gave him a warm smile, “Noted.” With his assistance she was able to climb over the gate with ease.

Crosshair made the quick climb after her and together, they snuck through the docks looking for where Batcher was being kept.

Omega then heard a series of whines and she saw Batcher’s cage. “There’s Batcher.” She signalled to Crosshair before she analysed the situation around her. “Shouldn’t we free the other animals too?”

“Don’t push it.” Crosshair replied.

--

They had managed to covertly make their way around to get better access to the centre console but before they could make a move, that dull voice spoke up.

“I thought you’d come searching for your mutt. Yeah, unfortunately for you, Lau has a very strict pet policy. No license means a hefty fine.”

“How much this time?” Omega asked, pretending to play along as the two of them were swiftly surrounded by troopers.

“How ‘bout you give me all my money back? Credits won’t do you any good when Hemlock shows up.” He saw the shared looked between them. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t piece it together when I found that crashed shuttle? Nothing gets by me. I run this town.” He drew his own blaster. “So, hand over the credits and surrender.”

Omega sighed, “Alright.” She chucked the bag to the Imperial. “Let’s try things your way.” She murmured to Crosshair.

“Finally.” Crosshair waited until Omega ducked to cover before firing the first shot, but he noticed his hand was still no unsteady and his aim was more compromised than he liked.

Omega used the chaos of the firefight to get to the controls and release all the animals, the resulting stampede thinning out the Imperial forces and reuniting her with Batcher.

“I’ll handle this. Take Batcher, and power up the ship.” Crosshair ordered. He provided her cover fire as she got the ship ready and when he saw a break in the blaster fire, he made his move towards the step.

Once he was on board, Omega got the cargo ship in the air and into the safety of hyperspace.

--

You had remained on the ship to study Tech’s datapad and the various planets and their coordinates whilst the other two dealt with the lead on this particular planet, but its name escaped you- you’d been to so many in this sector already, the names of them were beginning to blur together.

You were doing what you could to try and determine the next, more efficient course of action whilst the others were out but the words and data on the screen were moulding into one pile of unintelligible information. You put the datapad down for a minute and rubbed your eyes as you huffed a tired breath from your lungs. You stretched your neck and adjusted your posture but before you picked the datapad back up, a faint chirping caught your ears.

You swivelled in your chair to see the communications light flashing and you knew you weren’t supposed to be hearing from Echo any time soon. So, when you patched the encrypted message through and untangled it to find coordinates to the moon just outside of Ryloth, you knew there was only one other person who could’ve sent it.

You jumped out of your chair and cleared the steps of the Marauder in one leap before you sprinted to find Hunter and Wrecker.

--

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked urgently as he saw you come running towards them.

You shook your head as you glanced between them. Your breath was heavy from the running but also from excitement as you said, “It’s Omega.”

--

“Look, I hate to be the one to say it, but what if this message is a trap?” Wrecker broached carefully as the ship flew through hyperspace.

“Who else would know those codes?” You disputed.

“But if the Empire has her…”

“If it’s a trap, then we’ll get out of there but if it is her… we need to be there, Wrecker.” Hunter said as the ship disengaged from hyperspace, and he entered the landing cycle. There was no sign of another ship yet, but he opened the door anyway.

“There’s no one here.” Wrecker murmured, wringing his own hands anxiously.

“Then we wait.” You said calmly though your own heart was pounding.

--

“The Empire will be able to track this vessel. We need to ditch it.” Crosshair advised as he entered the cockpit after getting rid of the hat and face covering that he had donned back in Lau.

“We will. I’m heading to a remote location, and I sent a coded transmission for Hunter and Wrecker and (Y/N) to meet us there.” Omega responded. She only hoped you’d be with them too.

Now that this reunion was approaching ever closer, he found himself unprepared for what was to happen next. “Omega. It’s- it’s been months. You don’t know if they’re still ali-”

“They’ll be there.” Omega interrupted sharply.

The ship exited hyperspace and as she peered out the window, she saw the welcomed sight of the Marauder waiting there.

Omega dashed down the ship’s steps but paused as she saw no immediate sign of any of you.

--

A few hours had passed but there was still no sign of the ship and nerves were starting to get the better of you all.

Hunter had begun pacing the length of the cockpit, you had not stopped fidgeting with your vibroblade and alternated between that and examining the hilt of your lightsaber, and Wrecker was busying himself around the rest of the ship.

You saw the uneasy expression on Hunter’s face, and you pulled yourself together enough to be there for him. You caught his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Just wait, take a breath. She’ll be here, Hunter. I know it.”

“But-” He broke off as he heard the sound of a ship landing and a whole different type of nerves overtook him.

Wrecker made the first move to look outside and what he saw filled him with pure joy. “Now there’s a sight!”

Take your time. You caressed Hunter’s cheek with a comforting and utterly relieved smile before you ran outside to join Wrecker.

Hunter braced his hands on the back of the pilot’s chair. He needed a minute to gather himself. This was the moment he had been seeking out for months but part of him couldn’t quite believe it was happening.

--

“Wrecker!” Omega cried in relief as she ran towards him and let him pick her up.

“I wasn’t even sure your message was real!” Wrecker said with a happy laugh as he held her close.

“I knew you’d show up.” Omega closed her eyes and let the comfort of his strong hold overtake her.

“We wouldn’t have missed it.”

Omega opened her eyes to the sound of your voice, and she smiled brightly as she saw you standing just behind him.

You knelt down with your arms open as Wrecker lowered her.

Omega fell into your embrace and nuzzled into your shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if- I thought you might’ve been-” She pulled away with a teary sniff.

You tilted your head as you tenderly wiped away the tears that had slid down her cheek and stroked a hand through her hair, the longer length of it a painful reminder of how much time had truly passed. “I’m right here, nothing happened to me.” You didn’t need to worry her about past events right now- that rehashing undoubtedly would come up later- but this current moment was something to be celebrated and not clouded by anything else.

Omega went to clarify what she meant but Wrecker’s words stopped her.

“We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you.” Wrecker revealed, wiping his own tears away.

“Five.”

Omega glanced past you as she heard Hunter’s voice and the sight of him created a feeling of pure elation that she wasn’t sure she would never experience again.

“But you’re the one who found us.” Hunter said with a smile from the doorway of the Marauder.

Omega started to run towards him.

Hunter darted down the steps two at a time and came to his knees as he held his arms out to her.

Your heart swelled and the emotions of the moment got stuck in your throat. That sight had been one you had been waiting to see for quite some time. You sensed and visibly saw how relaxed and content he looked, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Wrecker put a friendly arm around your shoulder as you both go to your feet, and he saw your reaction to their reunion. He too felt himself getting caught up in it all. Finally, things were looking up.

“We missed you, kid. We never stopped searching.” Hunter said affectionately and as he tightened his hold on her and felt her reciprocate, for the first time since Ord Mantell, he felt truly at peace. He pulled away but kept his hands on her shoulders, “But how did you escape?”

Omega hesitated before saying, “I had help.”

Hunter looked past her to see… well to see his brother descend the stairs of the ship, but what hit him was far more complicated than the relief he had been experiencing a mere second before.

You all followed his eyes and whatever happiness and lightness that had been surrounding you all immediately vanished and was replaced by a palpable tension as you all faced the clone that walked down the steps.

Your hand automatically came to cover your lightsaber.

Omega gaze darted between you all and she saw the shift in body language as well as the serious and distrusting expressions on all of you. It appeared she may have miscalculated as to how this smoothly this particular reunion would go.

“We can do this now and remain by a ship the Empire will be currently tracking, or we can get out of here.” Crosshair said simply.

Hunter placed a guiding hand on Omega’s back and jutted his head to Crosshair as the rest of you boarded the ship.

Crosshair followed them, with Batcher now close on his heels and the Marauder entered hyperspace once more.

--

Omega stood in the middle of the hallway. None of you had so much as made a sound or really moved since the ship had begun the journey back to Pabu and it was getting rather unbearable. “So… I got a dog! Her name’s Batcher.” Omega said with an uneasy laugh into the dead silence of the ship, but it got no reaction. The four of you continued your standoff with Crosshair positioned down the hall of the ship closest to her room/gun turret and the rest of you closer to the cockpit. All of you had your arms crossed and you, Hunter and Wrecker looked particularly guarded. She took that resulting quiet as her cue to perhaps let you all have it out right now. She took a seat and called Batcher over to sit by her feet and waited.

It was Crosshair who broke the silence first, “Where’s Echo?”

“Working with Rex.” Hunter replied briskly.

Crosshair released a soft hum in acknowledgement before he asked the question that he’d been putting off since he’d deduced it from how Omega had talked to him all those months on Tantiss, “And Tech… he’s- he’s really gone?”

“Yeah. It-” Hunter released a sad sigh, “It was a mission gone wrong and he- he sacrificed himself for us so we could get away. He knew what he was doing but… yes, he’s gone.”

Crosshair’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly what mission Hunter was referring to. “So much for Plan 88.” He couldn’t help but say, the grief and tense situation getting the better of him.

“What?” You remarked with a glare.

“You were supposed to stay hidden.”

“We couldn’t do that.” Wrecker said grimly. “Not when it looked like you were in trouble.”

“We couldn’t leave you behind, Crosshair.” Hunter added quietly, some of the fight leaving him as he recalled the events of Eriadu.

“Why? You never had trouble doing that before.” Crosshair retorted harshly.

“Excuse me?” You growled.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t-” Hunter came to stand in front of you, but you stepped past him.

You couldn’t help it, the protectiveness that hit you was all you could act on. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw your choices back in his face. You were offered a different path, but you decided the Empire was where you wanted to be. And yet, despite all of that, the moment we found out you needed us, there was no real alternative. We never knew what had happened to you, but we didn’t need to. All we knew was that you were in trouble. We all knew the risks of ignoring that plan… Tech knew the risks. Don’t you dare-”

Crosshair wasn’t prepared to explain what happened to him yet, so he kept up with his provocation instead, “You want to talk about risks? What are you playing at staying around with them?”

Hunter and Wrecker both looked sharply towards Crosshair.

Your posture stiffened. “I don’t know what-”

“I may have been out of action but I’m not blind. If the lightsaber on your belt didn’t give it away, the wanted poster I just saw sure as hell did.” Crosshair spat as he flung it towards you.

You unfurled the paper, and your breathing became irregular saw this was one of the more detailed wanted ads that had been circulated. You crumpled it back up and then glanced to Omega who could only offer an apologetic grimace that she couldn’t warn you earlier, “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

You looked back to the clone, “Crosshair, I-”

“You’re a Jedi and that wasn’t something you felt the need to share?”

“Every day.” You said tightly, “But I couldn’t chance something happening-”

“Well, something’s happened now, hasn’t it?” Crosshair bit back angrily. “Do you have any idea the danger you’ve put us in? Do you even care? You’d be doing us a favour by leaving.”

Even Omega joined Wrecker in shaking her head at him this time.

“Crosshair.” Hunter cautioned as he saw the guilt and shame that flashed across your face as your mask of composure slipped. “She’s not going anywhere. We’ve handled it so far.”

“You don’t know what the Empire is capable or what she is. I read what she’s done, and they won’t stop-”

“We’ve got it handled.” Wrecker repeated again as he noticed the way your shoulders started to heave.

Your jaw clenched. “You weren’t there. You don’t know-”

“I was there on Devaron.” Crosshair snapped. “I was there when you decided to join us. I was there when you decided to spend every day lying about what you are.”

“Crosshair.” Hunter warned again and there was no mistaking the protectiveness in his tone or his stance now.

Crosshair picked up on Hunter’s reaction, but he wasn’t to be dissuaded. “You want to judge my decisions, but you betrayed-”

“You don’t get to talk about betrayal, Crosshair.” Hunter interjected coldly as he came to stand by your side.

You only let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I made my choices in the beginning but when would you have liked me to tell you, Crosshair? On Kaller? But would that have been during or after your attempts to kill the Padawan? Or perhaps you would’ve preferred it on Kamino when Tarkin was there, and you were talking about how great the Empire was and how the Jedi were traitors and what happened to them was justified? Or would you have liked to have a sit down during one of the many occasions you were already actively trying to kill us? Tell me, when should I have entrusted you with this part of me?”

This time he didn’t have a response for you, he just shifted uneasily on his feet and glanced down at the floor.

You continued to speak but there was a distinct sadness to your voice now, “I wished I had been honest with all of you from the start. Truly I do. But after everything that’s happened, I’m glad you’ve only just found out because looking at you now, knowing what I do, I can’t be certain that if you had known what I was on Kaller, that you wouldn’t have tried to kill me too.”

Crosshair went to speak but found that he couldn’t immediately offer the reassurance that was needed.

“You’re our brother, Crosshair, and you’re welcome to stay on Pabu with us but don’t expect any of this to be easy.” Hunter said, placing his hand on your back in support.

“He helped me get out of Tantiss. He’s different now.” Omega remarked quietly.

Wrecker grunted and nodded towards his brother, but you and Hunter made no such moves, instead you both retreated further into the cockpit.

You sat in one of the passenger seats and stared at the paper again as you read the painful reminders of how you’d acted when you’d been separated from them. He’s right, you know.

“No, he’s not.” Hunter disagreed firmly as he knelt before you and untangled the wrinkled piece of paper from your hands. He paid it no attention as he threw it away. He came back and placed his hands on your shoulders as he crouched before you. “Are you alright?”

You breathed deeply and nodded. And you?

Hunter also nodded before he got to his feet and sat in the seat across from you.

--

“So, when did this happen?” Crosshair asked, gesturing to the two of you. The way you both were behaving wasn’t totally different to how things had been in the months before Kaller, but there was a definite shift that marked something more official. There had been a lot he’d missed out on.

“After Tipoca City.” Omega informed him as Batcher eagerly greeted them.

Wrecker enthusiastically petted the hound as he moved closer to Crosshair and Omega. “About time, right?” He added with a hint of humour in his voice, but the stern looks from the two of you had him clearing his throat awkwardly.

Crosshair simply hummed in reply and found himself wondering just quite how difficult things were about to be.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69

[gavisfanta]

COLD WATER - PEDRI

summary: pedri was right from the beginning on, you should've listened to him.

warnings: none (i think) not proofread

"Don't drink too much" Pedri told you as the two of you entered the club along some other friends including Gavi, Fermin, Ferran, Raphinha, Frenkie and Balde.

Everyone brought their girlfriends if they even had one, so just 5 minutes later you were sitting at the bar with Sira, Mikky and Taia.

"I wanna get drunk." Taia put her head onto her hand and then you smiled while you sipped at your gin tonic.

"It's been so long for me, for real." You groaned and Taia gave you a huge smile while Sira and Mikky just watched the two of you.

"I don't wanna get drunk, I need to go to the park with Pacho tomorrow, he wants to discuss something." Sira shrugged her shoulders and then everyone looked at Mikky.

"I'm too old." She said which made all of you laugh a little. "No, I'm just not in the mood for dying tomorrow because of a headache."

"Then it's just you and me then, hm?" Taia smiled at you and you nodded your head. "What's the fastest way to get drunk?" You looked at her and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Probably Vodka or Tequila, I don't know tho" Mikky shrugged her shoulders and you turned to the bartender to order two of both for you and Taia.

Just a few meters away was Pedri sitting on a couch, his legs spread open as he was sipping on his water.

"What's up Pedrito?" Fermin sat down next to him, Pedri's gaze was strongly fixated on you, looking at every movement you made and at any guy who even dared to look at you.

"Nothing, what about you?" He asked again but Fermin shrugged his shoulders while looking at what his friend was looking at.

"Not much, why are you staring at her tho."

"I want her to be safe." Pedri murmured which made Fermin lean forward and give him a look.

"So your reassuring that she's safe by staring at her?" He asked, Pedri looked away from you and then at Fermin.

"You wouldn't understand." Pedri just shook him off and Fermin then laughed a bit. That also caught Gavi's attention who sat down on the other side of Pedri.

Just as Pedri looked back at you, you downed the Vodka and Tequila shots you have ordered with Taia.

"Ooh, she's not taking it easy tonight." Fermin teased him to which Pedri didn't even react. He just watched you.

In the following two hours you were wasted, dancing with Taia on the dancefloor and laughing at the most random stuff.

That was until Raphinha and Pedri came over to the two of you. You felt his hands wrap around your waist from behind and you leaned your head back to look at him.

His features looked so good in those purple lights in the club and his hair was sitting perfectly.

"What?" You laughed a bit and then turned around to face him.

"We're going home." He mumbled and you nodded your head. You tried to walk but you couldn't manage to walk in a straight line. Pedri quickly said goodbye to everyone and held you to himself by your waist.

"Okay, here." pedri opened the door of the passanger seat and grabbed you by your hips with both hands.

He then helped you sit inside and fastened your seatbelt for you. As he leaned over you, you pressed a kiss on his temple and grabbed his jaw while you did so.

Pedri couldn't help but smile as you did, he turned his head to look at you while his eyes were squinted cause of his smile.

"You're so hot." You mumbled and pushed his hair out of his face. Pedri just responded with a smile and then slammed the door shut. Then he made his way over to the wheel and sat down.

"i told you to not drink too much." He told you while he started the car. You just shrugged your shoulders while still feeling heavily toxicated.

"I know but I haven't been drunk in too long" You mumbled and threw your head back while you opened your legs.

"That's not good, now your head is just gonna hurt tomorrow and I don't like to see you in pain." Pedri explained while he put his hand on your tigh. You then put your hand on his and you moved it down to your core. However Pedri pulled away his hand again.

"You're drunk," he looked at you for a split second and you smiled a bit.

"And?" The laugh that was coming put of your mouth almost sounded desperate, a bit fake even.

"Take a shower, drink water and then ask me again. I don't wanna do anything against your will." Pedri mumbled towards you, the only thing that escaped your mouth was a small laugh.

He went to sit down on the bed and pulled out his phone.

"We're dating." You let your shoulders hang low while you looked at him. Pedri raised his gaze from his phone to your eyes again.

"Just go and shower amor." Pedri stood up and pushed his phone back into his pocket. His arm wrapped around your body as he guided you towards the bathroom. You then felt like you nodded to throw up, you quickly walked over to the toilet and grabbed the toilet seat with both of your hands before you puked.

Pedri hurried over to you and grabbed your hair to hold it back. He held your hair back with his left hand as his right one was rubbing your back.

After you sat down next to the toilet, Pedri leaned forward to flush. Then he stood over you while you looked up at him.

"I hate to break it to you princesa but I told you not to drink too much." Pedri leaned a bit forward and then smiled.

"You're a dick." You mumbled while you couldn't hide that small smile on your face. He was satisfied, he always liked to be right and he just proved once again that he is always right.

You don't know if you should be happy or mad that you just pushed his ego up even further.

"I'm not a dick, but you were trying to get on mine just a few minutes ago. Brush your teeth and then we'll go and shower." Pedri told you and then grabbed your toothbrush and the toothpaste you were using. He then sqeezed some of it on the brush and gave it to you, you were still sitting on the floor and just started brushing your teeth there.

Pedri stood over you and just watched you, eventually you stood up to spit it all out and then proceeded to wash your teeth a second time.

"Give me some gum please." You told Pedri and he walked back into the bedroom and over to your purse.

He grabbed your mint flavoured gum and then went back to you.

Eventually a few minutes later you two were now standing under the running water in the shower.

"It's cold." you said, hugging yourself with your arms. He pulled away your arms and then turned you around so that your back was facing him.

"That's how you sober up the fastest." Pedri started leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along your neck. Your wet skin felt a bit cold under his lips.

"Hm" you hummed while you leaned your head backwards against his back and he stood even closer to you, leaning down while his arms wrapped around your waist.

You then turned around to face Pedri and you saw water dripping from his soaked hair.

He pushed it back before he pulled you into another kiss, now your hands were interlocked behind his back and Pedri's arms wrapped even tighter around your waist.

The kiss started off as slow but then quickly turned intense and very fast. Lips moving in the same rhythm, salvia colliding and hands all over eachothers bodies.

"Are you sobered up now?" Pedri pulled away for a second to look at you. You however pulled him into thr kiss again and then pulled away a few seconds later.

"Yeah I am." Your lips made contact with his again, you literally weren't able to be away from him for even 5 seconds.

"Good." Pedri grabbed your hands and pushed you against the wall and smirked. "I hope that you're sober because I want you to remember this."

[xcherryerim]

Roommates Conflict

Mike Schmidt x afab fem!reader

word count: 3919.

warning: NSFW 18+, sexual tension, roommates to ???, stuck fetishism (the reader is stuck on the couch), consensual sex, porn with a plot, SoftDom Mike (little hints of submissiveness tho), pet names (princess, and baby), no use of y/n, in the middle of sex apology / love confession, a bit of fingering.

This is my first time writing smut so please let me know how it was so I can improve. If there are spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. My first language is Spanish.

summary: After fighting with your roommate for a month, you decide to discuss your issues with Mike but, your plans don't go accordingly, and then...Mike finds you stuck on the couch.

credits: @/kithsune for the separator

Mike has been your roommate for seven months now. At first, you thought sharing an apartment with a grown man and his little sister was about to be hell. Surprisingly, everything worked out. Mike was responsible and clean, and his sister was easy to care for. When you finally thought Mike was the best roommate imaginable, things quickly shifted.

You’re not sure if it is the long hours Mike must work or his lack of sleep making him grumpier and prone to irritation, but for the past month, the routine has been this: When you wake up after Abby is off to school and it’s just the two of you, Mike snaps, scolding you for forgetting to clean a few dishes, not finishing drying your laundry, not taking the trash out the week you were supposed to, etc.

You barely opened your eyes, and he was already being a bitch. Then, around 6 a.m., you waited for him to get home after his shift and pointed out that he was a hypocrite since he hadn’t done any major chores himself. Sometimes he pretends you aren’t there, he hisses, or he just accepts the truth and does the chores half-assed.

Today, however, you have a break from your usual responsibilities. And luckily, Abby is with her aunt for the day. Abby’s birthday was a few days ago, and Jane forgot. To keep up the façade of being a perfect aunt, she promised to take Abby to Disneyland, aka the fair down the street. How sweet.

You don’t mind, Abby. She is quiet, but a well-mannered kid. However, you wanted alone time with Mike to discuss the heated tension between the two. You decided to clean the apartment and do his chores for the day, like the dishes, sweeping the floor, throwing the trash, and even going grocery shopping so he didn’t have to go tomorrow. You knew he needed a break, too.

You finished the chores ten minutes before Mike would get to the apartment. When you sat on the old, washed-out couch, you felt a pointy object poke your lower back. The item slides down, going to the inside of the couch. A light sigh escapes from your lips as you turn, placing your knees on top of the sofa seat. You let both of your arms inside the couch, trying to find the mysterious gadget. After a few minutes of struggling, you catch it. You can tell it’s Abby’s gaming controller. She lost it a long time ago, so you know she’ll be happy to play on her console once again.

When you try to free your arms, it does nothing. You used your body force to pull away, but there was no use. You were stuck. You still insisted on doing anything to let you escape this embarrassment, and the thought of Mike seeing you like this sent shivers down your spine. You knew he would make fun of you until one of you moved out. With your strength running out, you pulled once more. No use. Loud steps filled the room, and you feared that your worst nightmare had just come true.

“What the fuck?” His eyes were wide open, a blush running across Mike’s unevenly shaved face. He tried to act as usual, but his mind was running wild. It didn’t help that he had a small crush on you that he tried to avoid and that he started to develop a new fetish. People being stuck.

“I’m stuck.” You answered, rolling your eyes at Mike. Is he always this annoying?

He stood there, not doing anything, but his eyes glimmered at you like he was admiring some piece of erotic art.

“Help me!” You demanded, but Mike just seemed overwhelmed. He walked toward his room. His knees are wobbly as he takes each step. You could hear noises like he was desperately looking for something. After a minute, the noises were gone, and the only thing you could hear was your heart beating like you had never felt before.

“Mike, help me! Mike?!” You were losing your patience. After some hesitation, Mike walks awkwardly towards the living room, his eyes never meeting yours fully.

“What?” He stuttered. Mike tried to use his usual monotone, but it came off as anxious.

“What do you mean, what?! Help me!”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

He got next to you, wrapping his rough hands around your wrist, slightly pulling.

“I’ve tried that. Is there no use?”

“Then what else do I do?” He sighs, his hot, heavy breath melting into the thin skin of your neck. You felt your body starting to shake like it had some sort of anticipation for him to just...

You let out an aggravated groan and shake your head like it will remove those naughty thoughts of you and your roommate. This whole situation is getting worse by the second.

“Well,” Mike said, clearing his throat. “I think... I might have an idea.” He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly, a warm smile appearing on his face, which felt unusual. You swore you had never seen him smile like that before.

You look at him suspiciously. Why did he ask if you trusted him? You weren't stupid. He always tried to mess with people in some way. But the longer you stayed like this, the more uncomfortable it became. 

"Fine. Do what you want. Just make it quick, please. This is humiliating as it is."

Mike swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "Okay," he said, nodding once. "Hold on tight," Mike whispered before getting behind you, his fingertips shaky as he slid his hands on your hips.

You let out a small gasp as your body prickles at Mike’s touch. He pressed himself against you, his body heat enveloping yours. As he tried to pull, his hardened member hit your ass multiple times. You could feel Mike’s heart racing against your back.

You didn't want him this close, but you couldn't deny that it felt nice in a weird, twisted way. As Mike grips your hips harder, using more force than before, your brain stops functioning for a second, unable to stop you from letting out a soft moan that you were desperately trying to avoid vocalizing out loud.

Mike froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't expect you to react this way. The moan sent waves of pleasure through his body, making him even harder against your ass. He tried to focus on the task at hand. He didn’t want to imagine himself pounding you as you were stuck, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing second.

“I’m sorry!” Both said it at uneven times.

“Let’s just ignore what happened and help me get off.” At this moment, you wish you could crawl under a rock and die, but you’ll probably get stuck there too.

Mike chuckled lightly, then nodded at your words, trying to clear his thoughts. He took a deep breath before sliding his hands back onto your hips. This time, he pulled with all his force, grunting as he tried to free you from the couch. The pressure building inside him couldn’t be denied, and it was clear that he was struggling to contain himself. With that, as his bulge caresses your ass, he lets a loud, desperate groan out of his dry lips. You gasped as one hand was finally free.

“It’s working…” As much as you want to hate this feeling, it’s making you feel some way. You wish you guys could forget about this so he can fuck you hard against the couch. Unintentionally, you let your ass follow the rhythm of his pulls.

Mike's mind was a mess of lust and confusion. He couldn't believe the legs in front of him were shaking in need. He was so focused on freeing you from the couch that he didn't even notice how his hips were moving in a pattern.

"Almost there." His voice was a mix of care and exhaustion. As you feel your hand slowly get loose, you decide to speak.

"Look, we clearly are... avoiding the fact that we’re really turned on right now.”

Mike’s attention suddenly went to the words being spoken, his breath catching in his throat, trying to process them. You're right, he thought. They were both so turned on by this, and they couldn't deny it any longer. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke.

"I know," he whispered. "But we have to stop."

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he continued, trying to sound calm and collected. "Once we're out of here, we can... we can do whatever you want."

“No.” The simple answer made him still. “Once I get out, we will be too embarrassed to even look at each other. You can’t see my face right now; I can’t see yours, so... let’s do it now.” You suggested. It felt humiliating; you hated that you sounded so needy, but for some reason, Mike had that effect on you now.

Mike was terrified and excited. He had never been so high on lust by someone before, and the thought of finally having you beg him to fuck you right here, in this awkward position, with your face buried in the cushions, was driving him crazy. It is like his darkest fantasy is finally going to come true. Without any thought, he removed his pants rapidly and slid a condom down his shaft.

Mike takes his hands up to your sides, gently caressing your skin as he slowly pulls you back towards him. His cock rubbed against the thin fabric of your shorts, which slightly hugged your soaking folds, eliciting a moan from both of you.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

Mike nodded slowly, his breath coming in short, unsure gasps. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against your ear. "Then let me show you how much I want you." He removed your shorts slowly and steadily. As soon as your underwear was removed, he licked his fingers before settling them in your folds. 

Mike’s hands were always something you stared at in secret when he wouldn’t notice, and now his rough, manly hand is wrapped around your most sensitive areas. The heat building up inside of you from just his touch alone was hunting.

"Please," you managed to croak out as he teased you mercilessly. Mike chuckled lightly before finally giving in and sliding his long fingers into you. You moaned loudly as he started moving them in and out, hitting all the right spots that made you feel pleased. His free hand reached down to roughly fondle your breasts through your shirt. You arched your back into his touch, begging for more. But instead of giving you what you craved, Mike pulled away suddenly, leaving you panting heavily.

Before you could ask why he stopped so suddenly, you felt his firm grasp forcing you to spread your legs. Your entrance was wet and inviting to him. Mike gently pushed his hips forward. His cockhead pressed against your tight cunt, and you could feel him throbbing with need. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, before slowly pushing forward. It wasn't long before you started to whimper harder. The smell of the combined arousal filled the small room, fueling him even more.

Mike moaned loudly, feeling you give in to him. He thrust his hips forward, burying deep inside with one swift motion. Your warmth engulfed him, and he couldn't believe how good it felt. 

"Fuck,” he whispered in your ear. "You feel so good." His raspy voice and uneven breaths made a high-pitched whine escape from your lips. As a response, Mike leaned closer, making his member fully inside you as he nibbled your ear.

“Was this your plan all along? Is that why you started to wear those slutty shorts more often?”

You tried to choke some words out, but the feeling of him inside you like this was so ecstatic and addictive that the only thing you could do was take him as he placed.

He started to move, his hips rolling back and forth in a steady rhythm. “You didn’t answer me.” His hot, sweaty body overpowered yours. “Use your words for me, would you?” he asked, his voice as delicate as his touch. Mike’s hand found the freed hand of yours, intertwining his fingers like he had to hold on for dear life. Every time he pulled out, only to push back in, he could feel you clenching around him. It was the most intense feeling he'd ever experienced. His breath came in ragged gasps as he lost himself by being inside you while you were helplessly stuck. 

The only thing you could do was shake your head side to side at his question, but the real answer was more complicated than that. The first time you wore shorts, it wasn’t intentional, but when he saw you with them, he seemed to listen to you with more attention as you scolded him for not doing his chores that day, so you started to use them in your favor from time to time.

Mike chuckled at your clear lie, and he started to speed up, your body pressing against the couch more intensely as he pounded you harder.

You didn’t imagine Mike being so good with his dick. It is not like you know his sexual life, but in your eyes, he seemed the type to not go around sleeping with people. His life is too stressful for him to even care for his own needs. Maybe it's all pent-up horniness.

Mike's eyes were closed, his face twisted in pleasure as he took you with long, deep strokes. He couldn't believe how good it felt to finally have you like this. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying it this much, but he couldn't help himself. He was lost in the moment, completely consumed by his desires.

His hand started to smack your behind. His slaps weren’t too strong to hurt you, but enough to make you gasp. As he increased the speed and started to smack harder, you let out sounds of pain and pleasure. “You can take it, baby, it’s okay,” Mike said, his calm voice contrasting his vile actions before slapping your ass one last time.

As he continued to thrust, he leaned down, biting your shoulder, almost like he wanted to hide his whiny moans. "Shit," he groaned again, pulling out of you slightly before pushing back in with a rougher force. "You're so tight."

“You need to stop pulling out... it’s cruel.” You said in between cries, his length making you feel lightheaded as if you could almost see stars.

Mike's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you. Without warning, he pulled out completely, leaving you empty. You could feel him throbbing against your ass, aching to be inside you again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he leaned over, his chest heaving.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I can't help myself."

“What?!” You stuttered; the sudden emptiness felt like hell.

“Do you always have to be an asshole?!”

Mike's heart broke at your words. He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't help himself. He needed you too much.

"No," he replied softly. "I don't."

His hands travel slowly from your hips to your chest. Cupping your breasts through your oversized shirt. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he lost control again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice quiet. "I know I've been an asshole this past month. There is no excuse for my behavior but—fuck!" Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the back of your neck. His tip pressed against your entrance again, and he whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

"Please forgive me," he said as he kissed your neck desperately. "Let me repay you for my bad behavior."

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you squeal. Your knees felt weak, and the air seemed to be overwhelmingly steamy. The only thought you have in your head is Mike pleasuring you and driving you to your limits.

With no response from you, his hands let go of your chest and quickly went to your shoulder. The sudden movement made you completely free from the couch edges. You immediately look down. The realization of what you guys were doing just settled in.

“Just look at me, please.” With a light force, he pulled you to face him, his body above yours. He is a mess. Red face with anxious teary eyes, sweat coming out of his forehead and traveling to his neck. He was a complete utter mess because of you, but you couldn’t deny the sight of him like this was so dreamy.

“Please, just forgive me.” Mike’s knees quickly touched the ground as his puppy eyes looked up at you. “I've been an asshole to you because I like you, and I know it’s wrong because we’re roommates, but... damn it. “His eyes shifted to your thighs, shaking in need, but the only thought in his mind was him being wrapped in them. He coughs, trying to regain composure.

After several moments of silence, Mike finally found the strength to speak, his heart racing faster than ever before. "I... I apologize for everything," he managed to croak out. "I'm sorry, but please, please let me feel you again." His voice cracked slightly as he reached out tentatively towards you, wrapping his arms around your leg in an embrace.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept his apology or leave him there alone. But then something changed inside you. Maybe it was just seeing how vulnerable he truly was, but you decided to relent. Reaching over to gently place your hand on his cheek, he pulled closer until your bodies finally connected once again. "It's alright," you whispered, giving him a small smile. “I sort of like you to-" Mike didn’t hear your confession. As soon as you said it’s alright, his arms picked you up with ease, making his way into his room.

He placed your body in his bed. “There you go.” He had an ear-to-ear smile. Mike turned on his nightstand lamp. The room was lit up slightly as the sunrise was shining through the windows, but the lamp brought more clarity to his room, which was tidied up nicely. If he was so obsessed with keeping his room clean, why couldn’t he do that with the apartment?

You find him scattering for something desperately. Lube. Once the lube is finally in his hand, he crawls into the bed with you, placing his swollen lips from all the biting he had to do to remain quiet into yours.

From the corners of your eyes, you can see him placing some lube on his palm and lightly spreading it across his cock, lightly stroking himself. A light whimper was vocalized as he kissed you. With one final stroke, he gets on top of you, a mischievous smirk plastered across his face as the thought of finally getting to see you lose your mind while his cock is inside you sends him waves of pleasure. Mike then looked at you with pleading eyes, asking for permission to continue, which you allowed.

This time, he didn’t hold back as he buried himself into your tight walls. The sudden coldness of the lube makes you shake. The combination of the lubricant and Mike’s hot member is driving you wild with desire. Making your hands dig into his back and your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer to you.

At your action, Mike picks up the pace, his hips moving faster and harder, his cock slamming into you with each powerful thrust. His cockhead contracts and releases, sending pleasure through your sensitive spot repeatedly. He groans louder, his breathing becoming heavier as he loses himself in the rhythm of their passionate lovemaking.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.,” Mike said it under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself.

“Mi- Mike.” His confession made your heartbeat follow the same speedy rhythm as his thrust. Your eyes were wide shut as your fingertips dug into his back.

Mike whines, and his fingers dig deeper into your hips, leaving marks that would likely turn into bruises later. You were not going to be the only one marking him. Mike wanted you to remember this. He then increased the speed of his thrusts, his hips moving faster than ever before as if he needed this release just as much as you did.

His rhythmical motion created a wet slapping sound that echoed around them, filling the room with the sounds of your lovemaking. His breath was raw against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of saliva along your collarbone. His tongue traced your jawline, nibbling and teasing your earlobes before returning to your mouth for a deep, passionate kiss.

He moaned again, his voice hoarse with desire. "Oh god, you feel so fucking good, baby." As Mike said this, he picked up the pace even more, his hips slamming against yours in a relentless rhythm. His cockhead rubbed against your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“I’m close.” You announced it with hesitation.

Bucking his hips harder, pushing his member deeper into you again and again with no mercy. "Cum for me, princess," Mike murmured. "Let me make you feel good. "Let me please you.” 

Mike’s words were like magic, his cock hitting your G-spot in perfect rhythm, driving you over the edge. With a loud, primal cry, your body convulsed around him, and you felt yourself climaxing intensely. Your tight walls contracted powerfully around his thick member, milking him dry as he continued to thrust inside of you.

As your orgasm subsided, Mike followed suit, his climax hitting him like a freight train. His cock twitched violently inside of you as he whined. His hold on your waist loosened slightly, but he didn't pull out just yet. Instead, he rested heavily on top of you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“So…” You said it awkwardly as you patted Mike’s head. 

“About the chores...”

Mike chuckled lightly, his lips forming a dumb smile as he looked up to you. 

“Yes, I’ll do them now. I promise.” Mike rolled his eyes and then placed his hand on your cheek. Caressing it with his thumb. “And… I’ll be a better roommate for you.” 

You nodded. “Thanks, Mike.” 

“I noticed you cleaned the apartment... So let me get you cleaned up.” Mike stood up and walked to his bathroom. You could hear the water hitting the bathtub. As you peeked to get a better glance, Mike turned his head to meet your gaze. 

“Let’s have a bath together.” He said this as he disappeared from view to grab a foaming bubble bottle.

“And who knows, maybe we could do round two.” Mike’s tone was cheeky and playful. He leaned into the door, looking at you up and down. Proud of how messy he made you. 

“Come on.” Mike smiled as he went to reach your hand, walking you into the bathtub.

FIN. Hope you guys liked it. Help me choose my next smut here!

Thank you so much for reading.

[tommydarlings]

Just relax | c.s & c.l

pairing: dom!carlos x dom!charles x sub!reader

warnings: smut, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, brief mention of spitting

w/c: 2.2k

summary: You really thought that Carlos, who’s basically your boss, needs some help with the informations of the upcoming projects, but you never thought that it was just a trap from the two Ferrari drivers to help you relax… in a very loud and messy way.

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“Y/n! Can you please come real quick!?” Carlos asked you loudly. You, as the nice and perfect media assistant of Ferrari that you were, you obviously immediately obeyed and made your way over to him.

Carlos quickly checked you out, eyes going over your body in a rather slow motion as you looked up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

“Yeah?” You asked him innocently. Hands clutching onto the various random stuff in your arms that Carlos had no idea of.

His eyes went up to your face again, “Can we quickly talk about some of the upcoming projects you suggested to me and Charles?” He asked you politely.

You furrowed your brows since you actually already explained everything to him and his teammate but these two are basically your chef’s so you also can’t say no.

But then you nodded, “yeah, sure.” You muttered before the Spaniard opened the door and let you enter his driver room.

What you didn’t realise tho, was that while you were entering his rather small room, Carlos removed his eyes from your smaller frame and looked over to Charles standing just a few feet away from Carlos’s room, lips slowly forming into a smirk while he tilted his head towards the door, towards you.

Both of their usually so bright and happy eyes now dark and filled with nothing else than lust.

Charles briefly leaned into mattia's ear and told him a quick, 'be right back' before he uncrossed his arms and made his way towards Carlos's drivers room, entering it right before Carlos closed the door behind him after he also entered the room.

You turned around as soon as you heard the lock on the door turning, “Oh! Hello Charles, congratulations to P2!” You congratulated him happily with a smile on your face.

“Oh, let’s see if your still gonna wear that pretty little smile on your lips when we're done with you cariño.” Carlos mumbled very quietly, eyes not leaving your frame while Charles eyes were also focused on you, smirk only growing as soon as he heard the words of his teammate.

You tilted your head with a grin on your face, “what?” You shook your head, basically asking Carlos to repeat his sentence again since you haven’t understood it.

He also shook his head before he quickly glanced over to Charles, “nothing cariño, nothing.” You were already used to the Spanish nickname Carlos gave you months ago.

“okay?” You whispered mainly to yourself, hands still clutching on the notebooks you were carrying.

Charles eyes briefly looked over to Carlos before he took slow steps towards you, until you had to look up at the monagueque. You gulped and put another innocent and kind hearted smile onto your lips.

He licked his lips before he raised one of his hands and grabbed your notebooks, pulling them out of your hands and laying them down onto the small table next to you. After that, Carlos removed his Ferrari cap and also threw it onto the table next to your work stuff.

Carlos's hand went trough his slightly sweaty hair, fingers ruffling through his soft dark hair as his eyes scanned your body.

“No! I need that for the things I need to discuss with Carlos-”

“Believe me mon amour, for the discussion that we're about to have, you don’t need your work related stuff.” Charles quickly interrupted you.

You furrowed your brows and pulled your gaze away from Charles and looked at Carlos. Then you put your gaze back to the man standing infront of you, confusion covering your face whilst the two men in the room with you didn’t say anything, only looked with a kind of dark expression at you.

“But, c-carlos… I though you wanted-”

“I know what I wanted y/n, I’m not dumb.” He told you in the meanest tone you ever heard coming out of his mouth, at least for Carlos usual so kind tone it was rather mean in your opinion.

“But now he wants something else, and I do too.” Charles muttered. You shook your head, not understanding their intentions.

Carlos slowly came closer to you, now standing right next to his teammate as he spoke up,

“You always work so much cariño.” The Spaniard mumbled while both of their eyes were scanning your body, gliding in a slow and pretty visible motion over your black skirt and red blouse.

“You deserve a tiny break don’t you think so, hmm?” Charles added, fingers brushing a strand of your hair out of your face and behind your ear.

You gulped, finger clutching onto your skirt since you were pretty nervous and didn’t quiet know what to do and what the two man want from you. You shook your head,

“N-No, I mean… it’s fine, you know? It’s my job and I really enjoy my job here at Ferrari so it’s okay that I always have to work so much.” You quickly nodded along your words, eyes looking up at the two drivers.

Carlos sighed and relaxed his shoulders a bit, “You still deserve a tiny break baby, you do… trust us.” He mumbled before he went past your standing figure and sat himself down onto the small red couch in his driver's room.

Charles briefly left your gaze and looked over to his teammate who only briefly nodded at him but you didn’t noticed that, too lost in your own thoughts.

“Why don’t you let us take a bit of care of you?” Charles tilted his head as he asked you that.

Carlos spread his legs, manspreading onto the comfy couch as soon as he noticed Charles taking slow steps towards you, forcing you to walk backwards.

The back of your legs hit the couch and you swiftly turned around only to see Carlos eyes quickly pulling his eyes away from your ass and looking you deep in the eyes. Charles leaned forwards so that his mouth hovered right above your ear,

“Just relax.” He whispered into your ear, palms catching your hips and slowly letting you fall back right onto his teammate's lap.

You gasped as soon as Carlos’s hands got a hold of your hips while Charles got on his knees infront of you. Carlos gently turned his head and ran his nose along your cheek and temple before he aligned his mouth with your ear just like Charles did,

“This is okay, right cariño?” He asked you softly. Fingers slowly gliding along your thighs and lifting up your black skirt but not past your hips, eagerly waiting for your permission.

You swallowed and put your gaze back to Charles who’s on his knees infront of you, hands removing your heels and putting them carefully to the side, obviously doing that while holding eye contact with, also waiting for your answer.

After a few seconds of thinking, you nodded.

Carlos just wanted to nod with his head, smile already forming on his lips but Charles quickly slapped his leg, grabbing his attention.

The Spaniard looked at him with furrowed brows. Charles only raised his brows before he silently mouthed him the word 'words'. Carlos confusion disappeared.

“Well, tell her Leclerc.” Carlos told his teammate.

Charles turned his focus back on you and stood up while he had a rather tight grip on your thighs, spreading them and bending them so that your knees touched your red blouse.

His nose was so close to touching yours, smirk covering his soft lips while his eyes were watching your facial expressions.

He raised his hand brushed the tip of his pointer finger along your jaw, “you will only answer us with words, am I clear?”

You gulped and quickly turned your head to look at Carlos but Charles didn’t really like that so he tightened his pointer finger and thumb so that you weren’t able to look at his teammate.

“Am I clear?”

“y-yes.” You answered quietly, eyes not daring to leave his eyes.

Carlos chuckled into your ear before he gave you a quick kiss onto your temple and cheek.

“Good.” He mumbled happily while Charles fingers briefly squeezed your cheeks together and kissed your nose before he went back down onto his knees inform of you, properly bending your legs again.

He started to trail kisses up the inside your legs, a few on your left leg while holding eye contact with you and then switching sides to kiss your other leg.

While Charles was slowly kissing his way up your legs, Carlos hands left your hips and opened the button do your blouse, revealing your white bra, matching with your thong.

You were to focused on Carlos eyes watching how his big hands opened every single one of the tiny buttons and opening up your red blouse that you didn’t even notice at first how Charles’s hands removed your thong, throwing it carelessly away.

“Tellement jolie mon amour.” So pretty my love.

Charles told you quietly while his fingers were gently touching the soft skin of your thighs, eyes admiring your already slightly wet cunt with heart eyes.

You jumped a bit when the monagueque closed his mouth around your clit and kissed it, tip of his wet tongue touching your clit as he closed his eyes and groaned, making it very visible to his teammate that your pussy obviously tastes very delicious.

You turned your head only to see the Spaniard watching his teammate eating your pussy, kissing it and licking it, flicking your clit with his eyes closed.

Carlos hand now removing your red blouse, palm squeezing one of your breast. “Does that feel good cariño.” He asked you in a quiet but deep tone, eyes focusing on your cunt that’s currently getting eaten by his teammate.

“Hmm?, already feeling relaxed?” Carlos mouth now gently kissing the back of your neck while he whispered these words.

You closed your eyes, head falling backwards onto Carlos shoulder before you felt how Charles stopped eating you out to slap his palm down onto your pussy, making you jump once again.

“Owwww!” You whined loudly but couldn’t say anything else due's Carlos hand covering your mouth and shooting you a dark gaze.

“Silencio.” Be quiet. Carlos ordered you deeply. Your teary eyes put their gaze back onto Charles infront of you.

“Answer him.” He demanded quietly, thumb now slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions. You swiftly nodded before Carlos removed his palm and let it slide down to your breast again.

“Y-Yes, it feels g-good.”

“I knew it.” Carlos mumbled proudly, one hand now sliding down until it reached your abdomen.

The Spaniard quickly raised his head a bit and looked at his teammate, Charles slowly retreated his hand from your clit and kissed it one last time before he entered your slit with his tongue, both hands now spreading your legs again.

As soon as Charles removed his fingers from your puffy clit, Carlos raised his hand for a brief second to spit on his fingers, lowering them again to spread it all around your clit.

His other hand left your breast and made it’s way down to your pussy, pointer and middle finger spreading your lips do he had better access to your clit and Charles got better access with his tongue to your entrance.

You gasped and chocked your own breaths as Charles are you out with his wet tongue, nose also lightly hitting your clit while Carlos was gently rubbing it with his fingertips, breathing right into your ear.

“Perfecto para nosotros.” So perfect for us. Carlos quietly whispered into your ear, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Tears filled your eyes, making it hard to see, “Oh m-my god.” You whined in a high pitched tone, fingers squeezing Carlos's thighs. “It f-feels so g-good, so-,” you choked on your breath but Carlos 'shh'd' you, trying to calm you down a bit, knowing that you probably feel quiet a lot right now.

“Go on baby, finish what you wanted to say.” Carlos muttered while he glided his nose along your jaw.

“S-So perfect.”

Charles chuckled into your pussy. The vibrating feeling catching you quite off guard as Carlos went a bit faster with his fingers, nose and mouth not leaving your heated skin.

“P-Please!” You whined loudly as Charles went deeper with his tongue and Carlos faster with his fingers. “O-Oh my fucking god, p-please.” You desperately cried out as tears ran down your temple, also covering Carlos’s lips.

Charles moaned into your drenched cunt, fingers having a tight grip onto your thighs as Carlos breathing got a tiny bit heavier, just like yours.

Carlos licked his lips and smiled, “are you gonna cum for us cariño?” He asked you, Charles eyes now watching your glassy ones looking down at him. You nodded wildly,

“y-yes.”

The monagueque started to move his tongue in and out of you, burying it deep inside of you as Carlos’s fingers didn’t slow down. Carlos kissed your cheek one last time while Charles groaned into your pussy again.

“Cum for us baby, just relax and enjoy the feeling, or rather, feelings.” Carlos quickly mumbled into your ear, fingertips still assaulting your wet clit as Charles slowly started to slow down and removed his head.

You exhaled a deep breath, tears not stopping, still covering your entire face as Charles stood up and Carlos fingers stopped.

Charles bit his lip whilst his eyes looked down at yours,

“And now it’s your turn to get onto your knees ma jolie.” my beautiful women.