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#and could have probably just kept going and going
reiderwriter · 2 days
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🧺 Any More 🧺
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.
A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 
You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 
But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 
Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 
You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 
“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 
What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 
You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 
You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 
He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 
You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 
Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 
You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 
“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 
“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 
Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 
“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 
He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 
You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 
“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 
“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 
“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 
“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 
You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 
“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 
“Uncomfortable.” 
“Or at your breakfast bar?” 
“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 
He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 
In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 
Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 
Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 
As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 
Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 
The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 
The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 
When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 
“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 
“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 
“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 
“Spencer, its 2pm.” 
“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 
“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 
He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 
“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 
“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 
You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 
“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 
100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 
After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 
“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 
As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 
“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 
“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 
“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 
“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 
He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 
He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 
“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 
“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 
“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 
“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 
“Laundry?” 
“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 
He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 
“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 
“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 
He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 
“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 
“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 
“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 
Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 
You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 
It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 
The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 
You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 
“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 
You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 
“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 
“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 
“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 
“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 
“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 
You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 
The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 
“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.
“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 
“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 
“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 
“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 
“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 
You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 
“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 
“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 
He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 
When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 
“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 
“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 
“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 
“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 
You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 
“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 
“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 
“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 
Your voice cracked again. 
“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 
“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 
“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 
“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 
“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.
“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 
He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 
“And you deserve a break.” 
“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 
“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 
You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 
“You all had reasons, I-” 
“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 
For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 
So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 
But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 
His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 
“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 
When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 
“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 
A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 
“To me, you are perfect.”
His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 
“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 
“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 
His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 
“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 
His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.
His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 
“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 
“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 
“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 
“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.
“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 
“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 
Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.
The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 
“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 
He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 
You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 
You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 
You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.
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samkerrworshipper · 2 days
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never be the same again.
leah williamson x injured!reader
warnings: injury, knee injuries, angst, hurt/comfort
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You’d never been a player who’d dealt with minor injuries. You never struggled with soreness, or cramps, or little niggles that kept you sidelined every once in a while. When your injuries came, they came full force, full out, full throttle. You figured that it was probably how your body worked, it all got pent up until you suffered a shattering injury.
When you were 16, it had been the complete rupture of all of your lateral ankle ligaments. When you were 19, it had been a compound fracture in your arm caused by a dutch U20’s player putting their studs through your arm. At 22 it had been a torn labrum in your hip.
You figured you were well overdue now at 25, almost 26, having been completely injury free for well over three years, you just hadn’t expected it to be so bad.
It was a normal day, or as normal as a day for you could get.
You’d woken up with sleep in your eyes and your hair splayed out everywhere, in a similar state to your girlfriend laying beside you. Your morning had been peaceful, the two of you simply co existing as you went about your usual routines, the both of you enjoying the normality of it all.
You’d driven the two of you to training, your hands creasing against the leather of the wheel as you navigated your way through North London.
Leah hummed along to whatever R&B radio station she’d tuned into for the morning, without failure she always pretended to be interested in whatever news the hosts would talk about, and without failure would forget all about it by lunch time. You entertained her interest anyways in whatever topic that she chose to trivialise for the morning ride, enjoying the way that Leah could talk so passionately about something as mundane as random news.
When you arrived at London Colney the two of you both went separate ways, Leah needing a little bit more of a intensive rehab from the physios after a game weekend. So she walked off in search of the ohysio room, whereas you headed straight towards the gym, knowing that all you needed on a normal day was a bit of a stretch out to get everything feeling activated.
Kyra and Lessi were both in the gym as you walked in, the two slightly younger players tolling out on the mats. You joined them, commenting here and there on whatever they were saying as your other teammates slowly trailed in from the physios or their cars.
Just as you were heading towards the weights, Leah walked in, her body automatically walking to find you, there was no need for the two of you to discuss spotting partners, it was a unspoken rule that the two of you always went together.
You weren’t sure if it was because of the natural competition that was created from the two of you playing opposing positions, or if it was just the competitive nature of your relationship, but Leah and you just pushed each other ten times harder. She had the guts to tell you when you needed to pusb more, when you could do better, and also when you needed to slow down. It was a balance between the two of you, of knowing how far to push the other, but also where the line was.
The two of you alternated with your sets, until you’d both worked through your programs and were ready to head out to the pitch.
You didn’t really get anxiety, but as soon as Leah and yourself walked towards the locker room, in search of your boots and training gear, you got a feeling inside of your stomach that you couldn’t shake. You’d played in champions league semi-finals, euro finals, world cup finals, and never had a single bit of anxiety, but as you fished your boots from your locker and laced them up you just couldn’t shake it.
You figured you were just coming down with something, the flu was going around, you were probably just becoming under the weather. You ignored the way that it spread across the surface of your chest, like there were sets of suction cups all over your stomach and chest.
It was probably nothing, it was most likely nothing.
You kept telling yourself that as Leah grabbed you by the shoulder and walked you out towards the field with the rest of the group, there wasn’t anything different about the day that would make you feel this way, so why should you worry about it.
Training started with normal warm ups, as it always did. The squad darting in and around polea and cones, dribbling through them, and no matter how far you dug yourself into the normality of the routine you were going through, you just couldn’t shake it.
As time went past it got more complex, your group working on shooting whilst the defenders worked off on a pitch to the side and the goalkeepers tried to keep your balls from sailing past them.
It was your bread and butter, the most basic of things you could do, yet it all felt wrong.
Somehow, it felt like you were disconnected from your own body, like you were somehow watching your life from your own perspective.
You continued on, you were probably just getting sick. It wasn’t a often occurrence for you, but when you did it was always bad.
You kept telling yourself that as you transitioned from practice drills to game scenarios. Lia was injured, and Kim was sitting out due to some hamstring soreness, which left you as the main midfielder, not a unwelcome spot but not exactly normal either. You alternated between the attacking mid and a striker/center forward, never really in the defensive side of the midfield though.
With Leah yelling at you from behind and your eyes focusing on Stina and Caitlin in front of you.
With Lotte and Steph as the opposing defence it was hard to know how and where to get to be able to slot the ball into a good position for your attackers.
It’s a lot, the feeling inside of you, everything happening around you.
You don’t normally crack under pressure, and this is probably the least pressured environment you’ve played in your whole entire life, but it feels like for the first time that you just can’t focus.
Leah’s yelling, Jonas is yelling, Stina is yelling, and even though the ball isn’t even at your feet it feels like they’re all yelling at you.
You don’t even have the ball at your feet, yet.
Yet when you push, chasing the ball that Lotte had sent at you down the wing, you twist, and rotate.
All you feel is pain, possibly the worst pain you’ve ever felt.
It feels like you’re lef has been hit by a lighting bolt, and you seriously consider that maybe it had been.
You know though, you’ve seen it happen so many times that you would be a fool to not know what this is. You’re pressed face down on the grass, unmoving, just trying to take it in.
The scent of freshly clipped grass and mud floods your senses. A hand sets itself down on your shoulder and you know your done, that this isn’t some sick dream, you are well and truly fucked.
As if your knee still radiating the worst pain you’ve ever experienced isn’t enough.
“Someone get the physios.”
You hear it yelled out about a hundred times, although none of it really gets absorbed in your brain, you’re in to much pain to think, let alone really absorb the magnitude of what that means.
“Hey mate, we’re going to turn you over okay.”
It’s Caitlin, the anxiety in her voice isn’t missed by you, your aussie teammates hands settling on your shoulders and gently, but quickly, flipping you over.
The sky is grey, and a little bit too bright.
You can’t speak, out of fear that you’ll start sobbing if you do, you don’t want to cry, even if it feels like your leg is actively being chopped off.
You keep your eyes clamped shut, unable to look at the faces of your peers that have crowded above you.
“Babe, talk to me, what’s wrong?”
You keep your mouth clamped shut, you can’t deal with Leah. She’s just gotten over her injury properly, she’s recovered, and yet here you are, in the same position she was just over a year ago.
“Everybody clear away, give her some space. For fucks sakes, somebody go find Rose or Gary.”
At the sound of your captains scottish voice, the crowd slowly started to breakaway, the sound of boots scuffing against the grass beside you slowly petering off.
You kept your eyes screwed shut, for your own safety.
You can’t move your leg, you try to wiggle your toes but even the attempt at getting your nerves to stimulate puts you in a whole other world of pain.
It’s too much pain.
So much pain.
Worse than you could have imagined.
“Babe, I need you to talk to me, what hurts?”
Leah’s voice, Leah’s slightly stressed voice.
“My knee, my fucking knee.”
The air that hits your lungs is cold as your mouth opens to reiterate what you’re going through. It forces you to breathe, to take a big deep breath and inhale.
You pull the neck of your singlet to your mouth within seconds, biting down on the material to stop any of the sounds of pain escaping.
You open your eyes, and you see the fear on Leah’s face, she knows, just as well as you know, exactly what is going on.
Just as she looks like she’s about to say more, the doctor and the physio crouch down beside you.
“Knee?”
All you did was nod your head, trying your very hardest to not start actually sobbing, even though there were tears dripping down your face.
“Alright, can you wiggle your toes for me?”
You tried your very hardest to try and move your foot, even just a centimetre, but you just couldn’t.
The doctor seemed to notice your aggravation, and shook his head.
“Alright, we’re going to get your leg stabilised and then get you onto the stretcher. We’ll assess in the locker room.”
You couldn’t do anything but keep your head on the grass, pointed at the sky, avoiding everything and anything that came into your line of sight.
You knew it was bad when they tried to push a board underneath your leg and even just that movement hurt more than anything.
You immediately cried out, the t-shirt in your mouth doing absolutely nothing to silence the pure pain that you were expressing.
Everyone around you cringed, normally, acls didn’t hurt this much after a couple of minutes, the initial pain was horrific, but it faded. For you, nothing was fading, and with every passing second it felt like you were closer to losing consciousness due to the sheer amount of agony that was coming from your leg.
The doctors tried to be as quick about it as they could, but it didn’t stop you from screaming as they slid the board completely under your leg and strapped different parts of your leg to the board to keep it still.
You wished you were dead.
Whatever this was, you would rather be dead.
“Alright, we’re going to get you onto the stretcher now, keep going with the deep breaths, we’ll find you some pain relief once we’re inside.”
You nodded your head, you just needed it to be over.
You felt a few people grab different parts of your body, lifting you up before gently setting you down inside of the orange plastic.
They left your knee last, at least three people working to try and lift it into the stretcher, it all hurt though.
You screamed, and you screamed, and you screamed again.
You wouldn’t be surprised if the bloody king could hear you considering how loud you were.
You kept repeating the same word.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
You just needed it all to stop.
Please, lord, let it all stop.
When you were still in the stretcher, they began to lift you up, six different people taking hold of the stretcher and beginning to walk you back inside.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of Leah, who looked so horrified and mortified that it almost hurt as much as the pain in your knee.
“Lee, make it stop, please, make it stop.”
The pain wasn’t fading, it was everywhere, all over, covering every inch of your body.
“Baby, just take some deep breaths, it’s going to be okay, everything’s going to be alright.”
Even Leah didn’t seem like she believed her own words, she was trying her hardest but you could tell that even she was so unsure about what was happening.
“Leah, please, make it stop.”
Leah looked like she was lost, like she had sbolutely no idea what to do.
“I will baby, I promise, we’re almost inside.”
You shook your head, god you had no words for what this was.
The tears just kept flowing, your vision being clouded by the salty drops that had nowhere to go besides pooling in your eyes.
You were done, whatever this was, you were done, there was no coming back from this.
You closed your eyes again, trying to sink into your own head, trying to make it all disappear.
It worked for a few seconds, before you were jolted in the stretcher as you were brought inside, the pain resettling across your body.
You get placed on top of one of the physio beds, Leah and Kim helping to lift you out of the stretcher and onto the bed, even as you cried and thrashed, begging for it to stop.
For the first time, you got a proper look at your knee, and from the second you laid eyes on it you knee it was bad, your whole knee was swollen up like a balloon and there was a bump just below your knee cap, where all the pain was coming from.
The doctor got to work quickly, sending everybody else out of the room besides the physios as he began to remove your leg from the board and access it.
Somewhere along the way, one of the physios found a green whistle, shoving it into your hands and allowing you to have a smidge of relief as your leg was poked and prodded.
For the most part, it was silent, no noise besides the sound of your tears dripping down your face and the doctor typing up his reports onto his laptop after every test he conducted.
They left your knee on the table, your right lower extremity looking deflated as the doctor turned to finish typing up whatever report he was making.
“I can bring your girlfriend back in, if you’d like?”
You turned to the physio, rose, who looked as deflated as you knee did.
You weren’t really sure if you were ready to face Leah.
“Yes, please.”
Rose nodded and smiled, turning around to walk towards the door, opening it up and allowing Leah to walk in.
She stayed silent, walking over to take the seat beside you, her hand immediately finding yours.
She squeezed, and for a second you thought that maybe it was going to be fine, but then that second passed.
The doctor turned around to face both of you and you just knew, you knew that he was about to ruin your life.
“I’ve just called the surgeon, we’re going to need to get you in for scans and surgery tomorrow. You’ve ruptured your patellar tendon and it looks like you’ve also ruptured your meniscus and acl, I’m sorry.”
All of the oxygen in your lungs had been sucked out, you couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t speak.
You were done, tearing an acl was bad, tearing a meniscus was bad, tearing your patellar tendon was horrible.
Doing them all together, it was pretty much unheard of.
“It’s not a confirmed diagnosis, we’ll need scans but your at risk of dislocating your knee or worse if your patellar is torn, so we need to be urgent about this. How does scans at 8am tomorrow sound, and if it comes back torn then surgery around 12?”
God, this was so much worse than you could have ever imagined.
“Sounds good, thank you doctor.”
Leah’s voice said what it needed, a silent dismissal that you both needed your time.
The doctor smiled and nodded at Leah, before taking his leave, leaving just Leah and you sitting in the room by yourselves.
“Bubba, it’s going to be okay, we’ll figure this out.”
Your career was over, short lived and over.
“Leah, get out.”
You needed a minute, you needed your brain to kick into gear so you could begin to understand this.
“Babe, I did it, Beth did it, Viv did it, Laura did it, you’re going to be fine, we’re going to be fine.”
You shook your head.
“Leah, get the fuck out.”
Your voice was croaky, but you managed to get it to the level of a yell.
Leah’s hand slid out from your own.
“I’m sorry babe, I’m sorry about this, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head.
“Leah, get out.”
She looked like she was at a mental crossroads, trying to figure out whether she should leave or not, ultimately she made rhe decision to nod her head, walking towards the door, stopping when her hand connected with the handle of the doorknob to send a sad smile your way.
“I’m going to go get our stuff together, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
A couple of minutes, that should be enough, right?
The door closed behind Leah and you felt a whole different weight set itself down on your chest.
What were you supposed to do?
Your leg, your knee, was literally folding in on you, everything was over.
You were a starter, a co-captain, for both national and club teams, you weren’t the best, but you were up there, you were one of the best attacking midfielders in the world, and yet now, you were nothing.
You didn’t have anything besides football, football was your life, you’d given up everything for football, yet now, it felt like it was being pulled out from underneath you.
You didn’t know how you were going to survive this.
7 months later
You were being stupid.
You’d been told from the very minute you’d gone into recovery that you weren’t going to play again, simply, your knee wouldn’t ever be able to handle that kind of pressure again.
You didn’t think that you could prove your doctors wrong, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to try, you had nothing else to lose.
Leah hadn’t wanted to be an accomplice in your plan, in fact, she’d been quite the opposite, yelling at you as soon as you’d brought the idea up.
You’d lost a lot during your rehab, everything had changed, what you hadn’t lost though, was your ability to manipulate those blue eyes into doing whatever you wanted.
That’s how Leah and yourself had ended up here, the two of you standing on the grass of a local pitch, a ball at your feet.
For the first few months, you’d refused completely to go anywhere near a ball, knowing that football had done this to you.
As the seasons changed though and your life slowly started to come into perspective you changed, your body changed, everything around you changed.
Your life was different, but it wasn’t over. You still had things, you still had something to live for.
Leah looked about as unamused as you thought, you’d dragged her out of the house for your usual evening walk, funnily enough she didn’t even realise the change in route until you found yourselves out the front of the park.
It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing, or less than you’d thought.
You’d been shooting on your own for a couple of weeks, short range, no movement besides the motion. You’d started jogging a month ago, which was about as good as your recovery was going to get.
“C’mon, defend me properly.”
Leah looked at unease, the Euro’s were due to start in a couple of weeks and your fiance was ready to lead the reigning champs to hopefully another win, hopefully.
Leah took a step towards you, still keeping a few feet distance.
“I’m defending you, can you just take a shot so we can leave?”
Leah had been patient, a lot more patient then you’d been during her rehab, she’d dealt with all your dramatics, all the shit you’d put her through.
“Leah, c’mon, defend me properly, I’m not going to collapse.”
Leah looked at you like you were stupid.
She did take a step closer though, her toe pushing the ball towards yours.
“Put a ball past me, put a ball past the best centre-back in the world, go ahead.”
One of the best, you’d been one of the best once upon a time as well.
You looked down at the ball, beginning to dribble it a few steps forward, Leah followed, as you got to the top of the goal square, you knew you needed to cross it over from your right to your left, from your bad leg to your good one.
Knees were stupid.
You managed to cross the ball, but as you lunged off of your bad leg, it all went downhill.
You were on the ground in seconds, your body collapsing.
It wasn’t the same, you kept telling yourself that, that it wasn’t the same pain, it wasn’t the same agony.
Leah’s hands were on you immediately, rolling you over so that you were looking at each other.
“You just had to be a fucking idiot, what hurts, where does it hurt?”
You forced yourself to take a deep breath, before you started laughing.
Leah looked like she was going to strangle you.
“I’m okay Le, just stupid, okay, stupid that I thought that somehow it would all fucking click and that it would all somehow be fine.”
Leah’s face fell, and she collapsed down onto the ground besides you, one of her arms wrapping around your shoulder, bringing you closer to her.
“It sucks, but you need to come to terms with it baby, you have so many options, commentating, journalism, working with the team. I know it’s the end of your dream, and it fucking sucks, but it’s not worth hurting yourself more in the process. You’re my idiot, and I love you, but you need to find something else.”
You hated that you were being forced to find something else, that it wasn’t your choice, it had all just…. happened.
“I know.”
Leah nodded.
“C’mon, let’s get you home.”
2 years later
“Y/n, you’ve got the best perspective on this, what do you think it means for Arsenal to win the league like this?”
You’d watched your wife, win the league, win the triple this year, from the sidelines.
Commentating, reporting, it was all fun, but it wasn’t the same, if anything it was a stab in the heart.
“Well as everyone knows, as a Arsenal homegrown girl, this has been a long time coming, and I couldn’t be more proud of the girls, they’ve had a season of all seasons, I don’t think it could have been a better year for them.”
You looked backwards, at your wife, as the team stood on the stage ready to lift the trophy.
With every bone in your body you wished you were with them, but you couldn’t be.
“And to their captain, what do you think this means?”
You looked at Leah, how happy she looked.
“Well, considering Leah and I have been the same amount of time, put in all of the years and sweat and tears I can’t imagine that this couldn’t be the pinnacle of her career. It’s great to win things with country, but this is fulfillment, winning something like the league is something else because it means that all of the hardwork over a season is done, and you get to relax.”
You struggled to keep the tears at bay.
You wished you could know the true feeling, coaching, commentating, it didn’t do the same, it didn’t have the same kind of meaning behind it.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go and celebrate with my wife. This is y/n williamson signing off, I’ll see you next season.”
You pulled out your in ear and put your microphone back down on the stand, turning around and beginning to walk onto the pitch.
Leah caught your eyes quickly, it wasn’t hard considering the arsenal red suit you were wearing, and the slight staggered limp that you held as you walked towards her.
Leah smiled at you, big and bright.
Your lives weren’t over, in fact they were just beginning.
She hnaded the trophy over to Lia, before walking your way, running towards you and bringing you into her arms immediately.
“There’s my lucky charms.”
She looked down at your stomach and you couldn’t help but slap her.
It was your best kept secret, your career had been ended by your knee, but you’d chosen to start a new life, a better one.
“We wouldn’t have gotten here without you baby, off and on the pitch.”
You kept your blush to a minimum, unable to ignore the fact that the pinkness was rising up your neck.
“Alright softy, go and celebrate with the team, I’ll be here watching.”
Leah pouted, but nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead before beginning to walk off.
Life wasn’t the same and it wasn’t how you wanted it, but it wasn’t over.
————————————
ngl i hate the end of this but we move
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covetyou · 3 days
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (satisfyer "glowing ghost"), unprotected P in V, creampie, oral (f receiving), reader loves floor time (so does Joel), angst (but we fix it), some anxiety/depression adjacent things. word count: 5751 summary: As spring moves into summer, the only thing you're wishing for is to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on. But, by the time the end of May is on the horizon, the time between still isn't enough - You haven't forgotten, and you haven't moved on.
A/N: thank you to everyone still sticking with this sporadic-installment-series-that-was-never-meant-to-be-a-series. our next visit to these two will be 4th July in stars and stripes, but until then, enjoy 💛
(and yes I know I am technically later than planned with this for non Americas folk - I couldn't get the ending to my liking until suddenly I could, and now its gone midnight. whoops!)
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If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, it was safe to say the opposite was true too.
You weren't having fun, and time was well and truly crawling by at a snails pace.
That wasn't for lack of trying. In recent weeks you'd spent more time out of the house than you ever had - lunch with friends, drinks with colleagues, solo trips to bookstores and farmers markets. There was barely a moment of time you hadn't filled with something.
It was probably a shitty coping mechanism, all things considered, but it was the best you had. You couldn't quite bring yourself to confide in anyone your secret shame of letting a stranger into your house and touch you like he belonged there. The even bigger shame of living in a place for so very long and not knowing how the door worked, not knowing the stranger was your neighbor, being so very consumed in your own life - woe is you - that you didn't bother paying attention to the lives of the people around you. So, you kept on willing the passage of time, and filling every moment you could with distractions.
It wasn't that you were usually one for wishing time away. A slow, warm spring before the blazing heat of summer consumed everything would usually be a good thing - even better now that you'd lived and experienced your first Texas summer and were soon to have your second.
What you were really wishing for was to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on.
As it was, by the time the end of May was on the horizon, the time between still wasn't enough. Almost two months to the day, and it still ached and burned in you just as much as it always had, if not more. The embarrassment and shame of not knowing how to work a fucking lock was one thing, the fear of the danger you'd put yourself in was another. Then there was the sadness, the loss, the unexpected emptiness at losing something you weren't even sure you had to begin with. And then, in more recent weeks, was the longing.
And you didn't want to feel any of it.
When Memorial Day Weekend eventually rolls around, the blossoming heat of summer keeping you indoors, you lie there on your living room floor, a fan blowing not quite cool enough air across your sweaty body until a knock at the door disturbs the patterns your eyes were tracing on the ceiling.
The dimness in your vision doesn't go away, even as you blink away the dust and try to get your eyes to adjust. The sun had set, apparently. It wasn't completely dark just yet, but dark enough to cast the lower level of your home in shadow, and you hadn't even noticed. You technically had plans today - plans that had now gone to shit, much like everything else.
Hauling yourself from the ground, you unlock your door, no thought or care of who could be on the other side of it, because one thing was certain - it wouldn't be Joel. You'd lost hope of that weeks ago. Each time you opened it with a fools hope in your mind, you were instead handed a delivery and told to have a good day as you stared out into the street, disappointed that it was only a clitty-blaster-3000, or a new blender, and not Joel.
You mindlessly pull open the door, expecting to be handed a package you hadn't ordered, or to even see a friendly face coming to pull you out for plans you agreed to but didn't really want to do.
But there he is. Two months later - but not too late, you don't think - and entirely out of the blue. Nervous hands are thrust into his pockets with his thumbs twitching on the outside of his jeans, standing there like he didn't belong here at all, when everything in your body was screaming he's home.
This was far from the first time you'd seen him since March. The first time was barely three days after you pushed him away. April Fools' Day, of all days. Fitting, you thought, given how much of a fucking fool you felt whenever you remembered everything you'd done, and said, and felt. It turns out he was the owner of the truck you'd seen parked in a drive a little way down the street, father to the little girl you'd seen bounding out of that house so many times before. Neither thing made the hurt in your chest any less, and you'd driven past with a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes.
The same happens now, but you fight them back so you can see more clearly as his mouth twitches into a small smile, making you freeze on the spot. Your mind was already blank, but that freezes too, and you stare at him dumbstruck for a moment so long you're certain a flicker of concern dances across his eyes.
And you could close the door in his face, push him out and away just like you did on that day over two months ago, but you don't. As you come back around, finally letting your brain reconnect with the rest of your body, the only thing you can feel is relief and total utter joy at getting to see him up close again.
There's still shame too. That's been simmering low and mellow in you for so long now that it's fused with your bones - you're not sure you'll ever shake it - but it's the least important thing right now as you stand and look at him, more awkward and uncertain than you've ever seen him.
"Hi."
You're surprised it's you who speaks first, given how dry your mouth is all of a sudden, seeing him up close again and looking as good as, if not better, than he ever has.
"Hey," he says, before clearing his throat. "S'good to see you."
It's a voice you didn't want to forget, but apparently damn near almost had, given the way your body reacts to it. Deep and rumbling, with the slow southern drawl trickling down your spine like honey and settling between your thighs - though in all honesty that might just be sweat. It really is hot in here, worse now that you're standing, and the fan is doing absolutely nothing to help. You look a mess too - your hair, your clothes, your life - but he doesn't seem to mind, and you're grateful, because right now this is as good as you've got.
"Wanted to see how you were doin'. Figured we should talk," he says with another soft smile.
Stepping aside, you give him a small nod as you silently invite him into your home for the first time. Which should be funny, given the unknown number of times he's been through this door, but you're not ready to laugh about any of it just yet.
When the door closes behind him, it's soft and gentle, barely audible over the fan blasting warm air at you, and you wonder if it's always like that. If he's always quiet as a mouse, and you always too oblivious to notice - between the two of you, you didn't stand a hope in hell in figuring it all out until it was too late and blew up in your face. Now, here you are, egg on your face, the heat in the room not helping the heat in your cheeks, trying desperately not to send him away when you've just invited him in.
It would be easier if it all still felt like a dream, but it didn't. That had changed.
Joel had never been much of a normal man in your mind. He was more of a fantasy come to life. A fantasy that was slowly building into something more and more real with each encounter. Even now, stood in normal shoes, wearing a normal t-shirt, and even more normal jeans - just Some Guy by anybodies standard - he looks as beautiful and fantastic as ever.
"Wanted to talk to you sooner. Wanted to leave it up to you given - y'know. Everythin'. Didn't want you to think I was just bargin' in all the time when it was convenient for me," he says, this very normal man already making you feel both silly and elated that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. Obviously you could have gone to him first. You just couldn't do it. You almost had so many times, but the twist of your key in the door would twist something in the pit of your stomach too, and you'd stop before you even made it out the house.
You knew why. It was always the same thing. You didn't want to talk - not ever. You just wanted things to be okay, or not, and go on with your life. It was one of those childish things you had your mom to thank for - she wasn't great at talking about the important thing either.
The difference now was Joel. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to work out everything with him rather than alone in your head. But prior to the door incident, that wasn't what this was and after - well, fuck - after, it seemed that it could have been like that all along but you were too damn late to do anything about it.
"Know you were angry with me - maybe still are - and I -"
"I wasn't angry with you," you blurt out, already aware of the lie the moment it leaves your lips. Joel is too, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "Okay. Yes. It pissed me off - you pissed me off. Happy?"
"No. Never wanted to piss you off, darlin'," he murmurs in return, and you can see that he means it by the way all of him softens, drooping in defeat at your admission.
"I... You embarrassed me, Joel. I feel embarrassed, okay? I feel like a stupid idiot, and I -"
You can already feel it all coming back. The swirling in your head, and the heat creeping up your chest and down your arms, not helped by this sweltering fucking house. It's like fainting, but instead of blacking out, a white hot rage is ready to ignite in you. And of everything, it's the thing you most never want to feel again. You'd take all the sadness, loss, emptiness, and longing of the last two months a million times over if it means you never have to feel this again.
" - and it makes me angry. And I hate feeling like that, like this, and I just couldn't come talk to you because I feel so stupid."
"Woah, darlin', c'mon now, we both know you ain't stupid."
"I don't know how to work a fucking door, Joel. Do you know how long people have had doors?"
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes before starting up again, hoping Joel will take the lead and talk for you first, but he doesn't.
"And I thought we were on the same page. That we were both doing the same silly thing, and it was okay that it was silly and fun, because we were both in on the joke. And... I liked seeing you. I liked it when you were here and it just - it just feels like it was a lie, and what I got out of it isn't what you got out of it. And that's okay, but it still feels stupid. I feel like an idiot, and an asshole, and knowing that you knew so much more about me than I knew about you, I just-"
"Do you want to?" he asks. "Do you wanna get to know me? Just gotta say, and it's done. I want you to know about me - I never meant to hide anythin' from you like that. And I don't want you to be mad, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed, cause the way I see it, we both got shit to be embarrassed about. I was breakin' into your house for months, thinkin' I was invited."
You wince a little, and he just smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders that what's done is done, nonchalance easing your anxiety for the first time ever rather than making it worse.
"I used to stand out there in front of your door and talk to your doorbell like you'd talk back to me any minute," Joel says with a laugh. "Course, now I get that you probably ain't got it hooked up. Never did hear the fuckin' thing ring."
Fuck. Right. Yeah, he's got you there. You'd bought it when you moved in, at your mom's insistence, and never got around to connecting it to anything. You figured it just being there would be deterrent enough and, other than visits from Joel, it had been.
He laughs again at your poorly masked grimace, and any other time you'd maybe be infuriated by him finding humor in something you'd been hurting over for weeks. It's not until you meet his eye and see the silliness in it all too - neither of you really did have any hope.
"Right? It's dumb. Not you, not me, it's just dumb. I even used to tell you when I'd be over next, let you know when to expect me. Leave out a key or put the door on the latch if it's okay for me to come by. I thought I was bein' invited in, but I was breakin' in. Shit. You're embarrassed, and I'm a criminal, I guess we're both losers."
Any anger you had is gone in a flash as laughter ripples through your belly and out your throat. In a way, it's all true. Joel was just as fucked as you, had just as much to be embarrassed and fearful about as you. Unknowingly leaving your home vulnerable to intruders is one thing, but being an accidental criminal for months is another.
"I liked it. I... I never knew when you were coming."
"Hey, if that's what gets your rocks off," he says with a wink, and you laugh again. "I ain't one to judge, but we can explore that in safer ways than keepin' a door unlocked day and night."
You both realize what he said the second the word left his lips.
We.
As in us.
As in together.
And you think he might take it back as quick as he said it, but he doesn't. He just looks at you, half fearful that he said the wrong thing, half hopeful that he said the right thing.
"Okay."
With one word he brightens, and you can feel it in you too. Whatever it is is mutual. Has been since the red velvet coat, since the wings, since the bunny ears, and all the spaces in between.
"Yeah? Cause I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."
"Well, that sounds like a terrible idea," you say bluntly, because honestly you cannot think of anything worse. Joel's slow steps towards you falter for a second as he tries not to let the disappointment in his face show, but you're already smiling. "You can pry Santa, Cupid, and Flopsy from my cold, dead hands."
And his laugh is glorious, cracking open the remnants of the walls you'd put around yourself and letting your bones soak in the warmth of him, just as his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. He smells so familiar - that's one thing you know about him. You might not know about his favorite color, or what he likes to eat, or even his daughters name just yet. But you know what he smells like, how his smile lights up his eyes, and how his hands feel on you, anchoring you in place even as you send yourself dizzy breathing him in.
He's going to kiss you too. You know that, and you welcome it, but before he can, you pull back.
"There's so much I want to know, I don't know how I missed so much."
"You get one question before I'm kissin' you."
You think for just a second before looking down to where your fingers curl into his shirt - an old Fleetwood Mac tee, so washed and worn it's like butter beneath your fingers.
With a wry smile, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, unable to hold back the laughter in your voice. "What are you dressed as today? Don't think I know this one, you're usually on theme."
"This? I'm just your plain ol' friendly neighborhood Joel Miller."
His lips are on yours then, pressing a soft kiss into the curve of your mouth, eyes searching yours for one, two, three seconds, before he dives back in, kissing you in earnest, making up for all the in betweens you'd been wishing away.
You wrap yourself around him, clinging to him, damn near wanting to climb up him, as you make out like teenagers in the middle of your living room. His hands wander across your shoulders, down your spine, grasping at any softness he can find along the way until his hands settle - one on your ass, and one gently cupping the back of your neck.
And as you kiss, holding each other close like you were long lost lovers and not whatever this thing between you was, you can't help but think that Joel Miller may just be your favorite Joel yet.
"Now, I got a question for you," he mumbles into your mouth, each word chased by your kisses. You've never wanted to seem desperate before, but right now you don't care, and by the way he's holding you, Joel doesn't mind either.
"Why the fuck do you have a nightlight?"
Shooting him an inquisitive look, you follow his gaze over your shoulder.
There on your counter, little light blinking away, is your very own clitty-blaster-3000, a luminous ghost with its mouth set in a permanent O, glowing brightly in the darkness. Shit. You'd brought it down this morning to charge, needing to keep a watchful eye on it and its janky magnetic charger to make sure it charged fully. You'd totally forgotten about it, and now here it was, glowing like a beacon after being out in the sun all day.
You try to pull away from Joel, but with his arms locked around your body, and his mouth pressing soft whiskered kisses to your neck, you don't have the strength, or the inclination, to move.
"It's not a nightlight, I can go put it away, if you just gimme-"
He tucks you behind him, swatting away your arms as you feebly try to reach around and grab it from him. Truthfully, you quite like the idea of him holding it, using it, but you feel bad that he might not know what it is.
"Not a nightlight, huh?" He says, grabbing the toy from the counter, said charger immediately popping off and clattering to the ground. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands, bringing it so close to his face it casts shadows across his features with its glow. "Oh, I know what this is."
"What is it then, smartass."
"Other than Pac-Man's worst nightmare? It's one of them clitty-blaster-3000 things."
Eyes wide, you double over, cackling and holding desperately onto yourself so you don't totally fall apart in front of him. He laughs with you, though maybe it's a little bit at you too, but you don't mind.
"What?!" he says smiling as he watches you fight to right yourself, gripping his forearm with laugh weakened fingers.
"That's what I call it!"
"Yeah? It good?"
His eyes are burning into yours. You know where this is going, and there's a brief thought that maybe you should stop it, slow things down. But you don't. Instead, you bite your lip and nod, making a noise of confirmation as Joel fiddles with the buttons on the toy.
A second later, it whirrs to life, a gentle throbbing buzz meeting your ears.
Joel puts his thumb over the hole, the suction gently hammering away at his finger tip as he clicks up and up through the intensity until he's well past a level you can use it at.
"Shit, yeah. Can see how that'd feel good."
"I, uhm, like to tease myself with it."
"Yeah?" he says as it clicks back down through the settings and rests on the softest one again. "Is that how you use it? Just to tease yourself?"
"No," you say, gasping a little when he raises the toy to your neck, pressing the mouth of the ghost to you as if pressing a kiss to your skin. "I - I just kinda stick it on there, to be honest. But I go slow with the - with the settings."
Joel clicks up one setting, the gentle thrumming at your neck intensifying a little.
"Yeah? You take your time? Give her what she deserves?"
You forgot what this was like - how easy and good it was to give in to wanting him, and how easy it was to let yourself have him too.
"Mhm."
"Good. Can't say I ain't jealous though. Missed comin' here. Seein' you. Thought about you, thought about comin' to see you but -"
"Thought about you too."
"When you were usin' this?"
You nod, tilting your head to the side and sighing as he glides the tip of the toy across your pulse point, behind your ear, down the column of your throat.
"Can I use it on you?"
You damn near want to tell him he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but the words are lost when you nod again and he captures your mouth in another kiss, brutal in its softness as he guides you back to your couch and all the plush cushions you have stacked there. Since Christmas, your home décor skills have definitely improved. Things look a little less bare, the place looks a little more lived in. There's still pictures to hang and empty spaces on shelves to fill, but you know those things will come in time. For now, you're grateful for the comfy place you've made on your sofa as Joel sits you down, guiding you down with strong hands.
Your shorts are quickly pulled off, the toy pulled from your neck so Joel can kiss his own better trail across your flesh. You hold him to you, anchor him into your bosom like he might drift off like a spectre in the night if you don't, but he's as latched to you as you are to him.
And then he's on his knees for you, jeans straining as his cock swells, hands gripping your thighs then pushing your shirt up, exposing you for him. Panties soon follow your shorts, yanked down your legs in a joint effort by your left hand and his right as he can't resist lapping at your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.
He's everything you tried to forget, and some of the things you did. He's strong, and broad. He's gentle too, and soft - his eyes, mostly, but some other parts of him too. He's silly, and playful, smiling into your mouth and nipping at you, the hand by your thigh teasing the buzzing toy over the delicate skin there and delighting in your shudder.
As he moves it closer, the sounds of the suction against your skin making you both giggle, he moves down, burying his face into your neck and breathing in. You already know that it's never been like this before - that this is something new, just like every other time before had been something new.
"So you just stick it on, huh?"
"Lube. With lube."
His face is between your legs in an instant, licking messily around your clit, not really trying to get you off, just aiming to get you wet. When he pulls back, toy in hand, he raises the glowing toy mouth to his own and licks, smiling at the sound of it suctioning to his tongue.
"That good enough?"
And you nod, giving in to his kisses again before he breathlessly spreads you apart with both hands, looking at your cunt like if he blinks it'll all fade away.
"You know I ain't seen this for three months?"
"You been counting?"
"I missed you," he repeats with a breathless kiss to your thigh. "Missed this."
He lights his way with the glow of the toy rumbling in his hand, pulling back your clit for just one second, barely holding in a groan, before he gently holds the mouth of the ghost to you, pressing until the obscene slurp is muffled by full suction on your clit.
And it's divine, just like it always is, but somehow made even better by the man doing it to you. Fascinated eyes don't stop watching as it hammers air lightly at your clit in a constant rhythm, and the sight alone makes you drip. You're grateful for the heat now, and the sheet you'd covered your velvet sofa with, saving you an undoubtedly messy clean up later.
The toy slips when Joel climbs back off his knees to press his mouth to yours, and the air splutters and ripples past your skin again, as Joel laughs into your mouth.
"The sound of this thing, jesus fuckin' christ. Sounds like you're -"
"Don't. Don't make me laugh, you'll distract me."
"I like it when you laugh," but he's already pressing it flush to your skin again, stopping the sound and sending the ripples directly back to your clit.
"Ohh, f- "
"That's it," he says, watching as your hips rock ever so slightly into the throbbing toy sucking away on your clit. "Fuck, that's it. Lettin' me get you off with this thing."
"Think I can get some fingers in and keep this right where you need it?"
"Mm."
"Yeah?" he says, swiping at your entrance with his middle fingers, carefully holding the toy in place with his palm. "Just like that. There we go. Right in there. Fuck, I missed this. Missed bein' in here."
"Fuck."
"That's it. You come on 'em. Wanna feel it."
"Joel, down. Move it down. Ple- ah."
"There?"
"Right there," you sigh, panting and barely making it through the words before your eyes snap shut.
And then Joel is in your ear, his breath fanning against you, cooling you for a second even as his fingers stoke the fire raging in your core.
"You're fuckin' beautiful," he murmurs, and you just know he's looking down at you, the picture of a perfect mess. A sheen of sweat on your skin, lips swollen and parted as you gasp, thighs spread wide, hips rocking into Joel's illuminated palm, t-shirt rucked high over your hips, hands on your tits, nipples pinched between your own fingers, moaning, panting, coming.
You twitch in his arms, burying your head in his neck and breathing deep. Something about the position you're in can keep it going longer, can keep that thrumming pressure on your clit right where it is, past your usual limit, dragging your orgasm on and on until you're gasping Joel's name.
He gingerly pulls the glowing toy off of you - its brightness dimmed only slightly since you lost sight of it between your legs - fiddling with buttons until he gives in and throws it to the side to run his hands over you.
With a light kisses to your parted lips, he apologizes, giving you softly muttered sorrys for ever upsetting you, for taking so long to come talk to you, and before you can return the sentiment, he sends you laughing again.
"And I'm sorry for breakin' into your house. Accidentally."
Your laughter makes him shift, and his face contorts as he gasps in discomfort.
"Fuckin' jeans. Pinchin'," is all he says, as he tries to adjust himself. You can see his zipper strain with the weight of his cock, stiff and unattended, behind the thick fabric.
"Take 'em off."
"Came here for you, not me."
"And if I want you to come for me?"
Joel blinks.
"Then I'm takin' my damn pants off," he says, taking his pants off. He sighs in relief when the pressure on his cock is released, groans when your hand palms him over the damp fabric, gasps into your mouth when you slip your fingers beneath his waistband, finding his cock slick and wet with precum, curses into your hair when you lick the salty taste of him from your fingers.
Tugging his boxers down a little more, his cock springs free, slapping his wet tip against his belly. In a blink you're on him, pulling off his shirt as you go to suck wet kisses into his neck, his chest, and letting your fingers toy with his nipples and the other feel down past his boxers, cupping his balls and rolling your thumb across the sensitive flesh before he pushes up into you.
He's solid. You're surprised he didn't come in his pants with how firm he feels slipping against your cunt. You meet his thrust, grinding down into his solid length, trying to hold your own shirt up so you can see the tip of his cock as he ruts against you.
"Does that feel good?"
"Fu - yeah. Y'always feel good."
"Y'know what would feel better," you whisper, scratching gently down his chest and watching goosebumps prickle his skin. With a shift of your hips, his next thrust pushes in, just slightly, before popping out and grinding into your clit again. His next thrust - slower, firmer - notches against your entrance and pushes in, Joel's hands on your ass dragging you down, until you're seated to the root of him.
It's a stretch. It always was. But over three months, and a decline in solo sessions, made it even more so.
Still, even through the stretch, you rock against him, looking into the eyes of Joel Miller, the normal, every day guy who lives down your street, and smile at it all, and the look on his face that says he couldn't be luckier.
"Said I wanted you to come, didn't I?"
And you meant it. You show him how much you mean it as you start to ride him, lifting higher and higher off of him before pushing back down. Your thighs clap against his, wet with sweat and slipping together with each movement, echoing around your living room.
It doesn't last long. It can't. It's too fucking hot, and you're woefully out of practice as the stretch in your pussy turns into a burn in your legs. You can see Joel's face start to pinch and contort, looking between your face, your bouncing tits, and the slip of his cock in and out of you, barely visible in the shadows.
But you can't keep going. You'll pass out if you do. Joel's hands register what you're doing before his face does, gripping tighter and holding you down on him, before his mouth opens in a gasp, his head falling back after losing something he was so close to getting.
You barely pull in a breath of warm air before Joel is dragging you down, flipping you unceremoniously onto your back on the floor.
It's cooler down here, even with Joel's body over yours. It's why you were on the floor to begin with, before he came back, before you let him back in. Joel fumbles against you, the sweat on your body acting more like a full body lube at this point, before he slides back in, knocking the air out of you as he fills you all over again.
Even though his knees will be bruised in the morning and your back will ache, he pounds into you, gripping your shirt and pulling you down with each thrust.
And it's just so fucking good you can't help but practically scream as he fucks you, moaning loudly into his ear as he groans and pants and swears into yours. Your fingers can't find purchase against his back, even as you desperately claw at him. There's too much sweat - it's too fucking hot in here - but you wouldn't change any of the desperate mess that you find yourselves in here on the floor.
He's growling, balls slapping against you, fucking you so hard you have to throw a hand out to hold onto the couch.
"I'm gonna - fuck - look at me. Look. Fuck. Fuck."
He presses in then, spurting deep in you, stealing the air from your mouth, and you from his, as you gasp and groan with each shallow thrust of his hips.
When he pulls out, hands going from bruising grip to gentle strokes, he rolls off of you, his back slapping wetly against the ground just as your pussy makes its own equally wet sound. And you laugh, because it's silly, just like it always has been, with or without a costume or a name that's not quite his own to go with it. Joel chuckles along with you, content and dozy from his orgasm, the evidence of it trickling out of you and making a mess of your floor as your stomach contracts with laughter.
The house cools down in the darkness - not much, but enough. Your hands find each other again too, and you each dance small patterns across each others skin until words come back to you.
You talk there on the floor, sweat drying on your skin, until the rumble of your stomach becomes too distracting to continue. You learn his favorite color, what he does for a living, his daughters name. You even learn the exact make and model of his truck, something you immediately forget.
And when he tries to excuse himself, too frightened of overstaying his welcome, you invite him to stay, and Joel Miller, the best Joel you've ever met, says yes.
next part
taglist: @jupiter-soups@wannab-urs@bean-is-reading@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@youandmeand5bucks-blog@bbyanarchist@vickywallace@kamcrazy123@valkyreally@ashhlsstuff@a-literal-goblin@ariundercovers@iluvurfather@stevie75@toxicanonymity@thesevi0lentdelights@sp00kymulderr
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muwapsturniolo · 3 days
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✯𝐂𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 3✯
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐰𝐚𝐩𝐆𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛
IN WHICH… Matt and Chris Sturniolo are just two inexperienced losers.
𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD! mentions of camming, blowjobs, spit, little bit of sub!matt. that's all i think of let me know if i forgot something.
MPT1, GPT1, MPT2, GPT2,
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"Can’t wait to see you again, maybe this time you won’t be as shy and you will actually look at me 💕"
Matt has been staring at those word for what seems like days, but in reality was really 30 minutes. He didn't know if he wanted to jump in excitement, or crawl into a hole and never come out.
He knew she caught a glimpse of his face in the diner, however, he didn't think she would recognize him and choose him as the winner. Part of him was hoping that she got too many submissions and would miss his, finding someone better than him.
There had to have been someone better than him. After all, he was nothing but a virgin who kept his head in books and the occasional video game. He wasn't experienced in her extracurricular activities.
So why did she pick hi-Mika.
Mika must have been with Y/n when going through the submissions and noticed Matt, thus being the reason he was picked.
Mika probably thinks he's some kind of freak for watching her best friend's streams. They were probably laughing at him right now, Mika going on to tell Y/n all about how they had to teach him how to take a picture of his dick.
He's mortified.
His phone ringing pulls him out of his thoughts, he glances over and his heart drops seeing the contact name.
Mika
Is she calling to make fun of him? To call him a perv for entering in a contest to win a date with a cam girl?
He shakily answers the call and places it on speaker, his voice cracking.
"H-hello?''
"Matt we need your help!"
We?
"With wh-So I'm at my friend's place and her camera is acting stupid! I know you are majoring in film so I was wondering if you could come over and help?"
He debates on helping, not really wanting to face Mika and the sheer embarrassment that she knows about the contest. "I-I don't know Mika I'm pre-Please Matt? I really need my camera fixed."
An all too familiar voice flows through the phone making Matt tense.
The voice was a bit higher pitched, the words whiny, but also sultry.
Y/n
He swallows harshly as he begins to sweat, he wasn't expecting to hear her voice at all. "Please Matt? I'll pay you."
Her words have an underlying tone that makes Matt all the more nervous.
"I- Ok...Yeah, I'll come help." He looks at himself in the mirror and grimaces at his outfit and hair. He had just gotten out of the shower not too long ago, his hair still partially wet and his pajamas on.
"Perfect! I'll have Mika send you the address! bye, pretty boy!"
Matt feels his face warm at the nickname, loving how it made him feel.
His phone lights up with text stating the address and his eyes widen.
They live in the same apartment building.
How did he never notice they lived in the same building? he's on the third floor and she's on the fourth, he should have noticed. How have they never run into each other?
He chooses not to dwell too much on it, and rushes out of his apartment, heading right towards the elevator.
He arrives at the door and shakily raises his hand, knocking on the wooden frame. Not even a second later it swings open, Mika standing in front of him.
He quickly notices the girl behind her, dressed in a pair of skimpy blue shorts and a matching tube top. It’s something about the brown girl in blue that does something to him.
Y/n catches him staring and smirks to herself, purposely crossing her arms so her boobs are pushed up. “Matt?” He snaps out of his trance and looks back to Mika
"S-sorry, what did you say?"
Mika rolls her eyes and pulls him inside, slamming the door in the process. "OK so I have to run and grab the food we ordered, I shouldn't be long. You two get the camera fixed." Mika quickly exits the apartment, leaving the two alone.
Y/n smirks as Matt refuses to look at her, his finger twitching as he becomes antsy. She takes a few steps until she's right in front of him, "You ok Matt? You look a bit sick."
'I-I'm fine-" He clears his throat and finally looks up, making brief eye contact before looking around the apartment. "-where's the camera?" He completely ignores her question, just wanting to fix the camera. the quicker he finishes his job, the quicker he can leave and be able to breathe properly.
She motions toward the hallway, a mischievous glint in her eye,
"my bedroom."
His mouth runs dry as she grabs his hand, guiding him to the bedroom he's seen multiple times through a screen. Y/n looks back at him and giggles, "What you've never been in a girl's bedroom before?'' Her question makes him blush, his hair falling in his face as he looks down. He quickly walks over to the bed, grabbing the camera. He looks over it, trying to see exactly what the problem is. He doesn't find anything so he averts his gaze to Y/n who's already looking at him.
"Um, what exactly is wrong with it?"
"It's not focusing and every time we take a picture, it doesn't save." Her words are whiny, a sense of urgency in her voice. He hums and looks back at the camera, turning it on and trying to see what she's talking about. He raises it up and focuses on a random doll on her nightstand. As she watches Matt get distracted by the camera, she takes the time to look him up and down.
She figures he just got out of the shower, seeing that his hair is wet and dripping onto his pink shirt. His sweatpants hang low on his waist, showing the band of his boxers.
He looks good.
“Are you going to accept the date.”
Her words make Matt fumble with the camera and drop it on the bed. She giggles and takes a step closer to him, her sweet perfume making its way through his nostrils and invading his senses.
“W-what?”
“The date Matt, are you going to accept?”
He swallows harshly, wiping his sweaty palms on his sweatpants. “I-I don’t know.”
She frowns at his answer, she was expecting him to say yes. Matt notices the look on her face and begins to panic, “n-not that I don’t want to! You’re great! I-I’m just n-nervous…”
“About what?”
“You..”
Y/n tilts her head to the side.
He’s nervous about her?
“Me? Why are you nervous about me?” She watches as he looks everywhere but at her, even going as far as taking a step back. She smiles and takes a step towards him, watching as he swallows harshly.
She delicately trails her hand over his tattooed arm, allowing her nails to gently scratch over the black ink. "Are you nervous right now?" She looks up at him, enjoying the anxious look on his face.
"Y-Y no..." He lies softly. The girl hums and cocks her head to the side, "You sure? You seem really nervous. Maybe I could help you with that." She gently pushes him down on the bed, immediately dropping to her knees. Matt quickly adjusts his glasses and looks down at her with wide eyes.
If it wasn't already, his heart was definitely pounding out of his chest. He feels his mouth run dry as she places her hands on his thighs, rubbing over his sweatpants slowly. She chuckles under her breath as she watches the tent rise in front of her, "Someone excited."
She slowly inches her hands toward the tent, pulling it away at the last minute. "You know, I really enjoyed your video Matt."
"Y-you did?" He curses as his voice cracks, the tension in the room making him shake slightly.
"Mhm, I loved the setup you had, I loved the way you pulled your sweats down and started to tease yourself slowly, building up your release. I loved the way you moaned and whimpered my name, begging your mommy, to let you cum. I didn't take you as a mommy kink person."
Matt is breathing harshly at this point, nothing but dirty thoughts that have his face turning red intruding his mind. He doesn't understand how Y/n manages to look so innocent when she's on her knees in front of him and talking about him masturbating.
" But you want to know what I really loved?"
He sucks in a sharp breath when she finally lays her hand on his tent, palming him gently.
"How big you were. You should have seen how wet I got when I saw it. I imagined how it felt in me, the way it would slip in so easily. The thoughts became so intense I ended up playing with myself." she admits without a care in the world. She was a sucker for dirty talk, the erotic words always going straight to her core as her brain managed to develop the images as if she was in a dark room with a Polaroid.
She could tell the titillating words were getting to him as well, him now sitting there nonverbal and only breathing raggedly.
"Can I see?" She asks in faux innocence, her hand still moving against his tent at an agonizingly slow pace.
He wants to say yes so bad, he would be an absolute fucking dumbass not to, but he's worried about Mika walking through the door and catching them. Y/n notices the way his eyes frantically switch between her and the door, finding it amusing that he's worried about being caught.
"Don't worry about Mika. Let me help you relax," her hands go toward the knot on his sweats, taking her time untying them before pulling them down gently.
He's wearing a pair of blue boxers that happen to sheer against his growing bulge, a dark spot sitting where his tip lays from precum. She lays her head on his thigh, beginning to palm over him once again before circling the nail of her index finger against the covered tip. Matt bites his lip in trepidation, his skin getting hot as she teases him.
He whimpers as she plants feather-like kisses on his tip through the cotton material, her tongue darting out and licking a fat strip over the tent not long after.
She's going to be the death of him, he's sure of it.
Before he knows it, her fingers are hooked into the waistband of his boxers and they are being pulled down, his cock swinging up and hitting him in his abdomen.
Just like the other night, Y/n can feel her mouth watering and an ache forming in between her legs.
It's even more appealing in person.
She wraps her hand around the base and moves closer, planting a small kiss on his tip. She looks up at Matt and maintains eye-contact as she gathers a bunch of spit in her mouth, soon opening the orifice and sticking her tongue out.
Matt flinches as the warm saliva drips onto his tip, his fingers twitching at the sensation of it running down the side of his aching cock.
She uses the spit as a natural lube and begins to move her hand up and down, making sure to work him slowly so he won't cum fast. She plans on dragging this out as long as she could.
Matt's eyes flutter shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip harshly as he holds back a moan. This was a whole new experience for him, only having started masturbating a few months ago. He was used to his own hand, and setting his own pace, but this?
This was a feeling that he knew he would chase till the end of time.
Her hand feels completely different from his, the skin a bit softer as well as the touch. Her movements were fluid, yet staggered at the same time.
He wouldn't trade it for the world.
His eyes snap open feeling her lips suddenly engulf his tip. He lets a low groan escape his throat as her tongue swirls around the red mushroom top.
She hums, watching as the vibrations make him shiver. It's not long before she decides to take him fully in her mouth, hallowing out her cheeks. Matt lets out a choked gasp at the unfamiliar feeling.
"Oh fu-ck!" His hands have an iron grip on the pink duvet as she proceeds to bob her head up and down. He doesn't know what to focus on.
Does he focus on her mouth and hallowed out cheeks? Or does he focus on the way her tongue is gliding against the side of his dick?
He truly doesn't know considering his mind is all over the place, the only thing he can focus on being this newfound pleasure.
The lewd slurping sounds along with Matt's moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls drive Y/n even more. She keeps her eyes trained on Matt as she takes him all the way down her throat, watching him close his eyes and throw his head back. His moans go straight to her core, but she does nothing about it, her only goal as of right now is to give Matt the best head of his life.
And she's doing just that.
She speeds up her motion of bobbing, enjoying watching him crumble above her.
Matt feels like the soul is being sucked out of him, quite literally. His breathing speeds up and his knuckles remain a sickly white as his stomach begins to cave in on itself.
"Shit I'm close- Oh fuck please!" He begs, unintentionally bucking his hips further into her mouth.
She hums once again, making Matt damn near cry as the vibrations send him over the edge.
His head falls forward, his jaw dropping as his eyes close. Y/n keeps bobbing her head, moaning as she begins to taste the semi-salty liquid coating her taste buds.
Matt whimpers as she proceeds to suck him off, the overstimulation quickly becoming too much. His thighs begin to shake and he finally speaks, "s'too much!"
Y/n slowly stops bobbing her head and pulls away from him with a pop, a thin string of spit and cum attaching itself to his cock and her lips.
Matt swallows harshly and pants as he lifts his head, watching with hazy eyes as Y/n licks her lips.
"You look more relaxed now," she teases, a sly smile making its way on to her face as she manages to still look at him innocently.
Before either of them could say anything else, they hear the front door only a few feet away swing open.
"I'm back and I got Chinese food!"
Y/n quickly stands to her feet as Matt hastily grabs at his boxers and pants, the two trying to put themselves together quickly. Just as the two manage to look presentable, Mika walks into the room.
"Sorry it took me so long, they fucked up the original order and they had to remake it, but they let me keep the fucked up one so now we have double the food!" Y/n nods, trying to act completely normal.
"Matt why are you so red?" Mika asks looking at the boy who is in fact red in the face. "i-it's just hot..." He attempts to lie, hoping Mika will just drop it. Fortunately for him, the girl does in fact drop it, too hungry to care.
"Ok well lets eat. Matt you want to stay? We have more than enough food." Matt freezes at the offer.
He would like to stay, but he doesn't know if he physically could. He just got the blowjob of his life from the girl of his dreams, he doesn't know if he would be mentally able to sit and eat with her.
He would probably combust.
"yeah, Matt stay! " Y/n begs, that mischievous glint returning in her eyes.
"I-ok," he gives in easily, finding it hard to say no to the girl and her puppy dog eyes. She smiles and grabs his hand, leading him to the kitchen. They stop in front of her fridge and she swings the door open, bending over directly in front of him.
Matts eyes widen feeling her ass rub against him, "what do you want to drink?" She asks as if she's not teasing.
She's going to be the death of him.
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alright, i finally gave yall pt 3😭 this was supposed to only be three parts but i feel bad for posting without @guccifrog so when pookie comes back imma give yall a pt 4💀 i hope yall enjoy
𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d
special tags: @lovetriplets @summerssover @m0r94n @certifiednatelover @mattsturniololoverr @luvulots @nena1256
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classypauli · 23 hours
Text
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
tara carpenter x fem!reader
summary: The morning after party seeing Tara in your house wasn’t something you would expect and why the hell you weren’t bothered by that at all?
tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, alcohol, throwing up, bickering, roller-coaster ride, curse words, memories
word count: 2.6k
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The next day you woke up. Yesterday night you didn´t lose yourself much, like Chad for example. You weren´t a fan of alcohol or more like drinking somewhere where there are a lot of people you don´t know.
As you stood up from your bed and made your way into the living room you could smell something sweet. Your face turned into confusion.
What´s that?
You slowly walked into your kitchen and you saw Tara behind the counter, making food. You raised eyebrows at the scene in front of you. The girl turned around and realized you were standing there.
„Good morning.“ She said as she smiled at you. You were still looking at her with a confused face. She seemed different like she wasn´t the girl you were used to.
„Hey?“
She slowly walked towards you, smiling softly with playful eyes. „Why that long face?“ she asked as she was playing with her hands behind her back, looking up at you.
„What are you doing?“ you asked looking up behind her at the kitchen counter, still processing what was going on.
„Food silly.“ she smiled widely and put her arms around your neck. „For you.“ She whispered looking still into your eyes. She was so close you could feel her breath on your skin.
What the fuck is happening?!
You started to sweat and your breathing was getting faster by every second. Then when you felt like you were getting zero air into your lungs, your eyes opened and you sat on your bed.
You quickly looked around you with eyes wide open, touching yourself on both arms and chest. As if you were making sure you were real. Then you realize you are in your room, in your bed. It was a dream.
„What the fuck?!“
You stood up from the bed, tripping over the blanket as you tried to stand up fast from the bed.
You ran into the kitchen but was only met with nothing. Everything was where it was supposed to be, not a single change. You looked around one more time when suddenly you heard a groan from the living room.
,,You stomp like an elephant.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment. You knew who it was, now you remember clearly.
That little dwarf.
You went into the living room and saw the brunette laying on her stomach. One of her legs was over the edge of the couch, the same as her arm, and the blanket was on the ground. It was weird position but, whatever works for her.
Maybe short people have different sleeping positions.
,,You won’t say anything?” She asked again, and she lifted her head a little in your direction. Her hair was everywhere along with her mascara.
,,You look ugly.” You replayed with your morning voice and left the living room. After that you felt the soft pillow hit your back.
You just laughed at her when you heard her saying something under her nose as you kept walking away.
-
That day you and your friends went to the theme park. It wasn´t probably the best idea, Chad was currently throwing up in some bush. And you went to just on a carousel. Really slow carousel.
It´s not like you were telling him to go with you. He was the one that wanted to go, saying that he was fine.
„You okay buddy?“ you tapped his back, giving him some tissues. He nodded and stood up straight.
„Never better.“ He looked at Mindy. „Can we go again?“
See? He wasn´t even touched by a situation that he was in just a couple of seconds ago.
„No, definitely not.“ She grabbed him by the arm and started to walk him somewhere. Probably toilets. Her voice was fading away as they were getting far by each step, still scolding him.
You were standing there with just Tara, Anika, Ethan, and his sister Quinn. Not knowing where to go without the two siblings. You sighed and went to sit on the bench as you were waiting for them to come back.
It was fun at first, you all laughed at the slow ride and enjoyed the cool weather in your hair. Then all of a sudden Chad´s face got a little green and he just bent forward with his hand on his stomach.
You smiled a little as you repeated the scene in your head again.
„Can we go to that next?“ Tara asked as she was pointing at the big roller coaster above your heads. The people who were currently on the ride were screaming with their eyes closed and hands up in the air.
You raised your eyebrows as you were looking up at the switchback. „You sure they would let you in?“ you asked the girl. „They have a height restriction there.“ you continued with a little smirk.
Tara´s smile slowly fell and was now looking at you with angry eyes. „Oh, I´m more worried about you. You look like you just shit in your pants by only looking at it.“ She said with a provocative voice. „You don´t have to hide your fear by camouflaging it with something else.“
„Says a girl who won´t even get there because she stopped growing in kindergarten.“
„At least I´m not scared of a ride for kids!“
„For kids? So you just wanted to go among your own?“
„What did you say you fuckin-“
You continued your bickering without realizing Mindy and Chad already came back. Everyone was just ignoring the two of you, already used to it.
„I´m not scared!“
„You are! Why else you would not want to go there?“
You breathed out through your nose as you were shooting daggers at the girl in front of you. You didn´t want to admit it but from that crazy roller coaster, you were feeling respect. But you were not scared... or were you? No, you needed to prove it to her and maybe to yourself too.
Your legs started to shake a little with adrenaline as you were now standing in the row full of people waiting for the ride.
Tara was beside you, smiling mischievously at the ride and then back at you. Your hands were getting wet and your heart couldn´t keep up.
It´s just a stupid ride.
As you got into your seats and you got locked in your chest was rising faster. Tara was beside you smiling and holding onto the railing in front of her tightly.
You looked down at your friends who were standing under the roller coaster laughing at you with their phones in their hands. Your eyes were pleading with help and before you could say something to them the ride started.
Throughout the whole time, you and Tara were screaming at the top of your lungs. The brunette beside you was screaming because of excitement and you were yelling because of fear. You just wanted it to end already.
It went up and down, right and left. The worst part was the one when you went all the way to the top and suddenly came down at high speed.
When it ended your hair was everywhere and your eyes were wide. Your legs were shaking and as soon as you felt the touch of the ground you fell onto your knees with happiness across your face.
„Thank you!“ you yelled into the sky.
Tara was still laughing hard beside you, holding her stomach and her dimples on display.
It has been such a long time since you have seen them. You almost forgot how they look. They were bored deep into her cheeks, just like the last time.
Mindy ran in your direction with others laughing at you. „Are you guys okay?“ You were taking deep breaths in and out as you were looking up at Mindy, still on the ground.
„It was fine.“ You quickly stood up and brushed your knees as if you didn´t just have a panic attack. Tara laughed at your answer humorously.
„You almost started crying up there.“
„I did not!“ Your face had a deep color of red all around your cheeks, clearly embarrassed from it.
„Oh boy look at this!“ Chad pointed out at the photo of you and Tara on the roller coaster. „They took a photo of you two!“
When everybody got the chance to see it they instantly started laughing. In the photo were you and Tara with open mouths, screaming. Your hair went with the wind and speed of the ride and your hands were holding each other tightly.
You don´t even remember it. Your eyes were wide open showing fear but Tara´s were close. She looked really happy in that photo.
„Wha- They fucking photoshopped it! I didn´t look like that!“ you yelled as you pointed at your face in the picture. You refuse to believe that.
„Oh you are such a sissy!“ Tara laughed at you and held her hand before her mouth.
„I´m not!“ you scrunched your nose and folded your arms on your chest as you looked away from your laughing friends.
Oh, you were such a kid.
You were trying to throw the photo into the trash can but Tara wanted to keep it, saying she wants to remember your scared face forever. She couldn’t be more excited to tease you about it later.
-
 You loved most of your childhood memories. You loved bringing yourself back to the good times when everything was so simple. Well, that time it was hard and you didn´t understand a lot of things.
When people say “I would want to go back in time with my current thinking“ you know what they mean.
You were pretty stupid, keeping your mouth shut in times when you needed to say something. You always wanted to protect everyone from everything and be a good friend even to those who didn´t deserve it. But who protected you? It was always easier for you to protect someone else than yourself.
You were currently sitting on your bed, in your dad’s house. The bag in which you brought clothes in was beside your legs. You wanted to stay here for the weekend, just take a rest from school and fast life.
This house brought you a lot of memories. It was enough to just look somewhere like the faded colors of your room or the porch swing that was behind the house. The ticking clock in the hallway that you hated because of how they were loud in the night and the smell of the flowers that were decorating the garden. Or the photos that were hanging on almost every wall in the house.
This was yours and you felt safe here.
-
„Oh my, I missed this so much.“ You said as you were chewing on the burger in your hand. Your dad laughed at you as he was turning around some meat on the grill.
The both of you were sitting outside on the wooden chairs by the big oak table. Your father built this a couple of years ago, like half of the things in the house. He loved the handmade things and enjoyed doing them.
Behind you was an orange sunset that was slowly fading because of the hills that were covering the sun. You could hear the crickets in the distance and the gentle wood cracking in the fire. The soft warm wind was bringing you the smell of the roasted vegetables and meat.  
You talked about the city and your school. He asked about your friends and how are they. Your dad loves them. He remembers a lot of times when you brought them to your house and how he laughed a lot of times at you. He loved spending time with you and every time your friends came he couldn´t say no.
When it got dark you cleaned everything and went to the house. You wanted to spend time with him as much as possible so you offered to watch some games on TV.
„Last week I was cleaning the loft and I found this.“ He said as he sat beside you on the couch.
You looked confused at the box he was holding in his hands. Just from the looks you could tell it was really old, on the top of it was left dust that wasn´t well wiped. „What´s that?“
He gave the box into your hands. „Look.“
You opened the top of the box with scrunched eyebrows. In the box were photos. Your family photos. Most of them were yours from when you were a toddler to your first day in kindergarten and school. Your graduation photo.
There were also photos from every year with your classmates. You could see how you were changing each year. There were some of the family celebrations like birthdays or vacation photos.
As you were browsing through the photos your eye caught two photos. The first one was when you were in first grade in school. It was a couple of weeks after you started to go to school.
In the photo were standing four kids. You, Mindy, Chad, and Tara. You laughed at the image. Mindy was the tallest of all of you at that time. You and Tara were the same height and Chad was a little shorter than you. The four of you were wearing school uniforms and on your backs were big school bags.
You put the photo away and now you were looking at the second photo. Your face became stoic as your eyes were scanning the photo.
You were holding that for a couple of seconds like you were remembering something. Your dad was still looking at you, trying to read your face.
-
It was a sunny day in the middle of summer. It was one of the hot days when you could almost feel the warm rays of the sun.
Laughing and yelling could be heard around the playground in a park. Parents were sitting on benches looking out for their children on talking to each other. It was perfect weather for taking a walk in the park to hide from the fierce sun.
Tara was just 7 at that time. She was swaying on one of the swings nearby, enjoying the air that flew through her loose hair. Her legs went up and down at every change of the swing position. Her hands tightly held the chains on both sides, carefully so she won´t fall.
She slowly stopped and was now just sitting there looking around her. Kids were chasing each other around, climbing on a small caste to slide down the slide or they were playing with sand.
Suddenly she felt pressure on her back and she was forced to fall in front of her. The sudden movement made her fall into her knees and palms of her hands, barely keeping herself up. Tara´s first reaction was to look at the part of her body that was in pain, her palms were stretched from the small stones that were at the ground.
The small girl could hear a laugh from behind her. There were three boys that Tara knew from the school, they were a year older than her and were always doing bad things to others.
„Oh, my bad! Didn´t see you there!“ One of them laughed and went to sit on the swing that she sat on before. The other two kept laughing at her, she was still on the ground looking at them. She slowly stood up and brushed her knees. Tara saw how her knees were red and dirty from the fall on the ground.
„What? Don´t tell me you want to cry?“ 
Tara´s eyes started to water. She felt scared and alone. Suddenly the boy that was on the swing was pushed hard on the ground, exactly like Tara was. His hands didn´t catch him in time and he fell right onto his face.
Tara and the two other boys were standing there shocked at what just happened. You were standing behind the swing with angry eyes. You then looked at the two boys that were beside you and took a step in their direction. That made them run away from the three of you.
The boy that was on the ground touched his hurt face. He noticed that on his palm was blood and not from the ground. But from his nose.
„You want to cry?“ you asked him as you were walking to him. His face was dirty and under his nose was a little blood. Scared of what would you do next he wanted to quickly stand up and run away but you were fast to grab him by the sleeve of his shirt.
„Don´t ever do that again.“ You told him and pushed him again. Then you looked at Tara and saw her just standing there with her big brown eyes. She was your best friend at the time.
You went to her and with your small arms hugged her. She thanked you and you went to help her treat her wound. After that, you came back and played together till your parents called you home.
Tara was smiling the whole time she was with you. With her deep dimples and shiny eyes.
-
The photo you were holding was you with Tara, standing beside each other. One of your arms was around her shoulders and hers was around your waist. Both of you had wide smiles across your faces.
You almost forget about it. You used to have the biggest crush on Tara. She was your first-ever friend. Even before Mindy. She was the reason you begged your dad to let you be outside a little longer or you would run to school or the playground just so you could see her. You would always protect her from everyone and everything, make her laugh and spend time with her.
You shook your head at the memory with a small smile. Funny how time changes.
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E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 10!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader
Warnings: +18 filth, dirty stuff, drink holy water but also romance bc yes
Notes: This is (not) the final chapter of this series omg thank you for reading. I am not done with the series itself, whatever plot comes to my mind I am sure I will develop it. If you have also requests for the series, maybe headcanons, blurbs, or anything I am your loyal writer!
WC: 5.9K
Taglist: @fallout-girl219 @ravenwtfbro @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @mmmunson
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Bournemouth smelled like pines, salt, humidity and sex.
You grabbed your fan and placed it on top of your head, the sun was threatening to burn your skin any second now and you were already sweating too much for your own liking and still you loved every aspect of it. Your hand softly traced the damp sand next to you and you tried to sign your name in it, your eyes darted to the front and you saw Benedict kneeling on the sand meters away from you and he looked addicted to the view.
A chalk by his right hand and a sketching pad in his left. He was inspired.
"Did you see that?!!" he yelled, turning only his head and pointing to the sky "The birds are hunting fish!" he laughed
"I see it!" you yelled back, your hand grabbed the sweating glass of lemonade and you drank all of it "I must go to the water!"
"Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed turning to his sketch "Enjoy!"
You stood up, your head bending away from the umbrella and your feet touched the warm sand. You passed Benedict as he kept sketching and your feet finally touched the sea water. As you giggled, you ventured further and the water soon reached your belly.
The horrid dress you had to wear for sea bathing clung to your body, and the skirt threatened to float up if it wasn't for the small sacks hanging from the skirt actually to prevent that. You stepped further and the water was reaching the underside of your breasts. The waves hit you with their force and you almost lost your balance, but you managed to stay standing. Your hair was being pulled back, your face felt the wind and you laughed, looking at the sun. Why people don't do this often?
"Y/N?!"
You spun around and saw Benedict "Hi!"
"I thought you would damp your soles!" he snorted seeing your small head floating next to the vast sea "You are an adventurer!"
"I am a sea woman!" you laughed "A mermaid!"
Benedict replied with a smile, ran back to the several towels spread by the sand and took a sip of the lemonade. You floated naturally without help and you thanked your mother for taking you to the famous peerless piscine several times. You grinned when Benedict ran to the sea and shivered once the water touched him.
"Come on now!" you yelled
"It is cold!" he kept going forward, the breeches turned black as the water collided with his legs "Oh woman, how do you stay inside there?"
"It gets warm after a while" Your body lost its weight underwater and you kept on flowing with the tide as you waited for him to be next to you "Perhaps you can get in before night"
"Don't tease"
"I can't stop myself"
He reached you and you two looked at each other, the wind was getting wilder and his eyes were shining with the sunlight. Benedict looked like a creature, his pale skin contrasted with the dark water, his eyes were so blue turning green and his hair was slightly moist with the drops of the sea.
"You lo-"
"You lo-"
Both of you laughed as you tried to talk at the same time. Benedict's hands floated your way as he hugged you and you smiled at the warmth of his body, his hands were so big they could probably wrap your whole waist and the idea was too thrilling to be ignored.
"You look like a goddess"
"Well thank you" you kissed his lips gently and looked to the sky, the sun was at its peak "Can we stay here forever?"
"We might turn into merpeople"
"Not the water, the place. Is so quiet"
"Just a few cottages around" he nodded "and they charged me shillings for a basket of vegetables"
"Shillings?"
"Four"
"Oh" you laughed "this is heaven then"
"I wondered," he said floating and staring at you "when would you like to get settled? London or the country?"
You smirked, "You know me, what do I like?"
"The country of course"
"And the city?"
"You like it a lot" he chortled "But you also enjoy the quietness of the countryside"
"What do you like?"
"The country, for sure. London has become crazy, hasn't it?"
"I Loved Your Cottage"
"It is yours now"
"No, I mean, Your Cottage, you silly"
"Ah" he beamed as he leaned backwards wetting all his hair and turning it from chestnut to black "It is not as big as your house"
"And? Doesn't it feel more like a home?"
Benedict got a glimpse of the future inside that cottage, the two of you waking up in each other's arms, making tea, making love, making breakfast and having the entire house for the both of you. It would be a quiet, calm, and peaceful life, like his parents and siblings, family, home, marriage, and kids.
"Come here" The sudden passion got the best of him as he grabbed you from your waist and kissed you deeply, he tasted drops of seawater by your lips and still he swore it was sweet just like before. "We can get a place here" he suggested "This might not be Italy but it surely has beautiful views"
"It can be a vacation place, I know that you want to practice art don't you?"
"No doubt"
"This is further from clients, you ought to have a closer practice to London and we can return to your house for any sort of commissions you might have there"
"That might be the most wifeful statement you have ever said"
"Am I not your wife?"
"You are beyond that" he stated playing with the water next to him "Whatever you want to do with your time?"
"You mean to earn money for a living?" you went straight to splash water on him "Who would employ me?"
"You are the smartest person I know, if you want to do something else I am here to support you, aren't I? Do whatever pleases you, darling"
You looked at the horizon, the sun was going down slowly. A mother? You wanted a family, you desired Benedict's children. Can there be something more than duty within the household?
"I will think about it. I promise" You nodded "I am parched, I'll drink something and will come back so don't move"
You kissed him again and swam back to the towels and the umbrella. Benedict looked at the sun as it kept setting, a smile was forming on his face as he imagined his life, and he was happy, happier than ever but alas his thoughts were cut sharp like a knife slicing bread.
"Oh, look at that" he murmured
As you walked outside the water he saw every angle of your body. The sea bathing dress -that was considered for modesty- did absolutely nothing to hide your modesty. On the contrary, he swears that you look like a marble sculpture with a thin veil covering your curves. The way the wet fabric clings against your thighs and your bottom, the way it hides next to your core and when you return from drinking your lemonade he got the best view.
Whatever for he was sketching the sky when he could be sketching you instead?
"Ben?"
But your questioning was cut because he didn't realize he was being pulled by the image of you. He felt the wind crashing against his damp clothing but he did not care he only shushed his name from your lips and pulled your body to his and kissed you fiercely, the world stopped spinning and everything went in slow motion. Benedict could not help himself but moan and he could feel the heat growing on his groin as he kissed your lips and tasted the lemonade by the way your mouth opened.
"What was that?" you panted, breathless
"I don't know," he whispered, his fingers touching your face, his other hand tracing your curves "you just looked..."
"Yes?"
"Every time" he snorted cupping your cheeks "Every time I believe I have found my inspiration, rather is in that bloody bird hunting fish with the sky and the sea as witness... you come and in your own way you make realize my inspiration is and will forever be you"
You were blushing, your heart was beating too fast for your own liking, your eyes were watering, and your mind was in a trance. You had the power to inspire such a great man "Try to take it back" you said
His pupils were dilated as his hands went to your waist and squeezed it, he felt his cock growing as his eyes travelled through the entirety of your figure. Benedict was in awe and in love. He ran his nose next to your temple and the scent of your skin mingled with the salt of the water made his groin ache
"Darling"
"I'm not stopping you, I am asking you"
"You are a dangerous woman" he gently pushed you down tot he and kissed you again, his lips traveled to your jaw and sucked your skin until the collarbones, his teeth nibbled the flesh and he groaned, his hands were pulling your hips to his "So dangerous"
"Ben" you sighed, your body was on fire that you swore the heat coming off from you could dry your dress in an instant. His tongue licked the salty water from your neck and he sucked hard, leaving a bruise. His lips kissed and sucked, and your head tilted to the side to give him more space, his mouth was doing wonders and your body was trembling, and your legs were clenching together "Oh"
Benedict stopped the attack and cupped your chin, he guided your face to look at him and it was the most absurd feeling he has ever had but nonetheless valid to him because he can swear on God himself that every time he is about to ravish you, he feels like it's the first time. Over and over again, like the most wonderful spell.
"Every moment without you feels like an eternity; you are my deepest longing and my sweetest torment, Y/N"
He caught you off guard and the gasp from your mouth came not only by his loving confession but by the attack next to your vocal cords. Suddenly your dress weighed heavily on you, and your body felt like sinking in the sand so you fidgetted and tried to take your dress off, he noticed it and helped you.
The damped fabric flew and landed heavily on the sand leaving you bare to him again. The exposure was very welcome by you, comfortable under his grip as he took one of your nipples inside his mouth and sucked. You moaned, your hands gripping his hair as he sucked hard and then licked the hard bud "Oh"
His cock twitched in his breeches, and the need for more friction was getting out of control so he unbuttoned the trousers and let them fall to his knees, and then he took his shirt off. Your fingers traced his torso, small grains of sand attached to his skin.
"Look at you" he stood kneeling with you lying down, he admired the way your breasts heaved and fell in a tantalizing rhythm and his hand traced your abdomen and the curls of your sex "So exquisite"
"Benedict" you pleaded, your legs were clenching against the need and you were growing impatient.
He smirked, his finger caressed the sensitive nub and you jumped in pleasure, a moan escaped from your lips as he touched you, the pad of his fingers circling and teasing the bud, his index finger slipped in between your folds and he could not help but grunt at the feeling of your warmth "So wet"
"Please" you moaned again, the heel of your feet pushing down the trousers away from his knees, Benedict hissed as the breeze hit him "Don't make me beg"
"Wouldn't dream of it"
He removed his finger from you and took your wetness around his throbbing member and started pumping his length. You looked at the act and the way his hand moved along with his shaft, his eyes were locked on yours as the pace of his movements increased, he could see how the sight affected you.
"Y/N" he murmured and dropped his body on top of you, the weight of his body against yours made your core burn and his cock rubbed the wetness of your folds, the tip was leaking and the urge of wanting him inside you was making it harder and harder to be patient "My love, you drive me insane"
"I want to feel you" you begged and you did not care
Benedict pushed himself inside you and gasped, the warm feeling was intoxicating. You bit his shoulder and the sting was welcome as he started moving. Your hips were meeting his thrusts and the waves hitting you didn't help at all.
"God!"
You moaned, feeling every inch of him, his thrusts were becoming frantic and the feeling of his body rubbing against yours was bringing you to the edge, his fingers gripped your hips tightly, and his head dropped by the crook of your neck, his breathing was irregular, He couldn't fathom coming now, so soon.
So he stopped and pulled out. A disappointing look came from you by the lack of friction but Benedict went to the other side of the towels and plummeted on his back as he waved his fingers at you.
"Come here"
And you did, climbing over him and placing his cock at your entrance. You sunk down and threw your head back, your hands placed themselves by his pectorals and he took your breasts with his mouth. You didn't know in which position you felt closer to him but this one, you could feel him reaching so deep.
"Ben"
"Y/N"
You were riding him and his hips bucked, his hands went to your hips and gripped them tight. Break all of him he did not care. The sight of you bouncing without any care in the world, the sun hitting your back, the sand sprinkled by your shoulders and the sweat forming on your chest.
"Take me all" he panted, his hand grasping your bottom and squeezing it hard "I'm so close, darling, take me"
"Benedict!, I-"
The orgasm came for you first, your core clenched around his cock while your sense only focused on the tantalizing moment of the shock, and he grunted, his hips bucking into yours with the sole purpose of making you keep all of his seed now and never let it go out of you.
Benedict contracted and his mouth opened gasping for air as he came. Your hips were moving and helping him ride out his orgasm. His cock twitched inside you and his hands fell limp by his sides, slowly he went to lay flat while you were still on his lap.
"Y/N" he rubbed his mouth
"Hmmm?"
"You are not allowed to go near the sea, you hear me?"
You chuckled "Why is that?"
"Because you are dangerous, a siren, and you will lure me"
"More than I have lured you now?"
By dinner time, you two were sore of the sun and without help around you were chaotic.
"Stew has carrots"
"Does it?"
"Please" you took the cutting board "Potatoes and tomatoes"
"Can we add..." he closed the basket "Artichoke"
"Sure! With some runner beans"
"Have you tried them?"
"No" you read the small note from the farmer "But he placed them inside"
"They are hard as pebbles" he scrunched his nose as he touched the vegetables "He ought to boil them"
"Alright, let's fill the pot and boil them"
"Is there tea?" he suddenly asked
"Whatever for?"
"Drink"
You rolled your eyes and stopped putting vegetables inside the pan "First we need to boil these, Benedict"
He sighed "I am clueless in the kitchen"
"And I'm not? You come here and fill this pot, I won't starve"
"We should have brought help"
"No"
"and why not?"
"We must learn to be self-sufficient"
"I'm quite sure that no matter where we go we will bring Mrs and Mr Crabtree with us"
"In the meantime we are alone. Did you fill it?"
"Here" he passed the pot
"Thank you" you smiled and placed the pot by the fire you struggled to start then you took the kettle, you placed the pot under the sink and waited for the water to boil "Where's the tea?"
"Uh" Benedict rushed, proud he found it he passed the can "Here, my love"
"Do you know how brew it?"
"O-of course!" he laughed taking the kettle "Mother showed me once"
"Once" you raised your eyebrow
"She had faith"
You nodded and went back to chopping vegetables and he watched how the water slowly started boiling, his mind wandered to the past days and the idea of having a family with you was the thing he was most looking forward to.
"I'm quite confident we have this!" he exclaimed
An hour later you sprinkled salt and butter on top of the bland boiled vegetables while sipping a tea filled with small leaves and dunking a small biscuit in it. So much for being self-sufficient.
That night however among some stomach cramps you slept and woke up with the sound of the waves hitting the shore. The sun was coming out and the smell of salt and seawater was fresh. You went to the balcony and looked at the ocean and the sky, the clouds were forming a beautiful view and you smiled. Breakfast came and it was less of a hassle to prepare, along with the confiture of many fruits. Afterwards, Benedict and you walked around the land, the pines enclosed a beautiful view and the bushes hid foxes and bunnies you tried -and failed- to feed.
By lunch, Benedict prepared lemonade, once putting salt rather than sugar, and ventured to the sea where you swam until your stomach roared. You went back to the cottage and had a light lunch before returning to the water before dinner. That was the routine, oh-so peaceful routine that usually ended with Benedict kissing your waist and burying his face between your legs trying to find something to eat that is not vegetables nor soup.
By the last night inside the cottage, you forgot about dinner at all while Benedict took the orange confitures and smirked at your bare chest by the kitchen table.
"It is like a painting" he said taking a spoonful and letting the translucent syrup drop from the spoon by your skin "It is so beautiful"
You moaned and felt the cold liquid dropping by your chest, his fingers played with the confiture and your body was responding, your legs were slightly shaking at the passive touch.
"We have blueberries? Confiture I mean"
"I believe so"
He chirped and walked back to the cupboard. You could hear him opening and closing, and you saw him going to the sink and opening the jar, he took the spoon and scooped some of the contents of the jar and came back to you.
"Blueberry and orange"
"I don't know but it looks amazing" he let the liquid drop, his movements like the artist he is and he sprinkled more drops by your navel. The heat in your body was rising and the need to be touched was getting bigger and bigger. Benedict dropped a small quantity over the curve of your breast and you were about to scream but then he dropped his mouth and licked the fruit from your body.
"It's too much sugar" you added
Benedict's lips, slightly covered by the syrupy fruit, smiled and licked his lips. He continued to do it again and again. It was so hot in the kitchen that the humidity was starting to get the better of you. He continued licking your skin and his hand grabbed the jar and opened the lid.
"I'm going to ruin you" he whispered, his mouth sucking your neck and the confiture of blueberry dripping into the curve of your stomach
"You already did" you gasped, and another kind of syrup started to form between your legs
"No, dear, this time I will make sure you never forget what means to be loved by me"
He dripped more confiture and his mouth was ravishing your skin. The mixture of his mouth and the cold sweet syrup was driving you mad. Your hips were lifting from the table and your hands were pulling his hair. The need of him, his cock, anything, was consuming you.
"Benedict" you were panting "Don't make me wait"
"Never, my love"
His lips went to your navel and as his hands pushed and pulled the skirt of your dress he found the absence of your pantalettes and grinned at you.
"This is the first time you don't wear them"
You felt like a child as you threw your hands in the air "Are you going to talk about them or do something about it?"
"Impatient" he scolded and his mouth went to your core. The heat coming off your cunt was making him hungry, he could smell your arousal, and his tongue licked the wetness. Better than any sweet syrup he could taste. His hands were holding the back of your thighs as his tongue worked his magic.
You whined and lifted your hips to push his tongue deeper, you needed more friction, but he was not having it. He promised to ruin you tonight, he needed to keep his word. Benedict took his time licking and nibbling the lips and then the hood of your sex, he dipped his tongue inside you and the taste of the fruit mingled with the taste of you and the need of filling himself with you was adamant.
The art of teasing was his masterpiece and as he moved his mouth to the little nub your cries were growing louder and louder. Your legs were shaking and the pressure in your belly was building faster than ever. Your fingers gripped his hair and your legs closed around his head not before he pulled apart and that left you breathless.
"Benedict!"
What a low man he is right now denying an orgasm to the woman he loves but he can't "Forgive me, this cannot end like this. Stand up, love"
He helped you stand up and kissed you, his hands were on your hips and his mouth was devouring yours, his teeth pulling your bottom lip, and you gasped. His tongue tasted like a mix of confiture, and you could feel your essence still there, and his cock was pulsating. He spun you around and softly bent you down. The cold table was hitting your body and his cock was pressing by your backside.
"Benedict, pleaseeeoh! oh!" you felt him inside in one single stride and your hand slapped the table with force "Oh!!"
He grunted at the easiness of his thrust, his hips were meeting yours and he could see the way your ass was moving against his thrusts, he was mesmerized and his hand reached to your hair and pulled your head back.
"I want you to come hard and scream my name"
"I will" you cried, his cock was pushing against the spot that makes you scream.
"Who is making you feel like this, love?"
"Oh, oh!"
"Y/N"
"You! God!"
But he stopped. As much as he liked the sound of his name spilled between your lips he stopped. He took you and trotted to the reading room where he sat on the couch and guided your body to his lap.
"Come here"
"I need you" you whispered as you took his member and aligned it to your entrance
"Then take me"
The position made him feel more intense, you were bouncing up and down and he was thrusting from his angle. He captured your breast in his mouth and sucked hard trying to leave his mark; his hand slapped and kneaded your butt and he loved how it felt.
"Benedict"
"Come" he grunted, and his fingers were rubbing your clit fast "Come with me"
Your mouth parted with the final release of what has been denied of you for some minutes. It felt better, stronger and more craved than an orgasm without teasing. You rode, rode and rode as Benedict was being milked by your insides. He squinted his eyes, flashes of your curves waving front and back as you rode him and dried him again.
Still. He was hard and full for you.
He remained quiet against your panting and allowed you two to giggle yourself out of the frenzy of the moment.
"Well" you rubbed your arm "Hunger is forgotten"
"Not quite" he took you from your hips, pushed you out of his cock and made you -in a second- kneel on the couch
"What ar-"
"Ruining you"
"Benedict"
"Y/N, love"
You screamed as he entered you again, his cock inside of you still strong against your walls and the new angle made the feeling even better. His thrusts were frantic, his hands were gripping the edge of the couch and the sweat was dripping from his chest.
"You're so tight, darling"
Your hands were stopping your head from hitting the armrest while naturally, your ass curved to meet his frantic hips, once, twice, thrice he kept on going and his hand rapidly rubbed your folds.
"Wai- wait!" you said between moans "Oh-wait, I'm-"
"I will make you so full" he rubbed your nub and saw your release under him, how one of your legs stretched backwards as your body quivered and the wetness dripped between your thighs "So full"
He didn't stop, he continued, his cock was throbbing and he could feel the seed ready to burst out and his body was aching, he could not fathom another minute, he couldn't.
"Oh, god!" you whimpered "Oh, Ben"
"My love" he grunted, and the white ropes of cum hit the walls of your cunt, and your walls milked him once more in too much sensitivity you both collapsed.
"That was..." you chuckled, your chest rising and falling "Something"
"Yeah" he said, his body falling by the side of the couch
You were sore, every part of your body was tired, but the warm feeling was present and Benedict's eyes were focused on the ceiling.
"Y/N" he panted
"Yes, love"
"I don't know about you, but I'm famished"
You chuckled, the smell of sex was intoxicating but the thought of having a good meal made the difference.
"Do you crave boiled artichokes?"
"With badly brewed tea?"
"You are reading my mind, Mr Bridgerton"
*-*-*-*
Your eyes darted to the inside of Violet's cottage, a gift from Edmund when she became with child -Anthony- and you felt somehow ashamed at the way you profaned the place. By the dining room, you took the duty of getting Benedict's cock inside your mouth. By the kitchen, Benedict spread strawberry confiture on your breasts and sucked them whole. By the reading room, you two wrinkled so many pages while he trusted into you on top of the desk or last night's encounter that you swore you could smell it in the air.
You blushed at the images and tried to remember if you left the house in a good state. You took your small satchel and left the Bournemouth Cottage -not cottage- and joined Benedict by the carriage.
"We will be back" he promised "Once we settle I will write to my mother and tell her that planning a family event here can be what we all need. Perhaps if Colin hears we will be next to the sea he will join... that man and his travels"
You giggle slumping on your seat "He's next"
"For?"
"For finding someone"
"Oh, so it's between Eloise and Colin, isn't it? What a season will be"
"And Francesca too"
"My God" he closed the door and patted the ceiling "If we have girls, I will never allow them to leave us"
"What if they meet someone like you?"
He snorted "Especially someone like me" he teased "So, where to?"
You smiled "My Cottage"
"Your Cottage understood... Sir!" he exclaimed "To Wiltshire please!"
It was a lost day from Bournemouth to Wiltshire, by dinner you two arrived and Mrs Crabtree could not stop telling both of you how red you were and how she owns a "special ointment" for such burns, Mr Crabtree was fast to argue that the ointment is the one causing burns and not fixing them.
The next morning however as tired as you were you woke up before Benedict, a routine that was well established and your appetite opened not with the smell of boiled vegetables but by a beautiful service a la francaise presented by Mrs Crabtree. You quite devoured most of it leaving Benedict with his share and when he found it, he finished it in half the time you took to eat yours.
"I have some news"
"Hmmm?"
"I read the letters while we were on our Honeymoon. One from my mother saying she expects us before the season ends for one or two balls"
"That is no problem"
"One from Anthony, he asked me to keep track of some accounts"
"The ones you managed while he was on his honeymoon?"
"Those exactly" Benedict took a final sip of tea, "He asked for some help that's all and then... another letter from this professor of mine, he has reached too many families in London and has advertised my talents"
"Oh"
"Yes, he is positive I will start my practice soon"
"I thought you already did"
He blushed "Thank you"
"So, will you open a studio?"
"Perhaps, I'm thinking about it, perhaps" he chuckled "And imagine them buying my own pieces?" he chortled "That must be the best feeling ever"
You reached across the table and squeezed his hand "You better get your supplies, you had an arsenal back in London. If we visit your Mother then we shall take them"
"I shall take that painting of yours"
Your eyes widened "Please tell me you covered it"
"Is not even finished, Y/N"
"Is that an invitation for me to keep posing?"
"Help an artist in need" he smirked
Peace after the honeymoon was achieved. The newfound freedom you got after being married had a certain glow on you. You started reading more, writing and debating more... Mrs Crabtree was quite the best person to polish your argumentative skills, that woman could not hold her tongue at all. It was a month of a blissful marriage life and countless "I can't walk" mornings.
By the time you arrived in London the gates of the Bruton House opened and Hyacinth and Gregory's voice filled the echoing entrance.
"Mother?!" Benedict called out as the children reached him
"In the drawing room!"
She greeted you so warmly, she asked about the cottage and rambled about her times in it, Daphne joined later surprising the rest, she beamed high and radiant with a plump belly and a child in her arms.
"Daphne" you greeted
"Come here, you" she hugged you with her baby by the side "You ought to tell me everything"
"Let me" you tried to help her with the child by her arms "Hi Belinda" you smiled at your good memory "Well, hello beautiful"
"Brother, I must keep Y/N for myself this moment"
Benedict shrugged at the proper way his sister always talked and turned around to talk with his mother, of course not after getting a glimpse of the small creature by your arms, the way you tried to hold her properly and how you failed to keep the poor baby steady, rather bouncing it all over. And he loved it.
That night you and him, presented as married joined Lady Danbury's ball, one of the lasts of the season and where a lot of debutantes went hunting, fiercely, for a "last minute husband".
"I got mine quite fast" you joked to Violet who gave you a small nudge and left to be with Francesca
"You are funny" Benedict said by your side
"I lied…Took us years, doesn't it?"
"Years and few days" he scoffed "Don't make it sound like it was the hunt of my life"
You turned to him with squinted eyes "Oh trust me, husband, if someone was indeed hunting... it was not you"
Benedict bumped your puffy dress skirt and you giggled, he leaned down to your ear as a diamond earring adorned it "But did you like the prize?"
You took your gloved hand and cupped his cheek "The most beautiful, most handsome, and talented man of them all"
Benedict gave you a solemn kiss while the clinking of cups echoed in the ball, he took your hand and guided you away from the crowd. After some head bows and smiles you smirked at the lonely room where he was letting you enter. As the shadows appeared, the music faded behind and the smell now of paper triggered your memory.
"And what are we doing here?"
"Bringing justice" he said, his hand touching his tailcoat but he stopped "You know that since I met you your joy was and still is my joy?"
"I did not"
"And your pain is mine too"
You bit your lip and blushed "What about my love? is it yours too?"
"No, it is quite bigger I'm afraid"
"Well," you smiled "at some point something had to differ... What you got there?"
Benedict slightly shook his head at the moment and took the small book from the inside pocket of his tailcoat "This curious little thing"
"Oh" you took it, your fingers expertly finding the poem he wrote inside, a poem for you "Curious indeed"
"I thought we must leave it where we found it" he shrugged "After all, we lend it and we put part of us there"
Your fingertip grazed the binding "I like the poeticness of the act"
"I knew it"
"Tragic too"
"Why so?"
"Shouldn't we put it on our shelf?"
"And hide our story from everyone else?"
You grinned and stared at his shadowy face "Perhaps then... one of those poems became a tangible thing"
You took the book and allowed yourself to read the poem he wrote, the beautiful curves of his handwriting and the captivating meanings of each verse. You extended to him but he pushed it back to you.
"You ought to put it, you took it"
"Alright"
You placed the book right where you remember you once took it. The memory of that night embraced your chest with nostalgia and a slight sting in your eyes. You blinked and pushed the fragile papers inside, a bit deeper so no one could be seriously interested in it.
"Done"
"Good job" he smiled, his face tilted as he captured in his mind this mere moment "You want to know something more?"
"What?"
He held your hand, discarding your glove as he threw it over his shoulder, he gripped your hand skin to skin"I cannot separate where you end and I begin" he proclaimed
You only could swoon at it with a smile, you allowed him to go first as you took the knob "And that is fine by me" you said, your hand pulled the door to the library and it closed "Because between you and me, there is truly not an end, is it?"
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cobaltperun · 3 days
Note
R and Tara have been friends for a long time, you could even call them best friends.
Ever since moving to new York, Tara made a habit to go to parties more and getting more shit faced.
In that state she is more handsy and flirtatious and Y/N is the person who suffers from her wrath.
I hope it's a prompt you can work with 😊
Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts
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Tara Carpenter x GN Reader (Request)
Masterlist
Word count: 0.9k
You couldn't believe this was happening again. What was it? Like the fifth time this month? It was eleventh! Barely a third of the month has passed and you already had to drag Tara back to her and Sam's apartment for the fifth time!
"You're really adorable, you know," your drunk best friend blurted out, like she usually did. "I like your eyes," she continued. "And ears," not exactly the first thing you usually heard, but she was drunk, and it wasn't the first time she was like this when drunk. "I wanna wear your shirt," she was a hundred and ten percent, way too drunk. "You're real quiet," she hiccupped for the hundredth time since you got her to leave the party with you.
"And you're drunk like a skunk," you sighed, stuck between being done with this bullshit and not wanting to let anything bad happen to Tara while she was this drunk.
"I'm not a slut," she slurred as you gave up on dragging her and just lifted her up on your back. It would be faster anyway.
"Not a skank, Tara, a skunk, the animal, the stinky one," you corrected her.
Tara hummed. "'Kay, I don't stick either," she sounded sleepy, well, at least you hoped she'd fall asleep, and you could avoid the other... downsides of taking care of drunk Tara.
"You reek of alcohol," you still told her and she just leaned her head on your shoulder and mumbled something unintelligible.
With a sigh you reached her building and began the daunting task of climbing up the stairs to her apartment. Sam was upstairs, being pacified by Mindy and Chad while you took it upon yourself to bring Tara back. Because, for some reason, she tended to listen to you, maybe it was because you've been best friends for years now.
You felt like your soul would evacuate from your exhausted body as you reached the apartment doors and leaned your forehead against the bell, too tired to do it properly.
"Damn it, Y/N, you don't have to push the bell into the wall!" Mindy exclaimed as she swung the door open but you just grumbled and staggered toward Tara's bedroom.
"Scold her when she wakes up, Sam, I wanna get her to bed and crash on your couch," you had a long day, you just wanted to take care of Tara and go to sleep.
Sam probably gave up only because Tara was sleeping on your back.
You opened the doors to Tara's room and went inside. Luckily, Chad turned the lights on for you and closed the doors.
"Tara," you tried to wake her up as you just barely managed to get her on her bed and start taking her shoes off. "T," you tried again. "The Captain Dook Baba," you sighed and she sat up like she was a vampire rising from the grave, or Wednesday fucking Addams or something.
"It's The Babadook," she corrected you and you just shrugged.
"Great, whatever, just get changed," you sighed, dropping down on her bed just for a moment, just one minute for your legs to recover from all those stairs.
"You want to watch me change?" she teased you, cackling drunkenly as she turned onto her side and began brushing her hand along your arm.
"Tara," you groaned, not really in the mood to handle her drunken flirting and touching. She was your best friend, but, well, you were in love with her, but you never did anything to show it, fearing you'd ruin your friendship. And when she flirted with you while she was this drunk you kept turning her down, because she never showed interest when she was sober, so you didn't want her to do anything she'd regret.
"It's okay if you do," she leaned in, whispering close to your ear and you just buried your face in the blanket.
"Fuck, how do others deal with you when you're this drunk?" you complained, not even wanting to imagine how the twins dealt with her. Well, Chad probably gets flustered and Mindy probably just shuts Tara down right away
"Hmm, only with you," she somehow managed to get up and you heard her taking her clothes off.
"Wha?" you mistakenly turned your head just when she took her shirt off and quickly turned away.
"I only act like this with you, cause I really, really like you, Y/N," she sounded a bit less drunk as she said that, and your heart skipped a beat, but you couldn't dare to hope, you just sighed and waited until she changed and got into her bed again.
Only then did you get up. "Damn it, Tara, why can't you just say that when you're sober," you sighed, believing her to be asleep. She was always quick to fall asleep when she was this drunk.
"'Cause you keep rejecting me when I'm drunk and I don't wanna get rejected when I'm sober," she mumbled and you looked back at her, surprised.
You stared at her, somehow her eyes looked much clearer, though it was probably a temporary thing. You still leaned closer to her and pushed a strand of her hair out of her face. "Tell me again when you're sober, or don't, I might flirt first for once," you told her and she nodded sleepily, a drunk, but happy smile, appeared on her face as she got more comfortable on her bed.
A/N: Well, Anon, I hope you like this, I took some liberties with the request, as you can see, so I hope you don't mind.
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formulawolff · 2 days
Text
i. alkaline - t.w.
pairing: female driver! x toto wolff
word count: 2.7k
warnings: cursing, significant age-gap, power imbalances, slow burn, eventual smut, inappropriate work relationships, mentions of infidelity, drug/alcohol use, use of common fic tropes
synopsis: as the first american female driver for formula one, you are thrust into the competitive world of racing. when you are approached by a team principal willing to make a deal, you presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.
author's note: this is my first f1 related fic, so i may have made some errors in terminology. the title is based on the song alkaline by sleep token. i recommend listening while reading! please, please, please let me know if you like the fic! i plan on making this my first f1 series :')
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racing was never in the cards. 
well, racing a nearly 1,800 pound car was never in the cards. 
especially at speeds reaching two hundred miles an hour. 
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
yet, here you were, shaking james’ hand, beaming as the cameras flashed. there were a flurry of voices, all of them nearly trembling with excitement, relief, and well, hope. if you were able to accomplish eighth place today, what did that mean for the future of williams racing? 
would williams be a sizable contender for the 2025 constructors’ championship? would they be able to squash the disbelief? the doubts? hell, if you kept this up, there was a chance that you could get williams into the top ten of the 2024 championship. 
were you what they had been missing for so long? 
were you the key to their future success?
“great job,” james’ voice is nearly hoarse, more than likely from all of the celebration, “you wouldn’t believe what they’re saying about you.” 
“probably nothing great,” you scoff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i’m sure that everyone is claiming i didn’t deserve it.” 
“quite the contrary,” a chuckle bubbles up from his throat, “they all adore you.” 
“was it because i gave the camera the finger?” 
“no,” there is a slight twinkle in his eyes, quite the contrary from what you were used to, “they love you because you’re you. there is no one in this sport who is quite like you.
there’s an authenticity that cannot be replaced. it’s obvious you have a true passion for racing. it shows on the track. good job, today.” 
heat flourished into your cheeks, tears welling up at james’ words. after years of being ridiculed by team principals, attacked by fans, and bashed by the media, praise was something to be cherished. it was always welcomed warmly, your heart swelling as james brought you in for a sweaty embrace. 
“thank you, james,” the words are slightly muffled as he squeezes you gently, “you know how much that means to me. thank you for believing in me.”
“of course,” james murmurs, rubbing your back ever so slightly, “great job, american girl. you deserve this. go do some interviews, flash that beautiful grin of yours, and then get some rest. you need it.”
“no partying?” you arch your brow, “i think i deserve a drink or two.”
“maybe a little bit,” another chuckle rings out, “i just don’t want to see any press about it in the morning. that’s the last thing we need after our victory today.”
“right, right,” you nod your head, saluting the principal, “aye, aye captain.”
“it’s principal,” james shoots you a wink before turning to several engineers, the group getting swept away into the chaos. 
no matter how well the team did, there was always chaos after a race. it was typical, routine even. there was always the pit crew cleaning up, shouting to one another as the fans trickled out of the stands. engineers milled about, tablets in hand, murmuring to one another, pointing out aspects of the car that needed improvement. there was always some piece of the car that could be adjusted, a slight tweak or advancement. it could make the car faster, or it could only lead to inevitable disaster. 
exhaling, you stroll out of the paddock, the dread of facing the press weighing down every step. 
you could turn around, and hide in the paddock. 
however, this was part of being a driver. simply a requirement of the job. press was an essential aspect of formula one. how else would the world know how you felt after that race? how else would information about driver contracts, car modifications, disqualifications be shared?
how else would the world have known about the first american female formula in formula one?  
you had to at least thank the press for that. 
even if it was shared before your official announcement that you were joining williams racing for the 2023 racing season. 
“there she is!” a voice calls out, light and airy. 
the corners of your lips tug into a smile as you see daniel ricciardo jogging towards you. before you know it, his arms are wrapping around your frame, holding you tight. he’s sweaty, per usual, but you accept the gesture, suppressing a giggle as he sways you back and forth. 
“i knew you could do it! i knew you could do it!”
“don’t puncture her lungs, please,” another voice chimes in, “i would like to keep her around, you know.”
daniel releases you promptly, placing a swift peck on your cheek, “no need to fret alex. i’m not that mighty.”
“i’m more worried about contracting any diseases from the land down under,” scrunching your nose, you wave your fingers at daniel, earning yet another laugh from the australian. 
“the only disease you’d contract are my insanely good looks.”
“here we go again,” alex rolls his eyes, “are we ready to face the press or what?”
“i think so,” daniel shrugs, “go ahead, alex. we’ll follow you.”
alex shoots you an inquiring glance, but begins to walk in the direction of the conference room. once he was a reasonable distance away, daniel clears his throat. 
“someone seemed a little jealous.”
“i wouldn’t say jealous,” you can’t help but defend alex, “he’s probably a little bitter.”
“fifteenth place is nowhere as good as eighth,” daniel points out, the notes in his tone solemn, “he’s been there a few years and seen subpar results. you came in last year and have pretty damn good ones. i’m sure he can’t help but feel a little bit of envy.” 
“maybe he just had a bad race.”
“you say that every–” daniel begins, but he’s swiftly cut off as you pull open the door to the conference room. 
all around, cameras flash, reporters chirp out questions, and phones are immediately pointed in your direction. sucking in a deep breath, you settle on the couch next to daniel, max verstappen across from you. he shoots you a thumbs up, complemented with a wide smile. alex was on your right, fiddling a loose thread. 
confusion consumes you momentarily once you realize that max was the only one from the podium to remain in the conference room. checo and carlos were not present. so why was he still here? 
daniel passes you the mic, placing it on your lap. a shit-eating grin plasters his face, and you grimace. of course he was going to make you speak first. hesitantly, you pick up the mic, clearing your throat. 
“hello, everyone. any questions?”
immediately a reporter butts in, “how does it feel to not only be one of the only women competing in formula one, but the first american woman to place in a race?”
your hand tingles as you hold up the mic, trembling slightly. public speaking was never your forte. fuck you, daniel. 
“w-well,” you curse yourself for stuttering, “i take a lot of pride in the way i compete, especially as such a trailblazer for women who love the sport. i’m aware that there is a lot of unrest and outcry concerning my gender and how i’m not ‘supposed’ to be competing with the men–”
“i think she’s a worthy opponent,” max’s voice interjects, “she competes at the same intensity as we do, if not more. she is going to be standing next to me on a podium in a matter of weeks. i’ve never met someone so driven to win or passionate about the sport. 
we pay no attention to her gender. it doesn’t affect us. we pay attention to her character. i do not want to speak for her, but i am sure she would appreciate it if you all refrained from the gender based questions. ask her about the race.”
as he finishes speaking, his eyes drift back to you, sparkling ever so slightly. his cheeks were tinged a pink hue from the passionate sentiment, and you couldn’t help but just sit there, frozen with disbelief. 
max verstappen, three time world champion, one of the best drivers to ever step foot on a formula one track, publicly praised you. in a room full of journalists, no less. 
sure, you were friendly with max. since there were only twenty drivers, most of you were close, on and off the grid. you had exchanged numerous conversations with max over the last year, but you were still a little intimidated by the dutch driver. 
of course, who wouldn’t be? he was a dominant force on the track, winning nineteen of the twenty-two races last season. 
so yeah, when he just did nothing but send you the uttermost praise in a room bustling with the press, you were going to a little starstruck.
“do you have any additional remarks to maxs’ comments?” a reporter snaps you out of your trance, “you appear to be a little off-put by what he just said.”
blinking, you bring the mic to your lips, “no, i actually appreciate what he said. maybe that means you guys will finally take me seriously.”
“are you under the impression that formula one does not take you seriously?”
as the reporter baits you to respond, a twinge of frustration brews in your stomach, churning it into a knot. sucking in a sharp breath, you focus your attention to the reporter. 
“no, that is not what i said. it is the simple fact that i have been working my ass off this last year to be a competitive racer. i’ve worked tirelessly with williams racing to place. i’ve been trying to earn points for my team because i believe in my team and i want us to succeed. yet nearly every day i wake up, someone on social media posts some bullshit or bashes me for competing. 
i’ve been making a name for myself, and look where it has gotten me. you all are more concerned about my gender than the race i just had. i think it’s a bit frivolous to be more invested in my gender than my racing. so yeah, when the three time world champion says something good about me, i would hope that you guys listen to it.”
there’s a few gasps from a few reporters, and you can’t help but notice all of the beady red lights on the cameras. of course that was all recorded. of course it was going to be blasted all over social media these next couple of days. 
so much for good press. 
setting down the mic, you lean over to daniel. the words are low enough so that only he can hear, “i’m done here.”
“i don’t blame you,” the aussie plucks the mic out of your hands, “get out of here. cool down. i’m sorry about that prick.”
“don’t worry about it,” you mutter, cheeks burning hot with sheer anger, “i’m leaving before i cuss them all out.”
“atta girl,” daniel winks, “i’d like to see that, though.”
“not now,” you bite your lip, “i need to bite my tongue.”
as you get up, max’s gaze is full of sympathy. alex’s mouths, i’m so sorry, disappointment painting his features. walking across the stage, daniel’s words drown in your ears. 
balling your fists together, the tingly sensation resides as you march towards your motorhome. tears blur your vision, strings of curses filling the air as you walk. after that little incident in the press room, james was not going to be happy. of course, after everything you accomplished today, it was diminished somehow. 
by an asshole reporter, at that. 
flinging open the door to the motorhome, you resist the urge to just scream. it would not help much, but god would it be cathartic. however, there were more important things to be addressed. you needed to decompress and settle down. 
as much as you wanted to celebrate with a few drinks, a shower, some comfy clothes, and your bed were more appealing. 
maybe a glass of wine in bed wouldn’t hurt. 
as you unzip your fire suit, a knock at the door disturbs the silence. 
shit. just as you were finally getting settled. 
groaning, you spin on your heel, making your way to the door. 
“daniel, i swear to fucking god. i don’t want to talk right now–”
however, it was not daniel standing at the entrance of your motorhome. 
before you was torger wolff, also known as toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas. 
donning a white team button-up, the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his muscular build. inky black slacks were on his lower half, making him appear taller than he already was. fluffy brunette hair stood up on nearly all ends, messy from the stress and chaos of the race.
however, there was no denying he was handsome. with sharp, angular features, and wrinkles scoured in his face over the years, it gave him a powerful yet stoic aura. 
like his name suggested, he was like a wolf, poised and eager to pounce.
yet, you were more focused on his eyes. a brilliant, warm, mocha-hued gaze framed by thick, dark lashes. and they were peering right at you, taking in the sight of you in your half-zipped fire suit, a black long sleeve underneath. 
your eyes widen, a hand covering your mouth. sheer embarrassment courses through you, heat flooding your cheeks, trickling down your neck, “i – oh my god. um, oh my god, i am so fucking sorry.”
clearing his throat, he arches a brow, “did i come at a bad time?”
“no,” you shake your head, perhaps a little quickly, “no, no, no. please, come in. how rude of me.”
there is no readable expression across the austrian’s features, his lips pucking ever so slightly, “it won’t be long, i promise.”
swallowing a lump in your throat, you step back, inviting the principal in to the motorhome. you lead him to the kitchen, gesturing to a barstool, “you can sit here if you’d like.”
he glances at the stool, yet does not sit. your brows furrow as he remains standing. leaning against a counter, you fold your arms across your chest. 
“is there a reason you stopped by?”
“as you know,” toto begins, “lewis is leaving mercedes after the 2024 season. he will be joining ferrari in 2025. to put it simply, i am on the hunt for my second driver.”
your lips purse, “i’m not sure why you came to me. you would have better luck with carlos. he’s looking for a team. i made a verbal commitment to james. i’ll be staying with williams through 2026.”
“is that so?” toto inquires, taking a step towards you, “and why are you choosing to stay with a team that limits your potential?”
the question takes you aback, “i’m not sure you what mean.”
rolling his eyes, he tuts, “williams racing is nowhere as near as competitive of a team as ferrari, redbull, mclaren, or mercedes. for years they’ve been piddling around, finishing at the bottom of the championship. yes, their drivers are talented, but they are not given opportunities to thrive.”
his comment sends another wave of anger coursing through you, your fists balling at your sides, “you have no idea what you’re talking about–”
“actually, i do. i’ve been around a long time. i’ve seen a lot more than you ever have. james is a great team principal, but you are not going to compete if you stay at williams. eventually, you’ll be like alex. you’ll finish with mediocre results. you’ll lose faith in the team who you once cherished so deeply. you’ll be ridiculed even more by the world of formula one, even more so than you already are.”
gritting your teeth, you take a step forward, “i think it’s time for you to leave.”
“what?” toto cocks his head, “did i say something you didn’t want to hear, little dove? did i strike a chord?”
“i think you’re just projecting,” you maintain your composure as the principal scoffs, “that’s exactly what happened to lewis, and you’re afraid it’s going to happen to george.”
“you’re a smart girl,” it takes a moment for you to realize how close the two of you had suddenly gotten.
he was in very close proximity now, only a few inches apart, looking down at you with a wickedly smug grin, “and i know that you’re very aware that formula one is a business. i have to maintain the mercedes reputation and acquire a driver who will bring us home podiums.” 
“i think you’ll have that luck with carlos,” breaking away, your gaze settles on the door of the motorhome. 
fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards. 
“but i want you to drive for mercedes. i want to make you a world champion.”
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆
please let me know if you would like to be tagged! thank you for reading! <3
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noveauskull · 3 days
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How Male WUWA Characters React To You Touching Their Tacet Marks! (SFW AND NSFW)
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JIYAN:
SFW
Would notice how you've been staring at his back a lot and ask if you needed something from him or if you wanted to tell him something important
He gets a little surprised by how you immediately just told him that you wanted to touch his tacet mark and would ask you why, but he would let you touch it anyways
Probably the most sensitive one out of every other WUWA man since his is literally on his back
He would blush so hard that his ears would go red if you kept touching his mark for more than 20 seconds
When you first touched his mark he would feel a little uncomfortable and tell you when you need to stop so that he doesn't get too uneasy
But after a few more times he enjoys your touch way too much and often times would ask you for a hug so that he could feel your hands touch his back again
NSFW
When hes pounding himself into you, sometimes you would purposely brush your hand on his back to where his tacet mark is so that he would falter in his movements just for a bit, so that you can catch your breath
Sometimes you forget his tacet mark is on his back, so when your hands are clinging onto him you would accidentally lightly scratch him just a bit to where his tacet mark lines would be, which he surprisingly took well
He might be slightly masochistic (at least you awakened that part of him)
Of course doing it too harshly would hurt like shit, but when you brush your nails against it, he gets shivers
In conclusion, this man loves it when you touch his back
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MORTEFI:
SFW
Would straight up ask you why you keep staring at his chest
He'd look at you with wide eyes when you tell him that you wanted to feel his tacet mark that was on his right chest, but agree almost too quickly because he believes your reason would be because you wanted to "experiment" something
Most likely you're the first person to ever touch him like that
Gets shivers when your fingers lightly brush against him, then tells you that its alright to just completely put your hand over it
When you do put your hand over his chest though, you can feel his heartbeat pounding real fast
You try to ignore the blush on his face, but it was way too obvious
NSFW
You like to lick his chest, especially his tacet mark just to see the way he reacts
His attempts to hide his tiny grunts is super cute to you
He would say things like "Ok, that's enough" but he wouldn't push you away, leaving room for the idea of teasing him that he enjoys the feeling of your warm mouth against his tacet mark
Likes it when you nibble on it a bit, or use some teeth to lightly scrape his skin
The way your mouth would travel to his neck, collarbones, nipples, abs, literally everywhere but his tacet mark would drive him crazy
You'd make sure to leave a bite mark right over his tacet mark, that way he would have to cover up his chest in a bit more effort to prevent anyone else from seeing it (cause we all know him showing off his chest is a SLUT MOVE)
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CALCHARO:
SFW
We all know this tough guy is actually super obedient and literally just a baby
Which explains why he loves forehead kisses A LOT
Literally praise him for doing anything and he'd ask for a forehead kiss on top of your compliments, and you'd happily oblige
You asked him if he ever face palms himself when hes disappointed and he just stares at you with furrowed eyebrows in confusion, wondering why you would ask him that
The first time you touched his tacet mark was when you asked him if you could touch his hair, and he would be fine with it since he was aware of how much you love his hair and how jealous you were by how beautiful it was
NSFW
Because he loves your touch on his tacet mark, he very much prefers to go down on you than fuck your hole all the time
He does this because he likes how your hands scurry around to grab his head and push him away when you are getting overstimulated
Everytime you finish you would pat his head and that would get him riled up
When he does pound you, he would place his forehead against yours and stare deeply into your eyes while youre crying out on how big he is
He also really loves burying his face in between your chest and rubbing his tacet mark on it to feel your heartbeats
Calcharo is basically a big beast that you tamed
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AALTO:
SFW
You actually didn't ask him if you could touch his tacet mark, he just so happened to have something on his shoulder that you helped brush off, and your hand accidentally brushed against his tacet mark
He reacted by flinching a little. When you asked if he was alright he just said that he was fine. You couldn't really tell if he was fine or not since he had his glasses on.
But you can see his ears turning red, so you knew you just turned a switch on for him, but you still haven't figured out that it was because you touched his tacet mark
You slowly notice more things on Aalto's shoulder, on the exact same spot. Sometimes you try to ignore it but Aalto would make you want to brush it off somehow by asking things like "Is there anything on me?" or "You've been staring at my shoulder for a while, y'know?"
NSFW
Loves it when you give him hickeys, he really enjoys it when you suck on his tacet mark the most, cause that's when his sensitivity heightens up a lot
You know exactly how much pressure to give him when you playfully bite him on his tacet mark, especially if you wanted to get him hard and going
He lowkey wants you to choke him while he fucks you, the pressure of his tacet mark pushing into the nerves of his flesh makes his vision cloudly and his pupils grow
When you're too fucked out to choke him, he would forcefully grab the back of your head and push it against his neck to make you lick and suck it while his cock is molding its shape into you
He does not hold back
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YUANWU:
SFW
Yuanwu is a patient man, so you don't hesitate in asking him if you could touch his tacet mark that was right on his neck
Of course, he sees no reason to disagree. But for some reason when you touch him, he freezes and it takes you a minute before he clears his throat and apologizes for suddenly not responding
You weren't dumb enough to realise that touching his tacet mark made him feel something, so sometimes, you would get cozy with him and wrap your arm around his neck
The action would have him tipping his hat to cover his face, remaining silent the entire time you go chattering about how you want to go have some tea with him at his boxing gym
Sure, Yuanwu is a patient man, but his patience does run thin
NSFW
He'd actually keep your hands away from his neck while he's fucking your brains out
This is all cause you knew that touching his tacet mark would get him hard, and you decided to do it on a public area
Since you did it on purpose you have to face the consequences and wait until he's done fucking all your senses out of your body
When you two are finally done, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his tacet mark, since you two were in private he doesn't mind you getting intimate with his mark
You didn't expect this, but sometimes you would be able to pull a noise or two from his mouth
Something you really like doing to him is having his back on your chest while you're fucking your hand on his cock, then planting kisses on his tacet mark, leaving him groaning your name
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That's it folks im out of here, its like 5 am where I live so yeah :> I would add more of what I think everyone would react to when you touch their tacet marks but im pooped for the day
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cherriesformatt · 3 days
Text
boston || matt sturniolo
matt x fem!reader
summary: matt takes reader home to meet his parents and he takes her ice skating for the first time where he used to play hockey
warnings: pure fluff
word count: 1,6k
a/n: Hi!! I combined two requests I hope you're okay with that! I tried my best! Ily <3 I will read proof after work!
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based on:
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🍒
"Hey...do you want some?" Matt asked me when he opened some kind of cookies.
We were on the plane with his brothers right behind us. It was my first time flying to Boston with them and I am going to meet his family. I was shitting my pants and felt like throwing up because we were hour from landing.
"No, thanks" I smiled at him and went back to my book.
We were flying first class and it was nice and quiet here. I am glad because I was able to read and it kept my mind from stressing out.
"You don't have to be scared, they going to love you I told you that already" Matt said and put his hand on my thigh and stroked it.
"You can't possibly know that" I closed my book and looked at him with my worried eyes.
Matt smiled at me and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed my nose which made me giggle.
"Yes, I do. Justin is chill and our parents even more. Please Marylou probably already has our picture on the wall and Jimmy will want to take you fishing and hope you will say yes because we always say no" He laughed.
I laughed too.
"Please say no because if you say yes we all will need to go" Nick's head popped out of nowhere in the middle of our seats.
It calmed me down just a little bit. But as we landed it all came back. My palms were sweaty and I was fixing my hair and hoodie every three seconds as we waited for our bags in the baggage claim. Chris made me and Matt to take a picture with "Welcome to Boston" sign. And I probably looked like I saw a ghost.
"Justin just landed too and Mom is going to be here in 20 minutes" Nick said looking at his phone.
We collected our luggage and waited on the chairs for their brother.
"It was not hard to find you...Nick you look ridiculous it is so warm outside snd you wearing fucking Uggs" I heard and my eyes followed the voice.
Justin walked up to us. He was a little shorter than his little brothers and had very similar style to Chris. I wouldn't say he looked similar to them but they only shared a mom and also I knew how Justin looked like from the pictures and videos.
They said hi to their brother and he brought so much energy and made everyone laugh. I could see how boys missed their brother a lot.
"And you must be y/n, it is nice to finally meet you. This one does not shut up about you" He embrace me with a warm hug and I smiled hugging him back.
"That would be me. Its nice to meet you too Justin" I said.
"Smart choice, this one can drive and doesn't talk too much" He joked and I laughed.
"Okay let's go...mom is here" Nick said and we went outside to look for their van.
When we found the car I tried to keep my cool. But it was just so normal to be stressed about it. I never did that before. Meet my partners parents. I never felt about anyone as I felt about Matt. He was so important to me that I just needed for his family to accept me because I knew how much his family was important to him.
We all were friends for almost two years now. Me and Matt started dating like 7 months ago but it was going on for longer than that. We were both just too scared to confess our feelings but one day our friends just couldn't stand us and they set us up with a date. And we talked and talked about feelings for hours and there we are now. I am meeting his parents.
"Hi kids! I missed you so much!" Their mom gave them a hug and a kiss and I stand next to them smiling at how adorable it was.
"Hi honey, you're even more pretty in real life... welcome! I hope the flight wasn't bad for you. Matt told me you do not like flying that much" She gave me a warm smile and hugged me too.
"Thank you Ms. Sturniolo... No, it was all great I am so happy to be here" I said and her aura just made me not stress at all anymore.
"Oh please, call me Marylou, get in, choose the best seat before they all start to fight" She laughed.
Boys put all our stuff in the trunk and got in the back so I did seat in the front with their mom. She was asking me about myself and everything else. The conversation was very easy with her. All the way home we were just talking and catching up.
When we got to their house all the brothers just walked in and straight away were met with their dog. Trev was so happy to see them. He was wiggling his tail.
"Oh.. brothers are back Trevor...look at that happy boy" Their mom smiled.
"And Matty brought you new best friend" She aded happily and I smiled and kneeled to give Trevor my hand to sniff.
"Hi buddy I heard so much about you...you're so cute...oh yes you are" I smiled when he let me pet him.
"Probably more than about me, huh?" Their dad walked out from the living room and smiled.
"Hi everyone!" He said and each of his boys hugged their dad hello.
"Good Morning.." I smiled standing up from the floor.
"Hi y/n, I'm Jimmy" He smiled at me and I shook his hand gently and he stroked my arm warmly.
"It is so nice to see you... We were waiting to meet you I am so glad you could visit with boys. " He said and I smiled even more.
"Me too..." I truly said.
"Okay... we are going to put the stuff away and rest a little bit" Matt said.
"Yes.. You guys go, sweetheart if you would ever need anything let me know... I put extra stuff in their bathroom for you and please feel like it is your house" Marylou said and I smiled.
"Thank you..." I said.
We went to Matt's room and I smiled.
"Your parents and brother are just as you said... I am sorry I was stressing out so much. And your house is just so warm and feels like family and love" I said looking at him.
"I told you... Yes, I love coming back home...nowhere feels like here and now that you are here. I have all I need" He kissed me gently and I wrapped my arms around him.
"I love you.."He said when he moved away and I smiled.
"I love you too" I said back and he smiled and kissed my nose.
He always did that and I loved it. He was so cute for that.
"Okay... I will show you whole house later, you go to the bathroom first and than we can have a nap if you want or whatever. Mom said we can eat dinner together" He said and I nodded.
I loved being in Boston. First few days we all spend together. They were showing me around but also we had family movie nights and game nights. I felt very welcomed and part of the family. Their family was everything I ever wanted for my future family.
"Where are we going?" I asked one evening when Matt told me to dress warmer and take a hat.
"Oh.. remember how you told us you never ice skated before?" Chris smiled at me.
"No way...."I said.
"Oh yes way! We kinda booked our old ice ring for the evening" Nick said and I looked at them.
"Thats so cool! I cant wait to see you guys on ice" I said.
"Thats what they said about you" Nate laughed from the back.
He was also going with us.
Once we were there boys collected all the stuff they needed from the trunk and we went in.
"Here I bought this for you. I will help you put them on" Matt said handing me a box with a smile.
"You bought me ice skates? Matt..."I said and pouted my lips.
He kissed my lips and smiled.
"I always wanted to take you and I do not who actually wanted to see you on ice more me or my brothers" He laughed.
We sat on the bench and he helped be put on the skates after he put his own.
"Ready?" He asked and I looked at rest of the group already skating on ice. They were fast. Matt reached for me with his arms.
"Okay.. but do not let them run me over” I said standing up and not letting go of Matt's arms.
"I would never" He laughed and we slowly entered the ice.
"Yes!! Go y/n!" Nick clapped his hands for me and I smiled but concentrated on keeping myself up. He was filming me.
"Slowly...move your legs like you would roller-skate, you did that before so it should be easier" Matt said.
I did as he asked me and I was able to move myself. He let go of one of my arms.
"I think I got it!" I said happily but it caused me to lose my balance and I somehow fell on my bum.
"Ah..baby are you okay?" Matt helped me up and all of them gathered around me.
"Yes... guys I like fell skating 1 mile per hour and you gathered here like I was gonna die here” I laughed.
We spent all evening on ice and I got okay to the point where Matt wasn't scared that I am going to kill myself. They were also filming for a video. I helped them with the camera and was cheering from the bleachers.
I had so much fun. Here and in general. I already knew Boston had a special place in my heart. Seeing boys how they were here with their family and friends. I knew I would always want to be back here with Matt.
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woodland-gremlin · 1 day
Text
Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 6
First Previously AU Summary
“‘Even’ nothing. Now we are going to drop this, summon the new King, beg them for forgiveness and for them to deal with Trigon, and fix those disastrous laws!” Constantine declared while pulling out a book with a strange aura out of his coat pocket.
Red Robin internally sighed in relief. They were finally getting somewhere. He had been worried that they would be stuck getting integrated until Trigon was right on top of them. Not that it would stop them from getting questioned after the whole fiasco was over, but, small mercies.
From the way Batman was glaring at Supernova and Red Robin it was even more obvious that the Bat wouldn’t let it go. The only thing stopping him being the pressing matter with Trigon and the occult magician being very willing to yell at him if he kept poking. Though it did make Red Robin wonder how he planned to do so, it wasn’t like he lived at the manor anymore. No one but Alfred noticed that the only time they saw him was at the cave, and even that was rare. Really makes one question about the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ title that Batman held. Danny certainly doesn’t think so with all his nicknames for him, and after the last few years he was inclined to agree. You really shouldn’t meet your heroes.
The Laughing Magician worked and while watching him make the summoning circle Red Robin and Supernova were suddenly glad that neither offered to make it. If they did they might have never stopped getting questioned. Even Constantine would have probably joined them with how differently their summoning circle would be. While the con man made an intricate circle with the title of Ghost King being the main factor, with candles placed at significant points and fancy offerings, the two boyfriends had a much simpler approach. The biggest differences being name and title. They call Danny by name, which makes it significantly easier than a broad title to summon him. Add on to the fact that most of the titles that Constantine are using are only Danny’s by default the ease in summons is a lot easier. Though them being his boyfriends and offering snacks plays a big factor in it too.
The occult magician then began to chant in Esperanto. Candles began to flicker, changing to Relam’s green. The room’s temperature began to drop, frost creeping across the floor and walls. Wind that shouldn’t be possible in a space station whipped around, flipping Batman and Superman’s capes over their heads. A neon green crack appeared in the air above the summoning circle. Claws clutching the tear in reality before ripping it further.
Out from the tear in reality stepped out an ethereal being. White hair that moved like it was underwater. Lavender skin with freckles spaced out like constellations. Bright green lighting birch scars crawling over their body, cutting all the up to their brow. Eyes glowing the same erie color with the one the scar cut through being that singular color, sclera and all. A crown seemingly made of aurora lights and ice, radiating power. A fur lined coat seemingly made from space only added to the otherworldliness, A ring shaped like a skull, signaling the being as one of death. Armor with small dents here and there showing that it isn’t just for decoration. That this being that they summoned was a fighter, a King forged in battle.
 Everyone but Red Robin and Supernova froze. They thought that they were prepared. They knew that they would be powerful, enough that they could rule over beings like Trigon. But no words could have prepared them for the aura bearing down on them. All their bravo was drained out of the minute they were subjected to the King’s presence. Aquaman was especially shaken. He was a King as well but he felt like nothing compared to the one in front of him. Like a big fish in a small pond thrust to face the ruler of the ocean.
“Were you the ones that summoned me, freeing from the bane that is paperwork?” the being asked.
To be continued . . .
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trashmouth-richie · 2 days
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 : part 2
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꧁ eddie x female reader  :: read part 1 here
a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain
listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)
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summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope. 
5.6k triggers: 18+ only, smut, piv no condom, oral m&f receiving, loneliness, hard times heartache, finding yourself, humor about rocky mountain oysters 🐂 🦪 etc.
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Indigo thunderheads belt a rhythm of applause across the Schell Creek Range. Strikes of lightning shred the sky into a kaleidoscope of colors, sharp acidic white and lavender swim in the night sky. The temperature had dropped enough to create the perfect recipe for a late summer storm, and Eddie’s truck was in the center of it. 
  The windows had been fogged up for a while now, the heat from your skin causing the condensation to build across the windshield. Frustration laid sourly beneath your surface, aching for his touch, high on his movements and the way he kept licking his bottom lip.  
  The tension bubbled and boiled so hot you could barely handle the extra heat emitting from your body. 
Eddie had readjusted himself more times than he probably had in any part of junior high. A single glimpse of your legs uncrossing and recrossing would start the process all over again. 
  You tried to busy yourself with counting the yellow dashes on the road, naming the fifty states in alphabetical order, but nothing- nothing, was stopping that steady roar of want.
  Rain had pelted the windshield in steady drops, but the last ten minutes had increased into a torrential downpour, just enough for the windshield wipers to have a hard time keeping up. There was simply no outrunning this storm. 
  “Shit,” Eddie hums, squinting at the disappearing road, “we’re gonna have to pull over, gettin’ hard to see.”  
  The small talk between you and Eddie had been just that today. Miniscule conversations that were cut short with one word answers, and longing glances so thick you had to physically peel your eyes from the way his throat danced when he took a sip from his water. 
  “There’s a town coming up,” you say, heart thumping your delicate finger moving along the lines of the map.
  Eddie looks at you, his throat going bone dry at the way the shadows played on your skin, and he has to swallow more than once to utter a response, “s-sounds good to me.” 
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  Another night on the road. Another shady motel that smelled of stale cigarettes and regretted decisions. The weeks behind you were spent exactly like tonight. A day filled with burning rubber on the asphalt and exploring the smallest of towns on the map you had insisted on buying. 
  Sometimes, you’d both tuck in early for the night, checking into the nearest motel with a vacancy and the promise of a hot shower. Other nights you ate a questionable cheeseburger and fries at some shithole of a bar listening to live music, nursing a beer or two. 
  No matter what the day held, Eddie’s gentlemanly ways never faltered. He always let you shower first. Offering you first dibs on the paper wrapped soaps and the mini bottles of shampoo, and you made sure to leave enough conditioner for him.
  He was traditional in that way, any diner you went to he sat facing the entrance, eyes sweeping for exits. In the motels, he slept in the bed closest to the door, there was no use arguing with him over these small little acts of preservation. Your groans of protests were met with the same kind of answer each time. Take note sweetheart, I might just be the last chivalrous guy around. 
  What Eddie didn’t realize is that he probably was. 
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  “… should have realized she was up to no good when she kept feeding me drinks all night and eyeing my ring.”
  You nearly choke on a slice of pizza you’d ordered while waiting for Eddie to get out of the shower. The bathroom door swings open and he emerges from the steamed room, wet hair beading against his bare shoulders. 
  The greased stained corners of a pizza box sat on your bed. Feet crossed beneath your legs, hair wrapped in a towel, you held up a finger and spoke with a mouthful, “Wait, wait wait. When was this?” 
  The same sweatpants he always wore to bed were slung low on his hips, showing off the gray elastic of his boxer briefs. He threw a white tank top from a pack of six over his head, and you watched as it clung to his chest still wet from his shower, hiding the silvery peek of a chain necklace. 
  “My first week leaving home,” he sighed, reaching for a slice, leaning his long frame onto his side laying on the edge of the bed, “just a tad bit naive.” 
  A laugh bubbles from your throat and you try to hide it behind your hand, “so, innocent little Eddie got his ring stolen after thinking he hit the jackpot with Tracie?” 
  “No no, this was Tiffany,” he said, chucking a parmesan packet at you playfully, a laugh erupting from him, “c’mon now, listen to the story.” 
  “Okay, okay!” you surrender, “what happened next?” 
  He sits up animatedly, smile stretched like taffy across his face, “well, we went back to the motel and when I woke up…truck was still there, cash never even touched. The only thing she took was the ring and the boots right off of my feet.” 
  “Nah uh… you’re lying.” 
  Eddie’s smirk grows wide, and he takes another bite of his pizza, “looked pretty dumb walking into that boot store with just socks on.” 
  You both laugh until the tears slide down your cheeks. Like old friends who had known each other for years, giggling at jokes only the two of you found funny. Eddie made you feel comfortable the second you sat in his truck, with him it wasn’t complicated. Something foreign to you, but you found it easy to adjust to his easy going ways. 
  “Alright,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “you heard all of my on the road woes, time you tell me something I don’t know.” 
  You slink further down the bed, head resting on the pillows, ankles crossed by Eddie's outstretched legs. 
  “I don’t like olives, or mushrooms.” 
  Eddie raises his eyebrows, “whoa, pump the brakes… you’re gettin’ a little too deep here.” 
  You hold up a suggestive finger in front of your smirk and he laughs, “c’mon honey, tell me why you were walkin’ on that road the day we met.” 
  Flashbacks of slamming doors and yelling voices ring loud in your ears, and you sigh, “it’s a long story.” 
  “Good thing we don’t have anywhere to be, huh?” 
  Picking at your nails you think back to the childhood— or lack thereof, that you were raised in. The anger, the hurt, the emotional pain still heavy on your chest. From the sound of his life and the way he talks about the love his parents had for one another, you doubt he wouldn’t be terrified of the demons you’d faced. 
  A slow shake from your head and you look up to his eyes in the warm auburn light. Brimmed with care and full of trust, you shudder from the intensity. 
  “No judgment here,” he says softly, laying a hand on his chest, “I promise.”
  Taking a deep breath you stare at the chipped polish on your toes, working your hands into a rub as you begin the wretched story of your life. 
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  The small town you’d seen on the map shouldn’t have been given a name at all. A one horse town would have been too much to describe the absolute barren grounds of what laid ahead of you. 
  A green sign proudly stated the name of it and the population count “8 , no services.” A building that should have been scheduled for demolition had a single light above the sign that said “vacant” flickering like morse code. Looking around, this was it, the entire motel looked to be the size of a small home. 
  Eddie eased the pickup in front of what seemed to be the front office after noticing a television glaring through a filthy window. The rain fell harder now, beating down against the truck so loud you could barely hear him as he told you to stay put.
  A large sigh heaves from your lips the second his door clicked shut. You needed to get a grip on yourself. But you can’t, finding yourself smoothing down your shirt, rummaging through your bag to rub deodorant beneath your arms. 
  Pulling down the visor, you can see the heated flush on the apples of your cheeks in the tiny cracked mirror. You’re a mess as your mind slips to the way his jeans squeezed on his ass and seem to tighten against the zipper, the flutter of his lashes when you caught him looking— your thighs shut together to find relief.
  The driver's door opens the same time you snap the visor back into place and there he stands, drenched from head to toe. A look of bewilderment on his face. The eyes that sparkled were suddenly set into a gloom as he slid behind the steering wheel and sat, staring ahead. 
  “Everything, okay?” 
  “Oh yeah, no worries, just uh.. little snag, but I have an idea,” his smile warms you from the inside out and your thighs press together tighter, air breached from your lungs as your stomach plummets. 
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Your voice grows small as you finish the lengthy tale of your life, and you wipe your runny nose against the end of the towel. 
  The radio plays Elton John’s Your Song gently in the background and you tuck your feet under your legs. Picking at the pilling fabric of the comforter, letting out a gentle morose sigh. 
  “Sorry to be a Debbie Downer.”
  Seriousness clouds his eyes, and he looks almost sad as he leans forward and hooks a finger under your chin until your eyes meet his, “dance with me?” 
  Warmth radiates from him, the feeling of home lies in the depths of his eyes. Reaching out. 
  “Here? Now?”
  He climbs from the bed leaning a hand down to yours, “yeah,” he shrugs, “I like this song.” 
  Don’t have much money but..boy, if I did
I’d buy a big house where, we both could live.
If I was a sculptor but then again no
  He stands tall above you, looking down the slope of his nose, a smile on his lips at the timid way you approach him, hands held out in an offering of you weren’t even sure of what. 
  “Just letting you know now, that I haven’t danced since the Prom, and even then it was—”
  Eddie grabs your hands and pulls you gently into him, stepping back to leave space. Your hands slither up against his biceps and land on his shoulders, thumbs flicking gently over the firm muscle there. 
  “I’ll lead,” he says, keeping his hands above your hips, touching the bottom of your ribs with his large fingers, “this okay?”
  Screaming internally, you simply nod with your eyes closed. Going solely on his touch as Eddie begins to sway you both from side to side. 
  Where you are clumsy, Eddie is surprisingly limber on his feet. His hands move you this way and that, and he chokes on his laugh when you move your feet forward when they should have gone back and your toes crush into his. 
  But the suns been quite kind while I wrote this song
it’s for people like you that keep it turned on
So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do
  Your skin is ablaze where his palms hold you tight, heart thumping in your chest in a rhythmic staccato of its own accord. His eyes look dreamy in the low light, long lashes sweeping the highs of his cheeks when he blinks. 
  You're so caught up in his beauty that you don’t hear the low murmur of his voice the first time he speaks. 
  “Sorry?”
  Eddie chuckles and you can feel it bubble from his chest, “I said, it’s nice right?” 
  “The dance?” 
  “Well,” he says with a small smirk, “that too, but I was talking about the song.” 
  Heat rises in your cheeks and you bite your lip, but he doesn’t notice because he’s soon leaning forward, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. 
  His voice is like liquid smoke, curling around you and wrapping you into the warmest embrace, one that you’d gladly die in. 
  “You’re not half bad at this,” he says with a grin that you can hear with the squeak from his cheeks.
  Leaning back you look him in the eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in the desert browns, “maybe i’ll take up line dancing.” 
  “That,” he says with a laugh, twirling you away from him in the most un-graceful way your body could move. Ankles knocking into one another, toes burning against the short carpet. “I would pay to see.” 
  You spend the rest of the song dancing and giggling at his stupid jokes and the way he whips his long hair around.
  More than just friendship brews between you. His arms held you against him, not letting you go. Eddie’s voice curls into a whisper against your ear, his barely dry hair tickling your shoulder,  “I’m happy you’re here with me, and I’m sorry you were treated that way.” 
  Your head angles into his chest, and you lay your cheek against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I’m happy to be here too.”
  The cheese had gone stone cold on the forgotten pizza, song after song you swayed back and forth until Casey Kasem started taking requests on the radio.
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  The rain seeps through your thin shirt as you stand at the door with your bag slung over your shoulder, patiently waiting for the key to work. 
  Eddie must have jiggled it into the sweet spot after a few minutes of working the handle, swinging the door open and ushering you inside just as a loud clap of thunder booms across the sky. 
  You jump on instinct and Eddie snuffs out a snort as you run your hand along the wall to find the light switch. 
  The lights sputtered and hummed to life, showcasing cobwebbed corners and illuminating the orb of dead flies. The wallpaper was peeling away from itself in long tawny strips, curled to a crisp on the edges. A sign written in cursive was crudely taped to the tv saying “out off of order”. 
  But out of all of the eyesores in the room, there was still something off. 
  One bed. 
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A week and hundreds of miles stretched on from the night you and Eddie had danced together. He noticed you smiling more, the barriers you had up were lowered,  and no matter how much he tried— he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
  The bar you had stopped at to get supper was packed. Peanut shells coated the floor and there was a fight breaking out in the back corner. Eddie’s hand warmed your lower back as he pointed you towards a small table. 
  A waitress dumped handwritten menus with faded ink at your table. He watched your eyebrows raise in question as you read the appetizers. 
  “Fresh Rocky Mountain Oysters fried in a cornmeal blend?” you questioned, “what even is that?”
  Eddie’s lips pressed tight to hide a laugh, “well they’re not real oysters… and the Rocky Mountain part is more or less a nod to where they came from.” 
  Your eyebrows tick up in confusion and then disgust as he explains just exactly how and what those “oysters” are made from. 
  “Yeah… think I’ll just stick with the cheese balls.” 
  He laughs as your mouth turns to a frown. “Good choice. The sign outside claimed they had the best bison burgers in the state, that’s what I’m gonna get.” 
  “Does that come with or without testicles?” 
  He doesn’t miss a beat, “hopefully without those suckers are expensive.” 
  Your laugh sounded loud in his soul, your smile sung to him anytime he saw it, and fuck, he wondered if you knew just how gorgeous you really were. 
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  A singular mattress. For you and for Eddie. 
  Before you can say anything Eddie’s already apologizing, “I swear, this is all they had…” he says, letting out a large sigh, wiping the rain from his face with the sleeve of his soaked shirt. 
  He shuts the door and clicks the locks into place before he moves his things to the other side of the room, “you take the bed, I’ll make do with the floor.” 
  Your brows crease and you pout in disbelief, “don’t be ridiculous Eddie, I’m not gonna let you sleep on the fl—” 
  “I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he smiles, a tired look on his face as he hauls his duffle bag into the bathroom, wet fringe sticking to his forehead, “don’t worry bout me…gonna change quick.” 
  Rifling through your bag you dress into your pajamas quickly. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t right, you would not let him sleep on the floor of this dirty room. This entire trip he had been paying for the motel stays, and you’d be damned if he was going to have a sore back because of… this. 
  A single curse is muffled through the thin walls followed by a chuckle, “hey, you can add another thing to the list of shit going wrong tonight.” 
  The carpet was damp beneath your feet as you moved to the bathroom, “what happened?” 
  Eddie throws open the door, sporting a black pair of boxer briefs sprinkled with rain drops, and nothing else besides a splatter of pink blush on his cheeks. You almost choke at the sight of him. 
  Despite the circumstances, a smile remains on his pink lips, “all of my clothes are soaked.” 
  With the burning tension and your body screaming all day in the cab of the pickup, your mind was preoccupied. Not even registering that his bag had been in the bed of the truck, soaking up every drop of rain it could into its blue canvas shell. 
  You’ve seen him bare chested before, but the way the rain clung to his skin, he looked ethereal, and your stomach lurched when he stepped around you, his arm sliding against yours with a potent electricity. 
  “We um…” your tongue felt like velcro stuck to the roof of your mouth, peeling the first layer off of it for sure as you spoke. Grabbing a pair of his jeans from his bag to hang up over the back of a dusty chair, you suggest, “we can hang your stuff up to dry, hopefully by tomorrow they’ll be alright.”
  You work quickly, pulling pants and shirts from the bag and hanging them in various places, hoping that the heat from your cheeks would subside if you didn’t look at him. 
  He holds the last pair of pants in his large hands. Holding them out he suddenly withdraws, holding the bundle of wet fabric high above his head, laughing as you reach on your tiptoes to grab them. 
  The pout on your lips makes his quirked smile spread across his cheeks as you stretch further to reach his arm. Laughter erupts from him. 
  Your thin cotton shirt is smushed into his wet chest, your breath catches in your throat when your nipples harden from the cold touch of his skin skimming over yours. He stops entirely, bringing the pants down and tossing them on the nearest chair, those deep eyes never leaving yours. 
  His hand runs the length of your arm, starting at the knob of your shoulder, trickling with feather light touches down to your fingertips, entwining them with his. Pulling you gently closer into him.
  A sigh fell from his lips so beautiful it could make Medusa blush, and you nearly passed out from holding in your own breath. 
  His other hand rubs against your cheek, calloused and strong, and your insides melt to jelly at his touch. He  presses his forehead to yours, and you move your hands around his waist, pressing your fingertips into the meat of his lower back. 
  For years you have been afraid, never trusting anyone, especially men. But with him it was different, he was gentle, kind, and caring. It was as easy as breathing, and came on as quickly as falling asleep. Here in his arms you felt content for the first time in a long while. 
  Eddie’s heart beat is thumping loud but sure. “You’re beautiful… do you know that?” 
  The heat ignites in your core as his words seep into your skin. Shaking, you clear your throat to steady yourself, “you really think so?” 
  He nods his head, “It’s been a long damn time since I left home,” he nearly whispers, “nothing left… but now that I met you, I finally know just where I’m headin’.” 
  A tear leaks from your eyes and he kisses it away. His lips felt like satin on your skin, and you sucked in a breath at the feel of them. His eyes looked into yours and he whispers, “don’t cry, sweetheart.”
  You needed him, craved to have all of bim. And you surprised yourself as you raised on your toes, pulling him towards you. His lips pressed lightly into yours and you swore your breath was taken away even though you were expecting it. You open your mouth and welcome his tongue, eyes rolling in your head as he massages it with yours. 
  Eddie’s hands wrap against your shirt, feeling your bare skin pressing you further into him as you whimper into him. 
  The carpet squashed beneath your feet as you walk backwards towards the bed, a frenzy of locked lips and wandering hands. Fingers tugging into his curls, Eddie moans against your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips. He breaks from your lips, his wet and spit licked. 
  The brown eyes you’ve been accustomed to staring in never leave yours as he sits on the bed, leaning back on his elbows. The shine of his chain gleaming in the dull light. 
  Thunder raps loud outside, wind thrashing and howling against the window. Your fingers roll against the hem of your shirt and you don’t think twice before hauling it over your head, moving towards Eddie and the impressive length bulging from his boxer briefs. Your knees touch lightly.
  His lips suck between his teeth as he drinks you in. Lazily eyeing over every curve, every imperfection, the tight peaks of your nipples. 
  You climb over, your knees sinking into the bed on either side of his narrow hips, resting on his lap. With one hand cupping his cheek, you lower your lips to his skin. 
  He groans when you kiss the hollow of his throat, kissing up his neck until you nip at his ear lobe, sucking that small silver hoop into your mouth.
  “So pretty like this,” he murmurs into your ear, “like an angel.” His hands roam over your skin with blunt nails. Up and down your back his touch electrifies you. Your own noises unravel as he grows beneath you. 
  Murmuring his name, you arch into his touch, elongating your neck until his ravenous hands skim the delicate skin of your breasts, thumbs rolling against your nipples. His mouth attaches to your skin and you whimper when he rolls you over and lays you down on the dusty comforter. 
  Your ankles cross behind his back as he grinds into you, kissing you so deeply you couldn’t get enough. He was gentle with you, waiting for your nods of approval as he slipped your panties off. He trailed kisses down your cheek to your neck as his fingers swirled up and up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their trek. 
  Thunder and lightning competed for attention outside but you were lost in Eddie. Wrapping your fingers in his hair when he circled your clit, whimpering when he slipped his finger into your wet sex. 
  You weren’t sure where your moans ended and his began, but when he added a second finger you swore lightning broke through the window and struck against your eyes. 
  He was deliberate yet slow as he coaxed you along, kissing and licking at your neck, his hair sticking to his sweaty skin and yours. The wind picked up more and rattled the door as your legs shook beneath him, coming undone by his hand. 
  You laid in a dreamy haze and when you opened your eyes you realized the lights had gone out from the storm, but a flash of lightning lit Eddie’s skin in sheets of white light as he pushed himself up, taking one last kiss from your lips. 
  He didn’t hurry you along as you reached for the waistband of his underwear, only groaned when he popped up heavy against his stomach, a beaded pearl already formed on his tip. His impressive length seemed to grow before your eyes as you placed a hand on him, and he hissed as you tugged him. 
  He was stunning, kneeling before you, shining with sweat, his lips bit between his teeth from your hands stroking him. You laid down again, opening wide with a smirk twisted on your mouth. 
  Lining himself up with your entrance, your hands skimmed down the muscles of his back, feeling the way they rippled when he pushed himself in, your combined whimpers deaf against the thunder cracking. He was large, an ache you wanted between your legs again and again if he wanted. 
  Eddie’s eyes meet yours as he collects your lips with his, and you nod for him to go deeper. He stretched you until your breath quickened, making sure you were okay, kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, the spot behind your ear. It was soothing the way he took care of you, and when you told him he could move, he drug out of you slow, your walls constricting around him. 
  Cursing he squeezed his eyes shut as you clamped around him, and when he drove back into you, again and again, you swore you found Heaven. 
  You were both hard-pressed for air and sweating, your name falling from his lips in broken syllables as you both unraveled. Heaven was in his arms, in his smile, in the way his fingers laced with yours and pressed down into the mattress as his kisses deepened. 
  The storm raged war against itself outside but neither of you noticed. Tangled in eachother’s arms and once again joining together under the sheets, this time his lips pressed to your ear as he held you tight to him and took you from behind as you both laid on your sides. 
  Hours passed taking the clouds and thunder away. The only thing remaining on the mattress was a bottom sheet, one end still tucked and clinging for dear life. You didn’t know when you both ended up on the floor, and you didn’t mind the bite of the carpet on your knees as you wrapped your mouth around him. His moans spread across the room, no thunder to mask it. 
  When sunlight streamed through holes in the moth bitten curtain, his head laid on your bare chest, your hand in his curls. Dust danced in the warm rays across the room, laying heavy with the rest of the unkept space. 
  The buttery rays spread across your naked bodies, displaying the wine splotched skin marks on your chest. Your thighs had similar stains, ones that were licked better by the one who gave them. He had traces from last night on his neck and hips too, uneven stamps of purple and red painted from your mouth as you claimed him. 
  The two of you slept until the sun wavered to the west. . You had curled into him like a caterpillar in a cocoon, his breathing fanning your face as he gently snored, curls messy and frizzy. 
  Eddie’s clothes finally dried in the musty motel room, and you packed up and left when the sun was starting its radiant descent behind the mountains. 
  The small town was covered in wreckage from the storm, White Fir needles sprinkled the roads like confetti, branches laid across sections of the road that Eddie had to maneuver the truck around. But you finally made it back to the highway. 
  Back on the road. 
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Weeks passed and things went back to the way they had before. You didn’t share a bed again, and you didn’t bother to ask why. Looks still lingered, but neither of you crossed that line again. 
  You knew Eddie was looking for something that was more than what you could offer, and maybe he was caught up in the heat of the moment, maybe the storm swayed his opinion on you just for that night. 
  It killed you to not feel his touch, not feel the warmth from his body heat as he slept, not feel those lips on your neck your thighs your chest. The ache between your legs lasted days, but it was nothing compared to the hurt in your chest. 
  He didn’t know you wiped tears away every night when the lights went off or during your shower. What you had together that night was something special, and you’d cherish it for the rest of your life. 
  It wasn’t until you were on the border of the western state that you noticed him starting to act differently. His stares became longer. He stayed up talking with you until the witching hour. Maybe he would miss your friendship when he got to where he was going, you’d miss him. But you knew your time together was coming to an end.
  Still, you braved a smile on your face for him. No strings attached, the only thing left between you was the shared bench of his truck and that stormy night where you both spent the storm in each other's arms until dawn. 
  He was still Eddie, still made you laugh and was the gentleman he always had been. But whatever started in that motel room lived and died there. 
  Those feelings you had for him were smoldering and you had to remind yourself that once you hit California it would be the end of your journey with Eddie. The man who saved your life in more ways than you could imagine, showing you kindness and compassion. 
  That was why he was on the road the same day you were. Fate brought him to you as a gift, an offering to soothe your soul from the wickedness you’d encountered, and for that, and Eddie, you’d be forever grateful. 
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  California was on the horizon, and you had stopped at a small restaurant on the Nevada border before crossing into the final stretch of your journey. The food was good but the conversation was light, as if you both knew the end was nearing. 
  He had to look away from you more than once, shaking his head in the middle of a conversation as if to preserve himself from being hurt. 
  On the way back to the truck you felt the book start to close between your stories, and you nearly wept at the thought of never seeing him again. 
  “So,” Eddie asked, kicked a rock back to the truck after finishing up supper. “Where to now?”
  You slurped the rest of a Cherry Coke and made a confused face, “what do you mean? I thought you were going to California, lookin’ for love?” 
  He paused when you reached your door, eyes peering into the distance. “I made it this far without it.” He turns to you, looking so deep into your eyes your soul waved back at him. A smile creeps on his face, “well maybe not, cause look at what I’ve got.” 
  Your breath hitched in your chest and he closed the space between you, his hand on your cheek, the other on the door, “you might not be my love, but baby… I doubt it.” 
  Your eyes brim with tears as he presses his lips to yours. Lacing your fingers around his neck, he lifts you up into a hug, spinning you around in the desert sand. 
  He sets you down, placing his hands on your lower back, moving you gently in the same dance you had done months before. “I never told you,” he began, murmuring into your ear, “that day we met, not a single radio station would come in, I drove a hundred miles that day and nothing. But when I popped over that hill, and saw you walking with nothing but turmoil and angst on your shoulders, a song finally played, something I hadn’t heard in years.” 
  You move your head from his chest and smile looking up to him, “what song?”
  “The same one that played the last time we did this.” he said with a smile, “I knew when it played again that you were meant for me baby, that I’d found what I’d been looking for.” 
  And for the first time since you were a child, you knew that not all men were angry and hateful. Some of them were good, and handsome, and made you smile so much your cheeks ached. You felt your heart finally heal. Eddie sewing it shut, and the smile on your face mirrored his own. 
  “Told you I was lucky…now tell me love,” he said, kissing your lips and holding your face in his hands, “where are we going next?”
  You squeezed him against you and looked up at him, at the love you had also found that you weren’t expecting, “anywhere with you and all of your dumb luck is the only place I think I’d ever wanna be.” 
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  …and you said “hey, do you wanna see the West with me? Cause loves out there and I can’t leave it be.”
  And I said “honey, loves never meant much to me, oh, But i’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.” 
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🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire
@aropodcastfuck @erinekc @sage-glowstick @emma-munson @b-irock
@miaajaade @bastardstevie
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zerokurokawa · 2 days
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Hii me again.. I’m having a kakucho brainrot rn ugh.. Could you maybe also write a nsfw drabble of how he would act if he’s feeling really jealous.. i’m so tired of hearing that he’s a softie lol i know he has a meaner side to him when he’s being pushed to his limits.
Thanks again! ^_^
I Can't Help It | Jealous!Kakucho x Reader (NSFW, SMUT, MDNI)
Kakucho couldn't help but to stare at you while you wore that tight, low rise, mini skirt with a cropped tank top and converse. You two had been attending one of the clubs that the Haitani brothers owned and he wanted to go home already, but you were clearly having the time of your life. He watched as you pranced and danced around, showing off your curves and belly button ring as the music blared. All of the guys wanted to dance with you, but you were busy attending to your drunk, stumbling friend who was also still dancing. 
Kakucho had his eye on one guy in particular that kept trying to grind on you as you kept moving spots, avoiding him at all cost. You knew Kakucho was watching from the sidelines, but this guy would not give up. 
That's when he walks up to you and shoves the guy, who was significantly smaller than him, away from you and stands behind you. Once you realize that it's him, you, in your. drunken state, start to dance and grind on him. It wasn't long before he had pulled you back into one of the VIP rooms where you both were alone. 
Tugging at your clothes, you heard him groan about how he was so turned on and pissed off at the same time. 
"That fucking idiot thought he had a chance with my girl." He would say as he yanked your skirt off, leaving you in just your tank top and panties that revealed a little too much. 
"Baby, he was probably just drunk..." You moaned as you felt his hands gripping your hips and grinding against you from the front. HIs face was nuzzled in your neck as you began to become undone under his touch. 
"I don't give a fuck. I'll go back out there and beat the shit out of him in front of everybody." He grinned, making you become even more turned on by his tough demeanor. You knew Kakucho loved to fight and would actually do it. As you two were about to go further, you hear the door open. 
Standing there was none other than Ran Haitani, interrupting your good time with a request for Kakucho. 
"I don't have the time, I have to attend to y/n." He said stoutly before slamming the door back in Ran's face. He turned back to you, still whining and whimpering for more. Kakucho walks over to you and begins to roughly kiss you, sliding his fingers right between your legs. 
"Already wet for men, huh?" He smirked, leaving you in complete bliss. 
It was like the rougher he got, the more you got turned on. Kakucho was normally stoic and quiet but seeing him fire up and jealous had a serious effect on you. You knew what he wanted and he was going to have it - tonight, whether you liked it or not. 
Without warning, he rips your dainty panties in half, exposing your self completely as you were shoved against a wall. He gestured for you to jump, as so you did, wrapping your legs around his waist. He unbuckled his belt while holding you with one arm; he was so strong. Soon enough, he spread you open and entered, fucking you. 
He went hard and fast, groaning and growling over and over about how you were his and belonged to nobody else. You couldn't take it, he was going too fast and too hard. You needed more though, as he began to lose his patience and was wanting you to cum first. 
It wasn't long before he had bent you over the table in the VIP room and began at it again, you arching your back as he gripped your sides. 
"Mine." He would say in between the slaps of skin that filled the room. You were moaning mess, having already came undone from being held against the wall. You had nothing to say other than to let out breathy, loud moans as he continued to pound into you. 
"You hear me? You're mine..." He trailed off as he began to get closer and closer to his own bliss. You felt him lean forward, gripping your hair and yanking your head back, making you look at him as he filled you. 
After you both were done, he looked at you with a straight face, "Don't even think about going back out there." 
Needless to say, he drug you home and it was a long night of him blowing off steam with you whimpering and whining. 
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allysunny · 2 days
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Lover, Everything I Do, I Do It for the Love of You
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Pairing: Yandere!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Your marriage to Aaron seemed like a dream come true. But beneath his loving facade lies a dark obsession, which you find out too late. As Aaron's controlling nature turns more abusive, you're forced to confront the nightmare your life has become. How much longer will you be able to endure his twisted version of "love"?
Words: 13k words
Warnings: Yandere, controlling, obsessive and abusive behaviour. Probably OOC Aaron, but, well, it's kind of the point. I'm not joking here, this is terrifying. No happy endings here. Abusive relationship, emotional blackmail, emotional and physical abuse, gaslighting, Aaron is terrible in this one, I'm so sorry, physical violence, angst, lots of crying, mentions of pregnancy. If I forgot anything, do let me know!!!
A/N: Hey everyone!!! Oh my god, I have finally posted the yandere!hotch fic. I'm sorry it took me so long, I had this one stupid exam I had to study for - I studied like a bitch okay, please pray for me, I hope I get a good grade.
Anyways, here it is!!! I'm very proud of this one - I've had this specific scenario in my head for a while and I really wanted to write it out. I'm also aware of the fact that Aaron being abusive and controlling and posessive might be extremely OOC, but I just really wanted to explore a potential darker version of him.
I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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You were reading on your couch when the front door opened, causing you to look up in anticipation.
That’s how you usually passed the time, nowadays. Reading. You had other hobbies, sure. Things like baking and knitting and crocheting and gardening and pottery and probably dozens of others you could name. Things that kept you busy while you were home. Things that kept you from missing him too much when he was gone. Things that kept you from going insane. But he’d just arrived, so your book was quickly discarded on top of the couch, and your feet brought you to him, almost as if second nature – because it probably was. You’d always find your way to Aaron Hotchner.
“Welcome home!” you all but exclaiming, throwing your arms around his neck. He reciprocated the gesture, although opting to wrap his around your waist, as his head dropped to the crook of your neck.
“Hello, dear,” he whispered against your skin, shoulders dropping in relief. Aaron loved coming home to you. He loved coming to you – his home. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” you ran your fingers through his hair, happy to hold him so close after such few long days. You missed him so much every time he was gone, so cherishing the moments when he was home was a must. “Thought about you all the time.”
“Really? Because I thought about you the whole time,” Aaron replied, pushing away from you to kiss the top of your forehead. He smelled like cologne and exhaustion, like the dangers of his work, a smell you were far too familiar with by now. “How about I take a quick shower and then you can tell me all about your week?”
You nodded excitedly, sending your husband off to clean himself while you got the kitchen ready for dinner. You usually ate at around seven, and it was nearly six, so if you wanted to spend some time in the couch talking to Aaron, you had to at least get everything ready. You heard the water running and smiled to yourself – how nice it was to have him home after so many days all by yourself. You prepared the ingredients and placed every tool exactly where it should be, so you could quickly get to making dinner.
In a few minutes, your husband was back, wearing a simple black shirt (that hugged his arms incredibly well, making your mouth water at the sight), and a pair of loose grey sweatpants. You loved seeing him like this – Not the fearless SSA Aaron Hotchner, nor the stoic Unit Chief, nor the commanding Agent Hotchner. He was simply Aaron, sweet, sweet Aaron who discarded his suits for comfortable sweats, who switched crime for a night of cooking and dancing in the kitchen with you, who would protect you and keep you safe all his life.
“Welcome back, handsome,” you smiled at him as he walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, effectively trapping you against the kitchen counter.
“Thank you, beautiful.” Aaron raised his hand to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “So, tell me. How was your day?”
You told him all about it.
How after he left, you cooked a massive breakfast spread for yourself, preparing different kinds of toasts, jams, sides, and drinks. After you were done, you sat outside, bathing in the soft morning sunlight, a toast in your hand, and your newest book acquisition in the other. You told him how you did some nice spring cleaning, dusting off the windows and the cabinets to keep the dust and cobwebs out. You told him about your lunch, which you gobbled up happily as you caught up on your favourite show, and how in the afternoon, you alternated between sewing and reading and painting, and the other thousand hobbies you had.
You loved Aaron. You really did. He was your husband, the love of your life, the only person you wanted to spend eternity with. You loved waking up to him and feeling his arms around you as you fell asleep. You’d jump in front of a train for him, take a bullet for him, and you would spend the rest of your lives together showing him just how much you did truly love him. He was your soulmate.
“Did you leave the house?” he asked softly, hand still caressing the soft skin of your cheek.
You loved Aaron. You really did.
“No.”
That’s why you lied.
Aaron was protective. He’d lost coworkers, friends, and his ex-wife to his gruesome job, and he worried so very much about you. He could be overprotective, though.
He searched your face for any kind of doubt, of untruthfulness, or deceit. You worried he would be able to read you like an open book – after all, you’d been married for a few years now. He probably could. But you prided yourself in being able to do some little profiling of your own, and schooled your features into a soft smile, the one you knew had him weak.
“Good.” His hand dropped to your neck, where he slowly rubbed circles with his thumb. “Wouldn’t want you in any danger.”
“I know,” you mumbled with a small shrug.
“I love you. All I want is for you to be safe.”
“I know. I love you too.”
After a while of gazing into your eyes, Aaron pulled away, but not before placing a chaste kiss on top of your head. “How about we get started on dinner? No need to rush this way.”
You nodded towards him and settled around the kitchen.
You moved around each other like second nature, passing tools and ingredients back and forth as you needed them. The soft humming of the radio Aaron had turned on buzzed in the background, making the atmosphere much more domestic. Sometimes you stole glances at him and smiled at his focused expression. The furrowed brows and thinly pressed lips, the image of composure and dedication. That’s who Aaron was, through and through. Dedicated.
Since you took your sweet time, dinner was ready at exactly seven o’clock. Punctual, just how Aaron liked it. You set the table and were sat down to eat before ten past seven. Precise, just how Aaron liked it.
As you ate, he told you about his day. The files on top of his desk he had to review, the case he had to go on, the intricacies of his job. Aaron never went into too much detail – he did not want to taint you with the ugliness of his job, wanted to keep you beautiful and untouched forever. You did not need to know all the ugly details he and his team had to deal with.
“Speaking of, JJ is organising a birthday party for Henry,” Aaron mentioned. “She has invited us.”
You were so happy you could burst with joy.
“Really?” You asked, putting down your fork to look at him with a bright smile on your face.
“Really. Would you like to go?”
“Yes!” It came out more eager than what you expected, so you tried to cough it out and try again. “Yeah, I’d really love that, Aaron. I miss the kids so much.”
“I thought you might. It’s settled then, we’re going.”
You ate the remainder of your food with a smile playing on your lips, and a small idea turning in your head. He seemed to be in a good mood. He took a relaxing shower, helped you make dinner, and had now told you the two of you were going to a birthday party. Surely, he was feeling happy, surely you could try and sweeten your night a bit more.
“You know, maybe it’s a good time to mention that Mrs. Robinson came by yesterday,” you said, trying to be as casual as possible.
Aaron immediately looked up, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Why did she come here? What did she want?”
“Gosh, Aaron, you act as if she’s a psychopathic serial killer,” you said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s a sweet old lady.”
“Hm. So? Why did she stop by?”
“She wanted to know if I was interested in joining her book club.”
Aaron went back to eating his food, and you saw it as your chance to keep talking.
“They meet at the library every Thursday to discuss the books they’re reading. Some neighbourhood ladies are part of it, and she sees me reading in the garden so she thought I might be interested.”
Your husband kept eating, looking at the plate before him. You kept talking.
“I am. Interested, that is. I’d love to join her book club.”
“No.”
Your felt your stomach sinking but fought against it. Do not be emotional. Be rational. Be assertive. See this through.
“Why not?” you asked, bringing your glass of water to your lips. Be casual. It’s a request like any other. You’re not desperate.
“Because I don’t think it is a good idea.” He still refused to meet your eyes.
“You think it’s a bad idea for me to meet with a bunch of old ladies at the local library to discuss books?”
“I do. And I don’t want you doing it.”
“Aaron, come on. It’s just a book club, it’s not like anything is going to happen to me.” You pleaded, dreading the feeling of your throat tightening. You knew it meant the tears weren’t long due.
“Every week for God knows how long?” This time he raised his head, looking at you straight in the eyes. Unfortunately, you did not recognise your sweet husband in them. This was all Unit Chief, all SSA, all Agent. “If you create a pattern, you’ll be easier to track. I won’t have that happen to you.”
“I’ll be safe, I promise. I can take cabs instead of walking.”
“Abductions can occur better that way. Once you’re taken to a second location, your chances of survival decrease dramatically.”
“I’ll carry pepper spray then. Take self-defence classes.”
“Pepper spray is nothing to an experienced killer.”
“What if I take the bus?”
“You can’t expect me to agree to you going on a public transport where countless other strangers could also be.”
“I’ll get a ride with some of the ladies then.” You were running out of excuses, out of options, out of ways to convincing him, and the harshness of his voice and eyes were causing you to tear up quicker than expected.
“They might have ulterior motives.”
“They’re sweet old ladies, Aaron, I’ll be fine.” You were exasperated by now, voice shaky and wobbly. “It’s just a book club, it’s not like anything will happen to me – “
“I said no.” Aaron smacked his hands on the dinner table, causing you to flinch backwards. You looked at him, wide eyes in terror and tears streaming down your face. Aaron had never raised your voice at you, and while he was sometimes physical with the world around him – not you, though, never you – this was the first time in a while he took out his frustrations like this. You thought he had been doing well. You thought you had been doing well.
Turns out you were wrong.
“You will not be leaving this house any time soon, not for a book club, not for anything.” He looked at you with the stern gaze solely reserved for criminals, unsubs, for people who did bad things, for the bad people he caught. You never thought you’d be in the receiving end of this stare. It made your stomach churn. You hated it. “And I’m starting to think it’s a bad idea to go to Henry’s birthday party. I’ll tell JJ we’re otherwise engaged.”
Your eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, and you shook your head repeatedly.
“No – please, don’t. I miss them so much, I miss the team, I miss the kids, I – “ You stuttered pathetically, trying to keep the tears from falling, but failing miserably.
“You’re going to stay here, and you’re not going to go anywhere else. Understood?” He asked you, voice booming in the tiny kitchen, making you feel small and weak and utterly powerless – Aaron had you stuck to your chair without having even touched you.
“I want to go out – please, JJ invited us! I haven’t seen everyone in so long, I’m sorry, please let me go.”
Aaron said your name with a sternness and venom you had never recognised before in your shared time together. It made your surprised expression fall, leaving only sadness.
“I won’t tolerate any more defiance from you. If I were you, I’d watch my words carefully. You know I have never so much as even lifted a hand towards you, but I won’t hesitate to show you what happens when you disobey me. Is that clear?”
Pure, sheer terror was running through your veins. You never thought you’d see Aaron like this. You’d upset him once or twice when he first set the boundaries you now lived by, but he had never behaved the way he was behaving now. It terrified you, and all you wanted was your sweet Aaron back, the one that had cooked dinner with you earlier, the one who had tasted the food off your lips for a “quality check” and pinched your side playfully when you made a dirty joke. Not whoever this was.
You quickly stood up, placing your dishes in the dishwasher, and ran to your shared bedroom, where you slammed the door behind you (a terrible idea and you knew it, but you were far too upset to care) and collapsed on your bed, sobbing uncontrollably.
You wanted to go out. You wanted to go meet JJ and the team, wanted to talk to all of them again. Wanted to discuss books with Spencer and advise Penelope on the new nail polish you’d began using. Wanted to ask Rossi for wine recommendations, because your anniversary with Aaron was approaching and you wanted to order him something nice – order, of course. You never shopped by yourself in person.
In fact, you never shopped in person anymore.
Aaron’s rules had started out simple. You could understand why a man like him would want to protect you from the horrors of this world. But as the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into years, the rules had shifted, the boundaries reinforced, and you felt more caged than ever. Nowadays, you’re not allowed to leave the house. Period. You can go to your backyard, sunbathe in your garden, and spend some time there, but aside from that, you’re confined to the walls of your house.
Sometimes, Aaron offered you to take you places. He hadn’t, in a long time. Henry’s birthday party would be the first time in months you’d leave your house. Well, save for that secret escapade of yours, but that was not nearly enough to satiate your hunger for the outside world.
And now that was gone.
You wailed loudly, hugging your pillow, and wishing for things to be different. You missed going out. You missed talking to your friends over coffee or tea and strolling down the park when the weather was nice. You barely saw your friends nowadays. They were too busy with their lives, and often met up with each other to hang out. Your reply, unfortunately, had become the same.
Sorry girls, I’m busy.
It was disheartening and you hated it. But you also loved Aaron, which made everything harder.
Speaking of Aaron, you thought about your little secret outing of today. You put on some baggy clothes, wore a pair of sunglasses, and walked to the nearest park. You sat down on the grass, watched as people walked by, even pet a few dogs. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t really a luxurious outing, but it had been exactly what you needed. Some fresh air, some real walking, not the pacing you did around the house, worrying yourself and driving yourself insane. You thought no one had recognised you, which was great, because you had no idea what Aaron would do if he found out.
That’s why he couldn’t.
You stayed there, crying your heart out, clutching your pillow like a lifeline. All you’d asked Aaron was to go to a book club. Surely that did not warrant the level of protection he was intent on giving you, right? Surely, going out every Thursday to discuss books with half a dozen old ladies was not that bad, right?
After a while – was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? You couldn’t tell – you heard the bedroom door being opened and felt the bed dip by your side.
“Go away,” you mumbled, not interested in whatever kind of comfort he was about to give you. You wanted to cry, to scream, to yell. You wanted to walk outside and do all the things you had been forbidden to do. Instead, you curled away from him, eyes tightly closed.
“Honey…” Aaron mumbled, but not attempting to scoot closer. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“I am. I never wanted to yell at you like that or threaten you. I’m really sorry for my behaviour.”  His hand slowly crept up to your shoulder, and he caressed your skin through the soft fabric of your shirt. You knew Aaron liked to have his hands on you. While in public (well, whenever you two went out in public at least), he hated PDA, behind closed doors he was a clingy mess, reaching to touch you at every moment. “You just have to understand that I care about you, and I want to keep you safe.”
“A book club isn’t going to hurt me,” you choked out, shaking your head against the covers.
“When you have a job like mine, see the things I see… it’s hard to draw the line between what could be safe and what couldn’t.” Aaron reached forward, brushing some strands of hair out of your face and sighing. “I’m sorry. I know I worry too much, but whenever I go to work and see all the terrible things that happen to innocent people… It’s not nice, darling. It makes me even more anxious.”
You turned around tentatively, not wanting to let him win this argument and your good graces back so quickly, but still willing to listen to whatever he had to say.
“Whenever I think of the possibility that one day, it could be your picture I’m looking at in my conference room… I don’t think I can describe the anguish it causes me.”
You hummed softly. Aaron dropped his hand to his side, and you hesitantly picked it back up. Goodness, you did not even want to think of that possibility. Him trying to solve your murder. Your murder. You being hurt and tortured and killed.
That was an outcome you never wanted to face. Just thinking of the pain it would cause Aaron makes your stomach do a very unpleasant flip.
“And after I told you about Henry’s birthday, I thought you’d be happy. I thought you’d like it, being able to leave for a while and hang out with my team – I know how much you love them.” A small smile graced Aaron’s lips, and it almost lifted your spirits. Almost. “But instead of that, you asked me for more. I just felt like you weren’t being grateful of what I offered you. Like you wanted more than what I could give you. And after the week I had… I think I just exploded. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
Oh.
“I wasn’t even sure if I was going to tell you about the birthday party… I wanted to keep you here, away from all harm. But I knew just how happy it would make you, so I overlooked my own fear. And it felt like you weren’t being appreciative of what I was giving you. I’m sorry, honey. I really am.”
Embarrassment crept up to your cheeks.
He was right.
You knew Aaron was protective. Knew he cared about you. Telling you about Henry’s birthday party must’ve taken a great deal of courage for him, and here you were, asking for even more. You felt foolish right now, you felt like an annoying spoiled brat. And it wasn’t nice at all.
“I’m sorry,” you replied, turning to him fully and scooting closer. He met you halfway and scooped you up in his arms, sitting you down on his lap. You rested your forehead against his chest and only the feel of his arms around you was enough for the waterworks to start again. “I just wanted to go out,” you sobbed into his chest, clutching his shirt, and refusing to meet his eye.
“I know, sweetheart,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair, and caressing you. “And if you hadn’t said anything about that silly book club, we could’ve gone out and had fun at Henry’s birthday party.”
“I really wanna go, though,” you shook your head and clutched his shirt tighter, “Please, let me go. We can have a good time together. Please, I’ll do anything you say, I’ll be good.”
Aaron pressed a soft kiss on top of your head, hugging you just a tad closer.
“I’m sorry, darling. We can’t go to the birthday party. You need to understand that your actions have consequences, alright? Next time, you won’t be so bratty and ungrateful, and maybe we’ll go.” The harshness of his words felt odd when he said them in such a gentle manner. You knew Aaron was capable of whispering kind words and loving promises, but also knew he could rip people to shreds with his words alone. You just didn’t expect to be at the receiving end of them.
“But I was good…” you sniffled.
“Now, now.” He lifted your chin up with his fingers, gazing into your eyes with that same old affection you were so used to, eyes scanning your face and landing on your red eyes and runny nose. “Is demanding for more time out after I’d just granted you some being good?”
You shook your head, truly embarrassed, but decided not to say anything.
“I don’t think you deserve to go out then.”
It was enough for you to tear up again, heartbreak evident in your eyes and the way loud ugly sobs were ripped from your throat. Aaron simply held you against him, shushing you, placing kisses in whatever spot he could reach. He comforted you silently, as he often did when you were distressed or anxious.
“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, hiding your face against his chest. “I’m sorry, I want to be good, I want to go out, please…”
You sounded so defeated, it broke Aaron’s heart. But at the end of the day, he was only doing his job: protecting you. If it made you cry and suffer a bit, then so be it. You could scream all you wanted, but at least you’d be safe.
“I’m sorry, darling. You need to know your actions have consequences. Tell you what, I’ll make it an even better day, alright?”
You looked up at him, sniffling.
“You will?”
“I will,” brushing a strand of hair aside from your face, Aaron whispered, “We can order some food, if you’d like. Your favourites. Then we can curl up on the couch and watch some movies. We’ll have a cosy day, just the two of us, hm? I’ll even get you that console you’ve told me about, the one you really wanted.”
It’s been a while since you’d been able to have a cosy day with Aaron. He was always so busy with work, and even when he was home, he’d lock himself inside his home office and work some more. The idea of spending a whole day curled up in his arms as you watched movies, played some games and ate your favourite food was extremely tempting. In fact, it was just what you needed.
“Really? Just the two of us?”
“Just the two of us,” he repeated, kissing the top of your head once more and tightening his hold on you. You figured you could do it. A cosy day with your sweet, sweet Aaron.
After all, he was all you needed, right?
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Your cosy day together went extremely well, and it reminded you of why you’d fallen in love with this man. He’d started it by bringing you breakfast in bed, as well as fresh flowers and telling you just how pretty you were and how much he loved you. After you were done eating your share, Aaron decided to have his and spend nearly two hours in between your legs, drawing sweet, sweet noises from you and drinking them up.
After that, you showered together, you spent some time in the garden. Aaron helped you with your flowers and your small vegetable garden, and you even picked up some veggies for lunch – which Aaron so gladly helped you make. After that, you sat on the couch as your husband cleaned the kitchen, picking a movie to watch. You ended up settling on a rom-com – not really your husband’s favourite genre, but it’s not like he could say no to you after he’d promised a day all about you.
After the movie was done, you caught up on some of your buddy-reads. Even if Aaron did not allow you to join a book club, he still made sure to pick books up and read them with you. It was another way to connect with you, even if just for a while. He found himself texting you when on the jet, asking you if you’d made it to chapter 4 of whatever current reading the both of you were going through, and asking you not to spoil him. Today, you managed to finish the thriller you’d picked up a few weeks ago and shared your thoughts and theories over a nice cup of tea.
Then, Aaron prepared a nice bath for the both of you. You drank champagne and ate strawberries as you played with the bubbles and nuzzled into his neck, and you could swear it was the happiest you’d ever been. Later, he’d ordered from your favourite place, and you’d eaten on the couch, laughing at some silly comedy movie you’d been meaning to watch for some time now.
It was a perfect day of Aaron proving to you just how much he loved you, from making you breakfast in bed to even feeding you bite after bite after he jokingly told you his beautiful wife “wouldn’t have to lift a finger while he was home”. It ended up proving to be true, since he did not allow you to do anything.
Later that night, you felt foolish – being ungrateful and bratty, and instead of being mad at you, Aaron was acting like your servant, catering to your every need, and giving you everything you could possibly want. You were so lucky – how come you’d managed to find a man like him? Days like this made you reevaluate your actions towards your husband. It was unfair to treat him the way you did when he was nothing short of a prince or a king.
A king who kept you captive in his tower, a little voice in your head screamed.
You tried not to listen to it.
Aaron had lost people before. He wanted to protect you. To save you. Case closed.
A few weeks later, one Sunday morning, you were looking through your drawers in your bedroom, brow burrowed in confusion.
“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” Aaron asked, walking inside, and leaning against the doorframe. You loved it when he did that, seemingly so carefree and reckless. You thought him to be the most handsome man in the world, and his good looks only increased whenever his brow wasn’t furrowed, or his face buried in work.
“Yeah, I – I just can’t find my phone anywhere,” you huffed, “I could’ve sworn I left it on top of my bedside table.”
“You won’t be finding it any time soon.” Aaron replied nonchalantly, which caused you to turn and raise a questioning eyebrow.
“What?”
“I took your phone from you, honey. I didn’t think you’d be needing it, so I took it away.”
The calmness with which he said these words left you speechless. You loved your phone. It was your connection to the outside world. It was how you texted your friends and documented sweet moments with Aaron. It was how you kept up with your family, and currently, it was how you were preparing for your anniversary, looking for gifts that might be of interest to your husband. To take that away from you was a breach of privacy.
“Why would you do that?” You crossed your arms, sitting down on your bed. Maybe if you spoke with him calmly, rationally, if you didn’t get emotional and desperate, he’d listen to you. It was normal for you to have a phone. No need to take it away.
“I read through your text messages.”
What?
“You did what?”
“You seem to chat an awful lot with Reid. Mind telling me why?”
You scoffed, offendedthat your husband not only went through your texts but was also coming up with some pretty serious – false – accusations.
“Aaron, what the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, trying your best to remain calm.
“In fact, you seem to text him more often than you text me.” A twitch of his jaw.
“That’s because you tell me not to contact you when you’re working.”
“So is Reid and that doesn’t seem to stop you.” A click of his jaw.
“We’re just two friends talking, Aaron. You had no right – “
“You had no right to go behind my back and talk to my coworkers twenty-four-seven. What did you expect me to think, huh?” Aaron approached you, brows furrowed and arms now at his side. You could see his fists were clenched, and it somehow scared you. “Maybe I’ve been too lenient, letting you contact whoever you wanted at any time you wanted. Should I have Garcia look into your search history?”
“You can’t do that!” You stood up, mortified. He wouldn’t do it, now would he? Aaron trusted you – trust was the bane of your relationship, as it was the bane of any relationship. And right now, he was basically telling you he had none for you, taking your privacy away and threatening to investigate your internet activity. You were doing nothing wrong – your usual movie and documentary-watching, book-reading, game-playing, whatever. Hell, you kept it PG and Safe for Work. It’s not like Aaron would be displeased with what he found. But it was still disrespectful, and it proved to you that your husband did not trust you.
“I can, and maybe I will. I’ve been giving you everything and this is how you repay me? By going behind my back? Talking to my coworkers? Am I not enough, is that it? Do you not love your husband anymore?”
You were crying by now, and hated yourself for turning soft, for turning sentimental when you promised you wouldn’t.
“I do love you, Aaron, you’re the only one I want,” you told him, approaching him slowly.
“Then why are you talking to Rossi, of all people, at one in the morning? What could possibly so important that you must call him when we’re away on cases at one in the morning?”
“It’s not that you think!”
“Then what is it, huh? Getting tired of your marriage, is it?”
You lifted your hand to cup Aaron’s face, as you often did when he was nervous or distressed and wanted to calm him down. This time, however, it didn’t go according to your plans. Aaron grabbed your wrist, pressing it uncomfortably until it hurt.
“Fuck – Ow, Aaron, you’re hurting me – “
“I don’t let you outside to keep you safe,” he nearly spat out, “To protect you. And this is what you do? Everything I do, I do it because I love you!”
“You’re hurting me, please let go, we can talk about this – “
“Why were you calling my coworkers so late in the night?” It wasn’t even a question at this point, it was a demand, with how he barked it, twisting your wrist as he yelled.
“Let me go!”
“Answer me!”
“Let me go!”
Aaron pulled you closer to him by your wrist, causing you to wince in pain. Tears were streaming down on your cheeks, and instead of immediately letting go upon noticing them, Aaron just held onto you tighter. “Answer me. Why have you been calling my coworkers so late?”
“I’m just asking for help!” you cried, shaking your head, unable to look your husband in the eyes. “I wanted to give you something nice for your anniversary, so I was asking around!”
This made Aaron stop dead in his tracks. His eyes widened and he loosened the grip on your wrist. Your anniversary. Right. As he watched you stumble back a few steps and caress the bruised skin of your arm, Aaron shook his head. Was he becoming a tyrant? He wasn’t, was he? It was completely normal for him to be worried. Who knew what you could do with a phone. Meet someone else and leave him. Get tricked and hurt. Get taken from him. None were possibilities he wanted to even think about – hence removing this type of contact with the outside world. You were better off where no one could reach you. Where he could protect you and take care of you. After all, your safety and happiness were the only thing Aaron cared about.
And yet here you were, sitting down on your shared bed, sobbing your heart out, clutching your wrist near your chest, far too scared to meet his eye.
He had to fix this. Quick.
“I – “ you hiccupped, looking at the floor, “I called Rossi because I wanted to get you a bottle of w-wine. Something special to c-commemorate a special date.” After you let go of your wrist, no longer that sore (but still red from Aaron’s grip), you hid your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with each sob that got ripped off your throat. “I called the others because I wanted you to have the night to yourself. They were supposed to take on your workload slowly, so you could go home on time on our day.”
Aaron was glued to his spot. He wanted to reach out to you, but he also knew you needed space. He’d behaved like a monster. He felt like a monster. But he wasn’t. Right? You can’t blame a man for wanting to protect his wife. The woman he loves. Everything he did, he did it out of love. Even if it hurt sometimes.
“I just wanted our anniversary to be special.” This seemed to be the breaking point. You fell back on the bed and curled into yourself in a foetal position, crying loudly. “And now the surprise is ruined, and you hate me, and I can’t even have my phone back.”
This seemed to break something inside Aaron as well. Not the bit about your phone – he couldn’t care less about that. The less you could contact the outside world, the better. No, the bit about him hating you. Because how could he ever hate you, the woman he loved above everything else? The woman that made his life worth it? The woman that made getting out of bed every day to catch serial killers worth it? The woman he was working so hard to protect? The woman who had taught him what love was?
“Darling…” he knelt next to the bed and attempted to lay a hand on your leg. You flinched away from him, and he winced. You’d never rejected his touch. Even when you were mad at him, you never found it in yourself to reject him. You both knew how fickle and unpredictable life could be and did not want to waste it in petty quarrels. No one knew what tomorrow may bring.
This seemed different, though.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, moving to sit on the bed next to you. You felt his weight on the mattress and curled into yourself even tighter.
“I just wanted to do something nice…”
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
“And you yelled at me.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“And hurt me.”
The venom behind your words caused him to grimace. Venom did not taste nice on your tongue. But as much as he wanted to punish you for using that tone with him, he couldn’t. He had to coax you out of your shell, make you trust him again.
“I know. I’m sorry, darling.”
“Are you?”
“I am.”
You stayed in silence for a while. Your sobs eventually subsided, and your breathing evened out as you stared away from your husband. But it was him who broke the silence, not able to bear it any longer.
“May I hold you?”
“I don’t want you to touch me right now. I want you to go away.”
Aaron inhaled deeply. He had to remain calm.
“Darling, please let me hold you. I feel terrible. Please let me make it up to you.”
You pondered it. Right now, all you wanted was to be alone. The last thing you wanted was his hands on you – especially when they’d caused you so much pain just a few minutes ago.
“No. Go away.”
Aaron clenched his fist next to him. Why couldn’t you just understand he was doing this all for you? For your protection?
Still, he sighed and moved to stand up, accepting his defeat – for now. He’d have to win you over, but he couldn’t do that right now, when your head was still hot and your hatred for him probably ran deep.
“If you need me, I’ll be in the living room.”
After Aaron closed the door behind him, you felt into a deep slumber.
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Next morning, you awoke to the smell of pancakes, and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on – something sweet. Making your way to the kitchen, you found your husband near the stove, a white apron wrapped around his body (most likely the one you’d gifted him a few years ago, the one with the Kiss the Cook print).
As your eyes roamed around the kitchen, they fell on the big bouquet of flowers sitting on top of the kitchen table, and the box of chocolates next to it. You cringed. Was he trying to bribe you? And then you examined said flowers and chocolate closer.
The flowers were the same as the ones you wore on your wedding bouquet. An unwilling smile made its way to your lips as you approached the delicate flowers and took in their scent. Fresh and as lovely as you remembered, the colourful flowers brought back memories of the happiest day of your life.
The chocolate box next to them was the same brand as the chocolates Aaron usually got for you whenever he was away on cases since they weren’t available in your state.
When had he gotten these?
“Good morning beautiful,” your husband said, turning to you and placing a plate full of pancakes on the table. He gave you a sheepish smile and leaned against the counter. “I hope you slept well.”
“I did,” you nodded, “What is all this?”
“My way of apologizing.” Aaron placed a glass of orange juice in front of your plate, as well as different jams and ingredients you could have your pancakes with. He had sliced bananas, butter, cheese and ham, jams, even strawberries. He’d really thought this through. “I behaved like an animal last night, and I want to make it up to you. I’m sorry, darling. I really am.”
You hummed and sat down. Fuck, those pancakes did smell good. Really good. You missed having Aaron cook for you. You could do it fine on your own, sure, but whenever he did it for you, it just filled your heart with immense warmth, because it just went to show just how much he loved you. How much he loved caring for you.
“You really hurt me last night, Aaron. You squeezed my wrist – you hurt me; do you understand?” You hoped your voice would convey just how angry you were with him. Not only had he looked through your phone and taken it from you, but he’d also squeezed your wrist and yelled. Aaron had once promised never to raise his voice or hand at you, and yesterday, he’d broken both those promises. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
Aaron’s eye twitched. Can’t forgive him? No. Impossible. Undoable. You had to forgive him. You were his wife. His to protect, his to love, his to own. Still. He kept calm. He took a deep breath and knelt next do you, hands resting on your legs.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to remedy what I did. In fact,” Aaron leaned back and grabbed something off one of the chairs, giving it to you right away. At first you were sceptical. Was he trying to buy you? He should know this was not how relationships work. Sure, he was wealthy, but it didn’t mean he could fix everything wrong with your relationship just by buying you something –
“I thought it would look lovely on you when we went out today.” Aaron spoke as you lifted the piece of fabric off the paper back. It was a lovely yellow dress, that you figured would reach below your knees. The fabric was soft, and it took everything in you not to rub it against your face – hell, it felt like heaven. And it was very pretty too, with little flower details that resembled a watercolour painting covering the dress. It was beautiful. “I thought we could go out today. You mentioned wanting to go to the market near the square? I can start making amends by taking you there, by showing you off like you deserve to be shown off. I don’t want to keep you captive here, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for the way I behaved. I promise, it’ll never happen again.”
You were speechless. Aaron was taking you out.
Shit. You hadn’t gone out since that little secret outing of yours. And as far as he was concerned, you hadn’t gone out in months. Was this it? Was your husband finally seeing how wrong his ways were? Was he finally changing?
“I’ve been so unfair, locking you up here, darling.” He reached out to touch your face, and you willingly let him. “All I wanted was to protect you, and I ended up hurting you. I hope this shows you just how much I love you, and how much I regret my past actions.”
You let his words sink in.
You knew letting you go out was Aaron’s biggest fears. He wanted nothing bad to happen to you, was far too scared that you would get hurt.
And now, he was letting go of his own fears. He was swallowing his pride and doubts and apprehensions because he wanted to apologise. Because he wanted to prove to you that he was sorry and that he did care about you and never wanted to hurt you. He was willing to break his number one rule for you.
And was there a greater display of affection?
“You really hurt me, Aaron…” you repeated, unconsciously rubbing at your wrists. Aaron noticed it immediately – didn’t take a profiler to do that and covered your hands with his own.
“I know. I will never forgive myself for that. But I’ll work until the end of my days to get you to do it. I love you, honey. The last thing I do is to hurt you. All I care about is your happiness.”
You looked away, bottom lip in between your teeth. A whole day out. Aaron wanted to go out. You’d finally leave the house (again). With him. You’d have fun. You’d enjoy yourself. You’d wear a nice dress and spend the day with your lovely husband.
Was there anything more perfect than that?
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere you want, darling. I’ll take you out wherever you want. You can plan our whole day to your heart’s desire.”
A smile made its way to your lips. Not only were you getting to go out with your husband, but you were also permitted to plan it any way you want. And that was absolutely lovely. Your husband, the control-freak, the man obsessed with being on top of things, the one who freaked out whenever things got out of hand, was relishing control.
To you.
You smiled widely and wrapped your arms around Aaron’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He reciprocated, of course, letting out a sigh of relief. You were back. You’d gone back to him. Just how he had wanted you to.
You buried your face in his neck, murmuring sweet “I love yous” and “Thank yous” that he responded to with a few kisses to your head and cheeks.
If allowing you to go out with him for a day was what took for you to forgive him, he’d do it. It was crushing him, of course, knowing that you’d be outside, for all to see. Knowing that anyone could easily hurt you made something turn and churn inside Aaron’s stomach, but he said nothing. He was willing to sacrifice one day for the sake of your marriage. After all, he’d be there next to you. He was a trained FBI Agent, for crying out loud. If he couldn’t protect you, what kind of man would that make him out to be?
No, he thought, it is extremely necessary.
“I love you, Aaron,” You whispered against his skin, feeling safe in his warm embrace. Last night had clearly been a mistake. He was angry, he was jealous, he was insecure, of course. You’d probably feel that way too if you found out he was calling other women past your bedtime, wouldn’t you? He just didn’t know what to do with his anger and got too passionate that’s it.
These were the words you told yourself as you smiled and hugged the man before you. The man that very much resembled the one you fell in love with, the sweet Aaron who’d promised to love and cherish you through thick and thin. Last night had been a small bump on the road, that’s it. Every marriage has a few every now and then. If you could push past this, it meant that your marriage would only get stronger and stronger as the years went by.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Aaron replied, cupping your face to get a good look at you. His eyes roamed across your features, resting on the eyes he sought whenever he needed comfort, on the eyelashes he so often found himself swooning at whenever you batted them softly, on the lovely cheeks he loved to hold after a rough day, on the lips that tasted like home any time he pressed them against his.
Swallowing his pride and fears would be worth it to get your forgiveness.
You sat up straight once more and dug into your breakfast. As always, it was fantastic. Aaron was a great cook – and although you did most of the cooking because of his busy schedule, having him cook for you was something you loved.
“Alright, you think about what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Aaron said as he stood up and kissed the top of your head. “I’m going to take a shower.”
You nodded enthusiastically and smiled to yourself, going through all the things you’d like to do today. There were a few places you wanted to visit, some activities you wanted to do, and you had to choose them carefully. Who knew the next time Aaron would let you go out? After a few minutes, you had a nice list on a sheet of paper beside you, and were brimming with excitement.
It was going to be the best day ever.
And to your credit, it really was.
You hadn’t been this happy in ages.
All thanks to Aaron.
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Your anniversary was quickly approaching.
Well, “quickly” was an understatement.
It was in two days, and you were so excited you could combust. After all, it was the anniversary of the happiest day in your life. The day you tied the knot with Aaron, the day you promised you’d be his, and him yours, the day where you swore to him a life of love, loyalty, and companionship.
Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate that?
You’d spent the entire day on your living room, papers and notebooks spread out on the couch and the coffee table before you, as well as some pencils and pens. You needed to plan this out perfectly. You were thinking about taking Aaron out to his favourite restaurant. Granted, it’d meant he would have to let you go out, but you figured he wouldn’t be able to say no in such a happy day.
You’d planned his gifts too – a bottle of wine, one that he had mentioned drinking a few years ago before you’d met and loved (thank Rossi for helping you find that one out), a new watch with your initials engraved inside (thank heavens you’d placed the order before Aaron took away your phone), and you had a lovely, lovely lingerie piece hidden away in your closet that you couldn’t wait for him to get a look at. It was going to be the perfect night; you were sure of it.
Aaron’s team had been taking workload off his desk as they promised, which meant your husband had been coming home to you earlier and earlier. Not only it was great for you, who missed him terribly, but also fantastic for him. Heavens knew how much Aaron needed to get some rest and sleep. These past few days, the bags under his eyes seemed to have disappeared and he wasn’t constantly exhausted. So, all your hard work had been paying off.
You just needed your anniversary to work out as well as everything else had.
As soon as the click of the door’s lock reached your ears, you scrambled to put away your things, not wanting to ruin the surprised you’d so thoroughly planned. Sure, Aaron knew about the wine, but he had no idea about the watch, the plans, and the flimsy piece of fabric you were sure he’d love.
“Hello, darling,” you greeted him as usual, turning around and offering him a smile. “How was work?”
But the sight before you sent chills down your spine, as opposed to bring you comfort.
Aaron was standing by the doorstep, eyes fixed on the ground below him. His jaw was tightened, and you could make out how white his knuckles were as he held onto his briefcase. He looked distressed, and it worried you.
“Darling?” You asked, carefully placing your notebooks under a pillow, and standing up. “Is everything okay?” You slowly moved around the couch to take his briefcase and his jacket, as you sometimes did when he was particularly tired – he usually liked it whenever you took care of him.
However, it was impossible to pry the briefcase away from his iron grip. You hummed and looked at him, trying to, for once, be the profiler. Must’ve been a rough case. You knew how gruesome some of them could be, and how Aaron preferred to hug you close sometimes instead of speaking about what tormented him. Actions spoke louder than words, you supposed.
“Rough day?”
He did not reply, choosing to keep staring at the floor.
“Darling, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” you said, hand coming up cup his cheek. You rubbed your thumb over his jaw a few times, hoping to soothe him. It didn’t work – if anything, you felt his body tense up even more. “Aaron, I can’t read your mind. You don’t need to tell me all the details, but please say something. You’re worrying me.”
When he looked up and his eyes met yours, you nearly winced.
He looked like shit.
And that itself would be an understatement. His eyes were bloodshot, the eyebags you’d worked so hard to help remove were back and in full glory, his cheeks seemed hollowed, and his hair was messy, as if he’d ran his hands through it multiple times.
“Oh, honey…” you mumbled, hugging him without any further words. Whatever he’d gone through that day must have been ghastly because you were quite sure you’d never seen your husband like this.
And you were going to do everything in your power to help him out.
“How about you take a warm shower, okay?” You asked, placing a kiss on his jaw, hands rubbing circles on his back. “Wash the day off you, relax a bit. Dinner is in the oven, so it’s nearly ready. We can eat and then you can talk. Or not. Whatever you feel is best.” You murmured, burying your face in his neck. Some of the tension seemed to leave Aaron’s body, which you considered a small victory.
Wordlessly, Aaron kissed the top of your head, pried his body away from yours and moved to your bedroom. He was acting strange no doubt, but you knew he’d feel instantly better after a hot shower and some nice homemade food. You’d make sure to restore your husband’s spirits – after all, that’s what you promised. Good and bad. Sickness and health. Highs and lows.
You did good on your word and finished up dinner, taking it out of the oven and plating it up. You wondered what could possibly have your husband so shook up. Sure, he’d come before tired and exhausted, and had once or twice cried in your arms while you stroked his hair and held him tightly, but today? Today he just looked angry. And somewhat empty. Hell, he hadn’t even said “hello” or called you gorgeous. Something was up and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
When Aaron came out, his lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked better than a few minutes before, though. Surely the warm water had helped him relax a bit. Now, onto the cooking. Aaron loved your cooking. As mentioned before, he loved anything you did to take care of him.
So, you pulled up his chair and pressed a kiss on the top of his head while you fetched two glasses and poured the two of you some wine. Usually you’d drink water, but with the day you were sure Aaron had, some wine would be the perfect way to decompress. Aaron sat down, and while he looked better, clean, and wearing comfortable clothes, you still felt like his mood was dark. He refused to meet your eye, and his expression was blank.
You knew you had to tread carefully. One wrong move, and Aaron would shut up, hide, refuse to speak. No, you needed to slowly coax him out of your shell, slowly bring him to the space he knew he was safe in, the space he knew he could talk freely in.
“I had such a busy day today,” you started, cutting your food, and placing a forkful inside your mouth. You carefully watched the man before you, and smiled once he began eating. Good. He was eating – that meant whatever had happened today was salvageable. “I woke up, and I guess we must’ve had a pretty windy night, because some of the flowers I’d planted last week were ruined. Took me about two hours to fix everything up, and even then, I think we’ll have to order some more.”
Ah, right. Aaron had taken your phone from you, but he still allowed you to keep your computer. At first you thought it was a bit contradictory, letting you keep something you could still access people and websites with. But those questions were quickly answered when you figured out the only few websites you could access were store ones. He was clear about this; you only needed the internet to buy useful things. Food. Groceries. He’d even been nice enough (his words) to let you access a lingerie store. But other than that, there was nothing else you could do. You had no access to social media, and while he’d granted you a few entertainment websites and services, you could not comment anywhere nor interact with other people.
“Then I made a really nice omelette for lunch because I wasn’t really that hungry – that reminds me, we need to get eggs – and in the afternoon I finally managed to clear that one level we’ve been trying to play for days now,” you chuckled at the memory of Aaron picking up your controller, brows furrowed as he failed to clear the level you were so desperately trying to clear on your new game.
“And I tried something different with dinner – I’m using a different tomato sauce, so you’ve gotta let me know what you think. In my opinion, it’s far too sweet, but maybe you’ll think differently.”
Nothing. You got nothing out of him except for a few hums and nods. Shit. Work really must’ve been terrible today.
Well, time to pull out the big guns, your biggest effort. He wouldn’t possibly be able to stay silent after this one – not when it was such a happy topic, one you knew he too was excited for.
“You know, our anniversary is just a few days away,” you said, unable to hide the smile that spread across your lips. You couldn’t help it – Aaron made you happy. Your marriage made you happy. How were you expected not to cry when talking about a day filled with happiness and joy and the promise of endless love? “I have a few surprises for you already, but I was wondering if you had any plans of your own?
This seemed to get his attention, as he finally looked at you. and you congratulated yourself for knowing your husband so well.
“Plans?” He spoke for the first time that evening, not putting down his cutlery.
“You know, plans. I thought it would be nice if we went out, you know. It could be something simple, we’d go out for dinner and come home right away.” You knew Aaron had let you go out a while ago, and you didn’t want to push your luck nor his patience – but at the same time, you thought he was finally opening up to the idea that you’d be fine if you stepped outside of your home once in a while. He’d agreed to it once, why couldn’t he do it again? And for an extremely special occasion.
“How about we talk about what you did a couple weeks ago first?” He asked, voice cutting through the kitchen like ice. This took you aback. What was he talking about? And why was he interrupting your talk of anniversary plans to bring that up?
“What are you talking about?” You asked, putting down your fork and your glass. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and an unsettling fear pooled in your stomach. Aaron had an incredible poker face, you knew this by the way his teammates spoke about him during interrogations, or how he never let his emotions show on his face.
But right now, the mask seemed to be cracking.
His jaw was set, and you could see the hint of a vein in his neck. His deep dark eyes bore into yours uncomfortably, and you shifted in your seat.
“I’m talking about how you sneaked out of the house a couple of weeks ago.”
You felt your stomach drop.
He knew. He knew you’d gotten out of the house.
Fuck.
How? No one had seen you – you’d made sure of that. None of your neighbours were there, and you’d worn a large hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, meaning you were kind of
Aaron’s voice was now rising, but he did not sound angry. He sounded awfully calm, like he was trying to keep everything under control. It wasn’t working – you were freaking the fuck out and were sure so was he.
“I didn’t go out, Aaron,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice from quivering. Was he just guessing? Maybe you could save this. “I never went out – I always stay home just like you tell me to.”
Wrong move.
“Don’t lie to me.” He banged his fist on the table, making you jump slightly. “Don’t lie to me,” he repeated, this time in a huskier tone. Usually, you’d get butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke like this. Today, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
“Aaron,” you started, softly, “I’m sorry I did that, but you have to understand I’d been inside the house for about two months, I was just tired – “
“Tired?” Aaron retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Tired of what, exactly? Of staying home and doing nothing? Of reading your books and taking care of your flowers, while I’m the one out there, risking my life every single day, working overtime more times than I can count?”
“I stay home because you tell me to, not because I want to!” you exclaimed, putting down your fork and knife. You were fighting the tears in your eyes not to roll down your cheeks. The last thing you wanted right now was start crying – not when Aaron was acting to strangely, and you feared he was getting angrier by the second. You seemed to be doing quite a lot recently – holding back your tears. And you didn’t like it one bit. “And you don’t have to risk your life like that, you don’t have to work as much as you do. I’ve told you Aaron, you should take a break, maybe work less hours, focus on your health – “
“I’ve given you everything, haven’t I?” Aaron stood up, making his way to the living room. It didn’t take long, since the kitchen space was open, and he took long strides. “I’ve given you my love, my affection, all of my devotion, I’ve given you everything you could’ve possibly asked for, and only asked for one thing in return. Loyalty. Honesty. That you stay here and never leave, and you can’t even do that.”
You followed your husband right after, staying a few feet away from him as he paced back and forth, clenching his fists beside him.
“You can’t keep me here forever, Aaron, I need to go out.” You cried out once again, trying to make him see reason. Did he truly believe his reasoning to be correct? “I – I just – It’s not right! I can’t stay locked up forever!”
“You can, and you will,” he muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “I’m your husband, I know what’s best for you, and I’m telling you it’s best if you stay home.”
“I’m not your prisoner, Aaron!” You threw your hands up, desperate. Was there anything you could say to make him realise just how wrong keeping you locked up at home was? “I just needed some fresh air. I felt like I was suffocating here!”
But your words, instead of soothing, seemed to have the opposite effect. Aaron’s breathing became more laboured and his eyes darkened.
“Suffocating? You want fresh air, go to the garden.” He scoffed, “You have everything you need right here! What more could you possibly want?”
You were becoming angrier at this point.
“It’s not about me wanting things, Aaron, it’s about freedom. You can’t keep me here forever!”
Then, a loud slam echoed throughout the room as Aaron punched the wall nearest to him, leaving an ugly dent in the stone. You flinched back, eyes widening with fear – Aaron had never been this violent. He’d gripped you too tightly once, but you’d never seen a display quite like this. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Hell, you weren’t even sure you knew this man, because the Aaron you loved most certainly did not act like this. Once upon a time, the man you married would have never been this violent in front of you. Once upon a time, he would’ve been understanding and talked to you about this instead of getting angry and letting his anger out in unhealthy ways.
“You don’t get to decide that!” He bellowed, “I do what’s best for you!”
Still, you couldn’t back off now. Your anger had subsided for the most part, now replaced with dread, but there was still a spark inside of you that made you not want to give up just yet. After all, you did not deserve this, now did you? Surely this type of behaviour wasn’t normal. Was it?
“This isn’t love, Aaron.” Your voice was shaking far too much, as was your whole body. “This is control. I’m your wife, I’m not your prisoner.”
Aaron turned to face you and in two steps, was towering over you like a brick wall. You took a few steps back instinctively, fearing the way he looked at you, with so much hatred and hostility in your eyes, you thought his gaze alone could turn you to a pile of ashes.
For the first time in your life, you recognised what you felt.
You were scared of your husband.
It was the first time you admitted it to yourself, and the realisation that you feared the one person whom you used to love and trust the most in the whole entire world was gutting. Because if you lost Aaron, you had no one else. He’d isolated you from your friends, from your family, and made himself a part of your every waking moment, consuming your thoughts and your actions.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that.” He hissed.
You were scared for your life. You’d never seen Aaron like this, and it scared you to death. Still, you decided to take hold of whatever fight you still had in you. Because no matter what, you still loved the man before you. And if he loved you as he claimed he did, he would listen, he would understand, he would apologise and you could go back to your life together, like nothing had ever happened.
Well, maybe some counselling, but you were sure you could go back to your life together.
After all, you didn’t know what would become of your life without Aaron. He was all you’d learn to know, and without him, you’d be lost.
“I’m not afraid of you, Aaron.” A lie. “I just want my life back.” Where did you get all this courage from?
“What life?”
“The life we had! I can’t do this anymore,” Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you, for once, truly spoke whatever it was your heart desired. “I won’t stay locked up here like some prisoner in a tower, I want to go out, I want to do things my own way! I hate living like this! You don’t love me anymore; you just want to control me! And I’m done! You can’t do that – “
“You think you can just walk away from me?!”
Your little speech was interrupted, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, cheek stinging like crazy. When you brought your hands to your cheek, your lip, your chin – that’s when you saw it. The blood. Warm and gooey, running down your nose to your lips and dripping on the floor below you.
And then it dawned upon you.
Aaron had hit you.
Looking up at him, you noticed how he was clutching his hand, breathing heavily.
“Aaron?” you breathed out, hands now covered in blood, your cheek and nose hurting like hell. You knew he was strong. You used to love how strong he was. How he could drive creeps away from you with a single stare or a shove, how he could pick you up effortlessly, making you giggle like a lovesick teenager, how he could manhandle you so easily, you felt like you were melting. His strength used to be something good, something he used to protect you or give you pleasure.
Right now, he’d used it to cause you pain.
Once his eyes landed on you, they softened, and he shook his head slightly. His mind was going a mile per hour, and he couldn’t just believe what he’d done. Neither could you.
“Honey, I – “ he trailed off, the words dying on his tongue. He took some tentative steps towards you, but you scurried away, eager to get the hell away from him.
“Don’t.” You muttered, one hand still under your nose, trying to stop the blood from rushing down your face, and failing miserably. It didn’t seem to stop. How could he do this? How could the love of your life, the man you loved and cherished more than anything, do this to you? Why would he do it? Aaron had promised to love and cherish you forever. He promised to be patient and kind and sweet, and he swore he would never hurt you.
And lately, that’s all he’d been doing.
Was this the point of no return?
Were you too beyond repair?
Aaron just stared at you, eyes wide in fear and despair – but fear of what? He wasn’t the one on the floor, he was the one towering over you, with much more strength that you would ever be able to muster. He was the trained FBI agent, the one who could pin you to the ground and never let you go, the one who could hurt you with just one hand and never even leave a mark.
And you were married to him.
You were completely at Aaron’s mercy.
Instead of screaming or throwing something, anything at him, or running away, you did what you’d been meaning to do for a while. You let go. You cried – sobbed even – uncontrollably.
What had your life come to?
You had a nice career. You loved your job. You loved waking up and doing what made you happy and felt like you had a purpose in life. Then you’d met Aaron, and he’d swept you off your feet, and you were incredulous because how could it all get so much better? How could you get both the job and the man? How had you gotten so extremely lucky?
The answer was you couldn’t. You couldn’t get both the job and the man, because Aaron sat you down and told you about his past. You’d hurt for him. Very much. Knowing he had lost both his wife and son to a sadistic man who took pleasure in hurting others had made you hold him tightly night after night after night and promise you wouldn’t go anywhere.
That’s when he made you promise you wouldn’t go anywhere.
It started out rather innocent.
“You could stay home,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing kisses on the soft skin below your ear as you cooked dinner. “I make enough money for the both of us. I can take care of you.”
You’d chuckled, shaking your head.
“I love my job, Aaron. I really do. And I like working, so it’s fine. But you’re sweet to even consider that.”
“You shouldn’t have to work, though,” he pressed on. “I could take care of you.”
You’d said no the first few times, but eventually relented. You knew it would put Aaron at ease, and you thought he was worth it. Your relationship was worth it.
Your wedding day was the happiest of your life, and your honeymoon was spent with love and affection and you often looked back upon those memories whenever you felt down.
And now, you cried over them.
You cried because those days were gone. You no longer had the job that fulfilled you so much, you no longer had the husband who cared for you so earnestly you thought you didn’t deserve him, and not even the memories of your honeymoon made you happy – they just made you resent whatever your life had become. Trapped inside your own home, terrified of your husband.
What the hell had happened?
“Darling, I’m so sorry…” Aaron crouched down next to you, and this time, you made no efforts to move. You were too tired, too heartbroken to do something other than cry and mourn what you thought was your current life. Did Aaron even love you anymore? Did you want to leave him, or did you just want this misery to stop? And even if you did leave him, what was to become of you? Your bank accounts belonged to him – he’d convinced you it was better, since you were married and working towards a future together – you’d lost all contact with your friends after Aaron convinced you it was for the best and cut all ties with your family.
“I just want our old life back,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your hands.
You didn’t realise Aaron’s arms were wrapped tightly around you until he pressed you against his chest. It was comforting, to be in his arms, but you also felt like you were suffocating, like once you gave up, he’d consume you whole and you would never belong to anyone else but him – not even yourself.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just…” Aaron ran his fingers through your hair, making sure all his touch was focused on bringing you comfort. His touch was both feather-like and crushing at the same time, and you thought the combination was fitting, considering your last couple of weeks. You also thought it would kill you, how sweetly he was holding you, but how his iron grip would not let you go. Perhaps it was already doing it. Perhaps you were already dead. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to fight. “I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. You mean everything to me.”
You wanted to fight. You wanted to scream and yell and push him away and get the hell out of that house. You wanted this madness to be over. You wanted your independence back, your freedom, you wanted to go out and live a life of your own instead of living his.
But you were so tired.
Tired of fighting and arguing when you knew he wouldn’t listen. Tired of witnessing displays of violence that had increased over the weeks. Tired of being so miserable.
Was it your fault? Was it your own doing that you were so unhappy in your life?
“I can’t lose you…” Aaron kept on speaking, stroking your hair and holding you as if you were a precious jewel he wanted to protect – or a most wanted criminal he could not let escape. “I can’t stand to lose someone I love, not again… Please forgive me…”
Perhaps if you hadn’t gone out, none of this would’ve happened.
Maybe Aaron was right.
He did give you everything you could ever want, didn’t you? You asked for a book, and there it was days later. You weren’t one for material things, but if you expressed a desire for a pair of shoes or some jewellery, he’d buy that for you in a heartbeat.
“You mean everything to me, darling, you really do…”
Weakly, you moved your arms around your husband, fully embracing him. You sobbed loudly, your whole body shaking, wrapped tightly in his. It felt like home, it felt like where you were meant to be, but it also felt like prison.
“I’m so unhappy, Aaron… I can’t do this anymore…” you shook your head, burying your face in his chest, taking in his scent, trying to ground yourself. “I feel like I have nothing to live for. Can’t you understand it? I have nothing, all day, every day. And when you’re gone away on cases, I’m so lonely.”
Suddenly, an idea went off in Aaron’s head.
Of course. How come he hadn’t thought of it yet?
“I can’t do this anymore, Aaron, I’m so lonely and I feel trapped… If you truly love me, you’ll understand, won’t you?” How you were still fighting, you had no idea. What were you asking of him? Freedom? A bit of leeway? For him to put you out of your misery?
“Maybe… maybe what you need is something to keep you grounded,” he muttered, pulling back slightly to look you in the eye. He saw the way your eyebrows scrunched together and caressed your cheek with his hand. Instinctively, you leaned into it and Aaron smiled. He still had that effect on you.
“A baby.”
You stilled in his arms.
A what?
“Someone to love and take care of,” he continued, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb. “It’ll give you a sense of purpose. You won’t be lonely anymore, and you’ll never feel the need to leave again.”
How it had taken so long for Aaron to realise this, he had no clue. You’d talked about kids, sure, but it was always a “future you” kind of thing. Right now, you were enjoying your life together, and children weren’t in the picture.
But as he pictured you, round and swollen with his child, he felt a tug in his heart and a strain in his pants. Yes. A child. You’d carry on his legacy and have a sense of fulfilment as you loved and cared for his child. And you would not be able to leave, since you’d be too much of a good mother to abandon your baby. And you wouldn’t be too cruel as to take the baby from their father.
It was exactly what you two needed – a baby, to cure your relationship, to heal what was so hurt and damaged right now. He could see it clear as day, you, lovingly caressing your pregnant belly as you sat in your garden, glowing more than the sun itself. He saw you smiling one of your most breathtaking smiles at him, reaching out for his hand so he could feel his son or daughter kick.
He could see you breastfeeding your baby in the living room, cooing at them and caressing their chubby cheeks. He could see you putting your child to sleep with so much adoration, it’d make his heart burst as he watched from the doorway.
Yes.
A baby, a little child with his eyes and your smile, or your nose and his chin.
It was everything you needed.
You still clung to Aaron, holding him tightly as if he were a lifeline. You looked into his eyes and knew exactly what you were picturing, saw exactly what he saw.
And for once, you were too tired to argue. Too afraid.
Your life did not belong to you anymore – it was Aaron’s, to mold and shape and do whatever he wanted with it. Not even your own body was yours anymore – it was now something for him to possess and bend and twist as he desired. He’d give you his child and you’d carry it because that was the only thing you could do. You did not belong to yourself anymore.
And as Aaron looked at you, eyes devoid of any spark, of any spirit, he caressed your cheek and kissed your forehead.
“Trust me, darling,” he whispered against your face. “Everything I do is for you. I love you more than anything.”
You nodded.
You were completely, utterly, irrevocably his.
“You just need to see that.”
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A/N: And that's it!!! I really hope you guys have enjoyed it!
Again, I just really wanted to explore a scenario where Aaron was this extremely posessive and abusive partner - I don't really know why but it was stuck in my head and I had to write it down. Oops. Sorry.
I also tried something different with the layout - hopefully it looks fun! I want it to be easier to tell the Pairing, the Word Counts, the Warnings and the Author's Note from each other, so hopefully this will help make it look less bulky lol.
Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed it!
Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone! <3
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heeseung-min · 2 days
Note
Can you write about Yandere Jungwon being rejected?
[21:29]
"I'm sorry but I like someone else."
"What?"
Jungwon felt his heart crushed so bad after heard what you said to his confession. Had he read everything wrong? Didn't you like him and was too shy to admit it?
"What do you mean, Y/n? You like me right? You are just too shy to admit it. I've seen you stared at me in the class."
You were flabbergasted at what he said. It's not really wrong but it's not 100 percent right either. True, you were staring in the class but not to him. You were looking at the person beside him, Sangwon. Jungwon read the situation wrong and now you felt guilty because of it.
"Jungwon, I'm really sorry but it's completely wrong. I was staring at Sangwon not you. I'm really sorry if you think it was for you."
Not only Jungwon felt embarrassed but he also felt angry and mad towards his cousin, Sangwon. Why does he got your attention? Why would you want to be with his cousin when you could be with him. Thankfully, the class was empty so they can't see what is happening between both of you.
You wanted to say more but Jungwon already went to his seat without even looking at you. You too went back to your seat when some of the classmates started to arrive. You saw Sangwon came and asked Jungwon why his face was gloomy but Jungwon just shook his head and do revision instead.
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You were having a date together with Sangwon. Few days after Jungwon confessed to you, Sangwon came and asked you out in front of the class. Based on his expression, seems like he didn't know that Jungwon likes you. Probably, Jungwon never tells his cousin about it.
"Are you okay, Y/n?"
"Hmm?"
Sangwon stared at you curiously. He was excited to know that you like him and asked you for a date but now you seems like not excited about it anymore.
"Ah yeah yeah I'm okay. I'm just a bit nervous."
The date went smooth but you still feel nervous whenever you looked to Sangwon's eyes. His face is similar to Jungwon so it kept reminding you to what happened few days ago.
Sangwon dropped you off after the date's over. You thanked him before went inside your house. However, when you came into the house, the strong smell of blood went through your nose.
You felt hopeless when you found out your dad was lying down dead with his stomach got stabbed. The strong smell from blood made you wanted to puke. You were taken back when you saw Jungwon was sitting beside him.
"Jung..won..."
Jungwon turned to you while his finger still fiddling with the knife that you believed he used to stab your father. The sight of him smiling with blood stain on his face made him looked so creepy.
"Oh y/n, you are home. How was the date with Sangwon? Was it exciting?"
Jungwon asked but you couldn't say anything when he was looking so creepy. He stood up and started to walk closer to you.
"I can't stand you with someone else, Y/n."
"You are crazy."
You stepped back to get away from him but Jungwon was quick to hold your shoulder. At this point, you can only cried and begged for him to let you go.
"Jungwon, this is wrong."
"If you didn't reject me maybe this will not happen, Y/n."
"Are you hearing yourself?! You killed my father just because I rejected you?!!"
"And I will do it again to others. Until you don't have anyone anymore."
Jungwon said as he caressed your hair like he was assuring you but instead he was threatening.
"I will make you depend to me only, Y/n."
You don't know where you got the courage but your hand moved by yourself and instantly punching him on the face. The impact is strong and made Jungwon lose his focus. You quickly ran away from him and throw things to slow his down.
"You think you can escape me?"
"Shut the fuck up, Jungwon."
"It sounds sweet when my name coming out from your mouth."
You ran to the kitchen and picked up a knife and shoved it to Jungwon. He smirked at the sight of you.
"You come close, I will kill you."
"Really, Y/n? Can you do that actually?"
Jungwon took one step closer and you were freaking out. The knife you shoved towards him didn't scare him at all.
"STAY THE FUCK AWAY OR I WILL- AHH"
Jungwon watched you fell down to the floor and passed out. He catched the knife so it won't fall and hurt your face. There was a little blood on your temple as a sign from being hit just now. He stared up at the person.
"That was good, Sangwon."
"You should not question the home run hitter, Jungwon."
Oh, how sick both of they are.
You thought you get with a good guy but no guys actually are good to be with.
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Taglist: @stacey-stonem @huggyuvita @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @eeunoia @rowretro @soireegurl
I did this while I was in hiatus so it's a bit boring but I hope you guys still enjoy it 😚😚😚
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fukcnoplease · 3 days
Text
Things always go wrong pt5
Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4
 The man immediately rushed to correct her, tripping over his words as his hands moved wildly, too fast for her to see. Dani knew this wasn't any kind of kidnapping or imprisonment. They couldn't catch her if they tried, not without ghost equipment, but it was kind of fun to mess with this giant of a man. Who clearly had super speed as his hands and words began to go so fast she couldn't understand either. Concerning, sure, but not enough to thwart her thirst for chaos or the urge to poke fun at this seemingly superpowered teddy bear. 
“Am I gonna die here?” She asked, putting on her best scared kitten act. The man froze as he made an interesting set of noises in response to Dani’s question. She wasn't entirely sure they could be made by humans but she wasn't too worried. Her vague understanding of the superheroes around the world did mean she knew at least a few aliens existed in their ranks. She didn't know any of them by name though.
“I hope you understand that no one, no one, on this station would ever try and harm you.” The man said after taking a deep breath. A little rich since Batman had only recently tried to stick them in a lab but it was the thought that counted she supposed. He seemed to get more uncomfortable if she just stared at him silently though, so she kept silent in her scared little kitten act. Honestly it was kind of a riot seeing the man panic over things she knew were unimportant.
“Look! I’ll bring you to Batman and he can explain everything. How about that?” He said and Dani frowned. Batman likely wouldn't be as much of a help as Wonder Woman but if this guy wasn't going to bring her to the lasso lady then might as well go to Batman. Maybe she could even convince him to let her leave. 
Dani nodded, shyly as she could muster, at the big man and he relaxed. He went to pick her up but she stepped away, not even as an act, and he fumbled with his hands before nodding briskly and turning towards a hallway. She followed him a little ways in a big meeting room, extra long dining table with too many chairs and another big, massive computer at the end of the room. It was a little scary how many way too fancy computers Dani had come across in only 24 hours. 
Well, only two, but that was still more than the average person would in their lifetime.
Batman stood at the computer and typed at a raised keyboard. Dani had seen Jazz use a stand up desk, she said it was good for back posture and stress. She always talked about how posture was important and how it could affect you when you were older. Probably didn't mean much with ghost genetics so Dani never cared. 
“BR-” The red caped crusader almost shouted as he walked in but was cut off by something hitting him directly in the forehead. He cried out when it exploded in his face as well. Dani would be lying if she said it didn't make her flinch, which is why she didn't say anything.
“Batman.” The man said again, rubbing his blackened forehead, “I wanted you to explain to- well, this child? That she was not in danger while on the station nor that she was kidnapped or imprisoned.” 
Batman looked at the man then at Dani and scowled. Now that Dani was feeling better, and a little distracted from her brother dying, she started to notice how rude Batman was. He always scowled whenever they interacted and while she wasn't the best person in the world she certainly wasn't that bad. Well, not according to her anyway. “I want to leave.” She said. The caped man, she was really struggling not to just call him Teddy, looked shocked at her sudden firmness but Batman just stared her down. She racked her brain for a way to sound regal and vague when Batman cut her off with a simple answer. “No.” He said. “What?” She and Teddy said in unison. “No. Its been established that you are not safe on earth. We had medical bays if you need them and we have yet to confirm your royal status. There are heroes on the way to help with that. You will stay here.” He said. Dani could feel her ectoplasm churn and her core thrum with anger. “You don't have the right to refuse me passage back to earth. My allies can aid me more than you can and I will force my way to them if I need to.” She growled. Batman’s scowl only deepend. “There is no way we can confirm your allies are safe and until we can confirm your status you are as much of an unknown threat as they are. The Watchtower has all the facilities needed to help you. You will stay here.” Batman said before turning back to the computer. Dani was fuming, if Danny wasnt potentially withering away in another room she would have destroyed this place. “Batman, I know you feel the need to protect them but they are just kids. Can't we at least hear them out?” Teddy said and Dani felt immensely grateful for him. Maybe she would even lighten up on her bullying. Maybe.
“Kids can be more dangerous.” Was all Batman said and Teddy huffed.
“Yours, maybe, but we can't hold every kid to the standard of a robin, can we?” Teddy said and Batman finally looked back at him.
“Not every kid is a meta either.” He said and went back to work. Dani could feel Teddy flex as he grew more agitated.
“Batman.” He said lowly, and Dani instinctively took a step away from him. Batman didn't respond, but he did pause at where he was typing. There was a silence before the clack of keys started up again. Teddy took a deep breath before pressing something on his wrist, a light flashed red and he spoke into it. “Wonder Woman? Can you please come to the main meeting room? There is a young child who wishes to be escorted home.” He said. Dani looked as shocked as Batman did but she recovered faster. “Thank you!” She cried as she launched at Teddy and hugged his neck. He stiffened in shock but relaxed quickly enough to hug her back before she pulled away.
“Superman.” Batman said, he sounded angry but not enough to concern Dani. She did spin to do a double take at Teddy though.
“Wait, Superman? You’re superman?” She asked incredulously as she looked the man up and down. His costume made sense for the name, both the S on the front and the absurdity of it. “Yes?” Superman said, confused by why Dani was so surprised, “Did you not recognize me?” “Well, I guess I just expected Superman to look more… I don't know. Super?” She said. Someone laughed from the entryway and they turned to see Wonder Woman laughing at the doorway. “Praytell, how did you think he would look?” The woman laughed as she entered the room. Batman gave a grunt but was ignored in favor of the child now deep in thought. “I guess like, red skin? Fire hair? Maybe extra arms?” She said, “A cooler outfit?” Superman looked like a wounded puppy at her words and she felt a little bad. Wonder Woman started laughing again and quickly closed the distance between them, which Dani was surprisingly OK with.
“I suppose that truly would have been super,” She chuckled before composing herself, “Now what was this about a child wanting to go home?” Batman stepped forward this time. Dani felt the humor wash out of her as she glared down the man now officially holding her prisoner. “Until royal status can be confirmed both the metas will be staying on the Watchtower until further notice.” He said. Wonder Woman hummed as she looked at him, hip cocked in a friendly but challenging stance.
“And you?” She addressed Dani and Dani fumbled to find the right words. Batman couldnt look more sour if he tried.
“My friends are in Gotham, they can help more than you can but I need to get to them.” Dani managed as Wonder Woman watched her. It didnt feel as challenging or doubtful as it did when she was looking at Batman but it was still intimidating. “I see. And would you let us meet your friends?” She asked. Dani blinked. She hadnt thought of that. If they were in Gotham they would end up on Batmans turf regardless so the chances of him meeting the phantom gang was already pretty high. If they initiated though, maybe it would be easier when they eventually cause problems in the city? Or it would be worse because Batman would already know where to find them. “I can ask.” Dani said as she pulled out her phone from her torso, which shocked the heroes present. As Dani began typing, Wonder Woman turned to Batman. “I appreciate your desire to ensure there wasn't a dimensional war threat but there is an ill royal ambassador. Having an ambassador die under our care would have a similar effect to attacking them directly. Especially if we were denying them what could be life saving treatment.” She said. Batman grunted and stepped away from Dani, creating a small circle of just the heroes. Too far for normal hearing perhaps, but not for Dani’s enhanced hearing. “We have a medical bay on the Watchtower.” He grumbled and Wonder woman sighed. “Yes, but we cannot force them to use it. If they wish to use their own medicine that is their choice. Especially since we know nothing about them.” She scolded. Dani could have sworn Batman almost winced at her words. She sped up typing.
TravelerOfWorlds
Ok so 1) the heroes want to meet you guys
2) I think Wonder Woman is my favorite hero
3) Batman is my least favorite hero
EcoTerrorist
Why do the heroes want to meet us?
TravelerOfWorlds
Unclear. I think its just to establish you are real and not going to kill us.
EcoTerrorist
We are real. Depends on what Danny did to end up more dead.
But I am willing to meet a hero if thats what it takes to get Danny here.
TravelerOfWorlds
As in just one?
EcoTerrorist
As in just one. 
And only if we get Danny first.
Dani squinted at the screen and sighed. She had lost where the heroes conversation was going but that just made it easier to interrupt.
“Excuse me?” Dani waited for Wonder Woman to hold a hand up to silence the arguing men as she turned to Dani and nodded for her to continue. “My… allies decided that they are willing to meet one hero. Just one. And only if my ambassador gets dropped off first.” Batman grunted but it was Wonder Woman who stepped up to talk. “Would you be willing to settle for a hero helping you drop off the ambassador?” she asked and Dani nodded.
“Yeah, I think that will work. They just need to get to the ambassador as soon as possible. I dont think they care about much more than that.” Dani said. Batman shifted behind Wonder Woman and Superman glared at him.
“Thats fine then. Do you know where you need to be dropped off?” Wonder woman asked and Dani sent another quick text asking for the address before nodding. “Somewhere in Gotham. I have the address if that helps.” Dani said. Wonder Woman paused thoughtfully before smiling, a bit too wide. “Well, Batman knows Gotham the best. Im sure he can help you and I think it would be best if he was the one to meet your friends. If your staying in Gotham, its probably best to know the local hero you can call upon.” She said. Dani scrunched her nose and Batman scowled. There was no way Dani was going to be asking Batman for help. Not if she had anything to say about it. 
Except she didnt, because just as she was about to argue a crackling static filled the air around them. It sounded like tv static but layered underneath was the high pitch keen of electricity and a faint scream. Dani would recognize Danny’s ghost speech anywhere and was moving before any of the league had recovered from hearing the eerie sound. 
Batman was first to recover, closely followed by Wonder woman and Superman as they followed the young, alleged monarch through the hallways of the watchtower. Dani didnt struggle to find her way back to the small room, Danny’s call for her being something of a homing beacon.
She slammed her hand on the keypad and the door opened to a tangled-in-sheets Danny who was face planted half off the bed. When he saw her the keen of electricity shifted into the pops and bangs of fuses blowing and he reached a hand for her.
She was quick to grab it and help him back onto the bed, untangling him as her own ghost speech layered on his. Her static overlayed with the sound of bubbles escaping liquid and splashes of something more viscous than water.
Once Danny had her in eyesight and her hand in his he started to calm down. The static dimmed and eventually stopped but he never stopped looking at Dani. It would be disconcerting if Dani wasnt freaking out about Danny using his ghost speech so publicly. 
Some weaker ghosts used ghost speech regularly because it took less energy than projecting feelings core to core, distinct words were even more taxing, but Danny was powerful. He was the King of the Infinite Realms. He hated broadcasting the sounds of his death and he always had the energy to project entire paragraphs into someone's core. 
“We need to get him to Gotham now.” Dani said and she moved to try to pick Danny up but was pulled back by Wonder Woman. She wanted to growl or hiss or something but Batman was already moving to pick up Danny, who was still carefully watching his little sister.
Dani moved quickly to stay with Batman as he made his way to the boom tubes. Behind them she caught the barest whispers between Wonder Woman and Superman.
“He is an impressive warrior. He never let his gaze waver, even in such a state.” Wonder Woman commented. 
“Still worrying. With all the powers she has casually shown, I have to wonder what got him in such a state in the first place.” Superman added. Dani lost the conversation as they moved away and towards the metal cones.
The journey back was moderately better than the journey there, especially now that she knew what to expect. She still made sure to grip Danny’s hand tightly and send comforting thrums to his core as they passed through.
His eyes flashed a brighter green and he shuddered when they exited the swirling vortex but that was all and Dani was going to count that as a win.
The crazy batcar rolled up in front of them before they had even stepped off the boom tube platform and the doors popped open. Batman carefully put Danny in the back and Dani climbed in after him. The doors closed as Batman got situated in the drivers seat and they were off. Down the same path they used to enter, the crazy bat cave shrinking behind them until it was swallowed by the darkness of the tunnel.
Batman didnt pull up any directions for the address, didnt even give it a second look, he just drove in silence, which Dani was grateful for. She didnt have much choice but to go with him since Danny needed help sooner rather than later and arguing with Batman would have taken too much time. Time that Danny desperately needed. It didnt mean Dani had to be happy about it though.
They exited the tunnels into the dingy light of a clouded sky, blinding Dani. Huge gothic buildings towered around them, modern skyscrapers awkwardly built in between the historical stone. It was actually kind of endearing. The mish mosh of styles and buildings and the giant gargoyles on every building. If it was under different circumstances Dani might have loved visiting Gotham.
As it were they pulled into an alley next to a nicer skyscraper, one that was clearly trying to bridge the gap between modern and historic. Batman parked by the dumpsters and went to pick up Danny. “I can carry him.” Dani said, pulling the dazed halfa towards herself. Batman paused, a frown permanently pasted on his face, but stepped back. He moved to the nearby staff entrance and opened the door for Dani. After some cajoling and awkward shifting, she had Danny in a piggyback hold. It wasnt the most comfortable but after a few years Danny had stopped being the small teen and grown into a lanky young adult. Sure he weighed nothing to Dani but his awkward length made him unruly to carry with her smaller body. She still wasnt going to let Batman carry him though so she could suck it up.
The door was clearly a staff entrance so Dani was a little surprised it had been left unlocked but elected to not focus on that. Batman led them through the staff walkways and to the elevators, thankfully no one was around. Dani might have keeled over if someone had seen her getting into a fancy elevator with THE Batman. 
She might keel over just having to be in the fancy elevator with the Batman. It was a long elevator ride to experience in complete silence, excluding Batman’s breathing. Damn, Sam’s parents for getting them a penthouse on the top floors of a skyscraper.
~~~ Hey gang sorry for how long this took, lots of stuff happening hopefully the next bit will be out sooner than later
thanks for waiting and for all the positive feedback this isnt beta read so sorry about the grammar
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