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#foot lamp in bedroom
of-many-fandomss · 4 months
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Drinks and Jackets
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pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: lando comes home drunk and doesn’t recognize you, and you can’t help but swoon at the devotion your boyfriend has for you
warnings: drinking, slight cursing
word count: 0.9k
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
A long sigh left Lando’s lips as he pushed his bedroom door open, stumbling slightly in his steps as he did so, needing to cling onto the door frame for support so he didn’t go flying face first into the carpeted floor of his bedroom.
After inhaling a deep breath from his nose- the man's eyebrows furrowed in concentration- he pushed off of the frame and attempted to shrug his jacket off of his shoulders. Which only ended in him banging into the wall next to his bed with a small, “Ow,”.
“Lan?” A soft voice rang through the darkness of the room after the thud was emitted.
Norris jumped at least a foot into the air with a small, high pitched squeal of surprise, whipping around with wide eyes just in time to see a figure turn on the lamp beside the bed.
You were tiredly rubbing at your eyes, pushed up on one elbow as you looked at him from across the room, imminently taking note of his wide eyes and tousled hair. Not to mention the fact that he only had one arm through the sleeve of his jacket.
Slight amusement crept onto your features when you realized you had startled him, though a hint of guilt kept you from openly laughing as you gently asked, “Are you alright?” Sleep lacing your tone.
The wide eyes of Lando didn’t shrink. In fact, they only seemed to widen as he looked at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads right before his very eyes, “Who are you?” He hissed, panic and confusion seizing his tone.
At his words, all of the exhaust suddenly disappeared from your body and you finally pushed yourself to fully be sitting up, now wide awake and alert, “What-”
You didn’t even get to finish voicing your bewilderment before Lando- literally- stumbled over his own feet to reach the opposite side of the bed you were sitting on, “That’s my girlfriend's spot!” He exclaimed, eyes still wide as he stared at you.
Your eyebrows drew downwards, “I know, it-”
“Listen, I’m warning you lady, you need to get out of here before she gets back.” He was nodding along to his own words. While he clearly thought he was looking very serious- and maybe even threatening- it was difficult to even consider him whilst he looked hilarious. Clearly drunk and jacket half hanging off of him.
And just like that, the mumsnet flickered back inside of you and a slow grin slowly lifted the corners of your lips, “Is that so?” You asked, playing along when you realized just how drunk he was.
Lando nodded again, “Yeah, and she could kick your ass.” He said it so matter of factly with his chin raised, clear pride laying in his words, even as wasted as he currently was.
Unable to hold it back anymore, you let the first chuckle slip out of your lips as you pushed yourself to your knees and made your way over to the other side of the bed until you were in front of him at eye level.
You reached out and hooked your arms around his neck, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at him lovingly, “And what if I wanted to kiss you right now?” You teased.
Just as the brunette man's eyes widened in a panic and he looked as though he was going to move to swat you away, he froze, blinking once. Twice. Three times at you.
“Love?” He looked like a little, lost puppy dog when he tilted his head to the side, the first bit of recognition flaring through his eyes when he finally realized that it was you in front of him, not some random girl sleeping in his bed.
“You had fun with Carlos and Danny, I take it.” You joked, subconsciously toying with his curls.
“Oh, love, I missed you so much.” Lando gushed suddenly, face automatically becoming alight and housing a lovesick expression.
A laugh escaped your lips as the man wrapped his arms around your center and brought you both flying down onto the mattress before holding you close, his eyes already shutting as he let out a hum of content.
You chuckled, watching as he snuggled closer to you, inhaling the scent of your hair with his eyes still squeezed shut.
Gently, you maneuvered the two of you so that his head was resting against your chest and you were the one cradling him. He let you do so without an ounce of argument, the soft smile still sitting on his lips as he held you close.
Despite the fact that his jacket was still only half off of him and he was yet to change out of his clothes that he was in to go out, you knew from past experience that there was nothing on earth that could pull Lando off of you at that moment. Even to get fully ready for bed.
So, instead, you held him close, running your fingers through his hair after flicking off of the lamp light and waited for your boy to fall asleep.
“I love you,” The words were mumbled against your old sleep shirt with the man himself being halfway to sleep.
“I love you too, Lan.” You dipped your head to place a lingering kiss on the man's forehead, “So much.”
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frightwrite · 2 months
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Werewolf Boyfriend: Aiden
CW: Breeding, Mention of pregnancy, Biting, Mention of blood
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NSFW
Female Reader x Male Werewolf
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It has been almost a week since your boyfriend last contacted you. It was a common occurrence, something that happened once every month. You at first assumed it was a work thing, too many projects added up before a quarter ended. But then the excuses started to come in. He needed to head back home to spend time with his family, he felt so sick he didn’t want to pass it onto you, unexpected guests. The list was never ending. It was starting to get to the point where you were assuming he had a secret lover. From your perspective it was the only logical option. Enough was enough you were going to get to the bottom of this.
That evening, Aiden had called you saying he wouldn’t be at his home since he had too much work in his office to fill out. As usual, you gave him the usual sugar-coated response of seeing him after he was done. As soon as the call hung up, you half haphazardly threw on your shirt and jeans before snatching your boyfriend’s spare key off the countertop. You probably looked insane, speeding down the highway in a fit of rage to catch your boyfriend red handed. It was a miracle you weren’t pulled over.
When you arrived at his secluded home on the outskirts of town, you used the key to enter. It was clear even before you set foot past the threshold that his place looked as though a tornado had ripped through it. His living room which was normally kept neat and orderly, had many of his books thrown around. The coffee table was flipped over and there were scratch marks in the leather of the couch. There were a bunch of rose petals and stems on the floor mixed in with shards of glass from a broken vase. You carefully stepped over it, trying not to accidentally step on any of the glass. The house was dark, save for a few novelty lamps that Aiden kept around throughout the home. The dim lighting created an eerie presence that you weren’t too sure about.
Your anger was quickly replaced with fear as you called out your boyfriend’s name, a slight tremble in your voice. It was like something out of a horror movie, and you mentally hit yourself for acting in such a cliche way. Calling out into the emptiness of the house was a quick and easy way to get yourself killed if the intruder was still there. Your heart sank at the thought, your eyes scanning the room to find a weapon to defend yourself with. Silently hoping that despite the mess and clear look of a struggle, you were able to find Aiden in one piece.
A long wooden beam from one of the broken dining room chairs was leaned up against the wall. It was basic, but it was a good enough weapon to hit an unsuspecting murderer over the head with. It could buy you some time. You called out Aiden’s name again as you made your way deeper into the house, a new found determination guiding you through the terrifying situation. 
A low rumble coming from the bedroom made you freeze. It didn’t sound human, and for a moment you wondered if whatever trashed Aiden’s place was one of the animals from the woods nearby. Your mind settled on it being a bear and you decided to try to be as quiet as possible from that point on. The grip you had on your makeshift weapon tightened as you took another step forward. As if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you, the floorboard creaked underneath your foot. You only had time to let out a brief curse before a heavy object flew into you, slamming you onto the floor. The air was pushed out of your lungs and your vision was blurred as your head spun. A low rumbling sound was heard above you after the ringing in your ears stopped and you blinked up at the black mass above you in confusion. Sitting on your body was a giant wolf like being. His beady eyes peered down at you as he let out a low growl. You stilled, your blood running cold as your heart hammered against your chest. 
The furry beast above you kept snarling, his sharp teeth bared and visible in the low lighting. He leaned down and you squeezed your eyes shut as his wet nose pressed against your neck. This was it, you were going to die at the hands of a rabid wolf monster and the last thoughts you had of your boyfriend were him cheating on you. You gave a silent apology to Aiden, waiting for you to befall the same unfortunate fate he had. Only, nothing happened. There was another brief pause until you felt something rough and wet against your neck. You shuddered at the feeling before reopening your eyes. The monster above you stared down at you, his ears now pressed flat against his head as he seemed to want to shrink into himself. 
A strange sound between a whimper and a howl left his jaw as he moved his large body off of you, giving you a moment to catch your breath and sit up. You gave the creature a curious look as the wolf creature said your name. Your eyes widened and you pushed away from the beast to bring distance between the two of you. 
“Why are you here?” He snarled. 
“I’m sorry? I don’t, um—” You tried speaking, feeling your voice get caught in your throat. He let out a low grumble. 
“It’s Aiden.”
You blinked. 
The werewolf in front of you watched as you stared at him, squinting your eyes as you assessed him and his demeanor. He remained unmoving, yet his heavy breathing was still filling in for the silence. The realization came across your face as you inched closer to him, staring into his familiar eyes. 
“Who…what happened to you?” Your voice quivered, a small amount of fear flashed on your face as he let out another snarl. Aiden seemed to struggle internally with himself,  his wolfish face turning away from you to avoid both your gaze and your scent. He moved to create space between the both of you again, his hulking form crouched on his hind legs as his beady eyes watched you intently from a safe distance. 
“Lycanthropy.” His voice was low as he spoke again, yet there was a hint of shame behind it as he shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this, ever. Especially tonight.”
You let what he said register in your mind before asking, “What’s so special about tonight?”
A low growl, this time his gaze turned to you briefly. “Heat cycle.”
Oh
Oh.
Your face got heated with embarrassment as you readjusted yourself. The only reason your boyfriend was avoiding you was because it was his werewolf breeding season thing and not because he was cheating on you. Which, when you put it that way, caused your heart to leap. You and Aiden weren’t virgins, having both already had sex with each other multiple times. You knew his body well. The little scars on his hands from various paper cuts, the mole just above his v-line, the little freckles on his torso. 
The large fuzzy body of Aiden now was new. Different…unexplored. His heated gaze watched as you stood up and closed the distance between the both of you. He backed away from you until his back hit against the hallway’s wall. His clawed hand shot up in front of him as the other went to cover his muzzle. 
“Don’t.” He growled, causing you to pause in your tracks. “Don’t you come any closer. I don’t want to hurt you.” 
You paused in your approach, the panic-stricken look only motivating you to alleviate his worries. Without another word, your hands reached up to unbutton the blouse you wore, tossing the shirt to the side. You could hear Aiden’s breath hitch at the sight of your bare chest, quickly taking notice how you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. You were in a hurry to leave your house and taking the extra time to put on a bra seemed tedious at that moment.
You approached Aiden who was captivated by your presence. His eyes staring hungrily at your curvy frame. He had seen you naked many times, but his senses seemed heightened. He was more affected by you and it took everything within him not to pounce on you right then and there. You slotted yourself between his legs, hands reaching up to caress the sides of his furry face. There was a low rumble that came from within him as you assumed you were managing to break through the wall he had put up. Your lips curved into a sweet smile, leaning closer so your chest pressed up against his. You shuddered at the feeling of your breasts rubbing against his fur, your nipples hardening at the contact. You lifted your chin up and stood on your toes, your lips brushed against the tip of his muzzle. 
“I want to help you, Aiden.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. You watched excitedly as he growled down at you, before picking you up as though you weighed nothing. He spent no time taking you into his bedroom, the room looking a little worse for wear. This room looked the worst out of the others and as he walked towards his bed, you noticed a few of the panties you would leave at his place scattered across the floor. You could only imagine what he was using those for. He threw you onto the bed and you didn’t have a chance to register your train of thought before he towered over you.
“You…have no idea what you’re asking me to do to you.” His large hands pinned yours onto the mattress, his voice a low rumble as he spoke to you. The tone he had sounded feral, the low growl causing you to feel butterflies in your stomach. He leaned down, licking your neck and biting your shoulder to mark you. You yelped as you could feel small trickles of blood leak down your shoulder. The feeling of his teeth on you made you rub your thighs together in anticipation and you could already feel yourself throbbing with need. 
His focus went to your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick the valley between them before his mouth latched onto one of your nipples. His attention to your breasts had you squirming from his touch, moaning out his name just from how he sucked on your nipples. His tongue then went lower down your chest and past your stomach. He licked and left occasional love bites along the way, marking up your body more. He stopped when his muzzle brushed against your jeans, a low guttural sound came from his throat as he pressed his nose to your clothed cunt. He inhaled your scent, the smell intoxicating him causing him to pant. His hips rut against the bedsheets, desperate to feel some type of friction on his hardened cock. 
Your own arousal was obvious when he peered up at you with his wolfish eyes. The predatory gaze he had on you made a shudder crawl up your spine. He was holding back, waiting. He desperately needed your approval before he could continue and he was still weary about hurting you by mistake. You clicked your tongue, lifting your hips up in a feeble attempt to rub against his muzzle. 
“Please, Aiden,” You begged. “Just fuck me already.”
That was the last restraint you finally snapped off of him and he instantly tore off your jeans. You gasped, frowning at the sight of your favorite pair of jeans being torn to shreds but quickly forgot about them as soon as the werewolf kneeling in front of you began to ravage your cunt with his tongue. 
“You taste…so good...so sweet.” You could hear his muffled growls and groans as he ate you out. It was sloppy, and you were making a mess of him as you got closer to the edge. His claws dug into your plump thighs, pushing them together so your legs rested over his shoulders squeezing his head between them. His tongue flicked over your clit, the feeling making you cry out his name again. Your thighs clenched around him as you came, your back arching slightly off the bed as you shook from your orgasm. 
You tried to catch your breath as Aiden kept licking and slurping up your juices. When he finally pulled away from you, you could see in the dim lighting his cock was erect. You let out a quiet gasp when you saw how big he was, much bigger than the previous times you had sex with him. A dark chuckle came from Aiden as he climbed onto the bed to peer down at you. His arms were on either side of your body, his large form caging you against the mattress.
“Scared? I’m much bigger than before…” His cock rested against your stomach, and seeing just how far it would stretch into you caused your cunt to clench around nothing. You were desperate for him to breed you, to bury his cock into you and fuck you until you passed out. Aiden lifted you suddenly and flipped you over onto your stomach, pushing you into the mattress as he rubbed his cock against your slick entrance. He was panting heavily above you and you kept a firm grip on the bed sheets to brace yourself for when he entered you. 
“Gonna fill you up…” He growled, slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. You could feel your pussy stretching around his girth, already trying to adjust to his large size. Despite how desperate Aiden was to breed you, he still slowly sheathed his cock into you until he couldn’t fit himself inside you anymore. He waited just a moment, taking it as a silent approval when you switched your grip on the bed sheets to hold onto his wrist. He slowly pulled himself out of you before slamming back into you. 
You cried out at the sudden change in speed as Aiden lost any part of him that was hesitant. Now all that was left was this beast that had one animalistic desire to fuck you into the mattress. His pace quickened, growling at the site of his cock plunging into you. He didn’t stop the quick pace he was going at, his balls slapping against your clit every time he rutted against you. The tip of his dick briefly touched your cervix and you could help but try to rock your hips back into him just to replicate the same feeling again. 
You were a mess, tears streaming down your face as your lips opened to let out nothing but a slur of moans and Aiden’s name. Aiden roared above you, his claws tearing into the mattress as he clenched his hands into the bedding. The wet claps filled the room along with your pleas to be filled, the sound only urging Aiden to pound into you more. “So pretty for me…I’m not stopping…want to cum…fill you up….so bad.” 
You weren’t sure if that was Aiden speaking to you or the beast within him, either way his words only urged you to desperately beg for his cum. You were reaching another climax again, your pussy clenching tightly around Aiden’s cock as he thrust into you a few more times before coming to a halt. You could feel him enter deep inside you, his hot cum filling your needy pussy as he lifted his head to let out a wolfish howl. You could feel his knot pressing into you, plugging your hole so not a drop of his cum would leak out of you. He didn’t want any of it going to waste. He panted above you, and you felt lightheaded. You both tried to regain your breath, your sweaty body pressed into the mattress as Aiden kept you pinned down.  
It wasn’t long before Aiden’s knot calmed down enough for him to pull out of you as he flipped you over onto your back. You were spent, breathing heavily and still trying to come down from your high before Aiden’s erect cock entered your ravished hole again. He pinned your arms to the bed, leaning down and licking at the bite marks he had left on your breast. You let out a soft whimper, already anticipating the long breeding session he was about to put you through.
“We’re not done,” He growled your name, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he left another bite onto your collarbone. “I’m breeding you until your tummy swells with my pups.”
[More Monsters]
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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captive
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words: 3.2k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dark!rafe but he has soft moments hes trying, drugged!reader, kidnapping, DUB/NONCON, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, biting, nipple play, p in v sex, unprotected sex, anal sex, forced drug intake, snorting cocaine, smoking weed, poppers, mentions of pregnancy
“nooo.” you moan out, eyelids blinking heavily as you stare at the white powder along rafes finger. “im already-”
“no.” rafe says harshly, cutting off your protests. “i saw the way you were looking at the door. are you trying to leave me?”
“rafe-” you plead, but then his hand clamps harshly over your mouth, so tight no air could possibly get in. his finger presses against your nose, furious eyes watching yours as he waits for you to give up and inhale.
you feel dizzy, dizzy from the drugs already in your system and the lack of oxygen as you finally inhale, taking in the sweet air along with the drugs.
“that's it.” rafe pulls his hand away as you take in deep gulps of oxygen, scooping you up effortlessly as you recover and placing you down on the bed.
rafe keeps one eye on you as he prepares the room for nighttime, shutting the curtains and switching on lamps to bathe the room in soft light. he grabs your pajamas from the dresser, knowing he's just going to tear them off you later.
rafes foot falls are soft against the lush rug as he heads back over to the bed. “baby.” he says harshly when he sees your eyes are closed, tapping your cheek with increased hardness until your eyes open.
“im so tired.” you complain. “took too much.”
rafe just sighs. it's no more than he's given you on other days. the drugs keep you pliable, harmless, unable to escape. 
rafe can't let you leave him. he knows it's wrong, but he just needs to keep you fucked up enough until you forget that you want to leave in the first place. forget that your sweet boyfriend quickly turned evil when you told him you were leaving for college.
“stay awake, bunny.” rafe says. “it's what you get for trying to leave me.”
“the door is locked anyways.” you mumble. “even if i was looking at it i couldn't have left.”
you managed one time to twist the doorknob. to hear and feel the lock stop you. all your drugged up mind could manage was to turn back and lie in bed.
“do you want a little bedtime snack?” rafe asks, watching as you perk up, nodding enthusiastically.
rafe moves your body, manipulates it to the position he wants as you're laid sideways on the bed, head tipped back over the edge.
“dick first then ill get you a different snack.” rafe says, watching your eyes flutter in attempt to stay open as he tugs at his zipper, undoing his shorts and pushing them down along with his underwear in one quick movement.
“i can't.” you reach out and grip rafes thighs, head barely able to hold up as you look in his eyes with pleading in yours. “ill choke. im too-”
rafes hips plunge forward, pressing the length of his cock all down your face as your head falls, the next thrust sinking into your mouth as you resign to your task.
you focus on breathing through your nose as his cock repeatedly enters your mouth, somehow able to find enough compassion in himself to slowly build up his thrusts so he's not immediately down your throat.
“that's a good girl.” rafe coos, the praise making your head spin as you keep your hands gripped on his thighs.
rafes hands reach for your cheeks, pressing them together as he presses fully in now with every thrust, watching his cock bulge against your throat.
rafe lets out loud moans, unashamed of his vocality. it's not like you have enough mentality to judge him for it, especially not with the wet and choking sounds coming from you.
rafe does keep one eye on your chest. watching your heartbeat through the low cut shirt he put you in this morning. just in case. you mean far too much to rafe to let anything truly happen to you, even if it means him keeping you high as kite and locked away in his bedroom.
“close baby.” rafe tells you. he's never able to hold himself back for long when he gets you in a position like this. “so tight for me.”
rafe is fucking your mouth with as much furosity as he does your pussy, not worried about your teeth possibly scraping, knowing he's taught you well enough that they're covered with your tongue and lips. even though you've been his captive for almost a month now, that doesn't change the fact that you'd never want to hurt rafe.
rafe lets out a string of harsh curses and the feel of his cock swelling in your mouth is all you need to know he's about to cum.
you move one hand that's on his muscular thigh to his balls, fondling them the best you can. it's the final touch rafe needs as he shouts out your name, hips pressing forward as he cums deep down your throat, watching the way his cock twitches and pours out semen under the thin layer of your skin.
“shit!” rafe curses loudly, hand moving to squeeze your throat, giving the extra tightness he needs for one last pump of cum inside of you before he pulls out.
you quickly turn over, flipping onto your stomach as you cough and sputter, deep wheezing breaths filling your lungs fully.
“oh, my good girl.” rafe helps you to lay back properly on the bed, giving you soft kisses along your cheeks and forehead as you recover.
his soft side is always a surprise, in so much contrast to how he normally treats you. he just wants you to stay good and pliable all the time, tired of when you act out or defy him.
“now time for that snack, yeah?” rafe says. 
he leaves the room, and you listen for that telltale sound of him locking the door behind him, but it doesn't come. you blink harshly, trying to force yourself to stand, to let your legs carry you out, but your stomach growls, knowing rafe will keep you well fed, and your pussy clenches, knowing rafe will fill it later, and you stay laid on the bed.
rafe enters moments later with a pleased look on his face. it may have been only minutes, and you may have been strung out, but he was just able to leave the door unlocked and came back to find you in the exact same position he left you in.
“crackers?” rafe offers you, helping you sit up and schooch back to lean against the headboard.
you take the bowl as rafe checks your water bottle is still full before standing up and locking the door, slipping the key into his pocket. he made sure to get double side locks, reinforced to keep you secured.
“im going to take a quick shower.” rafe says, leaving you to finish the snack on your own. you eat quickly, munching down the food to satisfy your drug addled mind.
you set the bowl down on your nightstand when you're done, eyes turning to the pajamas laid against the bench at the end of the bed, knowing rafe intends to dress you himself when he gets back. 
he's never able to control himself when he sees you naked. it's why every time after he's finished putting your clothes on that he has to rip them right back off. why every time he helps you bathe or shower that he ends up fucking you all wet. every time your shirt slips up your stomach or shorts ride too short and you're unable to fix it in your state, that rafe ends up getting you naked and worshiping your body.
“y/n.” rafe calls your attention up to him as your eyes refocus, having drifted off at some point. rafe is standing in just a towel, wrapped snuggly across his waist.
“do you need another hit?” he questions, not wanting you to fall asleep, he likes when you're awake while he takes you, so he can see the fire behind your eyes. “or a joint?”
“yeah.” you nod. “a joint.”
you hope rafe will smoke it with you. you like when rafe gets high. his feral movements slow down, his thrusts become softer and kisses tamer.
rafe heads over to the locked cabinet, putting in the code before opening it up and grabbing a few things out. you watch with half horror and half fascination as rafes long slender fingers roll the joint before lighting it, the lighter briefly brightening the room in orange haze.
“here ya go.” rafe sticks one end between your lips, allowing you to inhale deeply. rafe is pleased, already such a quick turn around from having to force you less than an hour ago to snort.
“you're getting so obedient.” rafe says softly, wishing he could get you to be obedient at all times and not just when you're fucked up. then maybe he can let you out of the room, slowly expand your privileges.
“mhm.” you hum, closing your eyes as you lean forward and inhale deeply again. you turn your head to the side to blow out the smoke, pushing it away from rafe.
you keep huffing and exhaling until the room smells like weed. you're not sure what the combination of drugs in your system does to you, but it has you looking at rafe with softer eyes, forgetting that he's the one forcing you to snort various powders and pop pulls, just thinking about him as the one who brings you snacks and cuddles you.
“pajamas?” you ask rafe once the joint it almost gone, watching him head to the bathroom to damp it out in some water and toss it.
“yeah.” rafe grabs your pajamas, a very immodest and revealing matching set of shorts and a tank top.
you stay slack against the bed, letting rafe pull off your t-shirt and undo your bra, his eyes staying on your tits as he tosses your clothes into the hamper. he doesn't touch them yet, despite his fingers twitching with need.
he moves onto your pants yet, tugging your yoga pants off and discarding them so you're in just your underwear.
“my favorite pair.” rafe says softly, though really any of your thongs are his favorite. his hands push your thighs open and you don't resist when his finger presses against your core and swipes up, putting pressure right on your clit.
you let out a moan as your back arches, but as quickly as rafe began touching you, he stops, and then pulls your shorts up your legs.
“thank you.” you reach your arms up, body calling out to rafe, craving him. rafe scoops you up into his lap, snuggling his nose into your neck.
“just relax.” rafe says, hands petting over your body until one inevitably slips between your thighs. he keeps his hands away from your core, teasing you with soft strokes.
rafes thumb and pointer finger suddenly pinch together with your flesh caught inside, but you barely even react to the sudden burst of pain. it's how rafe can tell you're truly ready for him.
“gonna lay you back.” rafe narrates as he places you on the bed, standing over you while you stare up at him, waiting for what the first strike is going to be. what area of your body he's going to pounce on first.
it starts with tearing your shorts down, bearing your pussy to him yet again. a pleased smile stretches across rafes features when he sees you're already wet from his teasing.
“wanna taste you.” rafe lays himself down on the bed, still only covered in the towel, hair slightly damp that you'd want to run your fingers through if your arms weren't noodles.
rafe doesn't often eat you out. in a way, it feels like a reward as he leans in, mouth covering your clit. his tongue pokes out, tapping at your clit as you let out soft moans and mewls.
“so yummy.” rafe praises you, mouth sinking to your entrance, slurping at the juices built up there.
his little fuck kitten, his baby, his captive and his girlfriend, even if you did attempt to break up with him. he's never let you truly lose the title.
rafe doesn't stay laid on his stomach for long. while his incessantly licking through your folds feels good, it doesn't suit him anymore once your taste has already coated his tongue.
rafes kisses lead up your stomach, mouth pressing against your skin as his head pushes up your shirt until it's barely covering your chest. his hands push the loose tank top the rest of the way off your body.
rafe presses kisses to each of your nipples, watching them bloom and perk up right before his eyes. his smile grows as he widens his teeth and sinks them around your nipple, biting down before giving a hearty tug that has you crying out the most you can, a strangled mix between a moan and a cry.
rafe repeats the same bite and pull on the other side, then back and forth, then back and forth again, until your high dulls it out and you don't even react.
once your eyebrow doesn't even twitch in pain, rafe moves on, his hands pushing your thighs apart again as he kneels between them on the bed, tugging at the white towel as it falls away to reveal his hard cock.
“you're being so docile for me today.” rafe says like it's supposed to be praise, even though a sick feeling twists in your gut. “how about i try out your other hole today?”
your eyes widen and you try to sit up slightly. “i-”
“yeah, i think i will try it.” rafe says with a grin, reaching over to the bedside table and scrounging through the drawer until he finds the little bottle he's looking for.
rafe considers strapping you down to help you keep your legs open, but he likes the idea of you being unrestricted by bonds and rather too blissed out to move.
“turn over for me.” rafe commands, helping you flip onto your stomach. rafe grips your ass in his hands, massaging your plump flesh and watching it jiggle before he tugs your hips upward into the air.
he manages to get you to balance somewhat as he spreads your cheeks apart, looking at your little puckered hole just waiting to squeeze around his cock.
rafe takes the bottle of poppers and unwinds them, pressing them towards your face as he waits for you to inhale. you don't try to resist this time, knowing the drugs will only relax your muscles more and make things more pleasurable, even if the smell is so strong it causes your entire body to jolt.
rafe grunts out some praise that you barely hear or take in as he screws the bottle closed and lines up his cock with your entrance.
he's able to push in easily, knowing the drugs will only keep you open and relaxed for a few minutes. 
rafe presses his hips right into your bum, lodging himself as deep as he can inside of you. “knew your ass would feel great.” he says, tapping your bum in spankings that you barely register.
rafe begins to move, his strokes deep and slow as he fucks you. his hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you held up just how he wants you.
you let out a strangled noise as the muscle relaxers wear off, your previous untouched hole clenching tightly around rafes length.
rafe curses harshly as you tighten around him, almost squeezing so intensely that its not pleasurable, but he's determined to work you through it.
he slowly increases the rhythm of his hips fucking into you, building up until he's fucking you with the furosity that he does your pussy on a nightly basis.
“jesus.” rafe grunts out, listening to your tiny whimpers and moans that you can't help releasing. “do you like this baby?”
you try to open your mouth to answer, but all you do is allow drool to slide down your chin, no words actually coming out. you're not sure if you like it, or it the drugs are just dulling out the pain and leaving the pleasure.
“where do you want me to cum though bunny?” rafe asks, bending down to speak into your ear. “surely you want me to fuck your pussy, yeah? get you pregnant?”
there's no way a pregnancy would ever last with the amount of drugs consistently flooding your system, but rafe likes to think about it. another way to get you to stay, another reason to never leave him.
you manage to shake your head in some way that forms a nod. rafe quickly switches holes like it's nothing, pushing into your pussy and keeping the exact same pace in your cunt that he did your ass.
“too much?” rafe asks, hoping you say yes, his smile stretching when you give the vague halfish nod again. you're so beyond overwhelmed that you still haven't shut your mouth, a wet spot of drool forming on the bedsheets to add to the wet spot from your dripping pussy.
rafe takes the bottle of poppers again, holding it to your nose. you don't even realize that he's done it until the smell hits your nose and your body jolts.
rafe chuckles at your reaction, forcing two fingers into your asshole, pumping them in contrast to the timing of his hips pushing forward, causing even more stimulation to flood your senses.
“i bet if i just tap your clit you'd cum, huh?” rafe questions.
it's a juggle to overstimulate you from every angle, but rafe manages to reach down with his other hand, but instead of tapping it like he said, he pinches your bud, holding it tightly between your fingertips as you let out a squeal.
“knew it.” rafe chuckles as he feels you pussy pulsate around him, squeezing and fluttering as your orgasm suddenly hits, juices flooding and soaking rafe and the bedsheets below you as your pussy gushes.
rafe regrets pulling out of your other hole as it clenches down on his fingers, but he's satisfied with shoving deep inside of you and pumping you full of his cum.
rafe let's out a moan that sounds almost like your name, but the sudden force of your orgasm has caused your ears to stop working along with seemingly every other part of your body.
rafe pulls out and lets you slump onto your side. he gives you a quick check to make sure you're still breathing before heading back to the bathroom to clean himself off. 
he doesn't bother with you, knowing you'll sleep off your high and walk up after noon to clean yourself and restart the cycle all over again.
“can't wait to do that again tomorrow baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss your lips despite them still being slackened apart.
rafe pulls you into him as he lays under the covers, feeling your naked bodies touching, skin to skin.
“goodnight.” rafe whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
you try to stay awake. maybe you can get away when he goes to sleep, maybe, maybe, maybe, but your head spins and eyes droop closed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
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Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.
God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.
These things, he can not let go easily.
Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.
Tonight, it would appear to be no different.
It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.
The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.
Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.
Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.
The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.
But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.
“Stop screaming, it’s me.”
Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.
“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.
“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”
“You-! I was-! Why-!”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”
Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”
“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”
He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.
“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.
“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”
“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”
“….”
“Katsuki!”
“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”
“KATSUKI!”
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nereidprinc3ss · 30 days
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lava lamp
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in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression
fluff
warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse
a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800
The room is awash in hot pink. 
It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid. 
The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals. 
Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop. 
The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more. 
“Hi,” he says, quietly enough. 
You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you. 
“How’re you feeling, honey?”
A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you. 
“Tired.”
More quiet. 
“What kind of tired?”
But he knows what kind of tired. 
“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded. 
“I can handle it.”
If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid. 
“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”
Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always. 
“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”
You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right. 
“Yeah.”
Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below. 
“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”
You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.  
“Really?”
The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider. 
“Metaphorically speaking.”
He’s perfect. 
You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours. 
Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”
He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine. 
You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”
And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp. 
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d3arapril · 2 months
Text
ᡣ𐭩 about time | p.b
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part of the invisible string series but can be read as a standalone fic; get up to date here.
paige bueckers x reader word count: 3.9k warnings/tags: 18+ content ahead, one bed trope, friends to lurrverrs, swearing, paige the eater, confessions, paige is down BAD, fingering (r!receiving), tribbing requests welcome and reblogs & feedback appreciated! :*
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Paige was a lot of things to you.
A best friend, a teammate, a person to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on. She was probably also the love of your life.
You’d known for the past five years that it was more than friendship for you—how you’d look for her in every room, and how she’d always look for you. That invisible string between you two always seemed to pull you together.
Paige had texted you to ask if you were still planning on coming to camp, to which you swiftly replied with a yes. She mentioned that the two of you would be sharing a bed, a detail that didn't bother you in the slightest. The thought of it filled you with a sense of eager anticipation. Sharing a bed with Paige wasn't a new experience whatsoever, but lately, something had shifted between you.
Every time your eyes met, there was a lingering connection that felt stronger than ever before. Whenever you were around each other, it was as though you were both gradually becoming aware of each other's unspoken feelings bubbling up to the surface.
Now it’s 9 p.m. and you’re in Azzi’s spare room, bag slung over your shoulder as you stare at the single bed you and Paige are supposed to share. The room is small, the kind of room you'd treat more like a storage cupboard than an actual bedroom. The white walls are littered with blue tack stains and faint outlines of long-removed posters, likely from a younger Azzi. A singular desk sits against the wall to the right of you, matching wooden chair tucked neatly underneath it.
The single bed is question is pushed against the left wall, foot of the bed a couple of inches from the small window, cream curtains framing it nicely. The mattress is covered in crisp white sheets that you don't doubt Azzi washed and ironed before you both arrived. Always the good host.
“It’s...” Paige starts from beside you, glancing from you to the bed. “Cozy, I guess?”
“No kidding,” you scoff, pulling out the chair by the desk and dropping your bag onto it. You bend down to undo your laces, “We’re not going to sleep, and we’ll suffer the consequences at Azzi’s camp tomorrow.”
Paige laughs, her smooth legs brushing past you as she sits on the edge of the bed, the white sheets soft against her thighs. “If it bothers you that much, I can sleep on the c—”
“No!” The word bursts out of you, more keen than you intended. Focused on kicking off your shoes, you miss the small, knowing smile tugging at Paige’s lips. She knows you’d never let her do that.
“It’ll be fine. We’ll make it work.”
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If making it work meant draping your entire left side over Paige while she was squished against the wall, then sure, it worked out fine. The warmth of her body against yours was almost too much to handle. She didn’t seem to mind, not that she ever would.
“Can I ask you something?” Paige’s voice cuts through the silence, the only light in the room coming from the small desk lamp on the desk across the room, orange light filling the room just enough for you to make out the features on Paige's face you've grown so fond of.
“You just did,” you reply, fingers tapping a random rhythm on your stomach to distract yourself from the feeling of her heartbeat against your bicep.
You can almost hear her roll her eyes as she ungracefully manoeuvres onto her side, propping her head up with an arm. “You’re not funny.”
Part of you wants to turn and tell her that your love for her is all-consuming, but the other part of you knows you need to sleep. You opt for the latter.
“What are we doing?” Paige opts for the former.
You frown, still lying flat on your back, breath hitching in your throat. “What?”
“C’mon, you know what.”
You turn to face her, mirroring her position. She casts a glance at your form covered by the white duvet. Both her gaze and proximity put you on edge, your knees knocking together underneath the covers as you get comfortable on your left side.
You’ve been this close before, several times, but it’s never felt like this—like there’s an electric current flowing between you, ready to spark if you get any closer.
She studies your lips, then meets your eyes. “We’ve known each other for how long?”
“Seven years, maybe?” Your voice is barely a whisper.
“And you think I can’t read you like a book?” She’s smiling now, that stupid look on her face you’ve seen one too many times.
You roll your eyes, avoiding her gaze and looking down at the now wrinkled sheets. Warm fingertips press against your chin, tipping your head up so Paige can look you in the eyes.
“When can we stop faking this?” Your eyes widen at her question, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “How much longer do we have to pretend we don’t feel”—she gestures between you, hand slicing through the small space separating you—“this?”
A smile cracks across your face, a breathy laugh escaping you. Her fingertips slide across your face until your cheek rests in her palm. Her thumb brushes gently across the apple of your cheek, bringing heat to your face despite the cool air in the room.
“Paige,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed as you lean into her touch. “We shouldn’t do this now.”
“You don’t want to talk about it?” Her head tilts as if to say, Really?
“Yeah, but ideally not in Azzi’s spare room?” You laugh, trying to lighten the mood. She pulls her hand away and flops onto her back, but before you can react, she tugs you with her and you land across her chest with your chin resting awkwardly in her armpit. The swell of her breasts against yours is all you can feel and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your nerves.
“I think you do want to talk about it,” she says, looking down at you now, chin tucked into her neck as she stares at your unmoving form on her chest. “You’re just chicken.”
That gets a reaction from you. You turn your head to her, scowling. “You know I’m not chicken.”
“Prove it.”
Before you can overthink it, your body reacts instinctively. You shift on top of her until you’re straddling her hips, your face inches from hers, noses practically touching. The heat radiating from her skin envelops you, your breaths mingling.
“Oh, hello,” she teases, nose scrunching.
“Just kiss me,” you breathe out, tone desperate. “Please.”
Paige pauses, heart skipping in her chest. "I've been tryna hear you say that for so long."
You swallow hard, hand that was holding you up lifting from beside her head to push back the blonde strands across her face. It all feels too intimate too quickly, yet you crave more.
"Wish I said it sooner," your voice trembles as you speak.
Without wasting any more time, Paige leans up and presses her lips against yours. She kisses you with a purpose, head tilting and bottom lip dragging against yours like she'd been practicing for this exact moment. When her tongue prods at your bottom lip, you welcome it, deepening the kiss. You bring a hand up to rest on the crown of her head, fingernails lightly scratching at her scalp.
Paige’s hands find home on your hips, squeezing gently. When you experimentally pull at her roots, she whines in the back of her throat, fingers pressing deeper into your skin.
You both stay like that for a while, lost in each other as you messily kiss, tongues and teeth clashing. Paige pulls back first to catch her breath, a delicate string of saliva connecting you. She darts her tongue out to lick it away, panting into the cool air of the room. The sight sends a shiver down your spine.
“Knew you’d be good,” she says to herself more than anything, cheeks flushed. “Will you let me do something?”
You’re struggling to catch your breath, chest heaving as your hands flatten across her own to push yourself upright.
“Whatever you want, please.”
Her hands slide down your hips to the waistband of your pajama shorts, toying with the blue frills. “Cute,” she teases as she tugs them down, impatient as always.
You place a hand on the cool wall to help keep your balance as you ungracefully shuffle your shorts down and off your legs until they’re hanging around your right ankle. You hurriedly bring a trembling hand to the waistband of your underwear, eager to finally see her put that tongue she can’t ever seem to keep in her mouth to use, but she stops you with a click of it.
“You’re shaking,” she observes, eyebrow raised as she studies your digits. “Relax, it’s me.”
A frown graces your features as you realize how much you’re shaking. You nod, forcing yourself to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You want this?” She’s looking up at you again, blonde locks splayed around her head on the white sheets. She looks like an angel, fitting because you think she might actually send you to heaven in the next ten minutes.
“Please,” the word comes out as a pathetic whimper, and it’s all Paige needs to hear before she shuffles up the bed and gestures for you to lay down. You do exactly as she asks, head half-hanging off the end of the bed, watching as she positions herself flat on her stomach between your legs.
“Been wanting this for so long, you know that, right?” Her breath is hot against your clit, making your thighs jump. “Can’t tell you how bad I need this.”
A slim finger sneaks its way between your legs, the tip tracing the outline of your pussy clinging to the damp cotton.
“Know you need it too, huh?”
Without giving you a second to respond, Paige dips her head down and places a chaste kiss on your clit through the sodden fabric of your underwear. You swear you hear her moan in the back of her throat as her eyes flutter closed, long lashes flickering across the tops of her cheeks.
She does it two, three more times until you’re whimpering, hand reaching down to pet at her head until she gets the idea and holds your panties to the side. She wastes no time, licking your clit into her mouth and sucking with fervor. It knocks you for a loop, legs drawing up to curl in on yourself, but Paige is quick to catch them, keeping you flat to the bed.
She switches between long, drawn-out sucks and skittering her tongue across your clit, the combination making you see stars, eyes fighting to stay open and arms threatening to give way as you hold yourself up to watch her take you apart.
“Please,” you whimper, not sure what you’re asking for, but Paige seems to know exactly what it is.
“Want my fingers?” Her voice is muffled against your pussy, hooded eyes glancing up at you as she takes you all in—nipples hard underneath your tank, a sweating, panting mess. All because of her. “You need 'em, yeah?”
You practically sob out a yes, and Paige is back to it, the hand not holding your panties to the side coming up to rub through the messiness of your pussy.
“Damn, pussy really needed this, huh?” She teases, and normally you'd hit back at her with a smart ass response but the feeling of her tongue peeking out to lick at your clit again keeps you quiet, head tipping to rest on your shoulder as you get lost in the feeling. You feel yourself gush at that, and she does too, the sensation on her fingers making her blush.
She strokes her fingers through your folds before sliding two straight in to the last knuckle, giving you no time to adjust before curving them inward once, twice until you’ve got both hands fisted in her hair and your head falls down to your chest, unable to keep yourself up. The heel of her hand presses into your clit as she finally starts fucking you properly, alternating between curving her fingers and full on fucking them in and out of you, wet noises from your pussy growing louder and sloppier with each thrust of her fingers.
Your panties are still on, pushed to the side and completely soaked from the mess of her and you. They're no issue for Paige though as she leans back in to suck at your clit again, the pleasure building up inside of you until you're gasping, arms giving way as your head tips back over the end of the bed, hips grinding up into her face.
"Fuck," your voice is hoarse, pitch higher than normal as the girl below you devours you. "Paige, fuck- please, you're gonna make me cum."
Paige nods against you, fingers somehow speeding up. She doesn't let up, head shaking against you as she laps against your clit and it all happens at once - you're cumming before you can even warn her.
You're still somewhat aware of your surroundings so you slap a hand over your mouth as you moan and whine into it, unintelligible words and cries of her name. Uncontrollable tears fall from your eyes dripping into your hair from the angle you're currently in because you don't think you've cum that hard- ever.
Paige rides it out with you, slowing her fingers and tongue until you're a writhing mess. She pulls away and sucks your juices off her fingers, and although you don't see it, the sound alone is enough to make you whimper.
"Fuck me," she's panting as she crawls up your body, wet fingers cupping behind your neck to bring you back to reality. She gets a good look at you; eyes red and teary, lips swollen. "That good?"
"That good." you echo, eyes heavy as you try to ignore the dizziness behind your eyes.
She licks into your mouth and you moan into her, tongue tasting of you. "Pussy's good," she murmurs against your lips, eyes heavy as she pulls back from you slightly. "You hiding that from me for this long?"
"It was always yours, Paige."
That's enough to make her moan; it's deep, vibrating in her chest. She moves down to grab your hips and tugs you down the bed, hands slipping under your tank.
"Wanna see."
It's not a question.
You don't think twice as you lift up and tug the thin cotton over your head, tossing it to the floor. When you're busy fighting the fabric off your body, you feel her slide your soaked panties down your legs and chuck them haphazardly onto the floor. You make mental note to ensure you watch her do it next time.
Like it's a reflex, her hands glide up your stomach and squeeze at your tits, rolling your nipples between her fingertips. The sensation makes you whine, hands gripping at her black t-shirt. The feeling of the cotton against your palms makes you frown, "Why are you still wearing this?"
"Take it off me then," she challenges and you pull the material up her torso and she does the rest, shirt joining your tank in a pile on the floor. She's clad in a grey sports bra, Nike boxers riding up her waist.
"These too, P." You tug at the elastic, snapping it back against her skin.
"You tryna get me naked?" she teases, sitting up and tucking her thumbs into the material and pulling them down and off her legs. You'd be surprised if you didn't have actual hearts for pupils from the way you're looking at her. She's a sight for sore eyes, v line on her stomach prominent, leading down to her smooth pussy. Her legs are strong, toned muscles peeking out beneath her skin from where they hold her up above you.
Paige amusedly watches you watching her, hands on her hips as she waits for you to finish whatever inner monologue you had going on.
"You good?" she's laughing, and you can't help but laugh too.
"I just-" you start, covering your eyes in attempt to contain yourself. "You're just so fucking hot."
Paige rolls her eyes and pushes you flat to the bed, settling between your thighs.
"You're so corny."
You shrug, unashamed. Paige smiles down at you, moving so she's slotted between your legs and one of them is hiked up against her, your calf resting against her shoulder.
"This okay?" she asks, hand stroking against your thigh.
"Yeah," you breathe out, eyes trained on her.
She moves forward and the feeling of your pussy against hers makes her suck in a sharp breath between her teeth, eyebrows furrowing as she lowers down and feels how wet you still are against her own pussy.
"Shit," she mumbles, head tilting down so she can watch where your pussies meet, hips shifting. "Feels so good."
She starts a slow roll of her hips, clit bumping against yours. Her mouth hangs open, heavily breathing as she stares down at where you both meet. You're still sensitive from earlier; choked, high pitched whines leave your throat as your toes curl, legs threatening to shut as your thighs shake.
"So wet."
She's dripping too, the both of you sliding against each other, noises echoing throughout the room as she picks up speed.
Paige is a mess above you, blonde hair stuck to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut as she focuses on the feeling. "I think I'm gonna cum," she moans, blunt nails digging into your leg.
"Please," you encourage her, finger nails scratching down her abs as she rocks into you faster.
It's almost embarrassing how quickly she falls apart, her body shaking and jerking as she cums, release leaking out onto your pussy as she ruts into you. "Fuck," she's moaning into your calf, nose squished and forehead pressed against it as she rides it out. "I love you, oh-fuck."
You're not sure if she realises what she's said but it's enough to make you cum shortly after her, clit grinding against yours just enough to take you there again, softly moaning her name as you fight to keep your eyes open to watch her get lost in her own pleasure.
It takes a couple of minutes for her to gather herself, hips slowing and chest heaving as she opens an eye to peek down at you. "Did you-"
"I did," you laugh breathily, shaking hands stroking up and down her tense stomach. "D'you mean it?"
"What?"
"That you love me."
"Oh," she purses her lips as she gently moves your leg from her shoulder, tiredly flopping down onto your chest. "Yeah."
She speaks into your chest, eyes threatening to close. "Think we both knew that though."
You chuckle, shoulders shaking as you stroke a hand across the backs of her shoulders, other hand stroking at the now wild mess of hair on her head. "I think I might love you too, for the record."
You feel her smile against your chest, lifting up slightly to press a kiss to the swell of your breast.
"Think I knew that too."
You both lay in silence for a while, room filled with the sounds of both of your breathing and the odd noise from outside. The house is quiet, thankfully, and you pray you were both quiet enough to not disturb anybody inside. You cast a glance up to the small clock above the bedroom door, eyes widening when you notice the time.
"Paige," you nudge her shoulder and she groans in response, half asleep. "Fucking wake up."
She lifts her head off your chest, one eye open lazily. "What?"
"We've got to be up for camp in four hours."
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You're both groggy in the morning, dark circles and slumped shoulders sat at the dining table. Azzi, on the other hand, is a striking opposite to the both of you, well rested and full of energy.
"Sleep well?" she teases, back facing the both of you as she dispenses ice from the freezer.
"Bed's too small," Paige huffs, head slumped against your shoulder. "Couldn't get comfortable."
"Yeah I bet," Azzi spins around and leans her back against the counter, taking a sip from her water. "Did my childhood bedroom bring you guys together then, or...?"
You almost spray your own mouthful of water across the table, Paige laughing as she pats your back whilst you cough and splutter.
"Yeah-" you heave, rubbing at your chest. "You could say that."
Paige shrugs, sliding out of the chair and walking around to stand behind you, chin pressed to the crown of your head. It's something she's done a thousand times, but now it feels more intimate, especially as she places a kiss to the top of your head. A small smile finds its way onto your lips.
"Damn," Azzi raises her eyebrows, bottom lip pulling between her teeth to hide her growing smile. "About time is all I can say."
She slides past the two of you and goes to leave the room, turning back just before she heads towards the stairs. "Be ready in fifteen, guys!"
You crane your neck up to look at Paige who, if you hadn't known better, you would assume she hadn't had a wink of sleep from the state of her.
"What?" she catches you smirking at her, hand coming up to pinch at the apple of your cheek.
"You look like shit." you deadpan, laughing as her hands come up beside her, feigning innocence.
"Not my fault," she leans into your ear, whispering. "Pussy so good it kept me up all night."
You playfully shove her away from you, heat rising up to your cheeks as you watch her bite her tongue between her teeth, teasing.
"None of that today," you laugh, rising from your seat. Your hands run down your shorts, flattening out the creases. "We have to be good role models, plus, we can't let Azzi down."
"Oh I know," she responds, arm looping over your shoulder. "Can't let 'em know my girlfriend has me like this, huh?"
The G word startles you and you turn to look at her. "Girlfriend?"
"Yeah," she shrugs, hand on your shoulder squeezing slightly. "Think it suits you, no?"
You pause, the word reverberating in your mind. "Girlfriend," you repeat, testing it out like you'd just learnt the word. "I like the sound of that."
Paige's eyes soften, turning so she's facing you and she drops her hands to your waist, finding their way underneath your shirt. Her thumbs rubs gentle circles against the bare skin there.
"I meant it, by the way." she's sincere, voice lowering slightly to get away from any possible prying ears around the house. "I do love you. Feels crazy to say but," she pauses, "Yeah. I do."
You feel your heat swell. "I think I love you too, funnily enough."
That gets you a pinch on your side, Paige scoffing at your response. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling back from you and heading towards the stairs.
"Come on," she calls, skip in her step. "We've got some kids to teach."
You follow after her, tiredness quickly forgotten.
Azzi was right. It was about time.
789 notes · View notes
twilghtkoo · 5 months
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pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)
genres/aus. fluff, established relationship
warnings. jk loves calling reader ‘sweetheart’, mentions of reader’s anxiety, and a short kiss(makeout?) scene, not proofread!
notes. i actually loved writing the first drabble of jungkook x bookworm!reader and i can’t sleep and currently rewatching the twilight movies as im writing this so here’s this :D likes and reblogs are appreciated <33
[ masterlist ]
you can’t remember when you had told yourself, one more chapter. but apparently it’s been long considering it’s almost three in the morning. the ice in your coffee has melted into a smaller ice cube, so you take a big sip. not wanting the ice to water down the sweet, creamy taste.
coffee late at this hour doesn’t affect you no more. you drink it now for the taste more than anything. you can thank school and those tiring days of studying hunched over a table. the amount of energy drinks and coffee you’ve consumed should be concerning but you gotta do what you gotta do.
if jungkook was here, he would’ve had a fit and told you drinking caffeine at this hour is bad for you.
but he’s not. he’s at a late night practice and he told you he’s not sure he’ll be able to come over.
you have your two pillows propped up against your headboard, your book nuzzled against your thighs and your stuffed animal under your arm. your bedside lamp creating the perfect lighting for you to see and the perfect atmosphere.
you’re deep into your book, too engrossed in the plot between the love interests that you don’t hear keys jingle and a door softly shut and echo in the quiet night of your home.
you still don’t hear the soft feet padding towards your bedroom until your door opens, revealing your boyfriend.
he looks as if he’s freshly showered, the ends of his hair are damp and stringy, and his face is bare and cheeks a soft red. that’s how it looks after he finishes his skincare routine, he must have rushed over here.
he grins when he sees you’re awake and so do you when you see him, placing your bookmark inside and setting it down next to you. you sit up on your knees, eager to touch him and kiss him, realizing again how much you miss him despite seeing him this morning. that was almost 24 hours ago.
but his eyes maneuver to the coffee that’s condensing, making a puddle on the coaster.
he squints his eyes at you. and it feels almost as if you’ve been caught as a child. you lower yourself to sit on the back of your shins.
“hi kookie,” you smile, acting innocent.
“don’t kookie me. how many times have i told you to stop drinking coffee so late, it’s almost three. you’re not gonna sleep.” he tells you again, sternly. reaching behind his neck to take off his crewneck in one swift movement, the shirt underneath scrunches up with the sweater, revealing his abs. and you can’t help but ogle while you’re being scolded. you can’t blame me.
you frown, “i know, i know. but you know reading and drinking coffee goes hand in hand. i wanted to enjoy reading my book and–“
he moves towards you, placing his knee on the foot of the bed, crawling shortly til he reaches you. his nose brushing yours and his eyes half-lidded. the soft scent of his shampoo and brief smell of mint swallows you, bringing that familiar comfort.
“sweetheart, i know. but caffeine also doesn’t mesh well with your anxiety. you know that. it’s fine to drink it once or twice during the day but late at night is a no.” he softly warns, tilting his chin upwards to catch your lips with his.
it was meant to be a quick kiss but your fingers reach to hold his face, tugging him closer to you until you’re lying on your back and he’s on top. his hands placed on both sides of your head, caging you in, straddling you. both your hands trail its way down from his neck down to his chest, stomach and then they find its home at his waist. pulling him down til his front weighs pressure on your sensitive spot.
both of you moan into the kiss, and your sweet sound sends an alert to jungkook. before you both get carried away, he pulls back, kissing you once more before pulling away.
he hums, deliciously. “though coffee does taste best coming from you.” he gazed at you, eyes shining and lips slightly red. no doubt, you look the same.
“i thought you weren’t coming tonight.” you say questioningly, watching him move your book next to your coffee so he can lie underneath the covers with you. once he’s settled in, he has an arm resting behind his head and the other resting around you.
“i wasn’t, but i really wanted to sleep with you and i wanna make you breakfast in the morning. i saw a recipe i wanna try.” you hum in response, trying to nuzzle your head deeper into his warmth but his t-shirt is blocking what you want.
you tug at his shirt without saying anything and he understands. he sits up quickly to shrug off the fabric, tossing it across the room to land beside his bag before lying back down, holding you.
he lets out a dramatic sigh, “ahh, this is my favorite thing in the world.” turning on his side, you following so you’re both facing each other, legs tangled together.
“i missed you too.” you whispered. he didn’t say it but he didn’t have to, his answer was enough.
your head nestled underneath his chin and against his chest, you kiss the skin.
“what chapter are you on?” he asks, his voice deeper than it was, slumber almost taking over him.
“twenty-eight, i’m almost done with it.”
he hums. “did you start the book today?”
he feels you nod. “my little bookworm.” he coos, scratching your back softly with the tips of his fingers. “go to sleep, sweetheart.”
and you do.
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maiiuelle · 5 months
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˚❀˚
you and rafe spend the majority of your time together at tannyhill. it just makes more sense, his house is bigger, usually vacant, and void of your father, who has plenty of choice words about your new rich boyfriend. but today is different, your dad is out investigating a break in on the opposite side of the island, and your mom disappeared off to the golf club hours ago. it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak rafe in.
“come on, come on! you’re gonna love my room.” you hug rafe’s arm, tugging on him excitedly. a smirk pulls at his cheeks, finding your eagerness adorable.
“alright, m’coming — gonna pull my damn arm off.”
you push open the door, revealing your cozy bedroom. there’s a big window overlooking the street with a vintage bench shoved underneath for your nighttime reading. a soft white rug sprawls over almost the entire hardwood floor, and your vanity sits next to the door, expensive makeup products and gold jewelry cluttering the surface. on the opposite wall is your overflowing bookshelf, your nightstand with your record player, a warm floor lamp, and your giant bed that sits in the center. it has pink floral sheets, white fluffy pillows, and a wide-eyed siamese cat sitting in the middle.
“oh! this is simon.” you introduce your kitty proudly. you didn’t expect him to be out, usually hidden away somewhere the second someone new steps foot in the house. in hopes he’ll stick around, you sit down gently on the bed beside him to run your fingers through his white fur. "he's a little shy."
“shy? fur-ball looks like he wants to eat me.” rafe raises an eyebrow at him, pacing closer. the little kitty’s eyes widen and his ears go back, rafe’s looming height too intimidating too fast — he’s quick to abandon the bed, hiding underneath as usual.
“rafe!” you whine, all hopes of friendship between the two of them lost immediately. you cross your arms dramatically, pouting. “gotta be slow — gentle. he’s sensitive!”
“yeah, yeah. i’m sure he’s just fine, babe.” he brushes it off in the moment but seems to take your words into consideration. later, when he’s lying half asleep in your pink sheets with you curled up beside him, the siamese cat hops back up on the bed, landing right in rafe’s lap. it surprises both of them, the cat probably forgetting he was even there. you don’t notice a thing, already out cold, lulled to sleep in rafe’s arms.
the two just stare at each other for a second, neither really sure what to do. in a moment of bravery, simon sniffs around the comforter and even rafe’s ringed hand, still unsure but suddenly not as skittish. he finds a dip in the blankets, and eyes rafe suspiciously before finally curling up between the two of you. “hm, m’not so bad now, huh?” rafe’s sleepy, gravely voice is soft, and he slowly brings his free hand to brush through the purring kitty’s soft fur.
˚❀˚
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1K notes · View notes
val-cansalute · 3 months
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☆ 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊 ☆
sub!ellie x dom!reader
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𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞, 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚝-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚘, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝚊/𝚗: 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝-𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 kind of shitty really bad 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 that i absolutely despise but spent too long on to keep in the drafts 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝e𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 ♥︎
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It's been dark for a few hours now, light pooling into your room from the flicker of a candle and the red lava lamp you stole from Dina's room.
She's gone again and the apartment feels hollow. Still, you're sat at your desk working as the regimented tick of your clock beats on in the background.
A shuffle and the click of a door capture your attention.
Ellie's here. As per usual.
You let out a strained puff of air and swivel your chair around to face the source of the thud that’s now aggressively rubbing her eyes and sitting at the foot of your bed.
“Ellie.”
“Hm?” she croaks out.
“You bored?”
“Hmmm…” She finally looks up from her palms with slightly blood-shot eyes and freckled skin splotched pink to meet your inquisitive gaze.
“Dina said she was gonna watch Back to the Future with me and then she ditched me for Jesse… So, now I’m left with you, the roommate.”
“The roommate, huh? I see how it is. What if I beat your ass? Then what?”
Your attempt to lighten the tired atmosphere lacks much spark, but Ellie’s bored enough to bite. Her green eyes are illuminated by the dim glow of the lava lamp as she waves you off dismissively and, for a split second, they’re flecked with the purest gold you’ve ever seen.
You play it totally cool, with your arm strung over the backrest of your chair nonchalantly, as though you didn’t just witness a scene that will be burnt onto your retinas and play late at night when you’re trying to sleep.
“Pfft, like you could fight anyone.”   
You scoff indignantly, mock offended, and stand up from your seat, leaving it spinning behind you.
“Uhhh, at least I got meat on my bones.”         
“Yeah! And absolutely none of it is muscle.”
“You askin’ me to unleash the beast, E-bone?”
God, you become the biggest dork around her… It's like you both morph into your thirteen year old selves, sitting on Ellie's disheveled bedroom floor after school and bickering about anything and everything until Joel yells up about dinner being done.
Times were simpler. Then, you got older and the buzz you felt each time your hands brushed, which was so easy to downplay, gradually became gaping - virtually impossible to ignore five years down the line. Once the door was open, there was no looking back.
Didn't help that Ellie only got hotter and hotter.
The thought of losing her over something like this makes your stomach writhe inside you though, so you keep the fantasizing to a minimum. Kind of.
The apples of her cheeks puff out rosy in an unrestrained grin, as she announces,
“Bring it, dude. I’d like to see you try,”
“I’m gonna rip your non-existent balls off,”
“Oh, I am just shaking with fear!”
“Fuck off, you little greaseball,”
“Pfft, please, that’s just my aesthetic appeal. You’re gonna have to try harder than that to insult me, bud.”
Your mind flurries with a million responses but the beckoning of your open laptop, begging for your attention before the fast approaching deadline, cuts through the buzz with ease.
Unfortunately, you can’t just ignore it this time. You’ve got less than twenty four hours to complete the soul-draining assignment, and you've spent the last few hours sighing periodically as you looked over the mediocre jargon you’d written so far instead of adding anything.
Great.
But it’s so tempting to forget about the essay completely and let go: focus all your attention onto doing dumb shit with Ellie like you usually do.
“Okay, I do not have time for this, I’ve got a whole ass essay due.”
Ellie sits up with an exaggerated groan, tugging you in by the arm.
“You always have something due!”
“Not always… And, yeah, Ellie! That’s college.”
“Dude. You’re either studying or working all the time and you barely leave this room.”
“Hey, I happen to think it’s pretty cozy in here.”
Ellie rolls her eyes before taking in the contents of the room, scanning the papers and lone items of stationery cluttering, no, invading your cramped desk space.
“Yeahhh… real ‘cozy’ in here. Do you ever clean?”
“Oh, big talk from someone who lives in a literal pig sty! I'm working so this doesn't count. Plus, it’s paper mess, not actual junk.”                 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least your bed’s comfortable…"
She turns her head to face you, watching your expression become slightly conflicted.
“Come on, dude, take a break from working for five minutes! Just five!”
You look back at her for a moment, at those eyes you desperately want to please even in the pettiest of situations, and sigh before sitting beside her.
“For the record, it won’t be ‘just five’, and you’re a bad influence on me.”
Ellie chuckles as the bed dips nearby with a soft creak.
“How am I a bad influence? I’m simply encouraging you to relax with me.”
The weird thing about your relationship is that, having been friends for so long, the bickering is intrinsically woven through every conversation you have, and it often leads to the kinds of petty arguments you're having now: the kind that you don't even remember the cause of.
“Uh, yeah?”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Suuuuuure-”
“Shut up, Ellie.”
“No.”
“You know what? Get out of my room.”
“Fine. Asshole.”
The kind of dumbass arguments that Joel would have to come in and alleviate without knowing the cause of either, because it was always something incredibly stupid anyway.
Joel's still back in Jackson though, while the two of you are miles away, and sulking's kinda pointless when there's no one around to see, so Ellie gets back up from her sprawled out position on the living room couch out of boredom and asks if she can come back in.
Same solution you used back when you were 12: you smirk deviously to yourself as you recall the memories before muttering,
“You can come in but you have to sit on the floor.”
Ellie scoffs, recognition evident in the unimpressed raise of her eyebrows. This pissed her off beyond measure back when you were kids, but now it weirdly brings on a sense of nostalgia, so she lets it slide, coming in and suppressing the small smile playing on her lips.
“Fine… Jackass.”
She lowers herself to the scratchy rug beneath your bed and leans against the wooden frame. She’s facing away like she used to too, always trying to avoid the embarrassment of having to look up at you. She still looks up over her shoulder at you with an exaggerated expression anyway though.
“Happy now?”
You look down at her and smirk.
“Very.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You're really enjoyin' this, aren't you?”
“Yep! You know, you’re still so easy to work up. Must be pretty uncomfortable down there, huh?”
“Shut up, asshole. I’m waaaaay more cozy down here. This carpet's amazing; you're missing out. I could fall asleep any second.”
Ellie's voice rasps as she rambles on, looking up at you with those big eyes that make you weak in the knees, and you can't resist the urge to just reach out and ruffle the auburn tufts of hair laying chaotically on her head, smirking as you mutter,
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
Ellie’s cheeks almost immediately flush. Her gaze begins to flicker away from you, no longer so unaware of the intricacies of holding eye contact.
She opens her mouth in shock, and then her eyebrow furrow quickly to cover up with a scoff,
“You are such a dick.”
“What? I didn't even do anything!”
“Dude, you do this every time and it pisses me off! You can cuss me out one minute and say you hate me and then be all corny the next?!”
“Okay, that was in the heat of the mo-”
“Yeah, right, 'in the heat of the moment.' You say shit like that every time we argue and you don't even apologize. At least be honest.”
Her expression looks earnest and it makes your heart contract a little tighter, the hot bite of guilt nipping at your insides. But something else stirs too.
You hate how attracted you are to her when she’s frustrated.
This room, with the warmth of body heat and candlelight intoxicating you and the red glow that casts over Ellie’s pretty face, makes the gaze she holds up at you so sweetly drowsier through the obscurant of her thick eyelashes, makes the swell of her bottom lip as she releases it from a harsh bite seem so much more enticing, makes you feel like your inhibitions are strapped to a ticking time bomb.
The pull is electrifying - more than magnetic, and you'd give anything to lay your skin onto hers, to feel each touch, so gentle, ignite your skin, and embrace her wholly. Consume doesn't even seem too strong a word.
“I don’t hate you, Ellie. Here, come sit."
You shift aside and pat the space next to you, watching intently as she huffs and rises to her feet before flopping down beside you.
Unbeknownst to her, all her movements are so much more sensuous now - you’re trying desperately to ignore the sliver of skin that showed as her shirt rode up her stomach when she got up, but it’s almost getting painful.
So much so that you have to physically drag your mind away from it.
“Anyway, have you had dinner yet?”
Ellie blinks a few times, caught in the crossover between the two completely separate conversations as she fumbles her way through a response,
“No, not yet. I was planning on ordering something later though. Why?”
“I’m starving.”
She chuckles and you feel the tense disposition of your muscles physically loosen.
“Oh, you’re hungry, huh? You want me to order food for you too, don't ya?”
“And you’ll do it because you’re the absolute coolest, most awesomest person in the whole entire world, right?”
She smiles softly, "Alright, alright, tell me something I don't know."
As your eyes meet, something in you clicks into place.
Your heart is thumping erratically in your chest. She’s so close; her hands are so near. You could lean in ever so slightly and your lips would meet.
For some reason, something in you is saying that it’s now or never, so the petrifying thoughts of any possible consequence arise again.
It’s realistic to be scared. That’s why you pushed down these feelings away for so long. But, in a moment of clarity, you realise your relationship is strong enough to withhold something like this, even if it would be devastating if Ellie didn’t feel the same way. You’ve known each other since you were children, your childhood homes are only a few houses away from each other, all your friends are friends, and even your parents are friends. There’s no escaping this.
Even if it doesn’t go as planned, you have to take the leap or you’ll never get over her.
“Thank you, Ellie... God, this is gonna take a really long time though, isn’t it?"
“Pfft, you’re such a baby. It’s gonna take like 30 minutes max, just chill.”
You smile, the thumping of your heart becoming supermassive. You can feel it filling your being and surrounding you completely. Then, you mutter,
“Maybe we can keep ourselves entertained in the meantime,”
and the seal is broken.
Ellie is perplexed. From where she sits on your bed, you’ve suddenly become a lot more tense, and your gaze bears into her much more sharply than she’s ever noticed before. But it makes her feel weird… in a good way, and her throat runs dry as she raises an eyebrow skeptically.
“And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?”
You shrug,
“Can I try something?”
“I’m kinda terrified but okay,” she chuckles
You hum, falling into a rhythm, the nervousness so intense that it numbs you.
“Lay back for a second.”
Ellie’s eyebrows draw together with a burning curiosity, feeling a heat rise in the pit of her stomach which seems to answer her unspoken questions.
She know what’s going to happen now, but it feels so surreal, it can’t be.
She shuffles back and lays into the embrace of your pillows, surrounded by the sweet scent of your perfume. She’s been dreaming of this moment as soon as she realized she saw girls differently.
How could she not? You've always been right next to her, and you were perfect in every way - you are perfect in every way. You’re smart, funny, sweet, and she thought you were beautiful as soon as she saw you for the first time, gazing at you with her jaw dropped for, most likely, a few too many seconds. Then it happened again one day when she was 16.
You’d both gone out to get ice cream and she became enraptured by the hazed look in your eyes as the liquid dripped down your chin and over the smooth skin of your hand, your soft hair, tussled by the summer breeze. Her breath caught in her throat as she scrambled to look away. She knew there was no turning back.
But most of all, you’re the one she goes to before anyone else, and it’s always been that way. You’re the only person that brings her a different kind of peace, that indica high, calmer than she feels with anybody else. You’re her girl. Always have been; always will be.
All the playful flirtation and lingering glances - she’d never imagined would really result in this.
 “What now?” she whispers, her voice coming out quieter than she intended for it to, giving her away in an instant. She clears her throat but you can't help but play into her discomfort, pleasure woven through the feeling you get when you make her needy. You already feel a buzz from the fact that she’s not pushing you away or playing you off. This was only ever a daydream in the past, but so, so much better than you'd hoped.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that; you just make sure you’re comfortable. Are you comfortable?”
She stutters through an answer, taken aback by the silkiness of your tone. God, she had dreamed about this so many times and never imagined you so like this, never imagined herself so submissive.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m comfortable… You… You aren’t fucking around, are you?”
“Fucking around? Gonna need you to be more specific, Els.”
She forces a gulp down her now dry throat, looking up at you and she mutters,
“Uh, I don’t know… Like… Like that one time you twisted my arm because you wanted to see-”
She hesitates, cutting herself off, her eyes drifting down to the curvature of your body that she’s wanted to feel for too long for just a split second.
“Can I touch you?” she splutters as soon as the thought enters her mind, overwhelmed with a sudden panic, her eyes flit up again to meet yours, flickering between each pupil in desperate search of any confirmation.
A shudder ripples through her body as your hands move closer, taking the lead before you give her the chance to. Her heart is racing.
“Can I touch you?”
She nods, almost too eagerly.
She curses internally.
You let your hand hover over her shoulder for a moment,
“Hmm, and where is it okay to touch you, Ellie?”
Ellie feels dangerously flustered. She tries to regain her composure, but it’s long gone out the window, and she’s like a handful of clay, soft and malleable, pervious under the sensational pressure of your fingertips.
“Anywhere.”
A soft smile graces your lips.
“Thirty minutes.”
You run your hand down her arm, grazing the skin gently with your nails and then down her stomach to her hip under her shirt, taking time to fully feel the gentle grooves and curves of her body for the first time.
“Is this okay, Ellie?”
She lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hand trailing over her skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. She swallows once more before replying, her voice unsteady.
“Yeah… Yeah, that’s fine. It feels… nice.”
“Hmm,”
Then, you place your palm on her ankle and begin to move up, ghosting your hand over her inner leg,
“I want you to tell me what feels good. Okay, Ellie?”
“Y-yeah. Sure. I can… I can do that.”
“Good. Good girl.”
You sit up and straddle her lap, and it catches Ellie off guard, suddenly feeling so much more at your mercy as you stare directly down at her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her pink ear. Her breath hitches but she instinctively brings her hands to rest on your waist. You lean in to whisper,
“You look comfortable. Are you comfortable? I want you to feel good.”
And she tries to make sense of the fuzz in her brain to answer the influx of questions you’re asking. They’re barely keeping her grounded. Her hands move down to hold your thighs.
“Y-yeah, I’m good. You… You’re making me feel… good.”
“That’s good.”
Though you're dragging it out, teasing her because her neediness makes you wetter, eager to make her eager, you are just as needy, if not more. You're desperate to taste her, to be close to her, to feel her lips moving sensually with yours.
You place your hand over one of hers on your thigh and mutter, your words like the wisp of a feather caressing her skin,
“I’m gonna kiss you, Ellie, is that okay?
Ellie thinks she might die. The way her heart buffered in her chest once she processed your words felt too intense to not be her going into cardiac arrest. Either way, she's happy. What a way to go.
Somehow, all her feelings have culminated in this moment, in something she would never have expected, and her grip tightens to remind herself that that is really your body she’s feeling and this is really real.
She nods slowly, drowsy eyes meeting yours.
“Yeah… Yeah, yes, fuck, y-you can kiss me. Please.”
But, fuck, you just can't help teasing when she looks like she's yearning for you so sweetly that it makes your pussy flutter.
So, instead, you lean forward and kiss her forehead, listening to her labored breaths catch and watching her lips twitch in confusion when you pull back with your hands on either side of her head supporting you. You look her in the eyes and move one of them to caress the red stray hairs clinging to her face away.
“You look so beautiful."
“Th-thank you… You’re…”
It's obvious she's flustered, and it only makes you feel more high, so you pull back and kiss her cheek, mocking,
“Hm? You gonna finish that sentence, Els?”
“You’re- fuck… Y-you’re beautiful… too.”
“That’s my girl.”
You kiss the corner of her mouth and Ellie’s heart is beating hard enough for her to feel like her whole body is pounding as she squirms to lean into your touch.
“Y-your girl?”
“Yeah, Ellie.”
You lean in and finally connect lips, words blanketed by the contact.
“My girl.”
Ellie melts beneath you as you finally kiss her properly. Despite her usual nature, she finds herself completely powerless against the feelings coursing through her body. You’re completely overwhelming her senses, and you’ve never seen her like this.
She wraps her arms around your waist, and presses into the small of your back to pull you impossibly closer as she kisses you back deeply, losing herself in the moment.
You sink into her, deepening the kiss with impatience and roaming your hands along the expanse of her freckled skin while gently rutting your hips into her.  
Ellie moans against your mouth at the pressure, and you use the opening to circle her tongue with your own, making her body arch up into you.
She runs her hands along your sides, her fingers groping the fat of your ass as you grind against her. The sensations are overwhelming, arousal pooling in her underwear as her desire for more continues to grow.
“God… Please…”
You pull back, sealing your thirst with a peck on her lips.
“You’re so good for me, Ellie. You want me somewhere else?”
When she looks up at you, her eyes are clouded with desire. She can’t find the words to express herself properly, the intensity of the moment rendering her speechless, but she pushes through the fog,
“Y-yeah… I need you… more, fuck, please.”
It's blatant that your own arousal is overtaking your need to push her, so you lift her shirt up and place kisses along the soft, velvety skin of her chest, circling her pebbled nipples with your tongue. Ellie lets out a soft gasp at the warm and wet feeling, tingles erupting through her chest, and her body caves to feel the gentle pressure deepen before you get up from her lap and lift her thigh.
She watches you go with wide eyes, following you away by pushing herself up off the mattress in a subconscious attempt to remain close to you. You’re already looking back at her for permission before tugging off her sweatpants,
“You know something, Els?”
Her eyes are dark with desire and her response is hoarse.
“What… what is it?”
“I’m still really hungry.”
You push her leg up and place an anything-but- chaste kiss upon the fat of her inner thigh, watching her shudder and her eyes roll back ever so slightly in pleasure,
“Can you help me?”
Her breath hitches in her throat. She nods once, swallowing hard before replying.
“Yeah... Yeah, fuck. Just... Please,” she thrusts her hips up against you.
You run your fingers down her stomach, over the wispy auburn curls trailing down to her pussy and and over the damp fabric of her underwear, drunk off the sight of her flushed beneath you,
“Do you think you can handle that?”
Ellie's body tenses as she gasps out,
“Y-yeah, I can handle it… Fuck... You're making it really hard to think straight.”
You just smile as you drag her underwear down her legs agonizingly slowly before throwing it aside haphazardly. She watches you lower yourself in front of her pussy and it makes her throw her head back.
It's swollen and glistening, squelching quietly as she tenses above you in hungry pulses, and the exhale of a warm breath over it causes her to shiver. You chuckle.
Ellie bites her lip to muffle a moan, knowing how fucking pathetic it is that she finds it hot when you're mean, and that the breathy melody of your laugh only turned her on even more, when she didn't think that was possible.
“Please, baby…”
You run your tongue over your bottom lip and push your face in to kiss her protruding clit gently, feeling her convulse before you. She wants nothing more than for you to give her the release she craves but, before she knows it, you’re pulling away abruptly, and her throbbing pussy is left dripping again.
“Patience, okay?”
She strains out a scoff with the last shred of sanity left in her and mumbles,
“You're really testing my limits here,”
“What was that, sweetheart?”
Ellie meets your gaze with frustration, her body thrumming with need. Your teasing and the way you tower over her laying body are making her feel insane, making it difficult to get any words out. She swallows hard before replying, her voice slightly breathless.
“I said... You're testing my limits... Don’t tease me... Fuck, you’re such a dick,”
“I don’t think…”
You lean closer and run the tip of your tongue from her hole over her swollen pink clit, smearing her slick up crudely. Ellie squirms, her body taut with need.
“I don’t think I like your tone, baby, do you want me to stop? Is that what you want?”
Her eyes widen as she shifts into pleading,     
“No, no, don't stop. Please... I don't want you to stop. I'm just... Fuck... You're driving me crazy.
“I’m the one who gets to call the shots, okay, Els? I’m gonna need you to say sorry and then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you need.”
“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just... I need you so bad. Please, baby, fuck…”
Ellie feels a surge of impatience, desperate for your touch and frustrated by your insistence on making her wait. She needs you, and she'll do anything to get you to give her what she wants, but what you want is to make her writhe. You kiss her forehead,
“Good girl,”
and then you crawl back to where you desperately need to be: between her legs, and push her thighs up to her chest before burying the lower half of your face into her core without warning, your tongue flexed erotically as you slurp the slick from her pussy like you're starving, flicking your tongue erratically and eagerly.
“Oh, fuck... Just like that... Please, don't stop...”
Ellie’s moans are sweet and debaucherous, with her hands scrambling for purchase, grasping at the wrinkled sheets beneath her when you thrust your tongue into her.
Your eyes never leave her face, watching the way she sinks further into the loss of control, mouth opening wider, eyes rolling back further. You slowly sink a finger, and then another, into her drooling hole with ease, feeling her pussy flutter around you.
The hold you have on her thighs is tightening mercilessly, but you're losing yourself too, untouched and squeezing your legs together to satiate your own ache.
Quickly, intoxicated by the depraved squelching sound filling the room and the suction of her walls taking in your digits, you plunge them deeper, in and out, in and out.
“Oh, oh god... Fuck, baby, please don't stop... Fuck, I'm cumming, I’m-”
Ellie arches her back, lifting off the mattress, her body tensing up as the pleasure builds to a peak within her, faster than you had anticipated. You keep your eyes trained on her, and they meet when she looks down on you, bottom lip red and raw, tugged between her teeth, eyebrows knitted in rapture.
She's completely captivated by you, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge of climax, but the sight of your half-lidded eyes gazing up at her knocks her over the edge with intensity.
She lets out a groan and then a cry of ecstasy, her body trembling beneath you as the intense waves of pleasure wash over her. You don't let up. She gasps for air, her hands rushing to your head to simultaneously push your face into her as she thrusts her hips against you, and pull you away by the hair as the pleasure becomes too much.
Her chest heaves for a moment before reaching a pinnacle in a soft sigh and, gradually, the room floods with silence. Ellie turns her head to gaze at you hazily, eyes honeyed with affection and exhaustion, and she grins toothily,
“That was... amazing... Holy fuck… You're amazing...”
Finally, you lift yourself up and hover over her.
“Yeah?”
Ellie wraps her arms around you, pulling you against her, and the tenderness of it all makes your chest fill with a tingling warmth reserved just for Ellie.
Her body still thrums with the aftershocks of pleasure,
Yeah... Yeah, that was... incredible."     
“You’re pretty cute when you get all flustered, Els.”               
Ellie blushes at your words; you hoped to draw that out of her, and she huffs slightly in feigned annoyance, though it’s completely half-hearted.
“Shut up.”
You chuckle, but it dies out quickly as she looks down at you longingly, elaborating,
“I... don't know if it's kinda late to say this now but... I love you... I mean, obviously, I do, but as... more than just a friend. I've known for a long time, I've just been too scared of ruining things to actually tell you-”
“Pussy-” Ironic.
“Shut up - you know, that is incredibly rich coming from- fuck, forget that, it's been... building for a while now, and, if you feel the same, I wanna take you out... Maybe, next Friday? Or whatever day works for you…”
She pauses before meeting your gaze, her eyes searching yours intently as she mumbles,
“Please say something. Preferably other than ‘pussy.’”
“Ellie.”
“Yes?”
“I love you too, as more than just a friend... I would love to go out with you and thanks for letting me eat you out. That was pretty awesome."
She grins stupidly,
“You're welcome, it was pretty awesome for me too.”
“Nice.”
Ellie smiles, the furious blush unfading on her cheeks as she studies your expression.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you, you little asshole.”                                                        
“Oh, absolutely.”                       
You place a gentle kiss on her freckled cheek and pull back to see the way she grins, but then her face drops.
“Fuck, I forgot to order the food.”
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redzie02 · 7 days
Text
San comes home from tour in the middle of the night
needed the comfort so here’s a short San fic
warnings: none ?/ maybe slightly suggestive at the end/ comfort/ dialogue starts under the cut lol masterlist
You'd been thrashing around for hours, trying to find comfort, but no luck. The bed was uncomfortable. Your pillow was too warm. Even your comforter annoyed you.
Peaceful sleep was not something you were well acquainted with the last few months, especially considering the absence of your favorite person. San.
You knew what you signed up for when you and San started dating, but it didn't make times like these any less difficult. Daily phone calls and texts only did so much to ease the longing.
Frustrated and miserable, you sat up and dramatically snatched your pillow and smacked it onto the opposite end of the bed. With a huff, you laid down and exhaled deeply, satisfied with the new sleeping arrangement. It was somehow exponentially more comfortable, but something was missing.
You couldn't be bothered to sit up again, so you slid your foot under San's pillow and gently tossed it to the other end of the bed. You held it tightly to your body, inhaling the subtle mixture of San's shampoo and fresh body odor before tucking it under your chin- the same way he holds you.
The remnants of San's faint aroma hit you straight in the gut. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your throat starting to tighten.
Just one more week and he'll be home. Don't cry. You repeated these words to yourself while blindly patting down the bed in search for your phone. You squinted at your screen before sending a text.
3:58 am my y/n♡: i miss you :(
You tossed your phone to the side, not expecting an answer. You'd sent San over a dozen texts yesterday, but he only responded back by hearting a few of the messages. A bit infuriating, but you understood he was most likely just busy.
-
You awoke with a startle when you felt something lightly dragging up and down your arm. The lamp in the furthest corner of the bedroom was on, casting a soft yellow glow, but still bright enough to leave you squinting at the figure before you.
You almost whimper when you realize San was standing just a few inches away from you. You practically leapt up, throwing your arms around San's neck, almost causing him to stumble. You couldn't help the whine in your voice as you spoke, your voice groggy from the fatigue. “I thought tour ended next week.”
His strong arms wrapped around your waist, constricting your breathing a bit, but you didn't care. “I got the dates mixed up, that’s my fault, baby, I'm sorry. I texted you when I was on my way thirty minutes ago, didn’t you see it? I sent it right after I saw your text.”
“I don’t even know where I threw that thing, if we’re being honest." He chuckled into your neck. "Ugh, I don’t care. You’re finally home.”
You pulled him backwards until he was laying on top of you on the bed. He lifted his head from your shoulder, his smiley eyes taking in every millimeter of your face as you did the exact same. He freed his right arm from under you and smoothed your hair out of your face. His breath tickled your cheek as he quietly spoke, “It was four in the morning when you texted me…Why were you up, hmm?”
You wrapped your legs around San’s waist, your whole body clinging to him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, your fingers caressing his warm, soft skin. “I haven’t been able to sleep without you.”
He raised his eyebrow, but his body relaxed even further in your embrace. “You never mentioned this.”
“The last thing I want is for you to worry about me when you’re about to perform for thousands of people.” You sighed.
He hummed in understanding, but rebutted, leaning down to place kisses on your cheek. “I want to worry about you. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“I’m telling your mom that.”
“Please don’t.” He pouted and took a moment to run his index finger across your eyebrows and down your nose. “I haven’t been able to sleep either.”
You pinched San's waist, drawing out a small yelp from him. “San! You promised you were taking care of yourself.”
“I was, I swear…but it really started to hit me a month into the tour. It was so hard not seeing your clothes all over the floor.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh? You make me sound like a slob…”
“What I mean is…the only reminder of you that I had with me was the pendant you gave me and your pictures in my phone. Nothing felt like home.”
“Oh. I almost wish that was all I had of you. Everything in this apartment and this city reminded me of you. It only made me miss you more.” His thumb stroked your cheek. "I know it's your job, but I hate when you leave."
“Me too, baby." San's eyes softened when they met your glossy ones, a small pang in his heart. He couldn't help himself as he brought his lips to yours, inhaling your sigh. What started off as soft kisses, grew more eager, months of deprivation just barely being chipped away.
San let out a noise between a whine and a groan as he pulled away. "I missed this,” he cups your face before dragging his thumb from your cheek to your now wet bottom lip. “And this.” He kisses the tip of your nose and continues to leave a perfect path of pecks down the side of your face. “This.” He places a kiss on your earlobe before taking it between his teeth, gently nipping. “You,” he whispers in your ear. “Us.” His lips leave a trail of kisses down your neck. The breath of his sigh tickles your skin, sending chills up and down your body.
You push San’s hair out his face, running your fingers through his silky, dark locks. You close your eyes, feeling your body relax just a bit too much. As badly as you wanted to keep going, exhaustion was beginning to eat away at you. “Sannie.”
“Hmm?”
“We should sleep.”
“Continue later?”
“Yes, please.”
a/n: San took a shower before falling asleep btw he is not stinky.,,,all my fics are lowkey the same lol
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 9 months
Text
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Simon is out at a stag party for Prices upcoming wedding when he comes how early with something important on his mind that he needs to see you to say. Is he just drunk or is it something more?
Word Count: 3.8 k
Warnings:
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Author's Note: I just needed a little more fluff smut, so here is this. I have some other things planned for variety coming soon soon.
***
The ringing vibration of the front door opening and shutting with a bit of force caught you by surprise as you lay in bed, the phone in your hand the only light in the room as you bundled yourself under the covers to shield out the cold of that winter night. Eyes flitted up to the clock in the corner of your screen; you hadn't expected him to be home yet as you were sure there would be no sign of Simon until at least sunrise if past experience when he went out with the team was any indication.
Heavy stumbling footsteps sounded throughout the small apartment, getting closer with each passing second, before two distinct thuds of something weighted falling to the floor followed from Simon removing his shoes. The footsteps continued on a bit quieter now until they stopped just right outside the door to your bedroom. With a click the door was opened to reveal your boyfriend standing there, eyes searching for your form in the darkened room as he blocked out the light in the hallway from taking up the majority of the door frame.
Reaching up you flicked on the bedside lamp to illuminate everything in a soft yellow glow. Even with the dim light, brown eyes had to blink a few times to adjust as he propped himself up against the door frame until he could see properly. Setting your phone down on the bedside tabletop you gave him the once over as you untangled yourself from your sheet burrito.
“Is there any booze left out there or did you sorry lot clean out the entire stock?” you chuckled as you rolled over onto your back, eyes trailing him as he crossed into the room to stand at the foot of the bed. “Didn't think you'd be back so soon. Aren't stag nights supposed to go till the sun rises? I seriously doubt the boys were done yet.”
“Had to call it quits early,” he drunkenly strung his words together, accent thick and slightly slurred as the whiskey ran through his veins. 
Odd. “Why? Something happen?” you questioned curiously as you watched him throw off his overcoat and rip off his thin balaclava, short, dirty blonde hair springing back up from being crushed under the fabric as he reached to the back of his neck and gripped the collar of his t-shirt to pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor so that he stood before you bare-chested in his dark wash jeans that clung to his sizeable thighs. 
That bulky, broad chest was flushed pink in the center to match the staining through his cheeks, a product of his drinking mixed with the stifling warmth inside the string of bars the 141 found themselves venturing to in celebration of Price’s upcoming wedding. A playful grin crossed his pale lips as he stalked over to the bed and grabbed at the bottom edge of the bedding, pulling the sheets and comforter out from their place tucked under the mattress up so that he could climb in, letting them fall over him as he crawled underneath up towards you.
Parched lips weathered by the frozen air outside caressed your ankles and calves as that giant mass of man traveled up through the covers, taking his sweet time. Over your knees, thighs, and hips he peppered sloppy kisses along the skin as he went until you felt Simon’s rough fingertips brushing against the panties covering your pelvis as he tugged at the hem of your oversized sleep shirt, pulling it up so that he could shove himself inside it as far as he could go. Warmer kisses now made your stomach flutter where they were placed along your torso as his nose nuzzled into your abdomen until your warmth covered his face and heated his cold features.
“Nah, nothin’ like that. Fuckin’ needed to get home to ya is all,” he breathed those need-filled words into your skin under your clothes as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Had a fuckin’ ridiculous cravin’ to see my beautiful girl, so I made up an excuse and told the boys I had ta go.” 
A large hand ran up and down the length of your right hip tracing pathways that he knew by heart, tempting smooth skin with his touch while his padded torso pressed itself over your thighs. He held on tight as if it had been days since he had last seen you in person. Over the years you’d been together you came to notice that whenever those arms were around your body you could pinpoint the exact moment when all the tension he always held in his shoulders would ease and his entire form would relax into you as if he had been holding his breath until the moment he touched you.  
You shook your head with another chuckle; it was always a delightful surprise just how he was even more affectionate when he was drunk. “You weren’t even gone that long. Miss me that much?” you questioned playfully as Simon kissed in delicate circles around your navel, lips eventually trailing upwards over temperate skin towards your ribcage to caress the delicate underside of your breasts with his mouth. 
“Always,” he returned, voice muffled by lips against your body. 
Everywhere he went your skin lit up, reacting to the prickly stubble on his cheeks as his face glided over your body until you were entranced by the feeling of him. Your hands kneaded at the muscles in his shoulder as you writhed beneath him and he would have continued to turn you into a puddle, but there was something he needed to do first; the real reason he had rushed home.  
Slipping out of your shirt he emerged from the top of the sheets, cropped hair tousled and cheeks even more pink. The scent of whiskey was on his breath, accentuated by the sting of tobacco and the frosty winter night. He moved up onto his knees between your legs, kneeling over top of you, sunset eyes drifting down your form from your face to your torso. 
“What?” you questioned as he sat there, taking you all in with gentle eyes that softened the longer he gazed. 
“It’s always been you and me, ya know,” he said as his hands wandered to find yours resting by your sides. Spreading them open with his fingers, he slipped his palms up against your own so that he could interlace those long digits between the empty spaces. “Through all the bullshit, all the long deployments and late nights, all the nightmares and the bad days. You’ve always been a fuckin’ rock for me through it all.”
Simon lifted your hands still wrapped in his and moved them up over your head as he laid himself over top of you until his face was mere inches from your own. 
“Well yeah, I love you ya know,” you agreed, unsure of why he was saying such things now. “But where is this coming from, baby?”
“Conversations tonight got me thinkin’ things again,” he admitted.
You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of things, hmm?” 
“Things I’ve been thinkin’ for a while now, just didn’t think I could make ‘em happen… or that maybe I shouldn’t. But maybe I can…maybe we can…” his words tripped over themselves with the quickening pounding of his heart.
“Simon, what are you trying to say?” 
He paused with a smile on his lips, sighing contentedly. His inebriated mind had nothing but the truth to give him as a response and so he spoke the words he never thought he’d get to say to anyone, but he was surprised how easily they rolled off his tongue now. “I’m tryin’ to say that I’ve been thinkin’ about how I wanna fuckin' marry ya, luv,” he stumbled out, copper gaze lingering on your eyes shimmering in the low light. “Don't want no one else to get a fuckin' chance to snatch ya up before I come to my senses and make sure your mine foreva’.”
You laughed it off, caught completely off-guard by his words. They say that drunk words are sober thoughts, but this was more than you had ever expected from him tonight. It wasn't that you hadn't thought about the possibility of such a future with Simon, you'd been together for long enough now that it was something you had hoped for, yet whenever the subject was approached the few times it was before it was met with hesitation on his part. There was no question that you knew he loved you, that you loved him, but taking that next huge step had never seemed like a priority and you were fine with that. Hearing him say it aloud so assuredly made your stomach flip with anticipation.
However you also knew he wasn't in a state to be thinking clearly and you didn't want to get ahead of yourself just yet. Tomorrow he could wake up, head pounding, and not even remember you had had this conversation in the first place. Best to wait until he could sober up before discussing such heavy things in any more detail. 
“You're drunk, baby,” you chuckled as your hand cupped against him and lingered on his face, thumb tenderly stroking his cheek. “We can talk about this later, okay?”
Closing his eyes he melted into your touch, so soft and silky against his rough face; it was like magic how you were his comfort. It was effortless, your love, and that was something he had never known. Everything had always been a struggle, an uphill battle that he had to sacrifice for, but being with you was the first time he had ever understood when people would talk about someone being their other half because you truly were his. 
“Maybe I’m a little fuckin’ sloshed,” he conceded, “but I ain't gotta be sober ta know that I’m tired of pretendin’ I’m some kind of cold-hearted monster that doesn’t want ta have some type a life outside of my work; like I haven’t been wantin’ ta give ya the title of missus, maybe start a family with ya and all that. Things I didn’t think I’d be able ta have till ya came along and fuckin’ changed everythin’.” 
Fluttering open his eyes they locked onto yours and there was not an ounce of apprehension to be found in their depths. “You’re serious?” you asked, watching for any subtle change in his face as you struggled to find air to fill your lungs.
Again he leaned into you, capturing your mouth within a kiss that spoke volumes of love into you so that the synapses in your brain misfired the longer your lips danced and worked to make your body feel as if it was floating. “As a fuckin’ heart attack,” he breathed against your mouth. “I sat there tonight listenin’ to Price go on and on about not wantin’ to waste anymore time denying tha life he wanted and it made me realize I can’t keep bein’ afraid to take tha plunge. Ya deserve someone ta be better than that, sweetheart. And do ya know what it is that I really fuckin’ want?”
Speech failed you in that moment as his lips brushed across yours, electricity sparking over them as he took a deep breath to fill himself with your scent as his grip on your hands above your head tightened. It was so easy the way you could become consumed by him; his touch, his words, they cast their spell over you in an instant to fill your heart to nearly breaking. And yet all you wanted was more.
You swallowed to gain control of your vocal chords, finally finding your voice. “What?” the simple question barely audible under your breath.
“What I fuckin’ want is for ya ta be my wife.”
You stopped breathing completely for a moment, heart fluttering frantically as the certainty in his statement filled up all that secret yearning in your soul, the one that desperately wanted to be claimed permanently no matter how much you denied it didn’t bother you not to be. 
“Are you asking me or telling me?” you stammered out in a whisper, afraid that this was all an illusion that would break apart the moment you got too loud. 
“I am askin’ ya right now if ya want to be Mrs. Riley,” he answered with a smile. “And don’t fuckin’ say I don’t know what I’m doin’ cause I do, luv. I do.”
Releasing you from his grasp he stretched himself all the way over to the chest of drawers near the bed and pulled open the one that contained the lockbox for his pistol. Pressing the numbered buttons on the front in the correct order he opened it and grabbed something out of the inside that you could not see before he set the lockbox on the ground. Sitting back upright, he held out his hand and inside was something small and square.
You sat up straight in the bed and looked from the velvet box up into his face with a gasp as he flipped the lid open to reveal a ring. “Got it a couple months back,” he admitted, “just wanted it ta be the right time. Kept fuckin’ talkin’ myself outta it cause I thought ya deserved better than me. But I want ya, sweetheart, I wanna make ya mine so fuckin’ bad if that’s what ya want too.” 
All you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat in your ears that drowned out everything else as one of Simon’s large hands cupped around your cheek. “Will ya marry me?”
“Simon,” you said his name so sweetly that it rendered his mind numb as tears pooled in your eyes and time seemed to stand still as he waited for you to finish your answer. “There’s nothing else I want more than to be married to you. Yes, my answer is yes.”
Simon’s reaction was visceral as he hurriedly leaned back down into you with back arching and crashed his lips upon yours, greedily drawing all the love from your mouth that he could as he captured your mouth over and over again. Unconsciously the ring box was discarded on the nightstand as his hands desperately needed to be filled with the being that made up his entire world; that was all that mattered. 
“Whatever the fuck I did to deserve ya I hope I continue to do it to keep ya,” he moaned into your open mouth while he pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck to keep yourself steady as you sat down on him. “You’re the only thing I’ll eva want.”
You let yourself sink into his embrace as his hands kneaded at your hips and ran over the curve of your ass, overcome with so many emotions that it was impossible not to get swept up in them all. “I’m yours,” you responded in a moan. “Not going anywhere.”
The sound of your soft, breathy voice creating music out of the tender sounds as his fingers sent shivers down your spine made the collected and stoic soldier crack at the seams and any trace of the disastrous thoughts that had plagued him about how this interaction would happen fell away; a fire roared to life in his chest, spreading throughout his limbs until his fingertips prickled with desperation as he lost himself in you until nothing else existed except what lay inside the bed.  
Simon was a moth drawn to your flame and if it killed him, then he knew now that he would happily burn.
His fingers went caressing along the lines of your body over your t-shirt as if he were ravenous, as if he hasn’t touched you in years: over hips and thighs, circling over the fullness of your backside, up and around to your back where he flattened his palms to run them up the length of your spine all the way to where he ran coarse fingers through your hair at the back of your head. A tangled mess of limbs and lips, raw and wanting, as his hands descended back down into your lap.
Grabbing the hem of your sleep shirt with his exploring fingers, he released your mouth for as long as it took to rip it off over your head and toss it somewhere onto the floor. “There she is,” he breathed before mouth was diving into all that newly exposed warm flesh. Simon’s mouth left your kiss-flushed face and traveled to your jaw, adorning it with his lips as he dragged them along the length and trailed them down to your neck where they meet his fingers who took over and followed down the line of your neck to your chest and around the soft tissue of your breasts.
Securing you to him with a strong arm around your waist, bare chest against bare chest, his hand rubbed across the length of your thighs until he decided to slip it in the crevasse between them. Up against your panty-clothed pussy he pressed his hand sending chills along your skin so that you’d buck against his hand and you could feel a smile grow on his mouth that now rested at the crook of your neck.
“I fuckin’ love makin’ ya feel good baby,” he groaned. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ perfect… so perfect, pretty girl.”
Simon pushed his fingers up through the cloth until he was sure he had your petals pressed into your clit so that he could grind into it over and over until you began to ache something fierce. Your hips mirrored the work of his fingers as you rolled them over his hand, the excitement of the moment and the giddy feelings heightening all sensations so that the slightest bit of effort had you dripping.
Suddenly you pulled away from his mouth, leaving his lips missing your touch. “Take off your pants,” you said.
“Only if ya take off these tiny things,” Simon smiled as he pawed at your pelvis.
That was a deal easily made.
It was a mad scramble to remove the rest of the clothing that kept you apart, his jeans being ripped off in a flash as you pulled off your panties, but you were quick and resituated yourselves back in that intimate position of facing one another. His cock throbbed hard, the veiny appendage swollen and aching and ready to slide into you. With a firm grip he helped you situate yourself kneeling over his cock and then held onto you as you slowly lowered yourself onto the engorged tip.
Breathing strained and muscles tensed along his abdomen as Simon slipped inside, your body taking him all in down to the base of his cock. Your arms locked around the back of his neck to keep you from falling off his lap, delicate whimpers dripping from your lips as his cock nestled securely inside to stretch you good and full to the brim. The stretch of him was heaven, only slight discomfort that immediately gave way to ecstasy as it pulsed and throbbed against your walls like a heartbeat deep in your core, its rhythm making your body tremble to the cadence of a dance that only you two had perfected.
“I love you,” the emotion-laden words left your lips.
“I love ya too, sweetheart,” he returns without missing a beat. 
There were no more words that could be said as you both devolved into beings created solely for the pleasure of the other, the sounds of grunting and moaning filling up the room. The longer you went the harder you ground your hips into his pubic bone to engage your swollen clit like you couldn’t get enough of the way it felt. Your fingertips tingled with the prickling sensation of them running over the cropped bottom of Simon’s blonde locks at the back of his neck as you rode him, every part of you from your head down to your toes in pure bliss. 
Simon let you take the lead, so worked up that he was barely hanging on by a thread the moment he was inside you, the overwhelming sensation of love being shared the catalyst that drew you both closer to the precipice of release. Tender snaps of his hips upward into you helped to engage that region inside your core that felt divine. Mixed with the rubbing of your clit against him and you were quickly being made to come undone. 
Head falling forward, your eyes closed as you moaned into his face. “Yes, mmm… yes.”
“Come with me baby,” he groaned as he leaned forward so that your foreheads were pressed tightly against one another, “I know you’re close. Come on, you and me, together.”
Your hands around his neck squeezed harder to match the feeling as his grip wrenched down on your hips, your mouth hung agape as you desperately focused on your breathing. The coil wound tightly in your abdomen pulled taunt, body vibrating with pleasure, your orgasm within reach. It wouldn’t be long now and Simon was straining to hold on till the end.
“That’s it,” he coaxed gently, keeping his movements at a steady rhythm. “Just breathe; we’re almost there.”
The coil of arousal compressed in your core finally snapped and with a shudder your orgasm rocketed through you fiery hot, making you whimper closed mouth into his face as your hips bucked harshly into his. And before you could even finish through a second of your ecstasy, Simon locked his mouth onto yours as he let go and came fast and rough, mixing his groans with yours in the space created by your mouths.
Remembering what started this all he stretched his arm over to the nightstand and reached for the ring inside the box, taking your left hand to place the delicate band around your finger. He held up your hand before you both to admire the look of it, watching the gem glint and gleam in the light as he turned it back and forth. Never in his dreams could he imagine something so perfect being his to keep.
Simon’s hands stayed locked to your hips as a natural rhythm rocked you both back and forth through your high, just breathing until you could both come back down. He didn't want to let you go and you were more than content to stay nestled in his arms for as long as possible just to feel him. Eventually his heart rate slowed enough that he could breathe normally again and as he did he eased you both down to the mattress, you resting atop his chest. Your finger drew lazy patterns through the hair along his chest as the pair of you clung to one another.
Simon brought your hand to his mouth and placed gentle lips to it. “Can’t believe I get to ‘ave her as mine for the rest of my life,” he said as he pulled you into another toe-curling kiss, as happy as one person could be.
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princessbrunette · 8 months
Note
imagine rafe not being able to spend the night and your house bc he has like early business to do and you’re just so whiny begging him not to leave like clinging to his leg and he’s like “jesus christ i’ll be back tmr 😒” but at the same time he’s like 😊 bc it’s nice to feel needed
─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──
you were clingy and you knew it. instead of pretending like you weren’t, you learnt to fully embrace it. no matter how much rafe tried to act like he didn’t, you knew he loved it deep down. it made him feel wanted, something not many other people in his life offered him.
he pats his keys in his back pocket as he slowly makes his way to your front door, lips parted as he thinks over everything he had on his person when he arrived, making sure to leave none of it behind. it was bad today, you really needed him. after the day you had, you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and just… better. you cry, pathetic and hiccupy as you keep a clasp on his hand and he lets you hold it all the way to the door before pulling himself out of your grasp.
“okay, hey— can’t keep cryin’ like this baby you knew i wasn’t stayin’ over tonight because i told you. gave you time to… emotionally prepare n’shit. i got business to do early tomorrow, remember?” he raises his eyebrows, trying to reason with you. his voice is stern but he’s mopping up your tears with his thumb anyway.
“i know but i had a bad day, i just want you to sleep here!” you sob, clutching over his wrists as his hands clean you up and he shakes his head, gently removing them.
“look i’m — i’m sorry, alright? you know i wanna stay here, more than anything. but i’m a man now, yeah? i’m in charge of handlin’ business n’i got people relying on me. sometimes you— you have to make the hard choice, and this is one of those times.” he lectures you, so you do what any reasonable human being would do, and lower yourself to the ground, wrapping yourself around his leg.
“you’re not going.” you swipe your tear on his pants and he sighs in exasperation, trying to wiggle you off to no avail.
“jesus fuckin’ christ, are you kidding? get up, hey—” he tries to walk, but you cling him tighter, coming with him and he stops again. “let go and listen to me. m’gonna count to three, don’t let me get there.” he lifts up a finger and you unlatch yourself, staying on the ground in a ball. rate lowers himself into a squat, expression stern and yet yielding. “alright. you’re gonna calm down, yeah? i will sit with you until you fall asleep, and it better be within the hour or i’m just gonna leave. get up, c’mon. go brush your teeth.” he stands, giving you a little nudge with his foot and you hop up, happy enough with the outcome of him staying a little longer and run upstairs, not waiting for him to follow.
he huffs out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “little shit.” he whispers, following you. once you’re all in bed, ready — he comes and sits beside you, mopping up the last remaining tears that stain your face with the backs of his knuckles. “okay. i’m here. now go to sleep.”
“kiss, rafe.” you pucker your lips and he indulges you, bringing you a nice long one to satisfy you before pulling back.
“close your eyes.” he sighs tiredly and you do so, but not before switching off your lamp. he places a hand on your back over your pyjama shirt, rubbing slow circles as if tries to silently coax you to sleep faster so he can get going, smiling secretly to himself at your shenanigans.
he won’t admit it, but he did feel really sad to go, and even considered staying— but he knew he had to make the responsible choice, so with one final look, he left you in your bedroom fast asleep.
─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──
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coff33andb00ks · 3 months
Text
Rule Breaker - Pt 4
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max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)
{masterlist}{prev} {next}
warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, masturbation (m), lando gives wisdom Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 5682 auth.note: logan girlies frighten me but i love y'all :) spotify: i made a playlist
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The alarm started ringing and Max sighed, reaching over to turn it off. It wasn't as though he was asleep. Sitting up on the side of the bed he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, groaning when Jimmy gave a sleepy mew and jumped off the bed. "Ja, early morning," he sighed, switching on the lamp and getting to his feet. His cat didn't care, already slipping from the bedroom with his tail high. Sassy glared at him from the foot of the bed and he sighed again, grabbing his phone and turning off the lamp.
He grabbed jeans and a white t-shirt to put on before leaving the room, wondering again why he'd agreed to do this. It was stupid. No one cared what a day in his life was like, he was sure of that, no matter how many comments y/n had shown him on Checo's video asking when they'd get one of him. But it was too late to back out now—
His phone screen lit up and he stood in the bathroom, staring at her message.
-Good morning, I'll be there in ten minutes.
Crisp and professional. Just as it was supposed to be. Just as she had been for a week. When he'd messaged her the day before to bring Kevin over for another Disney movie she'd said yes, and had sat as far from him as physically possible while still being in the same room.
-I'll be ready. I'm up. Ok.
Eight minutes later she was at the door, looking maddeningly well-rested and relaxed and he didn't know why but that only annoyed him even more. He took the camera bag from her, noticing she was wearing baggy pants and an oversized sweatshirt instead of the usual jeans and Red Bull team shirt.
"I'll change before we go to the track," she told him.
He hated that the first few moments he was around her now were a little awkward. "What do you want to get first?" he asked, reaching up to smooth his hair and freezing when she moved to stop him. "What?"
"A day in the life, Max. Let your hair be messy. And you said you have coffee first thing right? So we'll do that – I've got the list you made." She took a sip from the to-go cup in her hand and he smelled coffee. "Kevin said to tell you good morning, have a great practice, and he had fun yesterday."
"I did too," he said. It was the truth. They'd watched a movie, and when that was over y/n had still been working on her laptop so he'd given Kevin a tour of his game room, letting him see and hold his trophies and helmets and even giving him a couple laps in his racing sim. She'd joined them, and for a little while it had been comfortable and easygoing, with her teasing him about his fridge of Red Bull within reach and having so many trophies he was running out of room to put them. He'd been about to suggest dinner, the words on the tip of his tongue, when she'd said it was time for them to get going.
She had the camera out, and so he started his day, answering her questions about trying to keep to a routine. The sun was coming up and she joined him on the balcony, asking about daily habits that stuck with him from childhood. He drank his coffee, watching out the corner of his eye as Sassy, his antisocial cat, jumped up into her lap and settled in for a cuddle.
"She's sweet," y/n said, and though there was a gap of at least six feet between them he could hear the cat's purring.
He made a face. "She hates being held."
Y/n looked at him, then down at Sassy. "Is that true?" she asked softly, running one hand over Sassy's fur.
As though intent on making him a liar, Sassy let out a squeaking purr and stretched, headbutting y/n's chin. Max scoffed, finishing his coffee. "She usually hates being held."
"Maybe you just don't know how to hold her properly," she said, turning her attention fully on the cat.
"I hold her just like I hold Jimmy," he said with a roll of his eyes.
"But you're not Jimmy, are you, darling?" she cooed, rubbing Sassy behind the ears and kissing the top of her head.
Max waited, knowing how much Sassy hated that sort of attention. And, traitor that she was, Sassy leaned into the touch, purring almost ecstatically. "You're making me look bad."
Y/n snorted, lavishing Sassy with affection for a few more moments. She set the cat down and stood, and the cat stayed close to her throughout the rest of the morning, calling and winding between her ankles as she got shots and video of Max doing his morning stretching.
"You do this every morning?" she asked, and Max exhaled with a nod while she got on her hands and knees next to him.
"It keeps me focused," he said after leaning on his knees. "Plus this is just a warmup. I'll do training with Rupert before lunch."
"Strength and cardio, right?"
"Will you be doing that with me too?" he asked, resuming his plank.
"Only if I'll get tequila at the end of the day like I did last week."
He chuckled. "I can do a gin and tonic."
"I've never had one of those," she said, trying the plank again.
"You have to lift your hips up a bit more," he pointed out. "And keep your back straight."
She tried again and he pushed himself back, turning to kneel next to her. His hands were on her hips, guiding them up, one hand moving to rest on her back, before he realized what he was doing. Hearing her shaky breath he paused.
"Sorry—"
"No, you're fine, I want to do it. Or at least be able to say I tried."
He nodded, adjusting her form, somehow able to focus on the exercise and not the sudden fantasies that were flashing in his mind. Swallowing hard, he wondered if they'd start invading his daily life and not just his dreams now. "Keep your head down, otherwise you might strain your neck."
"How long do I hold it?"
"It's your first time?" he asked, finally moving his hands from her.
"Doing a plank or having a guy manhandle me?" she huffed.
"Y/n—"
"Sorry, haven't had all my coffee. Yes, it's my first time."
"Then as long as you can."
"How long do you hold them?"
"Two minutes usually."
"Fucking showoff," she muttered, stretching out her arms and relaxing completely.
"I've been doing them for years," he chuckled. "C'mon, time for breakfast."
He was glad she ate with him, glad he'd picked up a few things from the shop the evening before that he'd remembered she liked. It seemed so normal, chatting with her while he cooked, Jimmy by his feet and Sassy by hers. But it made him homesick, nostalgic for something he'd never had.
"I only cook when I'm home," he said. "During preseason I have my meals prepped for me to get me back on track – turn on the kettle?"
She reached over to switch it on. "If you could have anything for breakfast without worrying about training or meal plans, what would it be?"
"This is where I say a cold Red Bull," he joked. When she rolled her eyes and laughed, he grinned. "Waffles. A stack this high." He held his hand several inches above the plate by the cooktop. "With bacon, the kind you can only get in America. And a large glass of milk."
"Butter and maple syrup?" she asked.
"Lots of butter, and the good maple syrup." Looking at the eggs on toast he was plating, he sighed. "I'll have it during our summer break."
"Two weeks off, right? Do you already have plans?"
"Last year I went to South America. I think this year I'll go home, yeah? Spend some time with my mum." Seeing that she was already fixing their tea, he carried the plates to the table and then fed Jimmy and Sassy. "What about you?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'm hoping to get to go home for a few days." She handed him a cup of tea and sat down. "My family usually gets a cottage at the beach for a couple weeks in the summer, and the break starts the second week they're going this year. Kevin misses his Nana, so I've got to get him back for a visit."
"You're close to your mum?" he asked once they'd started eating.
"Pretty close. We had a falling out when I graduated high school. She wanted me to stay near home and go to the local college, but I wanted to go to a school that had a good program. That led to a fight, especially when I was accepted and announced I was going halfway across the country…" She sipped her tea. "Then I graduated and came back home and… It was weird for a little while? But we both apologized and then Kevin came along, and well. She would have forgiven anything, I think, to be able to be in his life."
He nodded, understanding what that was like. Hadn't he done the same with his father? "Can I—" he stopped when her phone buzzed loudly on the table.
Y/n picked it up with a murmured apology, smiling slightly at the screen before answering. "Hey…"
Max's toast turned to cardboard in his mouth when he saw the name on the screen.
"Yeah, I'm at Max's. Day in the life thing. Yeah." She laughed.
He forced the last of his food down his throat and drank his tasteless tea, carrying his dishes to the sink while she talked to Logan.
"No, Ellie's bringing him. Probably around noon?" She paused and he knew she was smiling even though his back was to her. "You're sweet. I'll see you in a little bit? Yep. Okay, I promise. Bye."
"All good?" he asked, forcing himself to sound as casual as possible. Taking her plate when she brought it to the sink, he saw she was still smiling.
"Yeah, it was Logan. He wanted me to bring Kevin to the track. I'll do the dishes since you cooked," she insisted, waving him away.
He stepped aside, opening his mouth to point out the dishwasher but, knowing she would just wash them by hand anyway, he closed it. Leaning against the counter, he folded his arms over his chest. "How was your dinner with him last week?"
She looked at him in surprise. "It was nice."
He nodded. "About—" The timer he'd set on his phone went off and wanted to send his phone through the window. Snatching it up, he silenced it and ran a hand over his face. "I've got to shower, then we can head to the track."
"Sure thing." She tipped her head. "Alright if I change in your room while you shower?"
"Of course." He pushed away from the counter. "No photos of my closet."
She laughed at that, and he felt the awkwardness drift away. "No photos of the closet, promise. But I can get one of the Red Bull pillow on the bed?"
"Absolutely not," he snorted, her laugh following him from the kitchen. He went to the foyer to check his backpack, making sure all his necessities for the day were packed in it. Leaving his phone beside it, he thought about the upcoming practice, mind on the adjustments made in anticipation of the race. He pushed open his bedroom door so he could grab clothes, lurching to a stop at the sight of the nearly nude woman by his bed.
Y/n whirled around, one arm crossing over her bare chest, eyes wide.
"S-sorry," he blurted, quickly looking away even though it was too late for that. "Just need to grab something."
She turned her back to him, and he saw her hand shoot out to snatch her hoodie off the bed, holding it to her. "I thought you were showering."
"I had to get my things ready," he explained, wondering why he felt the need to defend his movements in his own home. "I thought you were washing dishes."
"It was a skillet, two forks, two plates, two mugs, and a spatula. Hardly a big job."
He quickly grabbed clothes, muttering a few more apologies. About to leave, he saw her turning to look over her shoulder and felt his knees weaken. His hip slammed into the corner of the bureau and he winced, cursing, snatching his gaze from her bare skin and leaving the room as quickly as he could, making sure to close the door behind him.
"Fuck me," he groaned, nearly tripping over Sassy, who was of course waiting right outside the door. Stepping around her, he went straight to the bathroom, trying with all his might to focus his mind on practice. The car. The track. Anything but her, because if he let himself think of her he would only think of how badly he'd wanted to—
No. Not allowed. He couldn't kiss her, he damn sure couldn't lay her down in his bed and learn all the secrets of her body. Couldn't find out how her lips tasted, whether she preferred to be held gently or grabbed roughly. Would never learn if she moaned and gasped or whined and squealed. Could never have the taste of her on his tongue or know how wet she could get.
His body craved her like water and he felt nothing but intense desire as he stood under the showerhead, not even trying to deflect his arousal. Giving in, he set the soap down and grasped his cock. He closed his eyes, letting the fantasies run wild. His hand was a sad substitute for what he truly craved. His mind replayed the split second view of her breasts he'd gotten over and over and he was almost ashamed of how quickly he came, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning loudly while his cum splashed on the tile.
Panting, still craving her, he washed himself, trying and failing to push thoughts of her to the back of his mind. Mad at himself for not being in control of his own body, he dried off and dressed, realizing he was taking more concern with his appearance than usual when he smoothed the pomade Charles had given him months ago through his hair. Cursing, he ran a comb through it, scowling at his reflection as he sprayed cologne. "Stupid," he muttered, pulling his shirt on and snatching the bathroom door open.
"No team shirt? I thought you weren't allowed to wear anything else," she teased when he entered the living room.
He looked down at the white tee, unconsciously smoothing it. "I don't live in team clothes," he muttered. He finally looked at her, clenching his jaw to stop his eyes from dipping to her chest.
She'd put on a bra. Pity.
"It looks good. Jeans and a white t-shirt are classic. Very James Dean."
"Who?" Was that some other idiot asshole talking to her? He knew about Logan—
"Actor from the 50's. According to my grandma, all the women wanted him and all the men wanted to be him." She smiled as she zipped up her camera bag. "I watched his movies. If I'd been alive back then I'd have wanted him, too. Ready?"
He nodded, grabbing a jacket. Said goodbye to the cats and watched her get more affection from Sassy in thirty seconds than he had in all the time he'd owned her. Another fantasy formed, and he wondered what it said of him that he was imagining her in his bed. Instead of a sexual slant, the fantasy was her cuddling his cats. Not used to the warmth it filled him with, he let the fantasy play out while they gathered their things, liking the mental image of Kevin and a faceless little girl joining them for morning snuggles.
The elevator ride was interminable, cramped, and he tried to remember what normalcy was while he breathed in perfume and shampoo and pretended she wasn't touching him.
"Are you wearing cologne?"
"A little." The doors open and he breathed clean air with utter relief. Did she like it? Did it bother her? Had he put too much? Should he—
"Smells nice," she murmured as she stepped into the lobby.
Max exhaled harshly, letting his head fall back against the wall, glancing up at the ceiling. "You've got a terrible sense of humor," he muttered to whatever gods might be listening.
"Did you say something?" Y/n asked.
"No," he lied, pushing away from the wall and exiting the elevator. "Just thinking about practice."
She asked him more questions, about the track, if he considered it at least a little his home track since he lived there. Nodded and listened to his answers as they walked to the dock. And it was all almost normal on the boat ride over, her filming clips to post later and getting photos. Then more normal once they stepped onto the trackside dock, surrounded by people now.
Once they reached the paddock she touched his arm to get his attention, not that she really needed to.
"I'll meet you at the garage? I'm gonna run see Kevin for a minute," she said.
"Of course." He reached for her camera bag and backpack. "You can bring him back for a visit—"
"Mama!"
He swung his head around, smiling at the sight of Kevin through the crowd. His expression soured when he saw who was carrying him, but he managed to keep the smile on his face as Logan walked up, greeting him with a nod.
God, he hated this. Hated the way she smiled up at Logan, hated their easy, familiar conversation while he handed Kevin over and told her Ellie had stopped to chat with Oscar. He hated that he hated it and cleared his throat. "See you in a bit, I've got to meet with Christian."
She nodded, and he made sure to speak to Kevin before walking off. Barely two seconds later Lando fell into step next to him.
"Aw, look at 'em. Like a family, yeah?"
Max had nothing but respect and admiration for Lando, but he would have gladly shoved him off the dock if they'd been close enough. "Who?"
"Your social media girl and Logan." Lando grinned, glancing back. "Should've seen her kid like thirty minutes ago. He worships Logan."
"Of course he does, the guy has the mindset of a three-year-old," Max muttered.
Lando exploded with laughter. "The fuck?" He followed Max into the Red Bull motorhome. "Is that jealousy I hear?"
"No."
"Ah c'mon, it's me. Your buddy. Your mate."
"Don't you have things to do?" Max muttered, waving to people milling about as he made his way to his driver's room.
Lando was close on his heels, and the door hadn't fully closed before he started in again. "So you like her?"
He set her bags down and shrugged off his backpack. "Who?"
"Y/n."
"She's my colleague."
"Colleague. You sound like a pretentious dickhead." Lando dropped into a chair and shoved his feet on the corner of the table. "Tell Lando about it, mate. I'm your friend, I won't judge you, just give you advice."
"I don't need your advice," he snorted, kicking Lando's feet down.
"But it's good advice!"
He groaned. "What is it?"
"First you need to tell me the problem." Lando leaned forward, looking far too excited. "You're down bad for her, aren't you?"
Max stared at him, unblinking.
"She gets you all fired up? Got you picturing her doing nasty, freaky things with you? Leaves you bricked and fighting for your life?"
"Jesus," he muttered, looking away.
"Oh, you're desperate," Lando said.
"I am not desperate," he scoffed.
"You're all dressed up. Isn't today when she spends the whole day with you?"
"I'm not dressed up." He wasn't sure what was worse, how he was feeling or hearing Lando describe them in his ridiculous way. "And yes, for the day in the life."
"You did something to your hair, you're wearing your pussy magnet cologne, and you're not wearing Red Bull." Lando ticked off his fingers. "You. Are. Desperate."
"And what if I am?" he asked.
"Mate… Just fuck her and get it over with it."
He laughed. "Life changing advice, mate, I never thought of that."
"See? I'm good—"
"I can't."
Lando's face twisted in confusion. "What do you mean, you can't?" His eyes widened. "Are you – You know you can get medicine for that? No shame in it nowadays. Happens to a lot of guys. Not me, but—"
"What the hell—" Max groaned, throwing a Red Bull at his friend. "I'm not impotent, asshole."
"Oh. Good, because really I'd be worried. You're not that old—" Lando sent the can back. "So why can't you? Because of Logan? They're not official. Just a few dates. He went to see her at her place, but I think they're just friends."
"How do you know all this?" Max asked, checking the time.
"He tells Osc everything and I have a knack for finding out by asking leading questions."
"You mean you're nosy."
Lando waved one hand. "Yes."
"It's not because of him," he finally said after opening a can and taking a swig.
"Then…" Lando threw up his hands and let them fall dramatically. "Why aren't you putting kids in her?"
Max almost choked on his drink. "Mate—"
"She's a fucking milf—"
"Don't say that—" Max held up a hand. "Stop. I can't."
"Again, why?" Lando gasped. "Mate," he whispered. "Did you try and she turned you down?"
"No, she didn't – I – we work together." He rolled his eyes when Lando snorted. "It's in the contracts, mate."
"You're joking."
"Do you want to see a copy?" he finished the drink and crumpled the can.
"No, I mean, you can't be serious? That kind of stuff is only for doing shit in public." Lando shook his head. "It's an easy workaround. Just do it in private."
"What, like I'm ashamed?"
"No, no, c'mon! Stolen looks? Carefully brushing her hand when you're walking together? Sending her a filthy text before an interview? Then as soon as you're back home you bend her over and fuck—"
"Stop."
"It'll be your dirty little secret. You'd have to make sure the kid doesn't notice but as long as you keep it to hotel rooms and when he's asleep that wouldn't be a problem." Lando smiled, expression smug, as though he'd just solved all the world's problems. "As long as you don't say in an interview that you're fucking her, you're good."
"You're insane," Max muttered with a shake of his head. "I can't—"
There was a knock on his door. "Mister Max!"
He was opening it in an instant, grunting when Kevin ran into him. Y/n was behind him, gently chastising him for being so impatient, and Max waved off her concern, catching the boy and lifting him up for a hug. "You having a good day, kleine maat?"
"Yeah! I got my scooter! Can we ride?" Kevin asked hopefully.
"Of course we can." He met y/n's eyes over the boy's head. "Just a little ways down the track?"
She looked ready to say no, but finally nodded. "I've got to get some posts up. Ellie's getting a migraine so she'll probably want to leave soon—"
"Well then we can have fun without her, can't we mate?" he asked Kevin, who giggled. Ruffling his hair, he set him down and looked at her. "Go ahead and do your work, yeah? I'll keep an eye on him."
Her eyes softened and he knew she wanted to insist he didn't have to. That Kevin could go back to the hotel with Ellie. But she smiled. "Thank you."
"Let's go get your scooter, mate," Lando said suddenly.
"Stay with Lando, yeah?" Max told Kevin, looking at his friend. "Don't let go of him."
"He's such a dad," Lando sighed to the boy, taking his hand and leading him from the room. "Does he tell you to eat your vegetables?"
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It's not contagious. Just her migraines are bad right now. I think it's the change in environment. She's not used to the English weather.
She's going to a doctor tomorrow?
Yeah but I don't think they'll have a miracle cure.
Just bring him, y/n. The whole team loves him. We can keep an eye on him when you have to work, and he can stay in the motorhome when it's busy.
Christian said the same thing.
Sometimes he's smart.
You're terrible. Okay, I'll bring him.
Good. Tell Ellie I hope she gets some relief. Is she getting rest?
She just went to bed even though it's only 7. She took a pill that doesn't help the pain but helps her sleep.
She'll be okay, y/n. They'll have something to help her.
Thanks, Max. See you in Montreal.
Safe travels, y/n. Give little mate a hug for me?
Every day. :)
Y/n smiled over the messages and then returned to the messages with Christian. After telling him she would have Kevin with her for the Montreal and getting his assurance that it was okay, she locked her phone, sighing. "Well, buddy, looks like you're coming to Canada."
Kevin looked up from the hot wheels he was lining up on the rug. "Really?"
"Yep. But Mama's gonna be working a lot so we'll be at the track all the time." She hoped this wasn't a mistake. There were countless ways he could get hurt. "You'll have to stay where I tell you."
Kevin nodded. "Okay Mama." He rubbed his nose. "Is Mister Logan coming?"
The duality of child, she thought with another sigh. "Yeah, he'll be here soon. Remember to keep it down, though. Ellie's sleeping." She got to her feet and stepped over his cars so she could get the popcorn ready. "Can you get the movie ready?"
"He said Cars is his favorite," her son reminded her.
"He did."
"Mister Max likes it too. But his favorite is Aladdin."
"I thought his favorite was Tiana?"
"His favorite princess." Kevin followed her into the kitchen, pushing his stool to the counter and climbing up. "But he loves Aladdin."
"Why does he love Aladdin?" she asked, taking down the packets of microwave popcorn.
"He says the genie."
"Well, he has a point." She put a packet in the microwave and moved to get a bowl.
"He likes Tiana because she works for what she wants." Kevin spoke slowly, and y/n knew it was because he wanted to make sure he repeated Max verbatim. He even, probably unintentionally, copied Max's slight lisp.
And so it was that when Logan arrived, she and Kevin were in a debate over the work ethic of Disney princesses.
"I'm not saying she held down two jobs, but Cinderella worked," she insisted while she opened the door. "She cooked and cleaned and dealt with everything in the castle – Hey, c'mon in – and you need to remember it was set like two or three hundred years ago, of course she didn't have a job"
"But she only danced," Kevin said as he greeted Logan with a hug. "Tiana turned into a frog, Mama."
"Are we arguing?" Logan asked with a chuckle.
Y/n rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to defend my girl Cindy and he's showing misogyny."
"Am not," Kevin huffed. Tugging on Logan's shirt, he waited for him to lean down before whispering. "What's miss… That mean?"
"I think it means when a man expects a woman to stay home and cook and clean and raise babies," Logan whispered back.
"That's stupid."
"There's my sweet boy again. Go pick up your cars," she told him, laughing when he ran off to do so. Taking Logan's jacket, she draped it over the hook by the door. "Hey."
"Hey," he murmured, smiling.
His kiss wasn't unexpected. He'd kissed her plenty of times since their dinner in Italy. But there was something added in, something she couldn't quite identify but knew she liked. Leaning into him, she hummed softly when his hand lightly cradled her neck, pulling back at the sound of Kevin throwing his cars into the bin.
"Date in Montreal?" Logan asked.
She opened her mouth to say yes, then bit her lip. "I don't know. I have to bring Kevin with me."
"Oh. I thought he was staying here with Ellie?"
"He was, but she's been having really bad migraines since Monaco. She's going to the doctor tomorrow, but I can't just expect her to deal with him and all that."
"We'll still do something fun."
"We will," she promised, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Go on, I'll get the popcorn."
They parted, and she heard him talking to Kevin while she got the popcorn and drinks. When she brought it out he was already on the couch, remote in hand and following Kevin's directions to find the movie, like he hadn't used their TV half a dozen times by now.
"This is his favorite movie that he watches every other day, so he'll be talking along with it," she warned him with a smile once they were settled and he'd hit play. She could already tell that Kevin would be out before the movie was finished, recognizing the way he rubbed his eyes as he snuggled between her and Logan. Picking up her phone so she could check her email, she half paid attention, frowning when a text from Ellie popped up.
Is your boy toy here? I want water.
She rolled her eyes.
He's not my boy toy but yes. I'll bring you some.
"Be right back," she whispered to Logan, pushing herself off the couch and going to the kitchen to fix a cup of water for her friend. Slipping into the bedroom, she closed the door and approached the bed. "Hey," she whispered, setting the cup down.
Ellie groaned, slowly sitting up. "Thanks."
"Pill hasn't kicked in yet?"
"Almost. Logan here?"
Y/n smiled. "Yeah. Watching Cars."
"Romantic." Ellie breathed deeply. "Water?"
Handing it to her, she sat on the edge of the bed. "You're drugged so you'll be honest…"
"Yes, I think you should sleep with him."
She blinked, pressing her hands to her face. "Thanks, El."
"Welcome." Ellie pushed the cup to her. "He's cute and he likes you. And it's been years since you had some good dick. Sleep with him."
She stood and leaned to kiss her friend's head. "Go to sleep, babe."
"Loves you," Ellie mumbled sleepily.
"Love you more." Leaving the cup on the nightstand, she tiptoed from the room.
She didn't want to sleep with Logan, did she? Just because he was cute – which he was, but she preferred the term handsome – and liked her? She did like him. He was good with Kevin, and he was nice. He hadn't been pushy at all since their not-a-date dinner date, but she wasn't blind. She could tell he wanted more than the quick, stolen kisses.
Just as she'd known he would, Kevin was asleep before the movie was halfway through, and she pried him from Logan's shoulder to go tuck him in. When she returned, he'd turned off the movie and put on Netflix, and she reclaimed her spot.
"Is it okay for me to hang around?" he asked, pushing the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table.
"Of course." Smiling, she laughed when he flopped back, one arm draping around her and dragging her close. She barely paid attention to the show he'd turned on, letting herself enjoy the physical closeness. His hand rubbed her arm and she shifted closer, resting her head on his chest.
"Y/n?"
"Hm?" She tipped her head back, surprised – but not really – when he took the opportunity to kiss her. His arm tightened around her, other hand coming up to cup her cheek and she sank into the kiss, whining a little when he pulled back. "Okay?"
"Y-yeah," she breathed, nodding, shifting so she was kneeling, hands gently grabbing the front of his shirt as their lips met again.
"So we can be more than friends?" he asked between kisses.
Y/n exhaled shakily, wondering how he could ask that question when his hand was sliding under her shirt. Or was he expecting her to determine their relationship? "I mean… Yeah? We can just…" It was hard to concentrate with his hand creeping closer to her breast. "Figure it out as we go?"
"I like that," he whispered.
His fingers brushed the outer curve of her breast and her mouth went dry, feeling the flames of yearning in a long time. "I like that, too," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. She pulled back just when her lips brushed his again, slightly panicked at the thought of having sex on the sofa. "B-but we don't have to go all the way tonight, do we? I don't—"
I don't want to tarnish the couch my son naps and watches TV on.
"No, no, it's okay. I'm good with just kissing you," he promised.
"We can make out," she suggested, because she needed a little more than kissing. Just the training wheels until she remembered what to do and what she liked.
"Hands above the waist?" he asked while slowly guiding her down.
"Good idea." She had the distinct impression that if his hands went below her waist she'd be begging for more. And she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Maybe not ever, and as she started to lose herself in his kiss she wondered if he'd be okay with that, too.
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Taglist:
@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora | @jasons-little-princess | @toldyouitwasamelodrama | @aundercover | @kiwi43-81 | @awritingtree | @voidsfics | @manicpixiemom | @misartymis | (i think i got everyone)
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pathologicalreid · 4 months
Note
Hiii I was wondering if you could write a part 2 or a sequel to the fic your wrote a little ago called next of kin. I loved it so much 😊😊😊 thank u!!! <333
stepping up | S.R.
after taking custody of your younger sister, spencer steps up in his role as caretaker
part one
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: previous murder of parents, emphasis on not having a dad, maya is bffs with jack hotchner, spencer is an empath, not proofread word count: 1.58k a/n: for a while i wasn't giving my requests summary's but now im getting back into that because i realize I Got Too Silly. thank you for requesting! i love you!
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You jumped as your younger sister slammed the door to the garage shut behind you. Keeping her purple backpack slung over her shoulders, she trudged up the stairs and retreated into her bedroom. The six-year-old was either unaware or uncaring of the way you immediately followed her path to the stairs.
In your periphery, you saw Spencer peek his head over the back of the couch, making quick note of your troubled expression before he snapped his book shut and joined you. Hesitating, you looked up the stairs at the landing, the dim light of her lamp left a pinkish glow at the bottom of her door, but there was no noise coming from Maya’s bedroom.
“She didn’t say anything the whole way home,” you murmured thoughtfully, placing a hand on your chin. You’d thought she’d be happy when you picked her up as a surprise – you and Spencer had just gotten back from a case a few hours ago. Your cousin – who usually took care of Maya when you were away – had offered to pick her up from school, but you hadn’t seen her in three days and needed to see her.
Gently, Spencer placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you up the stairs with him trailing close behind. With the two of you standing outside the door, you placed your hand on the brass doorknob and let your hand sit there, listening closely as you registered the small whimpers emanating from inside your sister’s room.
Unable to tolerate it, you wiggled at the door just to find that she had locked it from the inside, “Maya,” you said, consciously keeping your voice soft. “I know that you probably want to be left alone right now, but we need to know that you’re alright,” holding your breath, you waited, hoping that she’d open the door on her own and you wouldn’t have to go hunting for the key.
You were afraid that she was being bullied, she transferred to a new school in the middle of the year and was frequently absent in the beginning, but they didn’t make a guidebook on how to ease a child into a new school following the death of both of her parents. Luckily, Maya was placed in the same classroom as Jack Hotchner, so you knew she’d always have at least one friend around.
Just as Spencer was asking you if you wanted him to go get the room key, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened, revealing your younger sister. Her backpack had been discarded on the floor and her face was bright red, she had been crying.
Shooting yourself in the foot, you hesitated. You just stared down at your sister while she lowered her eyes, watching the floor. Despite the fact that you and Spencer had more than willingly taken her in, Maya was still an orphan. She was a six-year-old whose most prized possession was a stuffed bunny named Thumper, but she was an orphan, nonetheless.
Next to you, Spencer knelt down to the floor, meeting Maya at her height. Tentatively, he reached up and took one of her hands in his much bigger one, “What’s wrong, Bambi?”
Your chest ached at the nickname he had bestowed upon her, keeping your eyes focused on the both of them as Maya retreated back into her room, yanking her hand out of Spencer’s and tossing herself onto her canopy-covered bed. Sharing a concerned look, both you and Spencer made your way into the room.
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you sat at the desk across from her bed, and Spencer sat on the flower rug that she kept in front of her dresser. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you got the chance, Maya blurted, “I don’t have a dad!”
Eyes widening, you seemingly choked on air as your eyes darted from where your sister was now sitting up on the bed to where Spencer stayed still, looking equally as startled as you. Jumping up from the bed, she dramatically dropped to her knees in front of her backpack, unzipping the largest pocket before producing a green folder and thrusting a paper in Spencer’s direction.
Smoothly, Spencer accepted the paper from your sister, turning it right side up in his hands before skimming the print. You wheeled the desk chair over in his direction, eyes flickering over the flyer as you realized what it was for. The school held an annual daddy-daughter dance for Valentine’s Day, and your sister had been handed a flyer.
Once you had gotten through the holiday season, you convinced yourself that you could get yourself and Maya through anything – evidently enough, that had been a mistake. This, this made you angry. The administration knew exactly what your sister had been through, and the fact that they still chose to hold this event.
Her biggest worry should be what theme she wanted her seventh birthday party to be, not being left out of a school event because she didn’t have a parent to go with. You checked the time on her Hello Kitty alarm clock, knowing that the school administration would still be around until the end of the workday, you made a mental note to call them and file a complaint.
Concerned with your next steps, you hadn’t even noticed that Spencer had shuffled across the floor, using his fingertips to wipe tears from her face as she looked up at him with big eyes – Bambi. “I could go with you,” Spencer offered, cupping her small cheeks in his hands as he knelt in front of her.
Frowning, Maya shook her head rapidly, “You are not my dad,” she insisted, stepping back and away from Spencer, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, closing herself off.
Your boyfriend nodded in acknowledgment, this had led to a lot of confusion, as Spencer didn’t want to take over the role of father in Spencer’s life, so Maya frequently introduced him to people as her brother. There were a lot of lengthy explanations as to who he actually was. “No,” he responded simply, “I’m not, and I don’t have any intention of trying to be your dad. You already have a dad, right?”
Stepping back toward Spencer, Maya nodded, “Yes, but he’s gone.” Her arms dropped back to her sides, and your chest ached at the euphemism.
“Did you know that I didn’t have my dad around when I was growing up either?” Spencer asked, speaking tenderly to your sister as he tried to navigate this situation. You stayed completely still, trying not to move lest you interrupt the negotiation process.
Maya’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?” Her small voice came out in a whisper like the information that she and Spencer were sharing was a secret, Maya called whispering adult talk, because that was how you and Spencer always spoke about work.
Reaching up and gingerly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, Spencer nodded almost indeterminately, “Mhm, not the same way that your dad’s gone, but I know what it’s like to not be able do all of the fun dad things. If you’re alright with it, we can go together to the dance.”
“You don’t have to,” Maya whispered timidly, the standoffishness she had displayed earlier completely replaced with nerves.
Your boyfriend nodded, “I know, but I would be honored if you would let me,” he said, taking both of her hands in his. “We don’t have to go at all, but I want to make sure you know that you never have to be nervous about asking me for things.”
She pondered this for a moment before giving a sly smile, “Can I wear a pretty dress?”
“We’ll get you a new one,” Spencer assured her, looking over at you as you sighed, holding a hand over your chest while tears pricked at your eyes. “Does that mean you’ll let me take you to the Valentine’s Day dance?”
Jumping up and down excitedly, Maya beamed and threw her arms around Spencer who, in kind, hugged her tightly, rubbing a hand up and down her back, “I get to go to the dance, and I have no homework! This is the best day ever!”
Laughing lightly behind your hand, you grinned at your sister who was, after all, only six years old. “Your sister and I don’t have to work until tomorrow, do you want to do something?” Spencer offered, reaching out his hand and pulling you over to the two of them, allowing Maya to tackle you to the ground in a bear hug.
“Can we go to the park?” She asked, looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.
You nodded, “Absolutely we can, and we could go out for dinner after too if you want,” you offered, looking over at Spencer as he grabbed the dance flyer and pinned it to a corkboard in your sister’s room.
She gasped in surprise, even though the two of you rarely told her no – one of the dangers of raising an orphan. “Can Jack come?”
Laughing lightly, you quickly realized that your trip to the park was going to become a BAU family affair while you rose to your feet, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans, “If his dad says yes, then we can take Jack with us.”  
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erwinsvow · 4 months
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you had lived in the house next to tannyhill your entire life. though it was smaller, much less grand and a little older, it was home.
your bedroom faced the opposite side of the street, looking out onto the other neighbors. you occasionally ran into sarah and wheezie on the block or during a stroll on your bike and your dad would sometimes be seen talking to ward in the backyard about the weather or the updates to the golf course at the country club.
but in all the years you had been living here, you had never caught the older cameron's attention—at least until the tree poked through your window during the most recent hurricane.
your bedroom—your most sacred space—was now a litter of broken glass and scratched up floors. it would be easy enough to replace, once your parents found someone reliable enough to do it, and the best solution offered to you was relocating temporarily to the guest bedroom. it faced the other side of the street, looking out over the cameron pool and, unbeknownst to you, rafe's bedroom.
at first you just move some of your things in, knowing your parents wanted you to stop running back to your old room until it was fixed. then more things come in, making yourself more comfortable, until it seems that this might as well be your new bedroom. it's easy enough—decorating walls with photos and posters, dragging in your bookshelf and appreciating the joint bathroom a little too much.
you get very comfortable—though you don't realize the curtains in this room are completely sheer. it faces windows of tannyhill that you've never seen another person in, so you assume they must be empty too.
that's when rafe sees you for the first time—changing in your bedroom through his window. you walk in with a white towel wrapped around your body, drying your hair while you pace around. he feels a little green, staring at pretty exposed skin and wet hair like it's the first time he's ever seen a half-naked girl.
you brush your hair and then get closer to the window, a foot perched on the windowsill while you rub lotion onto your legs, and then your arms. rafe's still staring, and though he's sure he looks like a creep if you glanced up and at him, he doesn't stop. finally you get to your neck, and just when he thinks you've finished, you loosen the towel and let it fall to the floor.
all the blood rushes out of his head—watching your hands massage in lotion to the soft skin of your stomach, your back, finally stopping at your tits before you're out of his eyeshot. when you get back in, you're holding clothes in your hand, slipping into a big t-shirt and a pair of panties. he can even make out their blue color from how hard he's staring.
it's a little late—the sun's gone down but your room is still illuminated with light. he sees you crawl into your bed, getting under the covers and picking up a book from the nightstand. like an idiot, he keep staring until you turn your lamp off and go to bed, and like an idiot, he's still hard.
the next morning—after an entire evening spent trying to resist staring at your sleeping form—he goes downstairs to ask someone about you.
"who's the new neighbor?" rafe tries to ask it but it comes out more like a demand—wheezie looks up at him confused and sarah ignores him.
"huh?" his younger sister questions back, looking up from her breakfast. "what new neighbor?"
"on the pool side. saw a new girl. when did they move in?"
"what are you talking about, rafe?" sarah says. "she's always lived there. how are you this ignorant?"
"well, i've never fuckin' seen her before-" he thinks he's starting to get a little angry—maybe more at himself. how is it that he's never seen you before? how is it that you're dumb enough to leave a window uncovered enough for him to stare at you all night, naked, no less?
"dad said the neighbor's tree fell into a window. that's why he's getting the one by their room cut down, they said it was really bad-"
"that's so horrible. the tree was there first-"
rafe steps away, back up to his bedroom and his view of you. you're not there now, he saw you leave the room earlier. he can't help it—he wonders where you went.
that night, the same thing happens. it's terrible—he even turns the light off in his bedroom so you don't get alarmed. you come in around seven, talking on the phone with someone, juggling ice cream and shopping bags. you hang up the phone a little later, putting on something on your television and eating the ice cream from your bed.
he should've stopped looking the second you lick melting ice cream from your fingers, but he doesn't. he watches you pick up your towel and walk away, coming back wrapped in it just like yesterday. same as then, you put on lotion, taking extra time to blowdry your hair. you don't read tonight—probably too tired, he guesses—and go straight to bed. after he's sure you're asleep, he flicks his light back on.
it goes on for longer than he realizes, longer than he expects. it's fun watching your little routine, how oblivious you are to the fact that he's watching it. and you seem nice—sweet, even, with the way you smile brightly whenever your parents come into your room, the way you swing your feet when you're on the phone.
he does a little more digging—true to what his idiot sisters said, you've lived in this house forever. you've been a few hundred feet away this entire time.
like every night—he flicks off his bedroom light at eight. you bounce in, doing everything you always do, exactly the way you always do it. something seems different though—you don't seem tired, crawling into your yellow sheets a little too early.
rafe stands up so fast when he realizes what you're doing, he almost knocks his chair flat to the ground. one hand snaking into your panties—pink tonight—and the other under your t-shirt, you rock against your hands. your room is only lit up with the light of a faint lamp, but it's enough for him to see everything—the way your face contorts into pleasure, the moan you try to muffle with the back of your hand, when you finally cave and take off your shirt.
he keeps staring, about as hard as he's ever been, watches you give up on your hand and fold a pillow in half instead, mounting it and giving him the show he didn't realize he'd been waiting for. and fuck, it's perfect, exactly how he thought you'd be.
rafe doesn't realize he's doing it, palming himself before giving in and taking out his dick, angry and red already, watching you. his own strokes match your pace against the pillow, and it doesn't take long at all—you cum with your head pressed against your sheets and he cums into his hand, so close to the window his breath fogs up the glass.
he gives in twice more—repeating the events of that night when you touch yourself again. the other times he's content just to watch you, not sure when that become such a pleasure in and of itself.
one night you come home with some shopping bags—nothing new. you strip down and try on a pretty white dress with orange flowers, tight where it needs to be yet nothing you couldn't wear around family. you twirl around your room, and then call someone on the phone.
he doesn't know how the thought gets in—maybe because your window was a little cracked and his was open all the way, sound traveling through the window and the words he hears leads to the idea of you, going on a date with someone else, in that dress, plants itself in his mind.
rafe paces around his room, not even caring if you see. you can't go on a date, not with anyone but himself, and the very idea that you'd do something like that makes him angry. it's irrational, though he hardly cares, all he can think about is how to make sure it doesn't happen.
the next night—saturday—you get dolled up, though rafe's not there to watch this time. you put on makeup and even do your hair all pretty, slipping into the dress and tidying your room before making your way downstairs. your date said he'd swing by around seven to get you—and though he didn't seem the type, he was already ten minutes late.
you wait on your front porch for another ten, before deciding to send a text. it bounces back. you call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. with the bitter realization that you've been stood up almost twenty minutes later, you're about to go back inside with watery eyes, when you hear the sound of footsteps in the distance.
"hi, is that you?" you call out uncertainly into the night. your porch lights are dim, only giving you a little glimpse of a man walking towards your home from the street. but he's not coming from your driveway—he's coming from the side, from the cameron house.
when he gets closer, you see that it's rafe cameron—the boy you've been living next to for years but haven't ever spoken to. even if you didn't know your neighbors and his sisters, you'd still remember him—you only nursed a crush on him for years.
"rafe?"
"hey, kid. what're you doin' out here all alone?"
"i.." you stop yourself short—you don't want to tell him you've been waiting for your date, it feels wrong. "i was just waiting for someone. um, what're you-" rafe doesn't let you finish.
"yeah, he's not comin'. not tonight, not ever."
"what?" nervous, frightened, your knees start to shake, feeling like you need to get far away right now.
"i said he's not coming. neither is anyone else. not goin' on any dates. get inside and get upstairs."
"rafe?" you question again, big eyes staring at your neighbor, fearful and confused.
"are you gonna make me repeat myself?" he asks, and almost automatically, you shake your head, complying, but still don't move. "go to your room."
you dart inside. rafe can hear your feet sprinting up the stairs. he turns off your porch light and walks inside your house, up the stairs, until he's face to face with your door with his hand on the knob. he twists, realizing you left it unlocked.
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uvobreakmylegs · 6 months
Text
Interim
Uvogin x reader
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Warnings: mentions of captivity, abusive relationships, abuse, violence, blood, kidnapping, mentions of death
Word count: 9k
2:09 AM
A familiar nightmare wrenched you out of your sleep, one that left your heart pounding and your limbs shaking as you instantly reached for the table lamp, blindly scrambling at the lamp's base before you moved your hand upward to find the light switch. You needed the light on. You needed to be able to see clearly. You needed to know that you were alone – that there wasn't a large figure standing at the end of your bed watching you, waiting for you to become aware of his presence before he snatched you up.
You needed to know that you were the only one in your little apartment.
The light came on and you looked all about the bedroom.
And……
Nothing.
There was no sign of anyone being in there with you. The few pieces of furniture and personal items you owned were in the same places they had been when you went to bed the previous night, and with the exception of your work shirt that hung off the back of a chair, nothing in the room was in any sort of disarray. Nothing torn up or destroyed, no clothes that had been roughly shoved into your aged backpack that hung off the hook on the bedroom door.
And when you looked to the foot of the bed, you didn't see anyone standing before you.
You let out a shaky sigh of relief as you fell back onto your mattress.
Like the other times, it was only a nightmare. It wasn't real, it was only your deepest fears coming out from your subconscious, bringing forward the fears that you tried your best to keep at the back of your head every day. A possibility for your future that you were desperate to avoid.
But despite how often you'd experienced that particular nightmare, that only did so much to calm your rapid heartbeat. After all, he could still find you. Even though you had run so far and done so much to cover your tracks so that following you would be a near-impossible feat, no matter what you did, the fact remained that Uvogin could find you.
With how long you had been away from him, you felt pretty secure that you hadn't slipped up anywhere when you left; if there had been any clue you left behind, any images of you on a security camera that he or one of his friends would be able to see, then he would've gotten you by now. The fact that months had gone by and you didn't see any sign of your former captor had you feeling secure that you had done well when you got away from him.
But he could still find you.
Uvogin liked to travel around when he wasn't with the troupe, usually in search of strong opponents or ways to increase his already astounding physical strength. It was always possible that he might come to the town where you now lived for training purposes. Or maybe he would come for a different reason; maybe he'd come just to see what a remote town in the middle of a frozen wasteland looked like.
Either way, he could always find you. And no matter how much you assured yourself that the chances were slim, the fact that those chances still existed would never allow you to feel completely at ease.
There could always be a morning where your nightmare became a reality.
That thought made you shudder, and you pulled the blanket back up around your shoulders as you curled beneath it, not bothering to turn off the light. You'd need to go into work in four hours, but there was no way you were getting back to sleep before then. At least savor the warmth of your soft blankets before you need to go out into the cold, you told yourself.
You also told yourself not to think about Uvogin while you did that.
But of course, that was an impossible task. The instant you told yourself not to, images of him popped into your brain and he was all you could think about.
It wasn't fair.
After all this time being away from him, the months you'd spent building back up a normal life for yourself as you tried to integrate into your new home, your mind went back to him with every other thought. You couldn't help the way you wondered about what he was doing. Where he was. If today he would casually destroy numerous innocent lives that he wouldn't bother to remember, or if he would decide that the day was going to be a peaceful one. You couldn't imagine his way of life had stopped completely, but it wasn't like every day you had spent with him was one where blood was spilled.
It was only the really bad days that were like that.
Was Uvogin even still alive? That was something else that you thought about. The stress at the thought of him finding you was constant, but if you could have some sort of confirmation that he was dead, it would mean that all of stress could taken off of your mind. Maybe you wouldn't even need to keep living here and go back to the way your life had been before Uvo decided to mess it up for you.
It seemed like a long shot that he'd be dead, though. Especially when you remembered what he was capable of. You had too many memories of the way he could crumple up metal in his bare hands, or how he could take hits that would have demolished a normal person. Hell, not even bullets could do anything to him. So what the hell could even kill a man like him?
You sighed.
It'd be nice to imagine that he'd given up on you, at the very least. That you running and hiding away for so long had caused him to lose interest in you and that he'd shifted his obsessive focus to someone else. A thought that made you feel bad for that hypothetical third party, but it would technically be good for you.
….. What an awful thought to have.
You groaned as you pushed your face into the pillow.
It wasn't fair how he consumed your mind. It wasn't fair how you had this same internal dialogue every morning. It wasn't fair that he was always somewhere at the back of your head from the moment you woke up to the time you went to sleep. It wasn't fair that even in your dreams you weren't free of him.
Why did he need to pick you?
It was useless asking that question – you'd never get an answer for it. Not one that you'd be satisfied with, anyway.
Glancing up again at the time, you found it to be 2:16 AM.
Work was in four hours and you couldn't get back to sleep.
5:35 AM
You winced the second you stepped out the door, the cold air of the outside biting at your exposed skin without mercy. Unfortunately, as much as you wanted to barricade yourself in your apartment until the weather was better, you had to get to work.
And it wasn't like things would get any warmer; the days in Mowbray were freezing all year long.
Being located in one of the coldest areas in the world tended to do that; the town was surrounded on all sides by an icy tundra, a completely barren and snow covered land where nothing was able to grow. The harsh weather conditions meant that for the majority of the year, the main way in or out of Mowbray was by airship. There weren't any roads that connected the town to the outside world, and the vehicles that were capable of getting across the rough landscape were generally reserved for true emergencies. So the only visitors that the town would get that came by land were unusually determined people – Hunters, generally – and they only came into town during the summer months. The rest of the year no one dared venture out into that wasteland for fear of dying and being forever lost, buried beneath the snow.
With conditions like that, there weren't many people living there. The town's total population was just below the three thousand mark, and with a lack of anything one could do at Mowbray, it was a rare occurrence to get many out of town visitors. They usually ranged from relatives of other residents to the aforementioned Hunters, either coming in for a social call or for a job of some kind.
For the people who lived in the town year-round, the majority of them were those who had been born here and were happy with the way their lives were. Things here were simple and quiet, and very few had any desire to leave the life that kept them separated from the rest of the world. Some people moved to the town later in life in search of that peace, finding the way that the world worked outside was too overwhelming. Sometimes those in the latter group decided a few months in that it wasn't worth it and left, but a majority of that group was happy to stay.
And then there were the people whose sole purpose in coming to the town in was order to hide. Like you did.
You weren't the only one, as there were several who lived in the units around yours that raised suspicion. Like the old man who lived across from you with the long-healed burn marks on his hands that he tried to keep hidden. Or the younger woman who lived in a different building who you occasionally saw staring at a photo from a locket around her neck whenever she stepped outside to smoke. And then there was the tenant below you looked to be around your age and was constantly on alert as they always looked around them whenever they went outside, as if they feared they were being followed.
You speculated on what their stories were, what exactly had brought them to a place like this. And you could assume that they did the same with you: watching you pass them by while they quietly wondered what in the world had made you come here of all places.
Those weren't stories that would ever be shared as it was better to keep such things quiet.
As you trudged out into the snow so you could start your shift at the grocery store, you were annoyed with yourself that your thoughts once more went to Uvogin, and you subconsciously pushed the scarf around your face just a bit higher.
At least with living here, it was considered normal to cover up half of your face when you went outside.
5:59 AM
Only the faintest hints of the sunrise were beginning to color the sky when you entered the store and began to set everything up for the new workday. Turning on the lights, checking the shelves to see if any stock was out of place and making sure everything was clean before you unlocked the front doors to officially open the place. You had a routine in place that you followed religiously as you were desperate not to disappoint your boss, an elderly woman named Helena. She owned the place, and she was nice enough to give you a job despite the large gap in your work history, nor did she question you on why you had come to the town in the first place. She had always been warm to you, treating you as though you were one of her own. So after such a sweet old woman had taken a chance on you, you were determined to show her judgment hadn't been misplaced.
Helena had never doubted you, although that sentiment didn't seem to be rubbing off on the other long-time residents of the town.
The bell above the door chimed twenty minutes after the store had opened, and you called out a greeting. There was a mumbled reply in return, and then two sets of footsteps walked further into the store. As you anticipated that whoever had entered likely wouldn't be around long, you took your place at the register so as to be ready for them.
You then overheard part of their conversation.
“What'd you think is making them so antsy?” one man's voice asked.
“Dunno. Could be weather,” a different man answered.
“The weather? Do the dogs get that nervous over that?” the first one questioned.
“Sometimes. Could be that we're in for a bad storm.”
There was a brief period of silence before the second voice continued to say “then again, it could be something else completely.”
“Like what?”
The second man sounded slightly exasperated as he answered “I dunno. We'll have to see what happens.”
The first man seemed to take the hint to stop asking as nothing more was said.
Based on the conversation, you had a good idea as to the identity for at least one of the men, and as the two rounded the corner of the aisle, you found that you were correct in assuming one of them was Marlow, an older man who kept sled dogs. The man who was accompanying him was slightly younger, and you were pretty sure his name was Hugh. Both were carrying drinks and pre-made sandwiches, and they set them down on the counter in front of you.
You began to ring the items up as you asked “find everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
The response you got from Marlow was curt, the exasperation still present in his tone. He wasn't in a good mood.
A shame. You wanted to ask about his dogs, especially with what you had overheard moments ago. But it was better not to as you knew it was likely he would snap at you if you annoyed him too much.
Maybe when he was in a better mood you could ask if his dogs were alright.
They paid quickly once you had finished scanning the items, taking the jenny you'd given them in change and leaving the store to go to their jobs in the oil fields. You and Hugh made eye contact just before they left, and you smiled as you told him to have a good rest of his day.
He looked uncomfortable as he gave a brief nod in response before vanishing out the door, the bell above the entrance ringing out loudly.
It was a little sad that a majority of the townsfolk didn't like you. Most of them merely tolerated your presence while they looked at you with suspicion, not trusting you for a moment.
Helena told you that people would open up eventually. That you just needed to be around for a while before the close-knit community would be willing to let you in. Just be patient and it'll happen someday.
9:03 AM
The front door bell ringing out followed by a “hello there!” brought you out from the back area as you greeted your boss, who seemed happy as she headed towards you.
“How busy has it been so far?” Helena asked.
“It's been pretty slow,” you answered.
She nodded as she removed her scarf, saying “sounds normal for a Thursday.”
“Yep.”
You then remembered the conversation you'd overheard this morning, and you mentioned “I heard someone saying we might be in for bad weather, though, so it could pick up.”
“Really? Who said that?”
“Marlow. I heard him saying that his dogs were nervous.”
“Well, animals do have better senses than us, so they would be the first to know if something was off,” she said.
Helena pulled her coat off as she said “if we are in for some bad weather, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make sure we're fully stocked out front, just in case.”
You nodded, saying “sure. I can get started on that.”
She laughed.
“Not now. Do it when you get back from your break. You look like you could use one,” she said.
“Oh. Okay.”
She was hanging her coat up in the back when you asked “do I look that tired?”
“It's noticeable,” she told you, “did you not get a lot of sleep last night?”
“Not really,” you answered, “I woke up a bit too early this morning and I couldn't get back to sleep.”
You noticed the way her brows furrowed when you said that and you quickly added “it's fine, though. I'll just go to bed early tonight.”
She didn't seem completely convinced, but Helena nodded slowly as she replied “as long as you're sure. But don't be afraid to ask if you need to head home early.”
“I'll be okay. But thank you.”
She let you go after that, and you sat down in a small break room while you did as she had told you, taking out a drink you had packed from your locker.
Now that you weren't keeping busy with work, your mind went back to Uvogin.
It'd be nice if you could talk to someone about it, you thought to yourself. Helena had told you that you could talk to her about anything, and you wondered if she sensed that you were hiding something from her. It'd be nice to let out everything that had happened to you, who had taken you and why you were hiding here.
But doing that felt selfish. Did you really want to destroy an old woman's peace of mind by letting her know that there was a chance a man who happened to be mass murderer who was also obsessed with you might come here one day? And would she still be nice to you once she learned everything?
It was better to keep it to yourself.
11:00 AM
A new shipment of goods arrived only a few minutes ago, and Helena had left you in charge of the front while she made sure everything was in order. Doing as your boss had told you, you made sure to put out the stock on the shelves wherever there was room. Currently you were restocking some of the shelves of soup that had already been running a bit low.
The bell above the front door rang out while you were kneeling by the shelf, and as you grabbed another can from the box next to you, you called out “welcome! Let me know if you need anything.”
There wasn't any response to your greeting, but you didn't pay much mind to it. You only made a mental note to keep an eye on the checkout counter so you wouldn't leave whoever it was waiting.
Though they didn't say anything, you heard them walk off the mat in front of the door as their footsteps sounded on the hard tiles of the floor. Those same footsteps walked over to the refrigerated section on the other side of the wall, and the hum that came from that section grew louder when one of the doors were opened.
At that point you didn't pay much attention to the other person, your mind going back to the task at hand while you continued to fill up the empty spaces on the shelves in front of you.
You needed to do some shopping of your own when your shift ended, you remembered. The contents of your pantry were starting to run low, and if the weather was going to be taking a turn for the worse, you didn't want to be stranded in your apartment without a decent supply of food.
With that thought in mind, you decided to leave one of the soup cans in the box so you could buy it for yourself later. That was at least one perk to working in a grocery store, and as minor as it was, you smiled to yourself.
The shadow of a person suddenly overtook the end of the aisle that led to the door. Still in the middle of restocking, you placed another can on the shelf as you instinctively looked over to the new presence that you sensed.
You froze.
You stayed in place, looking at the person who was now standing before you and you wondered if this was reality or another bad dream. The shudder that ran down your spine and the feel of the cold floor against your knees confirmed that this wasn't in your head – this was real.
Uvogin was here.
Standing at the end of the aisle.
Staring directly at you.
You stared back, unable to say or do anything, as for a moment, your mind stayed blank.
Then your mind began to race as you were forced to come to terms with your worst-case scenario that was playing out before you: he had found you. You were face to face with the man you had run from, the entire reason you had come to this town in the first place in the hopes that you would never see him again.
But now he was here, right in front of you.
All that time, all that effort had been for nothing. All of it was made meaningless the instant he laid eyes on you. The only thing that was guaranteed from this point out was that you were going to suffer for it, because there was little doubt that he was angry with you.
Your heart began to race and you felt like you were having trouble breathing. But you didn't look away from him.
He hadn't said anything.
What would happen now?
You had imagined him finding you at the store before this. In the times this awful scenario played out in your head, Uvogin would always grab you, toss you over his shoulder and carry you outside, regardless of if you were dressed for the weather or not. You doubted that he wanted you dead, but he wasn't against having you suffer if he felt you deserved it. Would he actually do what you'd imagined for so long? Or would he use threats to get you to drop what you were doing and make you go with him willingly?
Whatever he would do, he would act immediately. That was what you had believed.
Yet Uvogin wasn't saying anything. He was still standing there, his gaze boring holes into you while his mouth was pressed into a hard line. Meanwhile, you couldn't say anything. You were barely able to breathe at the moment, let alone try to get any words out.
A brief bit of hope made your heart skip – maybe he didn't realize it was you?
That hope was quashed within moments as you realized what a dumb thought that was. There was no chance that he didn't recognize you – Uvogin wasn't stupid. Whatever changes you had made to your appearance wouldn't have fooled him into thinking that you were another person, and definitely not after he'd spent so long staring at you. The way he was looking at you now meant that he definitely knew it was you. Trying to act like you were a simple shop worker and nothing more would probably only make him more angry.
Don't make this any worse for yourself
You said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move.
Helena and the deliveryman were still in the back, and no one had come in after Uvogin. It was only the two of you in the store at the moment; a perfect opportunity for him to grab you and take off. Maybe there would be people around outside to see the two of you, but even if they did witness your kidnapping, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
Though seeing someone being taken against their will would spur most to action. That thought made you shudder. You really hoped none of them were suicidal enough to try and stop Uvogin. Those were deaths that you didn't want on your conscience. It would be better to beg for their lives now. Promise that you'll do everything he says just as long as he didn't hurt any of the residents of the small town and that the only one he should punish is you. You were at fault for what happened, not them.
You licked your dry lips as you prepared to speak.
Uvogin beat you to it.
Motioning over to the register with his head, he said to you “you gonna ring me up or what?”
He held a six pack of beer in one hand that he lifted up slightly while he said that. Somehow you'd managed to miss that before.
You needed to run his sentence over in your head a few times before you understood.
“Oh…. Okay.”
You kept an eye on him as you made your way to the register, anticipating the moment when he would roughly grab you and take you away from this place.
Yet he didn't do anything other than keep an eye on you as well, and when you made it behind the counter, he dropped the six pack in front of you. You couldn't help but flinch at the loud sound it made when it landed.
You looked at him and then back to the beer. Still no move on his part to grab you.
He…. He really wanted you to ring him up?
With only a single item to scan, the price of the item plus the sales tax added up to the total he owed, which flashed on a small screen in front of him. Upon seeing that, Uvogin frowned.
“Stuff is a lot more expensive here,” he commented.
That time you managed to get out something that resembled a coherent sentence, though you couldn't bring yourself to speak loudly.
“Just about everything comes in by airship,” you mumbled, “flying supplies is automatically expensive.”
Uvogin scoffed.
“So this place is in the middle of an empty wasteland, cold as fuck and you need to pay twice as much for a thing of beer? Seems like a shitty town to me.”
“….. The quiet is nice,” you said.
“Yeah, I'm sure the fact that this place is quiet is why you came here,” he answered sarcastically.
“…. Part of it.”
“Sure.”
You could hear Helena speaking to the deliveryman in the back. As nice as she was, she had a bad habit of chatting with people for just a bit too long.
It was just as well. If she came out and saw how you were right now, she'd assume that Uvogin had done something to you and demand that he leave or threaten to call the police. Depending on his mood, Uvo would respond in one of two ways: laugh it off if he was feeling good or kill her if he was annoyed.
She couldn't save you from him. No one in this town could.
And none of them deserved to die because of you.
Uvogin hadn't taken the beer nor payed for it, and you stood behind the counter, your hands folded in front of you while you waited for what was to come next.
When nothing happened, you chose to break the silence.
“What happens now?” you asked quietly.
“That all depends on what you do,” he answered.
“…. Are you going to kill anyone?”
“That depends on what you do,” Uvogin repeated, “there is a scenario where no one gets hurt and they all live on happily, but whether or not we go that route relies completely on where you choose to go from here.”
Uvogin crossed his arms as he asked, “so, you gonna give me any problems?”
You shook your head.
“Good. Now, where do you live?”
You kept your head low as you answered “Lerch apartments. It's a set of blue buildings.”
“What unit?”
“17E. On the second floor”
Uvo held out his hand as he ordered “give me your keys.”
You complied, reaching down to get the key ring in your pocket and taking off the one that unlocked your front door. He snatched it out of your hand when you held it out for him, and it quickly vanished into the pocket of his jacket.
“Do I need to be worried about any roommates?” Uvo asked.
“No. I live alone.”
“What about nosy neighbors?”
“They shouldn't bother you. The people there tend to keep to themselves.”
Uvogin nodded, then looked to the clock on the wall behind you.
“When do you get off?” he asked.
“Uh, in about an hour and a half.”
“Hm. Alright,” said Uvogin, “finish up your shift and we'll talk more when you get back.”
“Finish up?” you asked. That seemed strange to you, that he'd let you go about business as usual and let you finish your shift at your job. Hadn't the fact that you'd run away bothered him? Didn't he want to leave with you as soon as possible?
“Yeah, it'll look less suspicious that way,” he replied, “unless you wanna get off early.”
You shook your head.
He smirked as he said “I figured. You would rather try to delay the inevitable, wouldn't you?”
“N-no, it's not that. It's Helena. She's older. She needs help,” you said.
“She looked fine to me, but whatever,” he said, shrugging as he added “use her as an excuse if that's what you want.”
It wasn't completely an excuse. She did need help with some of the heavier lifting.
“I'm not using her as an excuse. She's been good to me and I want to help her out,” you told him.
He shrugged again as he reiterated “whatever. As long as you show up in ninety minutes.”
You nodded.
An hour and a half. That was all you had left of this little life you'd made for yourself up here. After that, you would return to what your life had been with Uvogin. Following him around like a pet as he journeyed to wherever he pleased, going with his whims to find whatever interested him most. You had no say in any of it, and if you kicked up too much of a fuss, he'd respond with some sort of violence.
What would he do to you for running?
“Anything else I should know about?” he asked.
“I don't think so.”
“Alright then. I'll be heading off.”
“But before I do that,” he added, “there's something you need to do for me first.”
You immediately became nervous as you asked “what?”
He smirked as he pointed to the cans of beer that were still sitting in front of you on the counter.
“Cover this for me,” he said.
You stared at him for a moment before looking back down to the beer. And after double-checking the amount that was owed, you let out a quiet sigh as you got out your wallet, putting your money into the register and getting out the change.
All this time and he still refused to carry cash.
“Gimme the receipt,” he told you.
You didn't question why he wanted it and just did as he said, printing it out and holding it for him to take.
But when you thought he was reaching for it, he instead grabbed you by the arm to pull you forward, causing the edge of the counter to dig into your stomach while he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear.
“By this point, we both know that you're prone to doing stupid shit,” Uvogin whispered, “and while you won't get very far with this weather, it'll be annoying to hunt you down in that tundra. But if you decide to do that anyway, just know that I'll level this entire fucking town before I go and get you.”
You could sense the grin on his face as he continued with “I'll probably start with grandma back there. Maybe splatter her brains across the walls before I move on to whoever's closest.”
“Please don't do that,” you whispered.
“Then don't run off.”
With that, he let go of your arm, took the receipt that you were still holding, and grabbed the case of beer as he began to head towards the front door.
Before he left, he looked back at you one last time.
He was grinning at you, but there was a look in his eyes that betrayed how he was truly feeling.
You were wrong about what you'd been thinking earlier.
He was angry.
Uvogin was angry at the lengths you'd gone to try and escape him. And now he'd be sitting at your apartment for an hour and a half, stewing in his emotions and becoming angrier and angrier until you got back.
A full body shudder ran through you at the thought of that.
Silently, you walked away from the counter and returned to the box of soup, settling yourself down on the floor before placing the last of the cans on the shelf. The box was empty when you were done, and as you got up slowly and collected the empty cardboard off from the floor, another shudder ran through you at the thought of what he'd be like when you returned to your apartment.
You should've just gone with him.
12:33 PM
The blue building looked foreboding as you approached it, the place that you had called home for so long now feeling like anything but. The dread of what awaited you in that apartment had long since settled in, and every step you took through the snow felt even more weighted down than normal. Yet you tried to keep your pace quick. You told him ninety minutes. That was how long he would be willing to wait before he went through with his threat.
Uvogin would absolutely go through with what he'd told you. He'd likely be even more inclined to destroy the town because of the remote location. Even if someone managed to get to a phone or a radio before Uvogin got to them, it would take hours before rescuers would arrive, and by that point, survivors would be an impossibility.
It was the first time you had considered that scenario, and you felt stupid for it. You had been so desperate for a place that was away from the rest of society that you didn't think about anything else.
But it wouldn't happen. You weren't going to let it. Ninety minutes later and you were returning, just as you'd promised.
Though not without some minor incident. After Uvogin left, Helena had noticed how far your mood had dropped and she'd asked you what was wrong. Unable to tell her the truth, you lied to her and told her that everything was fine. But even with your insistence that everything was fine, she didn't seem to believe you, even if she eventually let it go.
You wished you could've said goodbye to her. A proper farewell to someone who had been so kind, as there was no chance that you would ever see her again. Or anyone here. Helena and all of your neighbors would all become memories of a different time. And you would vanish from their lives without much of a trace. Would any of them wonder about what happened to you? Helena would – she would definitely worry over you, and you already felt guilty for that, for the stress you had yet to put that sweet woman under. Whether the others would care enough to bother worrying wasn't as clear.
You shouldn't be so worried about them, the selfish part of you said. After all, they weren't the ones that needed to deal with Uvogin. You did.
And a different line of thought began to run through your head once again as you made your way up the stairs.
What was Uvo going to do to you?
…. Nothing good, that was certain.
You stopped yourself before you could go any further. It was better not to think about it. Just let it happen so you can get through this faster.
The faster he's finished punishing you, the faster the whole ordeal is over with.
Reaching the door to your unit, muscle memory kicked in for a moment as you reached for you bag with the intent of pulling out your key before you remembered that you'd given it to Uvogin. Still, you tried the knob anyway.
It turned out that he'd left it unlocked as the door opened easily.
You didn't waste any time getting inside, quickly and loudly shutting the door behind you. There. He knew you were back now, like you promised.
Maybe that was enough to put him in a better mood.
Pulling yourself away from the door, you turned and walked in, finding that snow had already been tracked onto the carpet; Uvo hadn't bothered to remove his boots before he barged in. Clearly there was no point in doing so in his mind. You wouldn't be staying here anymore, so who cared if things got messed up?
You found him sitting back against your cheap couch, one foot propped up on your coffee table with a can of beer in hand. There were already two empty cans on the floor next to him. The rest of the room was in a messy state, and when you glanced towards your bedroom, you saw your things had been strewn about. He'd been going through your stuff while he waited for you.
Uvogin smirked once he saw you.
“I'm glad you chose not to be stupid,” he said.
You gave a short nod.
Uvogin pulled the can of beer away from his lips, one of his eyebrows arching up in question as he looked at you.
“What, got nothin' to say?” he asked.
“I don't know what you want me to say,” you answered.
“No? How about 'sorry I put you through all of this bullshit'? That might be a good place to start.”
“… Will me saying that I'm sorry change anything?”
“Nah.”
He pulled his foot off of the table so he could sit up fully, telling you “but after the way I needed to track you down, the least you can do is grovel for me.”
You looked down at your feet, finding it hard to maintain the eye contact he was giving you, and you mumbled out an “I'm sorry.”
“Hmm. Not sure that's good enough.”
A full body flinch ran through you when you heard him stand up, and every part of you wanted to run back to the door of your unit, to try and get away from him. Your hands started to sweat as he approached you and you were scared. You were so scared of what was going to happen from this point.
You made yourself stay in place by repeating in your head that running would only make things worse.
He was on you in moments, and you were reunited with that sensation of how small and weak you felt whenever he towered over you. How easily he could break you if he wanted. How easily he had broken you, snapping your bones whenever you had gone too far for him to laugh off whatever line you had crossed, and that was usually followed by him telling you that it wasn't that bad. You falling asleep while you cried in his arms was an occurrence that was far too common, and only ever served to make you feel even more pathetic. That even after he'd been the one to hurt you, you accepted the comfort he so patronizingly offered you, and the reason why he did so seemed to simply be because it amused him.
Before you met Uvogin, you hadn't thought of yourself as being weak, and during your time away from him, you felt as though you were gaining back some of the independence and confidence you had lost. All it took for those illusions to come crumbling to pieces was a few minutes in his presence once again.
Something violent would follow, you told yourself. Maybe he'd hit you, or maybe the way you were avoiding eye contact would annoy him enough that he'd yank you up by the hair and make you look at him.
Yet the violence you expected didn't come. Instead, he placed his hand on your cheek, his warm skin coming into contact with yours that was still chilled from the bitter cold outside. You stiffened.
What was he doing?
“You wanna try again?” he asked.
Uvogin's tone contrasted the almost gentle touch on your cheek. It held more than a hint of warning – there was a promise that things would be awful for you if you didn't do what he wanted.
You cleared your throat before you spoke again.
“I'm sorry, Uvogin,” you said.
“Yeah? What for?”
“For making you come out here to get me.”
“And?”
“For…. For running from you in the first place.”
“Anything else?”
…. What else was there to say?
“I'm just sorry in general,” you mumbled.
He hummed again, the hand that had been softly caressing your cheek stilling once he heard that.
“Sorry in general,” he repeated, “that's it?”
It was probably the wrong move, but you nodded.
Uvogin hummed again before he made you look back up at him. Surprisingly, he didn't seem too angry. If anything, the look on his face resembled that of disappointment.
“You make loving you really hard sometimes, you know that?”
“Loving me?” you repeated.
“Yeah, loving you,” Uvo said, raising an eyebrow as he asked “why are you questioning that?”
“…. It doesn't feel like you love me,” you answered.
“Why else would I come out here and chase you down?” Uvogin asked.
“Because you're controlling and you don't want to see me get away from you.”
He hummed, shrugging as he said “well, you're right on the second part.”
Somehow, despite the terror you felt of being in his presence once again, you managed to scoff at that. A horribly dumb mistake, as Uvogin's hand on your cheek stilled and he zeroed in on you.
“Got something to say?” he asked.
“….. No.”
“Oh, come on. Tell me the truth,” Uvo said. When you refused to respond, he tsked.
“This is why we have issues, babe. Because you refuse to open up like you should.”
“…. You say that like the issue isn't the fact that you hurt me,” you answered.
“If I treat you rough it's because you're the one who chooses to act out,” he replied, “I've been plenty good to you; the only reason the bad outweighs the good is because you keep fighting me.”
“And you sure haven't helped yourself with this stunt,” Uvo added, “but if being the bad guy means keeping you by my side where you're supposed to be, I'll be the fucking bad guy.”
The air around you suddenly felt a lot more dangerous. Your lip began to wobble while you trembled in his hold. Tears began to well up in your eyes, which Uvogin noticed immediately.
“Starting the waterworks already?” he asked, his tone mocking while he smirked at you.
That was it. The sight of him looking down at you like that was what finally made your composure snap, and useless words began to spill out of your mouth as you clutched at his jacket.
“Uvogin, please – let me go,” you began, “I can't go back to that life you live. Watching you do horrible things to innocent people – I can't do that anymore. I can't stand it. Please just let me stay here. I won't ever leave this place and I won't bother you ever again. I won't say anything to anyone about you or the troupe. Just leave me here.”
Uvogin said nothing, but judging by his expression, he wasn't at all impressed by your speech.
You pushed further.
“Uvo, please. This is what would be the best for both of us. If you really cared about me-”
The next thing you knew, you were on the floor. The side of your head that laid directly on the hard surface was aching, and there was a stinging pain in your opposite cheek as well as on your lip. You reached up to gingerly touch your face with your gloved hand, wincing as the pain worsened when you did so. Running a finger lightly over your lip, when you pulled your hand back, you saw a smearing of blood on the fabric.
It finally registered what exactly had caused that pain, the feeling of a palm against your face that struck you so hard your brain rattled about inside your head.
He hit you.
You finally got him mad enough that he hit you.
You should've expected it – no, you had expected it, and yet it still managed to come as a surprise.
Uvogin's boot roughly connected with your shoulder, and you cried out as you were forced onto your back. The only good thing was that he didn't pin you down like that, pulling his foot away from you after.
He was speaking.
“The cold air must've gotten to your brain, babe. You really think I would just leave you after I found you?” he asked, “that after everything, I'm just gonna say 'sure' and leave you behind in this wasteland? You really fucking think that there's some scenario where you're not coming out of this place with me?”
You felt the blood coming from the gash in your lip, dripping into your gaping mouth and bringing with it the taste of iron. Tears began to flow freely as you brought your hand back up to your mouth in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding.
Uvogin knelt down next to you, saying “I didn't hit you that hard; you'll be fine.”
That statement was horribly familiar. The way he shrugged off your injuries and making it clear that he felt you were overreacting. A single hit from him could kill the average person, but you mattered enough that he would control his strength because he didn't want you dead.
Uvogin scratched at the back of his head as he added “I have to ask, though: what the fuck you were expecting when you say shit like that?”
You didn't reply. Anything you said was likely to make him hurt you more.
After a few painfully silent moments where Uvogin watched you while you began to sob, he got up without saying another word, leaving you where you lay on the floor. You followed him with your eyes, watching until he disappeared into the kitchen, and a few moments after that, you heard the sounds of him opening and closing your cabinets and drawers before he found what he was looking for.
Uvogin returned, settling down next to you and pulling you off of the floor. You protested, feeling the ache in your head becoming worse from how he moved you. He ended up pulling you into his lap, holding a dish towel up against your busted lip.
“Use this before you bleed all over the place,” he told you, encouraging you to take the towel.
When you did as he said and you clutched the fabric up to your face, Uvo kept one hand on your back, rubbing up and down in a manner that was soothing.
Already you were back in that routine. Where he'd hurt you and then follow it up by making a show of kindness, as minimal as it was. And already you were accepting it by leaning into his touch.
Because what else were you going to do?
Uvo's voice cut through your thoughts as he said “we're gonna leave soon. I've got your bag packed, but if there's anything I didn't put in that you wanna keep, now's the time to take care of that.”
You didn't respond. And when you curled in on yourself in his lap while you tried to stifle his sobs, Uvogin didn't say anything further.
1:09 PM
You wished you could've watched as you left the town, as today was the last time you would ever see it.
Technically, you could've done that. But the coward in you feared what Uvo might do to you if he saw that. While you knew that the hit at the apartment was only the beginning and wouldn't compare to whatever punishment was awaiting you once you left the area, it was better not to test his patience and make him angrier with you.
You'd made him plenty angry by now.
At least your lip had stopped bleeding, and instead of clutching the dish towel to your face, you held on tight to the backpack Uvogin had packed for you while you sat in the passenger seat of the heavy duty off-road vehicle he had brought you to once you left the apartment. You didn't recognize it, and it seemed to be doing well enough on the area around Mowbray. He'd stolen it, no doubt, getting the vehicle so he could avoid anyone who would see you two if you left by airship.
Doing it this way was faster, too. Uvo likely had a schedule in his head that he wanted to keep to.
If you making him wait ninety minutes had caused a delay in that schedule, you'd probably end up paying for that, too.
There hadn't been any further violent incidents because you didn't give him any reason to respond in that way. Once he decided that it was time to go he pulled you off of his lap and told you to collect your things, you did as he said, quietly following behind him once he left the apartment.
Uvogin didn't seem quite as angry anymore. And as he drove you further and further away from the small town, he started talking again.
“Anybody there gonna kick up a fuss when they find out you're gone?” he asked.
“… I don't think so,” you said, “my boss will probably be worried, but I don't think she'll be able to do much.”
“You talking about that old woman?”
You nodded.
A terrible thought then occurred to you, and you felt compelled to say “I didn't tell her anything about you. She doesn't know anything beyond that I moved there for a change of pace. She's not a threat.”
Uvogin laughed.
“Relax. If I was worried about that, I would've gotten rid of her before we headed off. And even if you did tell her everything, what the hell is she gonna do about it?” he asked.
Hearing that was bittersweet. It did nothing to make your situation any better, but at least Helena wouldn't suffer because of you.
At least there was that to be grateful for.
Outside the vehicle, it was clear; not even the wind was making any effort to batter at the car. You idly thought how it definitely wasn't bad weather that had been bothering Marlow's dogs.
Another thought: it would've been nice to see them again.
“You gonna miss this place?” Uvogin asked.
“I don't know.”
He laughed a little.
“What, you went out of your way to come here and you didn't even like it?” he asked.
“I was trying to hide,” you began, “and it was away from the rest of society and seemed like a good place to lay low.”
You sighed as you said “but I was never able to escape you, even before you found me.”
You heard the confusion in his voice when he asked “what does that mean?”
Before you could wonder on if you should answer that question, you spoke.
“I thought about you a lot,” you admitted, “every day from when I woke up until I fell asleep, I was wondering how you were doing. You were constantly on my mind and I couldn't help it.”
There was silence after you said that. A silence that lasted longer than you would've expected. And now you were left to wonder if saying that had been a mistake and if you were going to pay for that as well.
It felt like it was impossible for you to stop from screwing up.
Then you heard him chuckle to himself.
….. Why was he laughing?
“I'm really happy to hear that,” Uvogin said.
“…. You're happy?”
“Yeah.”
He then reached over with his hand and tapped against your head as he added “because if you're worrying about me while you're away from me, that means there's some part of you in there that knows you're supposed to be with me. If you really hated me, why would you bother expending that mental energy, right?”
His hand settled on your shoulder, and when you didn't respond he began to squeeze as he asked again “right?”
“… Yeah,” you whispered.
Uvo's grip lessened and he patted you on the shoulder, saying “you should listen to that part of you more often. Then we can avoid shit like this.”
“Okay.”
He patted you again at your soft spoken response before he pulled away, and when you glanced up at him, you noted that he looked pleased with himself.
Today had been a good day for Uvogin. Even though he'd needed to go to extreme lengths to find you, he ultimately did just that and was now on his way back with his reclaimed prize. For him, things were going to go back to the way they were supposed to.
For you, it had been less than eleven hours since the simple life you made for yourself was destroyed with no chance of you ever reclaiming it. The chance that you would be able to escape Uvogin again was next to nothing as he would be sure not to slip up again when it came to you. Your busted lip still hurt, but it would heal up. As would the other wounds that would come as a consequence for your escape.
He would be there for you while you healed, offering those soft touches and kisses while he wiped away your tears. And you would accept them, all the while knowing that every minute you spent in his hold, internally you were breaking more and more.
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