#looks like i’m going to have to watch some of his films too

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[poisonlove]

Break up | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

It was a cold and foggy day in Romania, the gray sky seemingly merging perfectly with the gloomy and surreal atmosphere surrounding the set of Wednesday, Tim Burton's new project. I was walking down the corridor leading to the lounge, nervously clutching my jacket around me. The damp and biting air seemed to penetrate to the bone, but the tension inside me was even more oppressive. It had been three months since I last saw Jenna. Between my commitment to a horror film set in Los Angeles and Jenna’s long days of filming, our lives had intertwined in a chaos of distance and frenzy. That’s why I had decided to surprise my girlfriend.

"Hey." I nervously smiled at Emma, while her blue eyes sparkled with amusement, noticing my agitation.

"Jenna’s in there," she said with a smirk, pointing me toward the direction that would lead me to my girlfriend.

I nodded in understanding and made my way to the door that led to the lounge. The room was large but relatively quiet: a coffee machine in one corner of the room, a table, chairs, and a sofa at the other end. A few staff members were bustling around with cameras and props, my eyes searching for the one I loved and admired so much.

There she was.

Jenna was sitting on the sofa, her usual headphones around her ears, allowing her to isolate herself from the world while flipping through what looked like a script. I approached her, my heart pounding, and positioned myself in front of her. Her brown eyes slowly scanned my figure, so slowly that I could feel my heartbeat increase by the second. When her eyes met mine, I sighed and gave a spontaneous smile.

"Hi," I said with a small smile on my lips.

Jenna took off her headphones and left them around her neck.

She blinked in surprise. "I wasn’t expecting this," she murmured timidly, making me frown in confusion.

She got up from the sofa and gave me a quick hug, but it felt so strange and forced. "Is everything okay?" I asked nervously, a strange feeling creeping into my gut.

Jenna took a step back and looked at me without blinking, a small smile on her lips. "Yes... I’m just tired," she replied, her gaze drifting off into space. "This project is draining me."

I nodded, trying to smile in a way that would ease the tension. "I understand, maybe we can spend some time together afterward... you know, watch a movie or something."

"I don’t know, I have a cello lesson," she said calmly, her tired eyes meeting mine. Huge dark circles underlined the sleepless nights she had been through.

"Dinner, maybe?" I asked hopefully.

Jenna nodded timidly, but there was no enthusiasm on her face, only acknowledgment. I placed my hands on her waist and leaned in to capture her lips with mine. The kiss was mechanical. Her lips, once soft and warm, were now cold and distant.

Something was wrong.

"Jenna, can we talk?" I asked in concern. Something was off, and I needed answers.

She sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall, frowning. "Break’s almost over, I have to get back to the set."

Frustration started to build.

"It won’t take long, I promise," I insisted. I felt my voice tremble, but I couldn’t let this slip away without an explanation.

I took Jenna’s hand and led her toward the exit of the lounge. The biting cold hit my face immediately, making me feel the chill down to my bones. Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shield herself from the icy wind as her eyes watched me with a mix of anticipation and frustration. She quickly glanced around, almost cautiously, making sure no one was nearby before turning her attention back to me.

"What’s going on, Jenna?" My voice was a whisper, my fear too evident. I couldn’t ignore this distance between us.

She looked at me for a long moment, her expression impassive as if she were trying to find the right words. Finally, she sighed loudly. "Nothing, I’m just tired from work."

"Jenna..." I started, immediately picking up on her lie.

"Really, it’s nothing," she said with a smile.

"It’s not true," I insisted, the anger of being deceived taking over. "I know you, Jenna. Please, tell me what’s going on," I pleaded with a small voice, fear growing in my chest.

A tense silence settled between us, and my nervousness grew with each passing second. Jenna lowered her gaze, then raised it again with a look full of unease, as if a secret torment was consuming her. "I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I want... We... we’ve been moving too fast," she finally admitted, her voice faltering with hesitation.

The realization hit me.

"What? Are you trying to say that..." I started, tears threatening to spill at any moment. No, it couldn’t be true. All the months spent together, the video calls, the kisses... Everything made sense.

Jenna looked at me with guilt.

"I..." she began, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, and the awareness of what was about to happen hit me like a punch to the stomach.

"I’m exhausted, y/n," she admitted.

I quickly shook my head, unable to accept her words. "We can make it, Jenna. We can do it together," I suggested nervously, unwilling to give up so easily.

Jenna shook her head, making me feel an intense pain in my chest. "No, y/n. The distance, the work, all of this is hurting me," she confessed.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It’s over between us," she murmured.

The world collapsed around me. There was nothing left to do; Jenna had already made her decision. I looked at her in pain, tears running down my cheeks as she gazed at me with sadness, the pain visible on her face.

"I’m sorry..." she added in a broken voice.

I bit my lower lip, trying to stifle a sob, and bowed my head, hiding my emotions. My heart was shattered, and a feeling of emptiness dominated my stomach. It was over. I turned my back and walked away from the set, the awareness that Jenna had left me dominating my thoughts.

Don’t turn back. Don’t turn back. Don’t go to her to try to change her mind. Don’t look into her eyes.

Don’t do anything.

Just move forward, even though the world had fallen apart.

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

going insane over the fact that happiness and care and concern and love is underneath every interaction between newt and hermann in pacific rim

[roanofarcc]

A LITTLE LIFE

pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader

summary. when a storm tyler is chasing changes course, putting you and your daughter in the direct line of danger, tyler drops everything to reach you. 

warnings. established relationship, descriptions of injuries, reader gets hurt, angst w/happy ending.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

You watched as Tyler slung his overnight bag over his shoulder and patted his pockets to ensure he had everything he needed for his latest storm-chasing adventure. 

“Are you sure you have everything? Did you pack your charger? Because-” Your husband cut you off with a gentle chuckle. 

“It was the first thing I packed,” he said. The one time he had let his phone die while on a chase nearly sent you into cardiac arrest. He hadn’t sent you his usual indication that the chase went well and he and the rest of the Wranglers were just fine. You were in a fit of panic until Lily called you with words of reassurance and a promise to scold Tyler for his forgetfulness. Since then, you always bugged him to ensure he had his charger and that he used it. 

But he had gotten a lot better about checking in since you had your little girl. The reckless Wrangler pumped the breaks just slightly, calling every night he was away to hear the little baby babble before he fell asleep. He’d taken a rather long break from chasing when she was born, but you knew he missed it dearly. And while you’d miss him, he promised to keep his trips to a couple days tops and he’d come home the second you felt overwhelmed or needed help, no matter the size of the storm they were after. 

You were nervous to let him go, but you always had been. Yet, Tyler’s love for the dangerous weather wasn’t something you wanted to stand in the way of. He was doing what he loved, with the people he loved even more. You were proud of him and his friends for sticking to their guns and doing everything they could to help the people affected by the storms. 

Tyler moved to stand in front of you and your little girl, who you held on your hip. She was all smiles as Tyler kissed her cheeks. “You keep an eye on your momma for me this weekend, okay? She’s a handful.” 

You playful rolled your eyes. “Right, because I’m the one who refuses to sleep at bedtime.” That had been an ongoing battle. Your little girl liked to stay awake all night and nap off and on through the day, leaving you and Tyler on the backward schedule too. 

Tyler pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling away too soon for your liking. He looked unsure of himself, eyes flickering between you and your daughter. “You sure you’re gonna be all right?” he asked, for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. He always checked before he left, over and over again just in case you changed your mind, but you never did. 

You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling in reassurance. “I promise,” you said. 

He nodded, kissing you once more as he muttered, “I love you,” against your lips. 

“I love you too.” 

With your baby’s backward sleep schedule, you had managed to put her to sleep by mid-afternoon. She slept soundly in her crib, and you collapsed on the couch with a tired sigh. The TV droned on, playing some old sitcom that you’ve seen a million times, lulling you to sleep slowly before it overtook you completely. 

The gentle breeze swept in through the open windows, filling your home with a springtime sweetness you thought would remain throughout the weekend, sprinkled with a few rain showers throughout. But as you slept, the pretty blue skies started to shift, changing into something much more sinister. 

The storm was glorious. Tyler’s veins were filled with adrenaline as they followed the twister down an empty backroad, watching as it gained speed. Boone stayed steady filming it, hollering in excitement the whole time. They didn’t get a chance to catch their breath until the tornado was choked out, dissipating before their eyes like it had never been there at all, but leaving behind a clear path of destruction across the open plains. 

The weekend was supposed to host a slew of storms just north of Tyler’s home, and he and his team felt pretty good about their luck based on the first tornado they caught. Maybe it was a little superstitious, but they often used the first storm they chased as a baseline for how lucky they’d be during that outbreak. 

Meeting back up with the rest of the Wranglers, Tyler watched the sky with his hands on his hips, his mind split between the storms and you. Even though he had been chasing since your daughter was born, he was still a little hesitant, especially considering how much of a hassle it was to get her to sleep through the night, but you were just as supportive and wonderful as ever. His responsibility to you and your daughter was his first priority, but his responsibility to the Wrangles was second. 

“We got another big one brewin’ southeast,” Dexter said, eyes glued to the radar. Peering over his shoulder, Lily watched it too. The fixed small smile on her lips faltered before her brows furrowed. She patted Dexter’s shoulder to get him to step aside from the device. 

Tyler could tell she was thinking hard about something, her lip pulled between her teeth and shoulders rolling back. 

“Lily,” Tyler said. “What is it?” 

“It’s heading right for town.” 

Boone’s face pinched in confusion. “What town?” 

All Lily had to do was look at Tyler before he felt a cold twist of dread overtake his body. The storm was heading straight for you. 

You were exhausted. So much so that you didn’t wake up until a loud crash jolted you out of your slumber. You shot up from the couch with a gasp, heartbeat quick in your chest. The curtains that framed the open windows whipped around wildly as a harsh wind blew through screen. It pushed over the vase of flowers that were resting on the end table in front of the window, leaving broken glass and water strewn across the floor. 

You hurried over to the window, only to be assaulted by the violent wind and rain that seemed to be coming down sideways. Cursing under your breath, you went around the living room, closing the windows and blocking out the loud howl that rose goosebumps on your skin. 

Thunder rumbled loudly, rattling the house and waking up the baby. You hurried down the hall, scooping up your daughter with her woven pink blanket. As you tried to calm her down, the sirens rang out with a fury. 

Tornadoes were as common in spring as rain, but your nerves never vanished whenever the sirens sounded. You had been lucky, always just out of the direct path of the storm resulting only in a fallen tree or ruined patio furniture, but nothing too damning. Yet, you never wanted to take your chances, try to outsmart the force of nature by testing your luck. And you had another person to be responsible for. So, you grabbed the diaper bag hanging on the back of the closet and started toward the basement. 

It was half-finished, but home to an emergency stock of supplies if worse ever came to worse during tornado season. Usually, you stayed calm during storms, either reassured by Tyler or able to talk yourself out of any worry as the storm passed by without too much rocking of the house. But Tyler wasn’t there, and it was your first big storm with the baby. 

Panic welled in your chest, pushing against your ribs as you sat on the old cot set up in the far corner of the basement, beside the shelf of food, water, and a radio. Your baby girl had stopped crying, lulled by you gently rocking her. Flipping on the radio, you listened as the weather overhead worsened. The weatherman only confirmed your fears when he listed your county as being right in the path of the increasingly powerful tornado. 

With one hand, you fumbled around in your pockets, in search of your phone, only to realize you had plugged it in not long after Tyler left. It remained upstairs. You heard the howl of wind increase and you knew you’d missed your window to safely venture upstairs. Instead, you were stuck, huddled in the corner of the basement silently praying your luck hadn’t run out and the storm would switch its path or disappear before it reached your home. 

But your luck seemed to have run out. 

Tyler was sure he’d never been so terrified of a storm before. Normally, he found the beauty in them, but he also had seen their destruction firsthand. It was always devastating to see people’s homes flattened and watch them in a desperate scramble to find their missing loved ones in the rubble. That was why they put their money towards helping those people; it wasn’t much, but it was the only way he knew how to help. 

It was a different kind of heartbreak when the devastation plagued a familiar place. As soon as he turned down the little gravel road that led to his neighborhood, he felt violently ill. It was like a swift punch in the gut, nearly causing him to double over at the wheel. The homes he had memorized along the street were gone, old trees completely uprooted, and cars overturned and totaled. 

“Oh my God,” Lily muttered from the backseat, bringing Tyler slightly out of his increasing panic. He didn’t know what he expected, based on the damage leading down the road toward your guys’ home, but nothing prepared him for seeing his little house in ruins. His mind didn’t even register what was happening until he abandoned his truck, running across what used to be the front yard. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered, unable to say much of anything else as he climbed over the rubble of the house. His chest felt impossibly tight, like his heart had been flattened alongside the homes, because his heart wasn’t in his chest anymore, not really. His heart was with you and your little girl; he’d given it away to you long ago and then again when he held his daughter for the very first time.

And neither one of you were anywhere to be seen. 

The Wranglers started to yell your name before Tyler found his voice and joined them. He peeled through the debris, numb to the pain in his hands as they cut against the mangled pieces of what once was a house. With each second that passed that he couldn't see you or hear you, his whole world seemed to darken around him. 

In the very back of his mind, he held a worry of something happening to him while he was chasing; he was as careful as he could be, making sure to only get into situations he could get himself and his team out of, but he never had considered he’d one day he at risk of losing you. 

Tyler had never considered having a little family of his own until he met you. He’d never felt so at home with a person since you crash-landed into his life. And after you two married, and you told him you were pregnant, he was faced with a brighter future than he’d ever imagined for himself. The idea that he may have lost it so suddenly was excruciating. 

“I got ‘em!” Boone yelled above the blood rushing in Tyler’s ears. Boone was on the other side of what used to be the house, grasping a bloodied hand that poked out of the rubble. “I need some help over here!” 

Tyler sprinted across the yard, as did the rest of the Wrangles. Lily, Dexter, and Dani ripped back the pile of debris while Boone and Tyler pulled on your hand, helping you out of the basement. You landed on your knees, one hand still clutching Tyler’s while your other was holding onto the baby. 

A cry of relief left Tyler’s lips as he fell to the ground in front of you. Your hand wasn’t the only thing that was bloodied, it ran down the side of your face and stained the sleeve of your shirt. 

“Baby,” he muttered, carefully grasping the sides of your face to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a little unfocused, red-rimmed, and watery. He wiped some of the blood off of your cheek, causing you to wince in pain. “Are you okay?” Clearly, you weren’t, but he needed to know if there was more damage than the cuts and bruises. Your eyes instantly fell onto the baby in your arm, panic taking hold of your features. 

“I-I don’t know,” you cried. You pulled back the blanket slightly from your daughter’s face, and there were a couple drops of blood smeared across her delicate skin. “I don’t know,-” Your voice caught in your throat, resulting in a shaky sob. 

Carefully, Tyler took the baby, who looked up at him with a quiet contentness, despite the chaos. She babbled quietly, reaching up toward him. He let her wrap her little hand around his fingers and quickly looked her over for any injuries. When he wiped the blood away, he quickly realized it was yours, not hers, which made him both feel relief and panic at the same time. 

“There’s EMTs comin’ in now. I’ll grab one!” Dani said before she took off down the road where the sirens wailed. 

Boone kneeled beside Tyler, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Do you want me to take the kid to get checked out while you wait here, with her?” Tyler nodded, passing off the baby to Boone, who smiled kindly down at her and started talking nonsense in the way that always made the little girl smile. 

Tyler’s full focus was on you as your shock started to wear off. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt, struggling to breathe as you tried to speak. “I fell asleep,” you choked out. “S-She went down for a nap, and I fell asleep. I didn’t…” A sputtered breath fell from your lips as Tyler held you close, hand placed firmly on the back of your head and the other rubbing something circled across your back. 

“It’s all right,” he whispered against the side of your head that wasn’t cut. “You’re okay.” 

You buried your head into his chest, sagging against him. “I’m sorry,” you said between hiccups. 

Confusion flushed Tyler. “What in the world are you sorry for?” He was the one who was sorry. He knew tornados were unpredictable, that was all a part of their nature. But he felt like he should have known the storm was coming for you, even if it was something completely out of his control. You had done everyone right; he left you alone. 

You didn’t answer, though. Instead, you squeezed your eyes closed just as Dani led an EMT back to where you two sat in the front yard. Not too far, Tyler could see Boone holding onto your baby girl while she was looked over too. By the little smile on her lips when Boone made a funny face, Tyler knew she was okay, and that was all thanks to you. 

You had to spend a couple of hours in the hospital, getting a couple stitches and diagnosed with a minor concussion. Other than that, both you and your daughter were okay. 

Since your guys' home was torn apart, the three of you posted up in one of the nicer motels just outside of town. You lounged on the bed, smiling softly as you watched Tyler and your daughter engage in a riveting conversation of nonsensical words and babbles that almost sounded like words. He felt your gaze and met it from his position at the end of the bed. 

The bumps and bruises would fade, and homes could be rebuilt; the most important thing was that all three of you were okay. Your little family, something you only wanted to protect, was still standing strong. 

Tyler scooped the baby girl up in his arms before he moved it sit right beside you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he did the same to your daughter. You rested your head on his shoulder, brushing a gentle finger across the little girl’s chubby cheeks. 

“We’re okay,” you whispered, like a reminder to yourself. 

Tyler wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close before he repeated, “We’re okay.”

[coryosbaby]

—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ !

Mike Shmidt x fem! Reader

♡ Content Warning . oral, somno, rimming, pnv, breeding, marking, degradation and praise, dom! Mike

Mike Schmidt who lays in between your parted thighs on his day off. His hands settle on either side of your hips, and his nose presses against your cunt. And although you’re so needy for it, needy for him, he just… lays there. Your scent surrounds his senses, filling him up and making him happy. Just laying there smelling you gets his cock so hard but he’s so tired that he doesn’t want to do anything.

Mike Schmidt who will always give in to your whiny begs for his mouth after a few moments. Soon his tongue is parting your folds and he’s licking you to his heart’s content. Whimpers leave his lips as his lips slurp up your slick, his sleepy doe eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

Mike Schmidt who spends as much money as he can on you. Not even getting mad when you “accidentally” go over his spending limit. You begin to cry when he asks you, but he just coos softly as he holds your hand.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad at you if you tell me the truth, okay?” And then, shortly after, as he’s unbuckling his pants, “You can make it up to me, gorgeous.”

Mike Schmidt who facefucks his gorgeous, dumb baby— aka, you. He makes sure to grab extra tight onto your hair and thrust himself messily into your tight little throat. His balls slap against your chin and he makes so many noises as he uses you. This is supposed to be a punishment, so he makes you get off on the nearest object instead of his cock.

Mike Schmidt who coos at you, pouting mockingly as he sees you rub your swollen clit against his work shoe.

“Aww, baby. Do you need to cum?”

Your eager nodding makes him chuckle, and he yanks you further down onto his cock until your nose is pressed against the brown hair at his base, pressing his shoe harder onto your pussy.

“That’s too bad. This is your punishment, sweetie, remember? Be a good slut and cum just like that.”

Mike Shmidt who, days later, has you clinging onto him as he holds you up with his strong arms. A camera in front of him, filming the entire thing, as his cock jackhammers into your sweet cunt. Groaning, whispering, “fuck, good girl, taking my dick so good, look at you, yes, baby, yes.”

Mike Shmidt who slams you against the nearest wall, cock still inside you, tip abusing your cervix over and over as he increases his pace. Using his teeth to leave an incredibly prominent bite mark on your that draws blood.

Mike Shmidt who cums inside you, moaning and saying that he’s gonna fuck a baby into you. He fills you up until you’re overflowing and then some, making sure to shove it back in with his fingers afterwards. He wants you to be a mommy so badly, and he’s going to make sure that it takes.

Mike Shmidt who timidly asks for a rim job one night. His cheeks redden as he asks the question, his pretty doe eyes avoiding your gaze.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He states shyly. The once dominant boy has now become incredibly shaken, but you just smile at him and excitedly agree.

Mike Shmidt who’s riding your face a few minutes later, hole clenching up on your tongue. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but at the same hes got this growling tone in his voice as he praises you. It seems that his dominant side has come back.

Mike Shmidt who groans from above you, working his cock and balls with his own hand.

“You’re so filthy, baby. Fuck, your tongue feels so good.”

“My sweet little angel, doin’ so good f’me.”

Mike Shmidt who’s puffy ring of muscle clenches as he finally shoots warm cum all over the bed, overstimulating himself and demanding that you lick all of seed up as he gets his dick up again watching you.

Mike Shmidt who loves to keep a pair of your lace panties wrapped around his car mirror. He lied to Abby and said that it was a scarf you had given him.

Mike Schmidt who fucks you during one of his shifts— he had a hard day, so he demands that you come and see him. He forces your legs apart and bends you over the security desk, and spanks your ass raw to relieve some of his anger.

Mike Shmidt who lets you play with him when he’s asleep. His dreams go away when you wrap your mouth around his soft cock and choke on him with sweet, sleepy tears rolling down your cheeks. When he wakes up, he praises you for taking care of him.

“Oh, baby. So needy, so good f’me.”

“That’s it, good girl, choke on it— no, no, honey don’t try to pull off. You wanted this cock, so I’m gonna give it to you, okay?”

“So beautiful. C’mere, let me taste that cute pussy.”

Mike Schmidt holding you after a hard day. Knowing you need a distraction, he lets you grind against his thigh as a way to relieve so stress. He presses you to him and leaves small marks against your neck.

“Just think about me, okay? Think about my hands, my mouth…”

“Awww, sweetheart. I know, I know. Life’s been so hard lately, hasn’t it? But that’s okay. Mikey’s here, baby. Gonna make it aaaaall better.”

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[neos127]

enhypen hyung line x gn!reader | #youtube!!

different types of videos you make with the boys genre. hcs, non idol au, established relationship for some & fluff!! wc. 1.2k cw. just some cursing

heeseung

“he has no idea what he’s doing.” you giggled with every word, watching as you boyfriend’s eyebrows furrowed with each makeup product he pulled out of your bag. being a popular makeup youtube channel, you wanted to try something new.

you had seen many girls have their boyfriend do their makeup and with a grin more sly than a cheshire cat, you quickly called up your man with a video idea.

heeseung was more than happy to film a video with you (mostly to show your one million subscribers how much he loved you). heeseung had seen the way male fans talked about you on twitter, he was excited to finally show everyone that you were his.

“why do you have so many lip products?” he asked, his expression showing that he was clearly baffled. heeseung made you giggle quite often, but you really couldn’t contain the laughter constantly spilling from your mouth.

“you can add some highlighter now, hee.” you spoke up once you had finally calmed down. heeseung nodded, grateful for a hint on what to do next. he rummaged through the makeup bag, happy once he found a small round container that said ‘highlighter’. he picked it up eagerly, the quickness of his fingers trying to wrap around the item caused him to accidentally drop it.

you gasped as the highlighter cracked and spilled onto the ground, looking up at heeseung who looked extremely guilty. his round doe eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape as he observed the small mess on the floor.

“i’m so sorry…” he mumbled, dramatically covering his mouth in shock. you began to laugh once more, finding your boyfriend’s reaction to be adorable.

comments:

y/nloveees — they are so cute omg!!

angelbabie — heeseung loves y/n so much you can just tell

strawberryshortcake — pls bring heeseung back for more vids!!

jay

“you sure this recipe doesn’t call for cutting anything?” jay asked, observing your blindfolded face with an amused expression. the two of you decided to film a video on jay’s account shortly after publicly announcing your relationship. he often did cooking videos and you had suggested doing a blindfolded cooking challenge with him.

“ok hand me the apples.” you said after getting through the first part of making the pie. jay tried to keep his giggles to a minimum, observing the mess that was supposed to be apple pie.

he placed a bowl of previously cut slices in front of you, watching as you fumbled around the bowl and pick up a piece.

“ugh, i should’ve cut them more…it’s too big.” you sighed, reaching out for jay to ask if he could cut them again for you. but while reaching out for him, you accidentally smacked the man in the face, causing you both to go into a fit of laughter. you apologized multiple times, lifting your blindfold up so you could finally see your boyfriend.

you grabbed jay’s face, placing a light kiss below his eyes where you accidentally scratched him. jay blushed at the affection, already knowing that he was going to keep the small moment in the video.

comments:

jayjayparks — aw y/n is so cute!!

0x1lovesongs — jay being so worried for her the whole time…my heart

givenxtakennn — CUTE!! y/n kissing jay’s ‘injury’ and him blushing oh im giggling

jake

“remember, don’t curse.” you warned the man sitting next to you, already giggling at the idea of joining voice chat in roblox. jake nodded, pretending to zip his mouth shut as the game loaded. you and jake were popular for playing games, mostly streaming on twitch but you often posted on youtube because you liked vlogging. you decided that playing roblox with jake would be a fun video idea, especially since your subscribers liked you two together after he appeared in a ‘day in my life’ video.

“why is this dude following me.” jake whined as soon as the game had fully loaded. he moved your character around, trying to run away from the random player who decided to terrorize him.

“your voice is weird.” the player replied, sounding as if he couldn’t be any older than thirteen. jake’s jaw dropped while you began laughing hysterically, smacking the boy on his hoodie clad arm.

“go do your homework.” jake shot back, trying to move away from the player once more.

“go do my mom.” the kid replied, a very obvious young boy remark but you ended up giggling anyways. especially since jake seemed so offended.

“what the fuck.” jake laughed, making you gasp and slap a hand over his mouth.

“i said no cursing!” you scolded him, waiting for a few seconds to see if you two would be banned from the game. when nothing popped up, you both breathed a sigh of relief.

“sorry that was my bad—” jake spoke up, stoping his sentence short when a pop up appeared on the screen. your profile had been banned for using voice chat for a few minutes.

“jake!” you groaned dramatically, slumping onto his shoulder. jake began to laugh, leaning his head on yours.

“i’m sorryyyyy y/nnnnnn.”

comments:

ikeuismz — the chemistry…can i be y/n??

angelluv — this video was chaotic until the end I NEED MORE

10monthsluv — ouuuu the flirting…

sunghoon

being very popular on youtube for your traveling vlogs and ‘a day in my life’ videos, you wanted to introduce your boyfriend in one of them. you had mentioned to your followers that you were starting university in korea but never mentioned that you also had a boyfriend of one year that you were excited to see again.

sunghoon was a very private person and at first didn’t want to show his face in your videos. you respected his privacy, blurring his face out when the two of you hung out together with friends whenever you happened to be in seoul. but upon your recent visit, sunghoon agreed to be in your video, wanting to show off his relationship with you to the world.

“so…you guys don’t know this but…i actually have a boyfriend here that i’m meeting up with today. he’s a private person so he didn’t want to be shown on camera before but today he finally decided to say ‘hi’ to you guys.” you explained to your camera as you approached sunghoon’s apartment.

when you knocked on the door sunghoon’s roommate, jake, answered. he gave you a hug and welcomed you back before telling you that sunghoon was in his room.

after reuniting with your boyfriend and hugging him tightly for about ten minutes, you turned your camera back on.

“this is sunghoon, everyone! we met about three years ago when i first visited korea and we’ve been together for over a year now.” you introduced the boy, watching as he shyly smiled and waved at the screen.

the idea of over a million of your subscribers seeing his face was a bit scary, but sunghoon was ready for show the world that he was your boyfriend. seeing men hit on you in your comments irked him a bit— he just had to show them who your heart belonged to.

“he’s a little shy so please show him lots of love.” you giggled, cupping his chin.

“we’re going to eat now…guys. so come with us as we…do that.” sunghoon said awkwardly, sending the camera a thumbs up and tight lipped smile. you began to laugh at the cute boy which caused him to laugh as well, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

“you heard hoon, let’s go eat.”

comments:

sweetxvenom — SO CUTE!! i need more of y/n and sunghoon!

sweety/n — aw he’s so shy how cute :(

lovelysky — you look so happy with him i’m so happy for you!!

taglist; @boyfhee @junityy @aenify @iilwji @catzisb1og (ask to be added!)

[lewisvinga]

the designer vs. the model | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; fans begged and begged fashion icon and designer y/n to help charles out, luckily for him, she gave him the girlfriend effect

fc; jennie kim

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested !

masterlist !

liked by yourbestfriend, and others

yourusername: cannes film festival; the design, before & after 🎀

username: AN ICON

username: i knew she’d eat this gala up😩

yourbestfriend: my beautiful talented best friendddd😻

yourusername: hehe love u xx

username: her talent needs to be studied

username: pls style charles_leclerc he needs help

username: studying fashion to be just like y/n!

username: y/n we need your talent on the f1 grid specifically in the ferrari garage specifically charles_leclerc

username: heyyy girl, u gonna need to share your styling talents w a certain monegasque 😁

username: oh i just know she’d give charles the girlfriend effect

username: STYLE CHARLES_LECLERC

yourusername: whaaaa ö

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and others !

charles_leclerc: new profession: photographer

username: omg y/n liked!

username: we bullied him into only wearing sweatshirts and jeans omg 😭😭

username: thats what he gets for his horrendous style…

pierregasly: imagine you as a photographer 😂

charles_leclerc: hey! i’m not too bad!

username: yourusername pls help this poor man , he has very poor fashion taste🙏

username: ok this fit isn’t too bad, plain! but not that bad!

username: yourusername mother pls help father out

yourusername: i think the people want me to style you , haha !

charles_leclerc: my style can’t be that bad, no?

yourusername: it could use some improvement…

charles_leclerc: well, i’m open for suggestions!

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; don’t worry ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make sure he has a good wardrobe 😇!] [caption 2; designing n making some new pieces for his closet 😵‍💫]

charles_leclerc uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the forced smile after i showed her some outfit ideas…] [caption 2; her real smile after i got her a latte for being patient w my poor fashion skills😁

liked by yourusername, carlossainz5, and others !

charles_leclerc: photo dump , but do you notice any new fashion improvements ? 😁

yourusername: much better than those horrendous blue and white pants …

charles_leclerc: they weren’t that bad

yourusername: cha…… they were horrid

username: wait…. he fr looks good

yourusername: he’s got a pretty face but thats just enhanced by the better fashion sense!😁

charles_leclerc: u think i’m pretty?😊

yourusername: ur my prettiest model

username: OH HELLO

username: hes 100% dating y/n bc thats an improvement from that horrid blue outfit 😭

username: muy buenos días y que vivan los hombres 😍 [very good morning and long live men]

username: his style is improving, everyone cheered!

username: the sigh of relief i just let out

carlossainz55: mate, you have everyone relieved from your new fashion improvements 🤣

charles_leclerc: and i can see why after i looked at my old outfits…

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: the designer vs. the model 🌸

tagged; charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: where would my closet be w/o you, chérie…

yourusername: unfortunately, seen in the public

charles_leclerc: my favorite and the most prettiest designer ❤️

yourusername: you’re my favorite and the most prettiest model 💞

username: oh my goodness gracious me

username: STOPP THEYRE SO CUTE😖😖

username: she got him a good pair of glasses thank u queen y/n

username: them at the basketball game together 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username: we’re abt to get the best charles outfits thank u y/n😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

yourbestfriend: watch your back sharl she was mine first

charles_leclerc: womp womp she’s mine now

yourusername: ladies, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around ( btw yourbestfriend come over asap i need to do another fitting on u )

[teapartyprincess4two]

omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request^^

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.

☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”

☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.

☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.

☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”

☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.

☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”

☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.

☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”

☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.

☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.

☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.

☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.

☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.

☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.

☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.

☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.

☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”

☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”

☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.

☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.

☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”

☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.

☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.

☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.

☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.

☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.

☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”

☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.

☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.

☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.

☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.

☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.

☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.

☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.

☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.

☆ NSFW

☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.

☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.

☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.

☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”

☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.

☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.

☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.

☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.

☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”

☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.

☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.

☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.

☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)

Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!

Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋

Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[afterglowsainz]

peace | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x singer!reader

summary: you have always been more famous than daniel and he was fine with that, until his career started going downhill

fc: taylor swift

warning: angst, mclaren daniel, mentions of crashing, some mean comments towards daniel

a/n: i changed a few lyrics from one of taylor’s songs (invisible string) just to make it make sense in the context (i'm not a songwriter so is not the best) also no hate to mclaren daniel! with the summary i do not mean at all that his career is ruined, is just for the dramatics

—

liked by danielricciardo, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourusername old habits die hard 🎻🍂

view all comments

username mother back in the studiooo

username if this is not a new album y/n istg (liked by yourusername)

username SCREAMING CRYING FALLING TO MY KNEES AT WALMART

username serving face while recording

username i don’t know what vibes this is giving but it’s givingggg

username ofc i’m not getting my hopes up over a possible new album! ofc not!

username more happy songs about her and danny 😁

username WE CHEER

liked by f1gossip and others

motorsportcom 🚩RED FLAG DEPLOYED🚩FP2 session has been paused after Ricciardo hits the wall during corner 7. It’s still unclear if practice will resume.

view all comments

username this 😁 again 😁

username someone send him back to red bull 🙄

username well well are we surprised

username no way i stayed up late to watch this only for it to be suspended

username washed

username ugh perfect! just what he needed

username someone is doing witchcraft on this guy because there’s no way he’s this unlucky

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

danielricciardo these past four years by your side have been the best of my life and i can’t wait for many more to come. happy anniversary love of my life, forever my y/n❤️‍🩹

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username STOP IT they’re too cute 😭

username that last pic might be the best photo i’ve ever seen

username no because they’re so perfect togetheeer

yourusername i love you❤️

danielricciardo ❤️

username she’s everything!

username and he’s there!

username who needs a job when your girlfriend looks like THAT 😮‍💨

liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and others

ynupdates y/n y/l/n won the ‘video of the year’ award at the vmas. on her speech she thanked the fans, her friends, her boyfriend daniel and she hinted some new music coming soon!

view all comments

username literally speechless at her look

username what did she say on her speech about daniel i’ve been looking for it but i can’t find it

username not verbatim cause i don’t remember exactly but it was something along the lines of “thank you for being the first one to listen to all my ideas and encourage me to dream about things bigger than myself and for being my muse in every sense of the word”

username she’s just killing it lately i’m obsessed! 💕

username congrats y/n! very well deserved award

username prettiest woman ever like look at that face

username she served too much cunt i’m afraid

liked by lilymhe, danielricciardo and others

yourusername surprise you! my new single ‘invisible string’ is coming out tonight (and we filmed a video for it) 🪩

view all comments

username my favourite animal is me when y/n releases music

username INVISIBLE STRING THEORY???

username oh she ate with this one

bffusername on loop forever and ever

yourusername 💗

username this sound is so different … i love it!

username if this invisible string is not about her relationship with danny i-😩

danielricciardo going feral at that mv actually

yourusername 🤭

username DANIEL RICCIARDO CAN YOU FIGHT

liked by f1gossip and others

motorsportcom a red flag has been deployed after daniel ricciardo crashed in qualifying🚩session has been cancelled and the drivers will start the grid on sunday with the lap times the were able to achieve during the first three minutes of Q3

view all comments

username thank you ricciardo we all say in unison 🙄

username bro’s collecting red flags like pokemons

username someone bathe this man in palo santo or smth 😭

username you just gotta laugh at this point

username mate is sooo not getting a seat next year

username is a bit funny to see him struggle this much and then you look at his girlfriend and she’s in the most successful point of her career

username he sacrificed his own luck for his gf’s how romantic

liked by lewishamilton, mclaren and others

danielricciardo not my brightest weekend but there’s always opportunity to be better. excited for the next 🔜

view all comments

username “not my brightest weekend” my guy it hasn’t been your brightest SEASON

username “there’s always opportunity to be better” you’ve had like 30 ???

username he’s being delulu but honestly i respect it

username okay but how can you hate a face like that

username mate isn’t smiling anymore something is wrong 😭

username something has been wrong for a while…

username i actually think is time to think about retirement

username get that bag king!

username guys, and y/n??.

liked by f1wags, lilyzneimer and others

entertainmenttonight y/n y/l/n and daniel ricciardo break up after four years of dating

view all comments

username NOOOOOO

username if i don’t see it is not real

username refusing to believe this

username WHAT.

username this sent me (a victorian child) into a comma

username now why would you post this😭

username i actually don’t believe in love anymore

username 💔💔💔

username WDYM they JUST celebrated their anniversary ???

username this is my villain origin story

liked by lilyzneimer, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourusername so … good news! i’ll be releasing my brand new album “folklore” tonight at midnight 🪩 this is an album i’ve been working on for the past year and that i poured my whole soul into. it was supposed to release a bit earlier, but we thought it wasn’t truly finished until now. i love you guys too much 🤍

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username OMG

username our prayers have been heard

username so i’m thinking she was going to release this before the breakup but when it happened she maybe wrote breakup songs and that’s why she pushed the release date

username GIRL

alexandrasaintmleux can’t wait! 💗 (liked by yourusername)

username album of the year already

oliviarodrigo and we all cheer in unison 🥳 (liked by yourusername)

sabrinacarpenter already bought the wine and the tissues (liked by yourusername)

gracieabrams no you don’t get it this is so special to me (liked by yourusername)

username all of y/n’s daughters in the comments 😭

username sabrina girl what do you know? 🤨

username lowkey miss daniel’s comments hyping her up :(

username no bc i’m so ready to know what happened between them

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danielricciardo tbt to the first race weekend with mclaren 🧡

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username okay sir i see you

username the only weekend where we were happy

username bro trying to distract us from the breakup by posting his smile

username my guy i just listen “peace” are you okay ???

username you’re stronger than me for listening till peace i wanted to k word myself after “the 1” and i’m not daniel

username the 1 was criminaaal

username exile …

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ynupdates y/n y/l/n last night on saturday night live singing her new song “peace” from her brand new album “folklore”. she algo sang her hit single “invisible string”

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username i cried with that performance

username she was singing that song with such sadness

username you’re telling me she was ready to marry daniel (and give him a child) and now they’re just not together anymore ???

username i gasped when i heard that line

username daniel will pay for his crimes istg

username he’s paying already 😭

username “would it be enough if i could never give you peace?” it was, in fact, not enough

username STOP YOURE DEPRESSING ME

username sorry i’m mourning this relationship too 😔

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danielricciardo if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

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[withahappyrefrain]

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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

@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

[iateyourparents]

red kisses | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: you got a new lipstick and you just had to prank your boyfriend with it.

warnings: nothing really, just bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language).

an: i got this idea from tik tok but i unfortunately couldn’t find this girl:((

pictures are from pinterest:)

You got a new lipstick. But not any lipstick, it was a color changing lipstick.

At first it was in neutral color and then after few minutes it was starting to get red and redder until it was bloody red.

So of course you had to use this on your lovely boyfriend.

You already pranked him with normal red lipstick and he wasn’t mad but well, now he was making sure you doesn’t have red lipstick on when you kissed him before he was supposed to go out.

Currently Jake was in shower so you quickly took your phone deciding to share this prank with your viewers on instagram later. You recorded a quick intro telling them about your purchase and plan.

Then when you heard that water stopped running you pretended that you still were on the couch with your phone.

„Hi baby.” Jake smiled at you and sat next to you.

„Hi love.” you also smiled at him opening your arms and he gladly laid half of his body on yours and snuggled into you.

You stayed like that a few minutes.

“Go dry your hair babe, we don’t want you to get sick and you have to go in few minutes.” you reminded him. He was supposed to be out with Johnnie in thirty minutes so that was perfect opportunity for your prank.

Jake sighed but did what you said and went to bathroom to use dryer.

„Baby, can you do my hair?” you heard Jake asking.

„Sure.”

Few minutes later he was sitting on the floor in front of you with you brushing his hair. You styled it the way you knew he liked and then he was almost ready to go.

„I’ll go change. I’ll miss you.” he pouted and you giggled quietly kissing the top of his head.

„I’ll miss you too but i’m not sure if Johnnie will be happy with that reasoning.”

„Stupid Johnnie.” you heard Jake muttering under his breath and you only shook your head with small smile while he was getting up from the floor.

He went to yours room and you quickly started recording on your phone and you put on your new lipstick. As you expected, it was almost clear like a lipgloss. You quickly hid your phone and not five seconds after you were done with hiding, Jake was back from the bedroom in new clothes.

You acted like you were taking something from a cabinet in kitchen.

„I have to go.” you didn’t have to look at him to know he had a pout on his lips.

You smiled at him and opened your arms and he quickly ran to you and was snuggling into you.

Few seconds later he took his hands from your back to grab your waist and lift you onto the kitchen counter.

You giggled and took his face in your hands and kissed his lips, he gladly deepened kiss.

When you disconnected your lips you also left kiss on his left cheek and side of his neck. You made sure to press your lips a little harder to leave a lipstick in those places.

„Don’t keep Johnnie waiting.” you lightly patted his ass and he smiled at you.

“I’ll be back soon.” he promised at kissed your forehead and then nose “Bye love.”

“Bye baby, have fun!” you waved at him and he got out.

You took your phone from its hiding spot and you stopped recording.

You waited few minutes and then updated your video with how your lips and places Jake kissed were almost bloody red.

You waited for some message from Jake about your prank but got nothing so you waited for him to be back home.

Finally, some time later when you were watching a film you heard a keys jiggle on the other side of the door so you quickly started recording and pointed phone camera on the door.

Jake came in with wide smile and red lips shaped spot remaining on his neck, but the ones from lips and cheek were gone.

“So I noticed your prank.” he accused pointing his finger at you “How the hell it appeared after I was out?”

You laughed and explained “I bought color changing lipstick.”

He gasped and came to sit next to you.

“I was so shocked when Johnnie told me about lipstick stains because you had no lipstick on.” he pouted and you giggled, but then he smiled widely and pointed at the kiss on his neck “I kept this one and I think I should make a tattoo like this one with your kiss.”

You smiled at him because well, he for sure looked good with this kiss.

“You definitely should.” you nodded and stopped recording to start kissing him and he gladly accepted this.

“But be careful.” he warned when you disconnected your lips “I’ll have my revenge!” he laughed mischievously and you only nodded with small smile.

“Sure love.” and you were back to kissing him.

[moonstruckme]

hi i love your blog! could you write poly!marauders where james is away on a business trip and everyone is moping because they miss him

Hi, I love you! Thanks for requesting :)

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 863 words

You feel a bit guilty resting your head on Sirius' shoulder while longing for another. But you reason that it’s not so bad if the one you’re longing for is Sirius’ boyfriend, too. And you like to think that if it were James’ warm, cushiony shoulder you were leaning against, you’d be missing Sirius instead. 

“How was everyone’s day?” you ask. 

Remus turns to give you a peculiar look. “It was fine. We talked about this already, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I just feel like we’re not usually so quiet during the commercial breaks.” 

“Well, our yapper’s gone,” Sirius says sulkily. 

“James does usually start the conversation,” admits Remus. “But we don’t need him to talk, yeah?” 

“Right.” You nod, sitting up with what you hope looks like conviction. “Sirius, you can yap just as well as James can.” 

“Yeah, but I need him to get me going.” Your boyfriend sighs heavily. “He’d probably ask something like ‘If we were all in a circus, what would our roles be?’ and I can’t come up with shit like that.”

“No, that’s great!” You try to sound peppy. “Um, okay. Sirius would probably be a trapeze artist, right?” 

Remus nods. “And I could see you being a tightrope walker.” 

You both look to Sirius for his analysis, but he looks unimpressed. Still, he plays along. “Rem would be one of those blokes who eat fire, likely.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh. 

See, you can have fun! This is fun, right? But then your film comes back on, and you all lapse into silence again. 

“James would’ve never let us watch this,” you say after a few minutes. “He’d have made us pick a comedy or something.” 

“And he would’ve been right,” Sirius agrees. “This is fucking bleak.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Remus says, making you and Sirius exchange a look. For as much as James loves Remus, he’s most often the victim of his film vetoes. Remus’ taste is bleak. 

It’s another few minutes before an actress on-screen says a line, and Remus clears his throat awkwardly. 

“That’s what she said.” 

You and Sirius look at him with a mixture of befuddlement and alarm. 

“What?” He shifts in his seat. “I’m trying to fill a gap.” 

Sirius appears scandalized. “James’ jokes are far more advanced than that.” 

“He said ‘that’s what she said’ just last week.” 

“Yes, but in a completely different context!” 

“We could call him,” you point out. 

Remus’ expression creases longingly. “No, he’s been in meetings all day. I’m sure he’ll want to rest.” 

But Sirius clicks the speaker button on his phone, letting the dial tone play aloud. Remus looks almost relieved. 

James picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“Hi,” you all say loudly, voices each trying to be heard over the others. 

“We need you to come home,” Sirius whines. 

“What?” James sounds closer to the speaker now, like he’s holding the phone tight to his face. “Is everything okay?” 

“Don’t say that,” Remus hisses at Sirius. “Everything’s fine, Jamie.” 

“We just miss you,” you clarify. 

“Oh.” The relief is obvious in your boyfriend’s voice, and you notice your other two boyfriends smiling fondly at the sound of it. You think your own expression probably looks just about as humiliatingly smitten. “Awe. I miss you guys, too. Like crazy, you have no idea.” 

“I think we have some.” Sirius raises a brow at the phone. “Rem just tried to make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke.” 

A sharp cough crackles through the speaker. “Did he? How did it go?” 

“Poorly.” 

“Ah, well.” You can practically feel the warmth of James’ smile from hundreds of miles away. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll work on it when I get back.” 

“I’d rather not do it again, actually,” Remus grumbles. 

“How was your day?” You lean on Sirius’ shoulder again, getting close to the phone like James is contained within it. 

“Boring,” he says emphatically. “I got told off by some old woman for tapping my pen on my pad too loudly while someone was giving a presentation. The hotel they’ve put us up in isn’t bad, though. Free breakfast in the morning to get us energized for another day or torment.” 

“Ooh, could you see if they have those little blueberry muffins?” Sirius asks. “And if they do, wrap me up a few to bring home with you.”

“Sirius,” Remus chides. 

“I’ll check,” James agrees easily. “Rem, do you want some chocolate ones if they have those?” 

If James could see the way your boyfriend flushes pink, he’d be grinning ear to ear. “Yes, please,” Remus replies. 

“Brilliant. And for you, lovie?” 

“I’ll just mooch off of Sirius’ blueberry ones.” You snicker when Sirius gasps, sneaking a hand around your waist to pinch at your middle. 

“Oh, perfect,” says James. “I’ll make sure to grab a few less, then, so you can really fight over them.”

“Prick,” Sirius accuses. 

“Love you, too. So, how was everyone else’s day?” 

You catch yourself smiling a second before seeing a similarly contented expression reflected on Sirius’ face. Remus moves from his armchair to the couch, and you all lean into the phone as you tell him. 

[avengersbtch]

You're Lucky Your Beautiful - Armando Aretas

Armando Aretas x Reader

Warnings: This fic does not follow to the film’s timeline.  I have altered the scenes!!

A/N Pre relationship flirting?? Or maybe pre- pre-relationship flirting lol idk but it’s cute, I think. I’m a sucker for pre relationship fics and the build up!!! 

Summary: Y/N pinged the location of Mike & Marcus’, leading to Armando meeting y/n for the first time and a roller coaster of emotions in one night.

Word Count: 3.4k

The hunt for Mike, Marcus and Armando was plastered on every news outlet known, you felt useless watching every news reporter talk down on Mike and Marcus as you were trying to look for them. Marcus felt more like father figures to you than your actual parents did so watching everyone jump at the opportunity to talk down on their reputation they built was crushing, you also knew for an absolute fact that everything they were saying was false and you would bet your life on that too. You had no feelings toward Armando, you neither liked nor hated him. Mike obviously felt deeply for his long-lost son, but you had never met him, so seeing him on the news didn’t really inflict any feelings. All you knew was that he was the key to the case and after Mike insisted he ID the suspect, Armando agreed reluctantly. 

You were snuggled on your cream cotton couch sitting on your laptop trying to track down or contact the boys without the Feds knowing. They had pulled you off their case, knowing how close you were and took most of your personal belongings or tapped the rest assuming Marcus might contact you. This laptop was your backup, backup laptop, so thankfully they didn’t find this one.

Just as you were going to call it a night, your laptop pinned an advancement on their case, a location. Of-course Mike had gone to Tabitha’s, probably not wanting to get you involved in whatever mess he’s in. You immediately jumped and ran to get dressed to be some sort of assistance, now you weren’t physically or skill-fully equipped for combat, you could admit that, however expertise excelled behind a computer, and everyone knew that. Either way you know they could at least use a safe place to stay and whatever else you could offer.

You slipped in black jeans and a long sleeve black fitted top with a hoodie, with the aim of staying as inconspicuous as possible. You quickly slipped into your sneakers as you jump into your car, following the reports of their location. You’d probably get fired for doing what you were about to do, especially given there is a high chance an actual criminal is tagging along to their adventures. That obviously being Armando, but you decided would deal with that later. 

Speeding down the highway, you could hear the sirens closing in and the gunshots becoming more consistent. As you neared the scene, you could see multiple cop cars, large four-wheeled drives, and vans at all different angles. This would be a nightmare for you to find them. You drove into an alleyway, noticing the traffic moving in the same direction and slowly parked behind a large dump bin. Exiting the car, you left the ignition running to assist in easier escape. As you walked out the alleyway, you peeked out of the corner of the wall seeing a large black van on fire. 

“Guess it wasn’t that hard to find them” you chuckled rolling your eyes at the current state of the vehicle they were using. You watched them jump out the moving van just as the van light and exploded right before your eyes. You count three. Meaning they were in fact accompanied by Armando. Great. You eyed the three of them, as they ran in your direction, you eyed the scene making sure there were no witnesses and no threats. When you deemed it safe, you stepped out of the alleyway in full vision. They all paused, Mike squinted as if recognising your figure and slowly stepped closer. 

“Y/n?!” He questioned in surprise, obviously not expecting to see a familiar face.

“Y/n? Mike what are you on about?” Marcus followed until he spotted you “Y/n!” He confirmed once he ID’d you. More for himself really. 

“let’s have a family reunion later, hurry up my car’s around there” you pointed in a hurry as you ran off expecting them to follow you. You couldn’t waste any time, you need to get the out of here before they were spotted again. You slip into the driver’s seat waiting for them to get in, taking longer than usual you turn to see Armando still outside of the car. 

“Dude, get in the car. We need to go” you hissed. Did he not understand the severity of the situation?

“How can we trust her?” Armando asked looking over my shoulder at Mike.

“Who else do you have right now? get in or I’m leaving. I really don’t care whether you live or die” I whisper yelled, pre-emptively interrupting their conversation.

“Armando, get in. We can trust her” Mike sighed. Armando’s eyes flicked over to you and back to Mike then back over to you until he decided to trust you and slipped in the back seat near Marcus. You rolled your eyes, setting your car into drive and shaking your head, as if you were begging for him to trust you. 

The drive back was silent, almost awkward giving you were aiding the escape of a fugitive. Deciding to break the long silence, you joked “So I see you guys decided to quit you day job and harbour a wanted fugitive”. 

“Ha ha y/n, just get us to yours please. We need to get to Dorn’s tomorrow morning. Armando is our only lead to ID the suspect, they’re going lengths to try and kill him” Marcus explained, and his eyes remained on the road watching for any unwanted noise. Your eyes flicked to Armando through the rear-view mirror. His eyes also trained on the road and his surroundings. You had to admit, he was extremely good looking, even with his bud light shirt and his burnt jeans, the only thing you could focus on was his shining eyes. God damn. You trained your eyes back to the road in front of you and kept driving almost smacking yourself for checking him out.

“How did you find us?” Armando asked in curiosity, though his face did not emote. If it wasn’t for the question, it was almost like he didn’t give a fuck. 

“Oh uh, I, I uhm I’ve been tracing the feeds on your location. Just about everyone is looking for you. Though they’ve been pretty late to finding you guys after the uh crash” you stuttered honestly shocked at his interest. Not sure whether he’s asking you because he wants to know or testing you. 

“Armando, y/n’s the brains behind the operation. We’ve known her since she was a kid. She’s not with them, relax we can trust her” Mike supported you, confirming your concerns. He was just testing you.

Arriving at home, you parked in your driveway, telling them to follow you as you walked up a short flight of stairs to your door. You felt a sense of nerves inviting Armando into your home and you weren’t sure whether that was because he was a criminal or extremely attractive, which was truly concerning. Walking into your home, everything remained as you left it with your laptop on the couch where you were seated, the chips and red bull beside you on the mahogany coffee table. The house wasn’t messy but looked lived in with there being left over steak and chips on the table that you hadn’t yet cleaned up from dinner, some cups in the sink that required cleaning from the night prior that were on display with the dim kitchen light still on, illuminating the small kitchen and the remaining condiments that you had not packed up yet. Your home was small along with your kitchen, so any small mess would look like a lot. 

“Sorry guys, the house is a bit of a mess. I had just finished dinner before your location pinged” you lied slightly trying to excuse the mess. “there’s leftover food if you guys are hungry and give me a sec, I’ll get you guys something to change into” you offered as you walked to fetch them clothes to change into, unsure of what  or why they were wearing those clothes. 

“What man does she have that lives here?” Armando’s thick accent echoing from the room. It sounded more pronounced than usual, Furrowing your brows, you continued to listen as you selected clothes for the three of them. 

“Why do you care?” Mike asks accusingly which makes you chuckle slightly. 

“I’m just saying, is he gonna walk in here, and see us all here and rat us out? we need to be smarter than that, or do we trust everyone that you say we can, because that didn’t work out with Tabitha” he answered defensively, and Mike threw a knowing hum as I finished collecting their clothes. 

I walk out of the spare room with the clothes and smile sweetly in hopes that maybe he’ll finally trust me and explain “My brother comes and stays at mine when he’s in town. No one is going to come in, like I said,  you can trust me” 

He stares at me again as if he doesn’t give a fuck, his eyes give away nothing and I wait expectantly for some sort of comeback. 

“Don’t worry about him y/n, he knows no one’s walking in. He just asking questions he shouldn’t” Mike waved him off as Marcus in the kitchen where he was already hammering my snacks. 

Armando still staring and this becoming increasingly awkward, you handed him some clothes, not noticing which ones you offered him, he took them without fight and walked to the shower without a single thank you, causing you to mutter “a thank you would be nice, it’s not like I’m begging for you to stay” 

“Enojado te queda bien” he mumbled as he slammed the door. You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he just told you, he could have insulted you for all you know. You had known this man for all of five minutes and he was already getting on your nerves. Slipping off your hoddie, you noticed Mike and Marcus plating some of the leftovers which you were happy about, you followed in to help them and although the man in the bathroom was pissing you off, you did feel bad for him given he was just in prison and was now on the run because someone was trying to kill him so Ultimately, you decided to plate him some too before they demolished it all. 

“Your son is showering I think, so you guys can go next. The clothes are on the couch” you announced as you plated the food. Marcus paused plating and eyed out the plate in your hand.

“I thought you ate” he asked knowingly, well it was more of a statement that caused you to roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me that look Marcus, I’m putting him a plate before you demolish the food” you explained in defence. 

“Mhmm” he hummed offering me a side eye while he returned to plating his food. 

“Marcus don’t mhm me! As much of a dick he is, I’m not heartless” you argued again defensively, there was most definitely nothing of what Marcus was insinuating. He was a criminal for god’s sake! Yes, a gorgeous one but nevertheless a criminal.

You moved to dish as the boys went to eat dinner on the couch, given the size of your house, there was really no room to fit a dining table in the kitchen or living room, so you opted to have a multi-use coffee table instead. As you were washing the dishes you heard the bathroom door open, forcing yourself not to turn your head only so you didn’t offer Marcus anymore ammo to suggest anything further, continuing to clean you dishes. You felt the warmth of his presence near you as you assumed he was reaching for the food you’d plated him, the closer he got, the harder it was to keep your eyes trained on the dishes, let alone your focus. You moved your eyes slightly to see him eyeing the food out with caution, any tension remaining sprinting out of your body as you rolled your eyes at his distrust.

“it’s not poisoned Armando” you stated obviously unable to hide the second eye roll. His eyes lifting with his head still facing down and lips tilted in a slight smirked. Soon after his head followed the position of his eyes, looking straight at you with a smirk. His eyes slowly skimming your now slightly more exposed body up & down until he finally reached your eyes again. Your brows furrowed yet again, analysing the situation that just occurred.

“Are you? Are you trying to piss me off on purpose?” you questioned with your voice an octave higher.

He chuckled at your question and flicked his head in demand “Can I have a fork Mami?” he asked with the same smirk on his face.

You were embarrassed to admit the baby name caught you off guard, he had your head turning to the forks trying to identify the purpose of the utensil he requested, then turning back to him trying to figure out what game he was playing.

You turned you back to the forks and him at least twice until you demanded an answer “Why are you trying to piss me off, what’s your game?” you asked furiously as you grabbed him a fork.

“Like I said, Angry looks good on you mami” he stated as a matter of fact. Your eyes widen in shock and if you were flustered before, you were a walking mess after that comment. You stood in the kitchen staring at his back absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden change, you needed a second to breath, to process the two comments he made. One minute he was as cold as Antarctica, next he was playing jokes and calling you very cute nicknames that may or may not have sounded 10 times better in his accent. You pinched yourself and walked to the living room hearing Mike call you in the background, deciding to sit on the floor far from Armando and turned straight to Mike.

“Did you like the food?” You asked Mike, trying to ignore the hot stare on your left. You could feel him staring and eating at the same time.

“Thank you so much y/n, for the food but also for putting yourself on the line for us, I know what risk you are taking.” He thanked with sincerity.

You smiled at his sincerity “Mike, you know I would stop everything for you guys, next time just come straight to me please?” you asked honestly, and he smiled back and nodded acknowledging your heartfelt request. You, out of instinct turned your focus to the burning stares on your left, forgetting your internal feud and notice him staring intently this time, no playfulness or smugness, just wonder and awe at your loyalty. His focus re-trained, noticing you starting he smiled, not one reaching his eyes but one that you could tell meant something. This smile sparked something in you, it was probably also seeing him eat like he hadn’t eaten in months, which may have truly been the case, given that he was in prison, but whatever it was it had you inclined to personally ask him if he liked the food.

“Are you enjoying the meal, Armando?” you asked as you looked at him innocently, and while it may as well could have been innocent. Armando’s heart melted at little at your concern, he could see the worry in your eyes, the need for him to say yes that he was enjoying it. Not that he would be lying if he said yes, he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in months, let alone a home cooked piece of steak but that face would have made him say yes anyway.

The jokes and games for a second forgotten, lost in your eyes and he smiled softly as he answered “Yes, thank you y/n”. She smiled and looked toward her lap with a slight blush on her face leaving Armando weak for more. He coughed almost to break the spell you had put him under and looked at Mike, his brows were raised almost as warning but right now, he really didn’t care, he just wanted to make you smile again.

“Ok, well! I’ll take that as my cue, Mike you wanna go sleep?” Marcus announced awkwardly. Mike caught on quick and jumped at the offer agreeing at least three times that he was tired.

“Oh uh of course, I have a spare room, there is a mattress under the bed too if you guys want to take the spare room?” you blinked, shaking yourself out of whatever head fuck that Armando caused as offered the room.

“Yeah, sounds good, Armando are you good to take the couch?” Mike asked not really giving him an option. Armando just nodded while finishing of his food.

“Armando can take my room, I’m okay on the couch tonight” I offered, knowing they’d only be staying here tonight.

“No. the couch is fine” He answered, causing you to frown a little as the dismissive tone on his voice. But little did you know, he didn’t want you sleeping on the couch.

“Honestly it’s fine, you guys are only here for one night and no offense, but you’ve been sleeping in a prison for ages, I fall asleep on my couch all the time” You over-explained hoping he would take you up on your offer. You looked at Mike and Marcus for encouragement and when they weren’t going to assist, you threw them a glare that forced them to convince him to take your bed. He reluctantly agreed and thanked you to which you smiled at again. God he should have said yes sooner if he’d known he’d see your smile again.

The boys cleaned up their plates and went off to bed as they had a so aggressively agreed they needed to do. You noticed Armando had finished his plate, so you offered him more which he politely declined. To say you were confused was an understatement, one minute he was mean and defensive, then flirty and now nice. He was difficult to read and even harder to please.

He packed his plate up as well; you watched as he then stood at the sink cleaning his dishes as you moved to the couch crossing your legs. He was wearing a black tank top that had his tanned arms on display, biceps flexing every time he scrubbed a little harder, at this point, you were staring at him unashamedly. Well, that was before he called you out for it.

“You gonna keep staring, or you wanna help” he smirked still washing, but you were not going to let him have this one, not while you had the confidence to stare at him.

“didn’t I give you a top plus the tank?” You asked knowing that you were calling him out for choosing to look so fucking sexy right now. Ok maybe it wasn’t much of a comeback, but hopefully it would catch him off guard, the same way he did to you. He paused washing, indicating it may have had the desired effect, causing a small smirk to lift on your lips.

He looked up, rinsing off the last dish “Where’d your hoodie go?” he asked back almost in retaliation walking closer to you. You just lifted your shoulders with a cheeky confused look on your face “Tienes suerte eres hermosa” He commented in Spanish again.

Brows furrowing yet again with a slight frown “What does that mean?” more confident to ask.

He smiled so softly and leaned in close to your face, your eyes followed his movements and face still. As he moved closer to your ear, your eyes moved straight ahead focusing on his voice. “You are lucky you're beautiful” He translated. Your head turned so quickly looking directly at him, your faces almost touching. He looked down at your lips and then back up your eyes, his head moved slightly and opted for a soft peck on the cheek as he whispered goodnight.

This man would be the absolute death of you, you knew this for sure.

[ja3yun]

I'm a Virgin, Not a Murderer: ch.1 | pop your cherry

virgin!heeseung x sex worker!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m.rec), blue balls, murder, mentions of blood, sex work (use of words tart card and prostitute), set in the 90's london, heeseung is a loser, anything else lmk wc: 11.2k ch.1 synopsis: determined to lose his virginity, heeseung follows his friend's plan and ends up hiring you to pop his cherry, little does he know that he'll walk out of that room something much worse than a virgin a/n: hi! this is the first instalment of iavnam and i am so so so excited to share this with you all. this is a silly, fun fic that i hope you can enjoy but i will say that it has some moments of angst throughout. feedback, comments, reblogs, and likes are all appreciated and i hope you give loser!hee a chance

masterlist | chapter 2

“What am I going to do? I can’t enter working life a virgin.” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his temples as he complains.

Heeseung is a gentle soul, the type of boy you read about in novels or see in cheesy romance films. No, he’s not the bad boy with a hidden heart of gold or the burly football player with a secret love for the arts. Heeseung is the overlooked best friend, the quiet boy pining from the sidelines, the introverted geek who spends his Fridays alone while the girl he loves rushes off with the popular guy.

At 22, Heeseung has never been with a girl. He can’t even look at one for more than ten seconds without sweating or mumbling about the new Toy Story film that was released last year. And with only two months left before he graduates, the thought of entering the adult world as a virgin weighs heavily on him. He might be the only one from the Class of ‘96 who hasn't had this experience, and he feels an urgent need to change that.

He watches his friends with a mix of envy and longing as they get into relationships or have sex with the nearest girl at a party, wishing it could be him for once. All his life, he’s dreamt of a perfect romance where a boy meets a girl, they fall in love, and share their first time.

All in all, Heeseung just wants to be in love with the person he loses himself to. But time is ticking, and he’s starting to realise that his dream of a whirlwind romance might not be feasible. He might have to settle for whatever chance he can get.

“What’s the use in complaining if you aren’t going to talk to a girl for more than a minute?” Jongseong mutters into his beer can, eyes still trained on the Sony Trinitron TV in front of him.

Jongseong has had this conversation with Heeseung so many times that it’s starting to bore him. He understands his best friend’s desire for a meaningful connection; anyone would want that. But Heeseung’s idealism clashes with Jongseong’s pragmatic nature. For months - no, years - he’s been telling Heeseung to either take action or let it go. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin at any age, and Heeseung used to see it that way too. Yet, for some reason, he’s convinced he’d be the laughingstock of any office if word got around.

All throughout high school, Heeseung was the same: stuttering and twitching whenever a girl looked at him. Jongseong has never seen anyone worship women as Heeseung does while simultaneously being utterly terrified of them.

Heeseung suddenly grabs the can from Jongseong’s hand, stunning him, and slams it onto the coffee table of their apartment. “I’m serious, Jongseong. I’m doing it this time, for real.” There’s determination and fire in his voice, even though his heart is pounding at the thought.

Turning to face him, still in a can-holding position, Jongseong raises an eyebrow. “You’re really going to do it? No wimping out?” he asks incredulously. It’s not that he doesn’t believe his friend’s words; he’s just surprised by how assured Heeseung looks.

Nodding, Heeseung crosses his legs on the couch. “Absolutely! And I have a plan.”

“Oh god, what is it?” Jongseong asks nervously, apprehensive about what kind of plan the virgin has concocted for himself.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “Alright, so here’s the deal. I’m going to start small and take baby steps. First, I’ll join a club or a group where I can meet people without the pressure of one-on-one interactions. Maybe a book club or a film society. That way, I can get more comfortable talking to girls in a casual setting.”

Jongseong nods slowly, considering the idea. “Okay, that sounds reasonable. Except all the clubs and meets have stopped now considering it’s two months until summer vacation.” The younger rolls his eyes, picking his can back up. “What other plans do you have?”

There is a silence in the air which pauses Jongseong mid-sip. Scratching the back of his neck, Heeseung sheepishly shrugs and winces at his friend's disappointing gaze. It took him a week to come up with that one plan, hoping that he could ride on the waves of already-formed groups. He did, however, come up with the plan 4 months ago and just has never put it into action, so it is a little outdated.

“It was a solid plan!” he huffs and crosses his arms, pouting like a baby despite being the oldest of the two. “It’s not like I can just phone up a girl on one of those fancy mobiles and ask her to fuck me.”

Jongseong’s ears perk up, eyes widening as if he’s just hit the motherload of all ideas. His excitement makes Heeseung sit up in attention, furrowing his brows as he watches him stand up and turn the TV off. “You’re a fucking genius, Lee.”

Although the compliment settles fondly in his heart, he still doesn’t know why he is a genius nor does he have time to think about it before his best friend drags him by the arm outside of the flat and into the street, striding towards something with tenacity. 

He complains about the grip Jongseong has on him but follows him regardless, feet rushing to keep up the pace as they make their way down the street and into the skirts of the city. Heeseung knows better than to argue with the boy when he is on a mission like this, the last time he did so was when Jongseong went on the hunt for the last Thor comic book, edition #487 and Heeseung told him to just ‘get it another time’. Turns out, everyone and their granny wanted it and with Heeseung constantly holding them up, he missed out on the first press. The boy never heard the end of it and was almost disowned.

So he trails idly behind him until they reach a phone booth. The glass is taped with flyers of missing dogs and Y2K conspiracies, babysitter ads and jobs for hire. It’s a mess, yet Jongseong seems to be looking for something in particular.

“I know I said phoning up a girl, but I hardly think Mystic Michelle sees me in her future,” Heeseung snorts, dipping his hands into his pockets. He refuses to tell Jongseong that in a desperate attempt to find out when he would lose his virginity, he had already phoned a psychic medium who told him, “You’ll lose it when you choose to travel.” Considering he has never and likely will never step foot outside his hometown, he deemed that as his first and last time trusting in the universe’s whispers.

Jongseong, ignoring Heeseung’s quips, searches diligently until he sees the poster hanging inside the booth and immediately whips the door open, dragging the surprised black-haired boy into the tight space with him. With urgency, he tears the number tab off of the bright red poster and thrusts it into Heeseung’s hand.

Pointing to the poster, Jongseong smirks. “She is your ticket out of virginville,” he says playfully yet a serious undercurrent waves through his voice. If Heeseung is going to get laid, and fast, he is going to need a professional.

Heeseung looks closely at the poster and sees a girl in a white-laced thong posing in front of a red background, her left arm covering her plump tits as she sucks on a lollipop. His eyes shake and his head follows, backing up slightly despite the confined space and protesting the idea profusely. “Not a chance, Jongseong! This is prostitution, which by the way, is illegal in this country.”

“I know you’re a saint, okay? But desperate times call for desperate measures.” He shrugs, already putting the 20p coins into the slot and picking up the ringer. “You know Jaeyun lost his virginity this way.”

“Yeah, and she was a 43-year-old mother of 6 who fucked him in her garden shed. He said he got the clap from that!” 

Heeseung is not exaggerating, Jaeyun was so determined to ‘gain experience’ that he chose one of these girls from a traffic light pole and what was promised to be a sexy 21-year-old in his area, turned out to be a mum who needed a quick cash grab before her kids got home from school. Needless to say, he went along with it, already mentally prepared for the pop and then a few weeks later by consequence he was in the sexual health clinic getting tested for an STD. He lost his virginity but also his dignity that day.

Exhaling loudly, Jongseong closes his eyes in frustration. “We can phone and ask for an appointment and if she isn’t this very pretty girl that is offering you a ‘spanking good time with a 22-year-old’ then you can bolt for the hills and we’ll find you someone else.” His tone is coated in disapproval at his friend’s unwillingness to give this brilliant idea of his a chance.

Punching in the numbers, Jongseong holds the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, “You want me to talk?”

Realising he is stuck in a boat without a paddle, Heeseung relents, gesturing for Jongseong to take the reigns of the situation; if he were to be the one to speak to the girl, he would probably vomit. This is the complete opposite of how he had dreamed this would go and Jongseong knows it.

The phone begins to ring and Jongseong shushes the other boy as he waits patiently. It gives Heeseung the chance to look at the lewd poster once again and he can see why this one caught Jongseong’s attention over the other tart cards in the booth. The girl is striking and real, not like some of the page 3 models that have clearly been used to lure these desperate men in, there is a prettiness to her, a charm that pulls attention even through a piece of paper.

“Hello, handsome, how can I be of service?”

Her voice, sweet yet sultry, filters through the phone and dances on the glass panels, sending a shiver down Heeseung's spine and making his knees weak. His eyes widen as he gazes at the poster, imagining that captivating voice belonging to the stunning girl. Surely, it couldn't be her, could it? No one could sound and look so perfect simultaneously.

Jongseong scoffs at Heeseung's reaction to a mere female voice and playfully slaps the back of his head, snapping him out of his reverie within the stuffy confines of the phone booth. He clears his throat and addresses the caller on the other end. “Hi, uh,” he glances at the poster, searching for the name, “Y/N, is it?”

You giggle softly over the phone, twirling the cord attached to your landline. “Yes, what can I help you with?”

It’s been a few days since you put up the flyers and there has already been an abundance of calls coming your way; some old guys looking to rub one out before work, others looking to be degraded, and some even just wanting advice on how best to clean their house before their wives come home.

For you, it’s easy money and a needed break from the work you do other than please pervy men. On days you’re not at home, you’re out working behind the bar at Nice N’ Sleazys, picking up after everyone’s mess and pouring pint after pint while the worst music grates at your ears. 

Sex work, despite its numerous downsides, offers a straightforward way to earn money. Initially, you worked in a brothel just outside the main city, where your tips and pride were stolen by the cruel man who ran it. The girls were lovely, and some of your regulars were kind, but the work and pain were too much for the meagre earnings.

So you left and started managing yourself. The owner didn’t like it, but it was your decision. He wasn’t sad to lose you, but rather the money your regulars brought in. However, his displeasure was short-lived when he found your replacement—someone who brought in more money and was willing to do much more than you ever could.

Despite the challenges and dangers managing yourself has provided you with a sense of independence and control that you did not have when working for someone else. You've learned how to deal with the industry's complexities, setting boundaries and putting your own safety first; even if that meant refusing some of your regulars into your new endeavours. 

The line goes silent and you speak up again, “Can I help you?” you ask gently, still keeping the sex worker persona intact. However, once you hear shuffling in the background with hushed whispers, you quickly drop the act and sigh. “Look, if it’s you boys from the school up the road prank calling me again, I will call your mothers.”

With posting your landline in phone booths comes prank calls, you expect it but you could really use the money this week; your fridge is running on empty and your washing machine has somehow blown up on itself - that’s what you get for buying second-hand from a newspaper ad. Maybe you should have picked up that cleaner job for that mansion in the middle of nowhere while you were buying appliances. 

Customers might be regular but you’re just starting, you can’t charge more than you’re worth.

Jongseong flicks Heeseung’s nose, making him yelp. While you are on the other line, Heeseung decides to try and hang up and chicken out but his friend is adamant that he is seeing this through. He doesn’t know how long he can sit and listen to him whining anymore.

“Sorry! No, uh, shit,” Jongseong racks his brain for words that have escaped him, biting his lip as he concentrates on how to perfectly imitate the virgin, “My name is Lee Heeseung. I am a pathetic 22-year-old and need to lose my virginity. I was wondering if you could do me the honours of popping my cherry.”

“I do not talk like that!” Heeseung protests, swatting Jongseongs arm who simply shrugs, unbothered by the offence he is causing the elder. His sole mission is to get Heeseung laid and he is so close to making that happen.

They hear you hum on the other line and immediately stop bickering, staring at the phone as if they can see you through it. “Can I speak to the real Heeseung please?” 

The boy feels sick, head dizzy at the sound of his name coming from your lips but also because Jongseong is thrusting the phone into his face, moving behind him to give him the floor. He hadn’t anticipated speaking to you, just casually observing and listening in to Jongseong sell him off to you. 

“Put on your big boy pants and do this!” Jongseong scolds, eyes darting between Heeseung’s face and the receiver.

Carefully, Heeseung brings it to his ear and closes his eyes, counting to ten in his head before replying. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Heeseung. How are you doing?” you ask softly. This isn’t your first rodeo with a virgin so you know better than to go in all tits blazing and calling him a big boy. 

Nodding as though you can see him, Heeseung purses his lips, trying to muster up some semblance of confidence. “I’m good…how are you?” he asks, his voice wavering slightly despite his efforts to sound assured. The shaky breath he lets out betrays his nerves, and he inwardly cringes, expecting the worst.

On the other end, you can't help but giggle softly. It’s not a titter of mocking, but rather one of endearment. Virgins are the cutest to speak to in your eyes because most of them have no idea how to navigate a conversation like this. There's something charming about their genuine nervousness and innocent curiosity.

Heeseung’s embarrassment deepens as he hears your giggle, imagining all the ways he might be coming off as awkward and inexperienced. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry if I sound nervous,” he stammers, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Your voice remains warm and reassuring, easing some of his anxiety. “That’s okay, Heeseung. Everyone has to start somewhere. I promise, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Your voice is so smooth and lovely that Heeseung instantly relaxes. He is glad that if Jongseong picked any of the workers on the posters beside him, he is glad it was you.

Straightening his posture, Heeseung steadies himself. “My friend is right, I am a virgin and I want to get rid of it. Can you help with that?”

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” you gently remind Heeseung, concern lacing your voice. “Are you sure this is how you want to do it?” You should be arranging a time and place rather than potentially jeopardising your weekly food shop, but if you were in his shoes, you’d want to offer him an escape route, just in case.

But Heeseung seems resolute now, determined to rid himself of the insecurity that has plagued him for so long. “I am. I don’t want to graduate with this hanging over my head.”

Your heart melts a little at his sincerity, and you can’t help but pout. “Okay. Well, one of my regulars...well, let’s just say I’m not seeing him anymore, so I have a free slot tomorrow at 2pm. I usually go to the Point A Hotel near the intersection. Can you make it?”

Heeseung looks to Jongseong with panicked eyes, silently pleading for reassurance. The younger man nods enthusiastically, giving him two thumbs up, mouthing a gentle “Go for it” for extra ease. 

“Yeah, 2pm is fine.” His heart beats rapidly as he accepts your offer, his mouth going dry and his palms sweaty. 

“Amazing. Bring £200-, no, £300 and condoms in your size,” you instruct, changing your regular rate last minute. If he is as inexperienced as he seems, he won't know you’re ripping him off a little. It’s not like you want to but it’s what you have to do. The regular that was in that slot usually paid £500 with tips. However, you will take the comfort of not having him around anymore over bills.

Jongseong’s jaw hits the floor as he hears the price, his gaze glued to the phone but before he can barter for a better deal, the phone goes dead, the five 20ps he slotted in finally running out and leaving them both in silence.

Heeseung’s arm drops to his side, still gripping the receiver as he stares blankly into space. “£300 is all my savings,” he whispers to himself, the weight of the realisation settling heavily on his shoulders. Yet, even as the words leave his mouth, he’s working out how to move his bills around and where the nearest pharmacy is for condoms. 

Stepping out of the booth, Jongseong holds the door open and ushers Heeseung to follow. Heeseung, still lost in thought, obediently steps out, the crisp evening air hitting his face, a welcoming cool to the flush of his skin due to talking to a sex worker for the first time and also the heat of the booth.

Jongseong wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling him in with a gleeful tug. “Now, let's go get you some rubbers. I’m thinking extra small?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jongseong.”

_____

Standing in front of the shabby hotel, Heeseung braces himself for what will come. He should be ecstatic that he is finally on his way to losing his v card, but the dark clouds in the sky, the three buses, and the 30-minute walk to get to the Point A hotel have given him a dreaded sense of doubt.

The once vibrant red bricks of the building are now faded and chipped, with grime clinging to the crevices. The flickering neon sign above the entrance buzzes intermittently, casting a sickly green hue that does little to dispel the gloom. The place reeks of neglect, and a faint smell of dampness hangs in the air, mingling with the odour of stale cigarettes.

Heeseung’s stomach churns as he takes in the dilapidated surroundings. His heart pounds in his chest, and his palms are slick with sweat. Everything about this goes against what he stands for, but he thinks this might be the closest he will get in his young adult life. The last thing he wants is to be a 40-year-old virgin still complaining to Jongseong that numbing his hand and rubbing one out isn’t doing it for him the way it should.

He looks up at the darkened windows, some of them boarded up, others covered in grime. A lone figure stumbles out of the entrance, clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels, and disappears into the grey afternoon, reinforcing Heeseung's trepidation. Of course, the sex worker wasn’t going to ask him to meet in a swanky five-star hotel, but anything had to be better than this.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to steady his nerves. The anticipation that should be filling him with excitement instead gnaws at him with apprehension. His mind races with conflicting thoughts – the desire to finally cross this threshold clashing with the nagging sense that he's settling for something far less than he deserves. The thought of his future self, bitter and frustrated, pushes him forward despite the unease curling in his gut.

He can't let fear dictate his choices any longer; at the end of the day, virginity is a social construct, and women are the greatest gift from God, so there is nothing to be so scared about. Taking another deep breath, he steels himself and steps forward, ready to face whatever lies ahead within the confines of the Point A hotel.

Quickly, he grabs the shutting door and steps inside, his guard raising instantly as he sees the darkness of the foyer. This is the type of place where people mug you for fun rather than necessity. Stained mattresses are leaning against the graffitied walls, the overhead lights are dull, providing little support to Heeseung’s pupils, and the carpet beneath him is sticky, every fibre clinging to the sole of his Air Max trainers.

He takes tentative steps to the front desk, which has been barricaded by crossed steel bars and adorned with a sign reading ‘Police on Speed Dial’. This does little to make him feel any safer. Heeseung’s eyes squint as he gets closer to the desk lamp and sees a middle-aged woman reading the latest issue of the Digger, a local newspaper filled with all the latest and greatest gossip of the town. The last time he read that particular paper was in the doctor's office, and the headline was ‘HE’S ESCAPED’ with a picture of the man who murdered the shopkeeper and police officer up in Brixton.

Shivering, not due to the air conditioning above him, Heeseung knocks on the desk softly and clears his throat, gaining the attention of the relaxed redhead.

“Yeah?” she asks nonchalantly, her eyes flickering up to the scared boy as if he was inconveniencing her by making her do her job. “Single, double, or meeting someone?”

The question throws Heeseung for a loop. He doesn’t know what room you're in or even if you would have given your real name. Surely, you would have created a fake persona when you came here. What if Y/N was the fake name? His pulse quickens as he stammers, trying to find the right words.

"Um, I'm meeting someone," he finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. The woman sighs, clearly unimpressed, and picks up an old, dog-eared ledger from under the desk.

"Name?" she asks, flipping through the pages with a disinterested expression.

Hesitating, Heeseung picks at the skin on his fingers and clears his throat again, a blush rising to his cheeks as he remembers that this is your regular spot, meaning that as soon as he utters your name - if that is the one you gave - then she will know exactly what he is here for. “Y/N. I’m looking for Y/N.”

The receptionist's eyes suddenly trail up and down his body, making him feel as though he is already naked. He is right in his suspicions; she is definitely judging him. Once she finishes examining him, she scowls in disgust and leans back into her chair, placing her feet on the desk as she grabs her paper once more. “Room 1015. And tell her she needs to calm it down with the lube she uses; it’s a bitch to get out of the sheets.”

Heeseung's face burns with embarrassment as he mumbles a quick “thank you” and turns away from the desk. He heads towards the lift, the receptionist’s gaze still sitting in the forefront of his mind, making him even more self-conscious than before. The lift pings open to reveal a tattered metal box, illuminated by a dirty yellow light that only makes the streaks of brown and rust stand out more. Maybe Heeseung should get a tetanus shot after all of this.

He presses the first-floor button with his elbow, careful not to touch anything with his bare skin just in case, and ascends to your room. The buzz from the light and the creak of the old wires holding the elevator make the journey last forever, considering it’s only one floor. But maybe that is also just his nerves. Heeseung's mind races as he stands there, the walls of the lift feeling like they're closing in on him. The air is stale, filled with a faint metallic tang that makes him uneasy.

As the lift jerks to a halt and the doors open, Heeseung steps out into a dimly lit corridor. The wallpaper is peeling, revealing patches of mould beneath. The faint buzz of a flickering light down the hall adds to the eerie atmosphere. Heeseung takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and walks towards room 1015. Each step feels heavier than the last, the worn carpet muffling his footsteps but not the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Pausing before your door, he abruptly pats down his jacket to ensure that he has brought the money and the condoms as per your request. His fingers brush against the crisp bills and the small, foil packets, reassuring him that he hasn’t forgotten anything crucial. The sense of preparedness does little to quell his anxiety, but it’s a small comfort amid his turmoil.

Heeseung breathes out slowly, cracking his neck as though he is bracing himself to fight with Roy Jones Jr. and not a 22-year-old girl who exchanges sex for money; although, he knows which one is scarier at this moment. His knuckles bang on the door lightly and suddenly his mind is reeling a mile a minute, all the questions and doubts he has been tackling within his mind for the past few hours now rushing to him at once. What if you aren’t who you say you are? You could be an old geezer looking to have his way with Heeseung and then toss him out the window with not so much as a thank you. What if this whole thing goes horribly wrong and cums as soon as you touch his cock? He spent last night jerking off and training himself to last just a little longer than usual in an aid to impress you.

Suddenly, there is a lump in his throat and trepidation overcasting the glee of losing his virginity. Something feels wrong, out of place, and his mum always told him to run at the first feeling of danger.

Yet, he doesn’t have another second to turn back and flee the scene because the door is swinging open and revealing-

You. Gorgeous, beautiful - definitely not a creepy old man - you. Heeseung’s jaw almost hits the floor like a cartoon character and his eyes turn to hearts as he takes you in. The baby pink robe you’re wearing with white lace detailing, your hair cascading down one of your shoulders in a soft, bouncy curl, and your lips that are tinted red like glossy maraschino cherries. You look even better than the poster in the phone booth if that was even possible.

His body flushes with heat as he sees your erect nipples poking through the silk, and he feels like he could faint. The sight of you is overwhelming, making his head spin and his heart race even faster. The trepidation that had gripped him moments before is momentarily forgotten, replaced by a rush of desire and nervous anticipation.

You smile warmly at him, a smile that reaches your eyes and seems to melt away some of his fear. "Hi, Heeseung," you say softly, your voice as smooth and inviting as honey. "Come on in."

Heeseung nods, stepping over the threshold and into the room. His movements are awkward and stiff, a stark contrast to your graceful fluidity. The door clicks shut behind him, and the reality of the situation hits him once more. But this time, the sense of wrongness is overshadowed by the sheer presence of you.

You move behind him and drink in the sight of him. If every client looked this good, you might just never complain again - but unfortunately, men like Heeseung come few and far between, like little sprinkles of water amongst oil. He is wearing slightly baggy deep-blue jeans, a white-faded-into-grey Rolling Stones t-shirt, and a red crinkled plaid shirt which is covered by a brown faux-leather jacket. Even his hair is washed and parted down the middle prettily, reaching his rosy cheeks and curving in slightly.

There isn’t a man that has ever looked this fine in your presence, so you’re starting to wonder why on earth he is still a virgin. Then again, he was super nervous on the phone, even making his friend speak for him to begin with - and with the lack of eye contact he is giving you, he clearly doesn’t do well in the presence of a female.

“I didn’t think you would come,” you observe, giggling as he tenses beside you.

Heeseung nods, agreeing with you almost immediately because for a good 2 hours while deciding on whether to wear his favourite boxers or a pair he got from his gran for Christmas, he almost decided to curl himself back into bed and forget you even existed.

The weight of his decision, the culmination of his fears and desires, all come crashing down at once as the silence settles. But standing there, with you smiling at him, he feels a small spark of hope, a glimmer of excitement that maybe, just maybe, this won’t be as terrifying as he’s imagined.

“You look unreal,” he whispers his inner thoughts out loud, causing him to slap his hand over his mouth, eyes shaking at the thought of saying anything at all to you.

His nervousness makes your heart cry, the cuteness trembling from his body is overwhelming, and you find yourself relaxing slightly. Heeseung is a gentle giant, and although he towers over you, he poses no threat at all which you gladly welcome considering what you normally have to deal with in this industry. It’s nice to not have to wonder what on earth a man is planning to do with you because you can’t read him.

Slinking your way towards him, you tuck a section of his soft hair behind his ear, his eyes closing and Adam's apple bobbing at your touch. “I’m as real as they come, baby. Why don’t you relax and give me your coat, hmm?”

As you reach for the brown jacket and try to push it off his shoulders, he flinches and backs away, hugging himself tightly. The sudden movement surprises you, and you quickly pull back, giving him space. His eyes are wide, like a deer caught in headlights, and you can see the internal struggle playing out in his mind. His face is flushed, and there's a mixture of fear and embarrassment etched into his features.

He quickly shakes his head, realising he startled you into a confused pout. “S-sorry! It’s just the money and condoms are in here and I…I think I might still be a little on edge considering this place is…well, it’s creepy as shit.”

Laughing loudly, you do a mix of nodding and shaking your head, puzzled by his reaction but understanding his apprehension of letting just anyone touch his belongings; God knows you’ve been held at knifepoint once or twice around this area. Your laughter, genuine and bright, seems to relax him a bit. 

“That’s okay, Heeseung,” you say, throwing your hands up in a non-threatening gesture in an attempt to ease his tension, which works surprisingly well. You can see his grip on his arms loosen just a bit. “How about you hang it up behind the door?”

Heeseung looks over his shoulder and sees the empty hook, calling out for his slightly battered jacket. Whipping it off, he clenches it in his hands as though he is wringing it of water - probably his sweat - and perks up again, the nerves still evident in his voice. “Do I give you the money now or?”

You smile at his earnestness, understanding his need to follow the process correctly. His vulnerability is endearing, and you feel a protective instinct kicking in. “Normally, I would take the money upfront but since I trust you not to run away, we can sort it out before you go.” It’s a generous offer in Heeseung’s mind, but in yours, you just don’t know whether he is going to make it past touching one of your tits, so it’s better to actually charge him for what you do rather than jumping the gun.

Heeseung’s eyes widen slightly at your trust, and you can see the relief washing over him. He nods vigorously, his movements still somewhat jerky but more controlled now. “Thank you,” he mumbles, his voice soft but sincere. “I appreciate it.”

As he hangs his jacket on the hook, you can see his hands trembling slightly. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady himself. When he turns back to you, there’s a flicker of determination in his eyes, mingled with the lingering nervousness.

Turning around, you are suddenly standing there, your body almost pressed against his. “Come on, sit down for a minute,” you say seductively, code-switching into your sex worker persona with ease. It doesn’t take much, just lowering your voice slightly and hooding your eyes over seems to work for most men, and by Heeseung’s expression and nervous shuffle of his feet, it clearly works for him too.

You reach for his hand, and he instantly flinches, but soon gives way for you to wrap your hands around three of his fingers, slowly guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. His breath hitches as your touch sends shivers down his spine, the warmth of your skin against his sending a jolt of electricity through him.

Heeseung’s heart pounds in his chest as he sits down, the bed sinking slightly under his weight. He can feel the heat of your body radiating against his, your closeness both comforting and intimidating. His mind races with a whirlwind of emotions—fear, desire, anticipation—all swirling together in a dizzying haze.

You sit beside him, your thigh pressing against his, and he can feel the warmth of your skin seeping through the fabric of his trousers. The sensation sends a shiver down his spine, and he can feel his cheeks flushing with heat. He swallows hard, trying to calm the rapid fluttering of his heart. He shifts uncomfortably, his nerves getting the better of him. But your presence is calming, your touch gentle and reassuring.

“Baby, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you assure him, bringing your hand to play with the hairs on the nape of his neck. 

The action causes his body to instantly fold inside itself, melting as you ease him gently into a state of comfort. He hasn’t been touched by a girl in the way you are right now, the closest he’s gotten is a handhold in primary 5 because his friends forced a girl to date him during lunch, so the way your long nails tickle his heated skin only gives his cock a reason to twitch. 

Shaking his head, tensing slightly when he looks into your kind eyes. “No, no, I want to. I’m just not used to talking to girls, or looking at them, or being in the same room as them…” He begins to waffle, talking about everything he has never done with a girl and you find his honesty endearing.

“You haven’t kissed a girl either, have you?” you ask with a hint of amusement. 

“Twice? I think. But they weren’t with tongues,” the shy boy cowards with his confession, scared of being scrutinised by the one person who is supposed to be helping him with all of this. He might just die if you start to point and laugh at him. But to his surprise, you nod understandingly. 

In your world of sex and adultery, it isn’t usually a question. Everyone, especially at twenty-two has probably at least been kissed, but you don’t judge him for not being experienced in even that field. There is a vulnerability and sadness in Heeseung’s eyes that tell you everything you need to know about him; he’s quiet, timid, lacks confidence, and obviously doesn’t venture outside his friend group

You smile reassuringly, your hand still clasping his as you nod in consideration. “It’s okay, Heeseung,” you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. “We’ll take things slow, at your pace. And I promise, there’s no judgment here…I do have to make sure you’re of age though, y’know, caution and all that.”

It’s not that you think he is lying, you just need to be careful with clients like this, particularly virgins because sometimes it can be a boy chancing his arm at a shot to lose his virginity, and you are not catching a case for a few hundred quid. 

Nodding, Heeseung understands what you mean and points to his jacket. “My provisional license is in my chest pocket. The one on the right,” he instructs. He would go get it himself but his legs are boneless with your proximity, so to save him embarrassment, he’ll let you venture for it.

You release his hand with a tender squeeze before walking to the door and reaching for his jacket, your fingers deftly searching through the pocket until you find his provisional license. With a quick glance to confirm his age, you let out a breath of relief. Everything checks out.

He is also super handsome despite the stoic face and reputation that licenses have for making people look ugly, which you think is unfair but don’t comment. Your driver's license looks like you’ve been swallowed by Jabba the Hutt and regurgitated back up, so the envy you are feeling is real right now.

Suppressing the green monster at Heeseung’s flawless appearance, you slip his license back into his pocket and make your way back to him, your movements slow and deliberate. As you draw nearer, you can see the anticipation in his eyes, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of nerves and lust.

Teasingly, you undo the tie of your thin robe, letting it open slightly and revealing a tantalising glimpse of what Heeseung is paying for. The fabric falls away, exposing the curve of your left breast, perfectly formed and enticing.

Heeseung’s eyes widen at the sight, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sight before him. His cheeks flush crimson, and you can see the desire burning in his eyes as he drinks in every inch of your exposed skin. 

This is his first time seeing a boob in the flesh and by God does porn not do it justice. Yours are just what he wants, the perfect size, look, and probably feel; he really needs to thank Jongseong for choosing you for this because he thinks he has hit the jackpot. 

Licking his lips, his eyes trace down to your panties and it instantly makes him squirm in place. They match your robe, a soft baby pink but the main body of them is seethrough, decorated by small pink hearts and a delicate bow on the side. The band of them are a pale rose, popping the colour of your skin beneath them. 

Seeing his reaction boosts your ego and you turn around, letting the silk drop at your feet as you glance back at him playfully, wiggling your bum to show how the panties are actually a thong that sits perfectly between your plump cheeks.

Heeseung doesn’t know where to look, your naked back, your peachy ass, or your beautiful featured face. So he decides what any virgin in his situation would do and looks away, staring at the popcorn ceiling that has leak stains on it.

Giggling, you walk over to him and straddle his lap, flicking your hair to the back to leave your breasts bare and in perfect sight for him to ogle at. Yet, he still doesn’t move. With a playful huff, you cup his face, your false nails scratching behind his ear as you pull him back to look at you.

“You’re going to have to look at me, baby,” you tease, angling his head and your body so his eyes have nowhere to look but your tits. 

They’re even better up close and if Heeseung were any other man, he would be taking your perky nipple into his mouth and starting this session with ease. But he is not any other man, he is a virgin who drools at the sight of any Playboy or Zoo magazines in the windows of shops and then immediately feels guilty because he hates objectifying women in any way shape or form.

He even feels guilty for his cock twitching in his pants every time you call him baby, knowing you’re feeling how it’s practically jumping to be released from its confines and in your grasp.

Sensing his apprehension to make a move, you decide to take the lead slowly by kissing his forehead, your tits hitting his chest as you push further onto him with the movement. “We’ll start by kissing and see where it goes, yeah?”

Your voice is forgiving and reassuring, the pads of your thumbs stroking his cheeks with fondness that only makes him mewl out slightly. You stifle the laugh because you know how humiliated he will feel if you do, not understanding that the cause of your amusement isn’t due to his whining but rather how much you’re enjoying how lost in your touch he is.

Gently, you take his hands and place them on your waist, giving him as much guidance as you can without it becoming demanding. He tenses as he feels your velvety skin, your perfume enveloping him in a mask of florals and vanilla.

"Relax, Heeseung," you say calmly, your voice soothing and encouraging. "We will go as far as you want, and we can stop at any time. Just say the word, okay?

Heeseung nods, meeting your gaze with a mix of anxiety and trust. "Okay," he replies, just above a whisper.

Moving his hands up your back, Heeseung slowly eases into feeling you, gaining confidence with each tender stroke. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. It's a welcome change from the roughness you're used to with your last client in this slot, and you find yourself sinking into the sensation, enjoying the intimacy of a man's touch for the first time in a long time.

It makes you wonder if this is what having a boyfriend would be like.

Heeseung’s eyes haven’t left your breasts, committing every bump of your areola and stretch mark that creates a beautiful symphony of elegant but sexy, each nipple unique in its appearance and direction. There’s nothing better than your boobs at this moment in time; he would pay you the £300 right now if just for one squeeze.

Then it hits him - he could hold them if he wanted to, that’s what he is here to do after all.

Ghosting his fingers up your back, he creates a path for them to cascade from your shoulders to the top of your breast. You feel a surge of anticipation as he gets closer, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body, your cunt starting to drip at the gentle caress.

He stops for a while, contemplating his next move. His eyes look up to yours pleadingly, the virginity shining through his iris’. “Can I?” he asks, seeking permission before delving in.

The act of consent fills you with warmth, and without hesitation, you nod, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. “Anything you want to do, baby,” you assure him, your voice filled with encouragement. 

Heeding your words, Heeseung finally makes his move, his digits whispering to your skin, giving them a tentative rub as he watches the skin melt around him. His thumb strokes over your left nipple, playing with it as if it were a fragile piece of art that he was too scared to break.

For some reason, the act is making you emotional, the way he is so delicately touching you. Never in your career have you seen something so pure and heartwarming. Every other virgin that has called you is just trying to stick it in your hole, never caring about your feelings or comfort.

Lifting his face up, you stare into his eyes with an underlying sparkle of adoration. If you could keep him as a client forever, you would, but you fear that this will be the last and only time with him, so you need to make it count.

You lean in, lips hovering over his petal-like ones and wait there for a moment, a silent ask for consent. It’s only fair considering his decency towards you.

With a nod and a stuttering motion, he presses his lips to yours oh-so-sheepishly. The touch is feather-light, almost tentative, and you can feel his nervousness in the way his lips tremble against yours. Yet there's a sweetness to it, a genuine curiosity and yearning that tugs at your heartstrings.

You respond gently, your lips moving softly against his, guiding him with tender patience. The kiss is slow, unhurried, and as you deepen it slightly, you feel him relax, his hands finding their way to your waist, gripping you a little tighter. His lips part instinctively, and you take the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, eliciting a soft gasp from him.

Heeseung’s reaction is immediate, his body responding to the new sensation with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. You can feel the tension melting away from him, replaced by growing confidence as he starts to explore the kiss with a bit more boldness. His hands roam cautiously, tracing the curve of your hips and the small of your back, his touch still delicate but increasingly assured.

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily. The intimacy of the moment hangs in the air, thick and heady, and you can see the mix of emotions playing out on his face - desire, excitement, and a lingering trace of apprehension.

“You’re doing so well, Heeseung,” you murmur softly, your fingers gently stroking the nape of his neck. “Just let yourself feel, and don’t worry about anything else.”

Heeseung’s eyes glisten with a mixture of gratitude and relief, and he nods, swallowing hard. “Okay,” he whispers, his voice steadier now. “Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me for kissing you?” you giggle, pecking his lips quickly. “How about I give you something to thank me for, to make sure you’re ready, hmm?”

Heeseung’s eyes widen, knowing exactly the act you’re alluding to, and he nods like an excited boy, a grin plastering on his face that exhibits disbelief and glee.

You guide him to lie back on the bed, the soft creak of the mattress punctuating the moment. Heeseung’s body is tense with anticipation, his hands clutching at the sheets as he watches you with a mixture of awe and nervous excitement. You feel a wave of tenderness for him, this young man who is putting his trust in you, hoping you can make this experience as good as he's imagined.

“Just relax,” you purr, your hands trailing down his chest, fingers brushing over his taut muscles that are hiding under his t-shirt. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Slowly, you work your way down his body, your lips planting soft kisses along his chest and lift up the hem of his shirt to pepper some on his stomach. Each touch elicits a small gasp from him, his body reacting to the new sensations with a mix of surprise and pleasure. You can feel his muscles relaxing under your touch, his trust in you growing with each gentle caress. You feel a strange mix of responsibility and pride, wanting to show him just how good it can feel to be touched and cared for.

Reaching the waistband of his jeans, you look up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Is this okay?” you ask, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice barely a whisper. “Please.”

With his consent, you unbutton his trousers and slowly slide them down, his boxers following suit. Heeseung’s erection springs free, his breath hitching as the cool air hits his heated skin. You take a moment to admire him, your fingers tracing delicate patterns along his length, feeling the tension and anticipation coiled within him. There's a sense of reverence in this moment, understanding the weight of trust he has placed in you.

“Just relax,” you repeat, your voice soothing as you wrap your hand around his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. He’s at least 6 inches and girthy, making your pussy clench at the thought of him being inside of you. “It’s a shame you’re not letting girls hit it, your cock is fucking spectacular.”

Heeseung’s face flushes with pride and embarrassment as you lower your head, your breath ghosting over his tip. “Oh, this is really happening…okay….fuck…” he breathes out, face turning red and eyes closing as he braces himself for the first contact. No one’s mouth has come this close to his cock so the feeling is overwhelming to his virgin mind.

You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting in a silent gasp and slowly take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his head, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. His taste is new, unfamiliar, but not unpleasant - almost clean and without the taste of battery acid some of the men you work with have -  and you relish the sounds he makes in response.

Heeseung’s reaction is immediate, his hips bucking slightly as a strangled moan escapes his lips. You place your hands on his hips, holding him steady as you begin to move, your mouth sliding up and down his length in a slow, rhythmic motion. The intimacy of this act, the connection you feel with him, makes your own body respond, a warmth pooling between your thighs.

His fingers dig into the sheets, his knuckles white as he tries to keep himself grounded, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. You can feel the tension building within him, the way his body trembles with each pass of your lips and tongue. You can sense his struggle to remain composed, his vulnerability on full display, and it makes you want to give him everything he needs.

Heeseung is doing everything in his power not to bust a nut right now, holding back as best as he can. He is also trying not to scream out a tiny ‘Yipee’ at the feeling of your tongue swirling the head of his cock. He’s trying to think of anything that isn’t sexy; his gran, Tony Blair, the old milkman that he swore spat in the milk before he delivered it. Yet, nothing is working because you are that fucking good, your mouth is driving him crazy that he genuinely thinks he could go insane.

You increase your pace slightly, your hand joining in to stroke the base of his shaft in time with your movements, and you can tell he’s close. His moans grow louder, his hips straining against your grip as he teeters on the edge of release. The power you hold over him in this moment is intoxicating, yet you wield it with care, wanting his first experience to be unforgettable.

And unforgettable it will be because just as Heeseung is seeing stars, the door swings open, revealing an angry and brute man. His face is red, sweating from the heat outside, his bald spot gleaming in the overhead light from outside, and his beer belly hanging over his two-sizes-too-small jeans, barely covered by the black worn-out t-shirt.

Charging in, he grips your hair, pulling out chunks of it and possibly some of your scalp as he rips your mouth off of Heeseung’s painfully hard cock. You scream in agony, tears pricking your eyes as he drags you around the room like a ragdoll.

Heeseung's euphoria crashes into a pit of dread, his heart pounding in fear as he scrambles to understand what’s happening. The shock freezes him momentarily, but seeing you in pain snaps him into action. He leaps from the bed, his mind racing with panic and the urgent need to help you. 

But he doesn’t know what to do, his hands trembling and stomach tied in knots as he watches the man lift you up by your hair swinging you around as if you are nothing but a paintbrush he is trying to beat dry.

“You little slut!” the man yells, grabbing your throat with his free hand and pushing you against one of the walls. “This is my session, bitch. I pay you to fuck me, not suck off this toothpick!” The grip on your throat tightens with every syllable spat in your face.

You kick your legs in a pathetic attempt to get the man off you, your air cutting off as your face burns red with struggle. You take a good look at the man and realise it’s your client who usually has your 2pm slot, the same man who tried to force himself on you in your last session and ignored your boundaries. It happens sometimes in this job but they don’t typically come back and try to kill you, at least not in your experience.

Girls at your old job warned you about this, sharing detailed encounters with disgruntled punters, but never did you think that you would be confronting one so early on. He used to be a nice guy, tipping well and never being handsy when it was uncalled for, so when he tried to slip it in a hole only reserved for birthdays, you instantly told him to get out and never come back.

Yet, here he is, choking you out in front of a man you barely know, probably terrifying him for the rest of time. He came here to lose his virginity, not gain trauma.

Heeseung's heart pounds with fear and anger. The man’s violent outburst had shattered any lingering nervousness, replacing it with a fierce determination to protect you. His initial shock melts away, leaving only a raw, primal need to help you. He can't let this happen, not after what you've done for him, not to someone who’s shown him such kindness.

His eyes lock onto the lamp on the bedside table, contemplating his next move. He isn’t equipped for this but he has to make sure you’re safe at any cost. You don’t deserve this, no woman does, you provide a service that most men take advantage of - but not him, he won’t let this brute of a man win. 

Apparently, you have the same mentality, your eyes searching the room for any object nearby. Your vision starts to black out, flashes of unconsciousness flickering over your eyes as you see a vase placed close to your right. It’s a stretch, but you reach out to grab it, your arm going limp and legs losing the fight but that determination in your body courses through and creates enough adrenaline to pinch the top of the vase.

With a swift motion, you lazily but forcefully thump him over the head with it. The blow lands with a thickening thud and the vase shatters into pieces, some of it cutting your arms as they ricochet down onto the ground. The grip on your throat eases ever so slightly as the attacker’s eyes roll to the back of his head for a moment, giving you the much-needed chance to breathe.

Heeseung, caught up in planning his own attack, grabs the lamp, the weight feeling solid and reassuring in his hands. He doesn’t think twice as he swings it with all his might, aiming for the man’s head.

“Let her go!” Heeseung screams, his voice cracking but filled with rage. He catches the man again with the base of the metal lamp, this time on his temple, forcing him to stumble back.

You gasp for air, collapsing to the floor as the man’s grip finally releases. Focusing your eyes on his face, you see the life drain from his body, the snarl that once painted his features now relaxing, face paling instantly as you see him wobble before crashing to the ground beside you.

Clinging to yourself out of adrenaline and fear, you cough, still gasping for needed air and that’s when you see it, the blood rushing from the guy’s head, leaking onto the carpet and staining it crimson with every passing second. Heeseung notices the damage just as quickly as you do, eyes widening and his head shaking, adamant that the man can’t be what he thinks he is.

“Oh my god,” Heeseung whispers, his voice trembling with shock. He drops the lamp, the clatter against the floor barely registering in his mind. “Is he... did I...?” He stutters, unable to complete his sentence, the reality of the situation crashing down on him.

You swallow the lump in your throat, adrenaline puppeteering your body to scramble away from the body and stand up, your eyes trained on the man as your body searches for a perch to rest on. The telephone and trinkets clatter to the ground as you lean against the Chester drawers, your heart pounding so loud you swear you can hear sirens.

“We…we need to call an ambulance,” Heeseung mutters, looking between the man and his own murderous hands. He can’t believe he caused this, a man is lying on the floor, gushing blood from his head all because of him.

As soon as the sentence leaves Heeseung’s mouth, your eyes shoot to him in bewilderment, mouth drying up at the thought. “We need to get out of here, Heeseung, we can’t call an ambulance.”

“We can’t just leave him here!” he protests, mirroring your confused expression.

“If an ambulance comes, then the police will, and we are fucked,” you exclaim in a rushed whisper, aware of your surroundings in the thin-walled hotel, not to mention the fact that the door is still wide open for anyone to stumble upon the brutality that has just occurred.

“It was self-defence!” he retorts, pointing to your neck as if punctuating the sentence with evidence.

You tremble, holding your throat and shaking your head, tears brimming in your eyes despite the urge in you to stay strong; you have never once been a crier, and you refuse to start now, not when you need to keep your head in the game and stay focused. “I’m a sex worker, Heeseung! They’ll lock me up in a minute and blame me for everything.”

Your brain betrays you, flashing with what could happen to you if the police even caught a whiff of you being here. It would automatically be your fault, no matter your plea of innocence. The authorities hate you despite most of them using call girls to relieve themselves in ways they won’t let their wives. You can see it now: the media frenzy, the courtroom, the cold, judgmental eyes of the jurors.

Heeseung’s eyes widen with understanding and fear, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “What do we do?” he whispers, desperation lacing his voice. “I can’t go to jail, Y/N, they will eat me alive.” 

Looking at him, you see how scared he is and you suddenly feel remorse over every other emotion that swirls in your body. He might have battered him over the head but it was you who was behind the reason; the boy felt an obligation to help you because he was here and afraid for your wellbeing. There is no way you can leave him to face this alone. It gnaws at you because you knew you should have either moved time or location, your gut telling you to do so only yesterday, but you ignored it, telling yourself that you were overreacting.

“We need to get out of here. Now,” you say with urgency, reaching over the dead weight of a man and grabbing your robe, tying it quickly around your practically naked body. “Grab your stuff, we’ll go down the back stairs, my car is in the worker's lot.”

“Where would we go? They know that we’re here,” Heeseung protests, running his hands through his hair in frustration, grabbing handfuls and tugging harshly as if trying to wake himself up from this nightmare.

Exasperated, you roll your eyes and snatch your bag from the end of the bed. You manoeuvre yourself around the room with desperate urgency, the breaths you are heaving out fueling you to think straight and keep to a plan. It’s pure fear that is driving your body right now, but you don’t fight it. Instead, you let it take you to safety and away from the carnage that you suddenly don't dare to look at.

Seeing you move with immediateness to the door, Heeseung subconsciously follows you like a lost puppy. Unfortunately for him, his fight-or-flight response has a third option: go into a state of haze. He doesn’t know what to do, and the bright idea that caused the mess before him only makes him doubt his mind about the next move, so he’ll follow you for now.

As you glance back at him, you see one slight issue, causing you to halt in your tracks, sparking confusion on his face, those bambi eyes you noticed now in full swing, making your heart flutter in the most awkward of times. Shaking it off, you turn your body and look down. “Uh, Heeseung?”

“What is it? What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asks nervously, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you speak. “You might need your pants,” you explain, opening your eyes and glancing pointedly at his semi-hard cock.

Heeseung’s face flushes a bright red, emulating the shade of a ripe tomato before he nods. His eyes dart around the room, searching for his clothes, only to spot his trousers and pants trapped under the dead man’s body. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of panic through him, his breath hitching in his throat. “Oh no... they’re under him,” he mumbles, his voice tinged with dread.

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself. “You have to move him, just enough to get your clothes. Can you do that?”

“Oh, yeah, just watch me heave up a 300-pound man off my Levis. Look at me, Y/N, I’m hardly a fucking gym rat.” The deflation and anguish in his voice are palpable as he walks around to the side where his jeans lie trapped.

You know he doesn’t mean to be rude to you, that it’s the fear talking, but you do miss when he was shy and couldn’t even form a coherent sentence without stuttering. At least then he wasn’t semi-shouting at you.

“Okay, okay,” you say softly, trying to calm him down. “We’ll do it together. I’ll help you.” You crouch down beside him, the closeness of the dead man making your stomach churn, but you push through it. You have to.

Heeseung’s hands are shaking as he reaches out, his fingers trembling as they touch the dead man’s shoulder. You can see the revulsion in his eyes, the sheer disbelief that he’s in this situation. With a deep breath, he steels himself, looking at you for reassurance.

“We can do this,” you say firmly, giving him a small nod. “On three, okay? One, two, three.”

Together, you heave, your muscles straining as you push the heavy, lifeless body just enough to free Heeseung’s clothes. The man’s weight is immense, and it takes every ounce of strength you both have. The dead weight shifts slightly, and Heeseung quickly grabs his trousers and pants, pulling them free with a grunt.

“Got them,” he says, his voice a mix of relief and horror as he scrambles to his feet, stepping away from the body as quickly as he can.

You stand up as well, wiping your hands on your robe, trying to rid yourself of the feeling of death that clings to your skin. “Hurry, put them on. We need to get out of here.”

Heeseung nods, his movements hurried and shaky as he pulls on his trousers and pants. The adrenaline pumping through his veins makes him fumble with the buttons, his hands still trembling. You watch him, your heart pounding in your chest, willing him to move faster.

Once he's dressed, you hastily grab his hand, pulling him out of the room and leading him to the backstairs, aiming for your trusty old Austin Metro. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, the adrenaline of fear coursing through your veins. How could this happen to you? You were just trying to live your life and make some money, not become an accomplice to murder.

Heeseung's thoughts mirror yours, his mind reeling at the sudden turn of events. All he wanted was to lose his virginity, not become entangled in a murder. As his feet scurry behind yours on the stone steps of the hotel, he realises there's no way out of this. There's no one to save him; this experience has irrevocably altered his life, but not in the way he ever imagined.

He walked into that room as a virgin, but now he's leaving as a murderer.

taglist (closed): @yzzyhee @intromortal @zerobaseone-zhanghao @hooniehon @deobitifull @alvojake @sageryuri @slut4hee @binniesbabe @vveebee @minniejenseo @jebetwo @seunghancore @laurradoesloveu @yongbokified @jaehoonii @jaeyunluvr @melonvrs @criminalyun @enhastolemyheart @fakeuwus @flwrhoes @rayofsunshineeee @moonlighthoon @jaehyuniewifeu @en-ternals @haechonly @got-sunghooned @brownsugarbaybee @heeseungspookie @sunpov @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan

[prettyfastcars]

He has me by my heart | Mob!Lando x Reader

Summary: Lando is bad for you. You know that, countless people have told you this. But no matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him. 

Themes: mob!lando, daddy kink, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, 

a/n: you know those videos of Lando being escorted by police in italy yeahhhh

You saw it on the news. 

Then again, everyone did. Ever since he was arrested a few weeks ago, people tuned in any moment they could to follow his story. He was well-known, filthy rich, and dangerous. He went against the law a lot. But somehow there was never enough evidence against him that incriminated him. 

Lando had too many loyal servants who were willing to lay down their lives in order to keep him away from being locked up in prison. But a few weeks ago, a couple days after you both broke up after a huge fight, he was arrested. 

Apparently he got into a rather violent fight at some exclusive club. Videos of it circulated around everywhere. And it was the most convicting evidence that had ever surfaced regarding him so the authorities used that to at least lock him up for a little time while they tried to dig up more stuff about him. 

However, that ended up not happening. Lando’s people kept everything clean. Every dirty work happened in the dark with no witnesses. Every skeleton was carefully placed in impregnable closets. So the authorities had no choice but to release him. 

The day of his release, you watched him on TV. How he gloated as the authorities let him go. How he enjoyed the many cameras filming him, taking pictures of him which would later surely spark many conversations in the media. He had always liked the attention. 

Even through the screen you could see it on his face. The arrogance, the smirks, the determined, proud look in his eyes like he was an unchallengeable monarch. He walked to his car, grinning like a king. He was, in many ways. A king in the darker side of life. 

Just then, your phone rang. It was an unknown number. You answered it with your heart racing, part of you already knew who was calling. 

“Hello?” You tried your hardest to sound as unbothered as possible. 

He chuckled from the other side of the call. “Hey princess, missed me?” 

You exhaled shakily, “Lando.” 

He scoffed, “You sound a little out of breath there, baby. Have you been watching me on TV?” He laughed. “You knew they could never keep me locked up for long, didn’t you princess? We talked about this, remember?” 

Oh. So he was doing the thing where he pretended that you two hadn’t had a big fight, said cruel things to each other and decided to go your separate ways. Yet again. 

“Why are you calling me?” You said, “We broke up, remember?” 

He sighed like he was annoyed, “Come on, princess. You know that wasn’t real, right?” He argued. “We were both tired and angry, and we didn’t mean it.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he said, “I’m coming over later, and then we’ll talk. Alright, princess? I can’t wait to see you.” 

With that he ended the call. And you were standing there in the middle of your apartment feeling confused. As always. 

When he comes over later, you thought, you’d set everything straight and break up with him for good this time. 

— 

Hours passed. 

You realised you shouldn’t just sit and wait for him. But you were anxious so you couldn’t do anything else other than wait. 

Later in the evening, three knocks at your door signalled that he was here. You stood there for a short while, fresh out of the shower and still in your fluffy robe as you stared at the door. You decided you were going to keep this short. 

He’d walk in, you’d talk, and then you’d ask him to leave. Right? Right. 

But then you opened the door. And there he was, in a fresh suit. His hair was a fluffy, curly mess. He smelt amazing. And that soft, puppy dog look in his blue-green eyes. 

“Hi princess,” He said, already walking in and shutting the door behind him, “I’ve missed you.” 

Your walls came crashing down instantly. You had your arms around him before you even realised it. Your face pushed into the crook of his neck as you shed a few tears and inhaled his familiar scent. Body wash and cologne. 

“I was so scared I would never see you again.” You found yourself mumbling against his skin as he backed you into the closest wall. 

He laughed as you pulled away to wipe your tears, “Babygirl,” He cooed, “You know that would never happen.” He cupped your teary face in his large hands and smiled at you. “Were you worried for me? Hmm?” 

You nodded. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. Soft lips against yours, you melted into him. Your back against the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair while he moaned shamelessly into the kiss… playfully biting your lips. 

“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” His hands wandered, undoing the knot at the front of your robe. He let out a strained groan when he finally felt your warm skin. He whispered between messy, hungry kisses, “Daddy missed you so much.” 

He pulled away to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips were now fuller. Fuck, he was your weakness. 

“Missed this mouth,” He whispered while tracing your lips with the tip of his finger. His mere touch was driving you insane. So much so that you dropped down to your knees even before he asked you to. 

Lando looked down at you with pride in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face. “That’s my good girl,” He said breathlessly, caressing your cheek gently as he watched you undo his zipper and pull down his briefs. 

His cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realised you’d missed him just as much. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips. 

Lando hissed in pleasure as you pushed him into your mouth, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him. 

“I missed your fucking mouth, babygirl…” 

He whispered your name under his breath, his hand holding your head and guiding you up and down his cock. His taste drove you crazy. As did the sounds which left his mouth.

You intended on making him come hard and fast. 

“Fuck…,” He moaned again, right before coming undone all over your tongue. “You did so good, princess.” 

You looked up at him, still kneeling on the cold floor. You’d missed this too. 

“Stand up,” He ordered. And when you did, he leaned in to kiss you again. Rougher this time, more demanding as he pulled you away from the wall and guided you over to your living room. He grabbed your face gently by the chin and said, “Can you go make daddy a drink, princess?” 

You nodded immediately. Lando smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before smacking you gently on the butt as you walked over to the mini bar to make him a drink. You watched him the whole time you poured his whiskey in a glass. 

You watched how he got rid of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white shirt and plopped down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked like he was at peace. So much so that you almost hesitated before you gently touched his face to get his attention. 

Lando smiled at you as he took the glass from you first, then pulled you onto his lap. Palms gently caressing his smooth chest, you admired your man. His beard seemed coarse you realised as you stroked his cheek. You wondered whether it would feel rougher in between your thighs. 

Judging by the smirk on his face, Lando thought of the same thing as he sipped on his drink. And his hooded eyes silently promised you ‘later’. His free hand rubbed up and down your exposed thigh, until he reached in between your legs. 

He shamelessly watched how his fingers softly rubbed your throbbing clit. You whimpered softly, grinding against his hand on his lap. 

“Who took care of you while I was away?” He asked. 

You knew what he meant. Jealous, territorial, over protective man that he was. 

“No one,” You answered, whining as he slid a finger inside you.

He swallowed all of the whiskey and leaned in to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, and all while slowly fingerfucking you he whispered along your collar bones, “If I find out someone touched you while I was gone I’m gonna do terrible,” He licked and bit your skin mid-sentence, “horrible things to them.” He left marks on your skin, marking his territory. “And I’ll make you watch.” 

You couldn’t help the unexpected giggle that escaped your lips. “No one touched me,” You assured him. “I took care of myself.” You added. 

Lando pulled away from your skin smirking like the handsome devil he was. “Yeah?” He insisted, “Show me how.” 

You gave him a shy smile. 

“Come on,” He said. “Show me how you touched yourself while I was away.” 

So you gave him a little show. Still on his lap as you touched yourself, like you did almost every night when he was gone. Even when you were angry at him, nothing else got you off like the memories of the moments you both spent under the covers.

Lando leaned back for a minute, his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs while he carefully followed your finger as it dipped in and out of your wet hole. His eyebrows furrowed everytime you moaned or let out a wanton gasp. 

He grabbed your thighs tightly each time he had to hold back from shoving your hands away to touch you. His shameless stare urged you to keep going. Lando was almost just as breathless as you were when you brought yourself to the edge, slowing down and not wanting to come just yet. 

“Please…” You murmured, removing your hand away and looking into his dangerously pretty eyes. “Please,” You begged again

He looked up at you and smirked. He knew what you wanted. You wanted him to make you come. His smug grin widened before he taunted, “Aww what is it, princess? Your fingers don’t feel as good as daddy’s?” He cooed, “Hmm? You want daddy to make you come, don’t you?” 

You nodded quickly. Lando just smirked and shook his head. Then before you knew it, you were being pushed down onto the couch. You laid on your back while he hovered above you. You could feel the metal chain around his neck just barely brushing against your chest. 

“It’s okay, babygirl.” He whispered, his face inches above yours. “Daddy’s here now.” He said before leaning in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts, licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.

Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “Missed you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down your chest. 

Within seconds his fingers found their way in between your legs again, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you. 

He asked, “Do your fingers feel this good, princess?” Lando leaned in again, and kissed along your jaw while his fingers stroked you gently. “I bet they don’t.” 

You whined and squirmed and you wanted more. You threw your head back and whined loudly, you felt your walls clench around his fingers. 

He smirked, feeling it too. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you princess?” he teased, chuckling darkly.

You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… “Look at you,” he whispered, kissing and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher. “So perfect for daddy.” 

He bit down on your neck as you squirmed, moaning shamelessly. 

“Come for me, babygirl.” 

You did. Welcoming the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a loud cry all over his fingers, coating them with your arousal and making him hiss and swear at the sight of you so beautifully dishevelled. 

He had missed this indeed. 

“You’re all mine,” Lando said. 

You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realise his mouth was on you again, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your legs, which were on each of his shoulders as his tongue tasting you shamelessly, eagerly. 

“Fuck,” He moaned against your wetness. The sound of it making you shiver. 

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your sensitive clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his messy, curly hair and tugged gently at his roots. 

“You taste so good, princess.”

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his faintly rough stubble rubbing against your soft skin. It burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good. 

“Fuck… Lando,” You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. 

“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” He whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.

“Come on, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.

“Please daddy,” You whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come?” 

His smirk meant that he was satisfied. “Of course you can, princess.” He murmured. “Come all over daddy’s tongue.” 

Lando got back to eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and came all over his face. 

The waves of pleasure which washed over you were so intense that you teared up as you came, grinding your hips against his waiting mouth. And Lando lapped up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough. 

When he finally pulled away to let you breath for a moment, he kissed your thighs, admiring the pretty mess that you were. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, princess,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All mine.” He had that feral look in his eyes. Shameless, and raw. Passionate, and unrestrained. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. “Get on your hands and knees.” He ordered. 

You did as he asked. You knelt on the couch, holding onto the back while he stood behind you surely admiring your ass as your back faced him. 

Lando trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers around your neck. He gripped your throat gently, and tightened his grip just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your clit, his fingers making you tremble.

You could feel his erection pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.

“Daddy missed this pussy, princess.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers teasing your clit until you were embarrassingly wet for him. “I know you missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you? Hmm?” 

You whined in response as his tongue licked along your neck. 

His hand gripped your throat, eliciting a loud moan out of you. “Answer me, babygirl.” He said. “Use your words and tell daddy you want his cock.” 

His fingers left your clit as he undid his trousers again, grabbed you by the hips and aligned his cock to your entrance. Pushing against it just enough to make you lose your mind but not enough. 

Damn him. He knew just what to do. How to play you to get you to do exactly what he wanted. You pushed back against him, desperately craving friction, as you whimpered, “Please daddy, I want your cock. Please…” 

He chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” He praised and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you with ease, earning a sinful moan out of you. 

Lando groaned as he filled you up entirely, your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly as you felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.

You were barely able to think straight. You’d missed him. You’d missed this way too much. Having him right now gave you a high you did not quite comprehend but you were grateful for it. 

“So fucking good… princess…” Lando spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was how good he felt, sliding in and out of you. His cock stretching you out each time he fit it snugly inside you. 

He felt it too. He relished the sounds your bodies made together. The careless moans he earned out of you, how wet and ready you were for him. How perfectly you clenched around his cock. Your soft, often loud, whimpers and his groans of pleasure. 

“I dreamt of this perfect, warm pussy the whole time I was locked up in there, you know that, princess?” Lando pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance. 

You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and you didn’t care. But fuck… his dirty mouth only made him hotter. 

“The only that kept me going was knowing that I’d come home to you and fuck you like this,” He whispered, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you almost shed tears again. 

Lando kept mumbling in the throes of pleasure, “Like you were made for me, for this cock…” He trailed off, moaning in that boyish way that only made you want to come harder. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, babygirl? Hmm?” 

Right there… you were tight on the edge, ready to let go…

But just as you were, he pulled out and flipped you around. You were on your back again, looking up at him. His roughness only turning you on even more. 

He smirked when he saw that look of uncontained desire on your face. “Not so easily, princess.” He chuckled. “Daddy spent all this time away from you. So it’s only fair that now you beg for my cock.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”

When he saw that you didn’t, his fingers wrapped around your throat once more. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”

Your lips parted as you gasped, giving in. You’d do anything for him you realised. 

 “Daddy please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I missed you so much, I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he began fucking you hard and fast again.

He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly. 

You stared into his eyes, tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. His messy hair, that dangerous way of his, his reckless nature, that annoying arrogance, his pride was his fatal flaw and yet… Oh fuck you loved him. 

Lando smirked, leaning in to whisper against your mouth, “Daddy loves you more, princess.” 

Well, guess you said it out loud then. 

“You belong to me, don’t you? Hmm?”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, daddy can I-” 

The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came all around his cock, moaning and squirming. Your fingers scratching his neck, your arms holding him tight like he was your lifeline. He was, in more ways than one. 

Lando moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again. “Fuck,” He groaned, his voice a little hoarser. “Fuck, princess.” He sighed, putting his whole body weight onto you for a moment. He nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses along your skin. 

You let him rest for a moment, mindlessly playing with his hair. You almost laughed thinking about how your initial plan was to kick him out of your life, forever. But deep down you knew, you could never get rid of Lando. 

No matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.

Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 

It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 

As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”

You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 

So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”

The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”

“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”

Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”

Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”

Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”

You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 

“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”

Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.

Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 

For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”

Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”

A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”

Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 

Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.

“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”

“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”

“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”

Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”

“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”

“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”

You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”

But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 

You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.

Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—

UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!

The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 

When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 

Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 

And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    

Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 

Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.

Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.

Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.

Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”

Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”

Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.

He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.

Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”

Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.

Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 

You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 

Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…

You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”

Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”

That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”

You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”

“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.

“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 

Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”

You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”

Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”

The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”

Part 2 coming 8/19!

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