#the voice of Atlantic City

[pickingupmymercedes]

Home is wherever you are - Lewis Hamilton

request: I was wondering after hearing Lewis saying that he is looking to going home after the Canadian gp. Can you write a sort piece of the agony he has in his voice and he just want to be in the arms of his loved one.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angsty, mentions of Mercedes fuck up, Canada 2024 and that post quali interview

wordcount: +1K

a/n: I've had this sitting in my drafts since Canada, but I wanted to wait a bit for things and the rumors to settle down before I reread it and posted. I'm still salty on that hard tyres at the end though.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The cheers of the Montreal crowd celebrating a Mercedes's pole echoed in Lewis' ears long after Qualy had ended. He had led every free practice session, feeling the car was finally locked in with him. But in Q3, something had been missing. Maybe it was luck, maybe a fraction of a second's hesitation. Whatever it was, it had cost him dearly.

P7. A miserable P7 after dominating practice all weekend.

He plastered a tired smile on his face for the cameras and interviews, his own disappointment evident in the lack of the usual glimpse to his eyes.

“What’s going on in your mind after that qualifying session?” one reporter asked, leaning in expectantly.

Lewis shrugged, trying to keep his composure. “Nothing much, just looking forward to going home,” he'd mumbled to the reporter's query about his thoughts, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew it was a curt response, but he couldn’t bring himself to elaborate. All he wanted was to escape the scrutiny, the forced smiles, and the disappointment that hung over.

Home, at least for that night though, was the hotel room that felt more like a business conference room these days, devoid of warmth or the one person who could chase away the guilty he felt for not leaving up to his own expectations.

Back in London, Y/n scrolled through post-quali highlights, her smile fading with each dejected clip of Lewis. He wasn't just disappointed, he looked defeated. A knot formed in her stomach, the all so familiar feeling of helplessness twisting with the protectiveness she always felt towards him.

9 pm. Ridiculous, she knew, but the need to hold him, to be around him, was an urge she couldn't ignore.

"On the first flight out," she typed furiously, the message a lifeline thrown across the Atlantic. "There in 10 hours, tops. Around 2 am, your time"

The phone buzzed to life almost immediately. Lewis' voice, sharp with disbelief, echoed in her ear. "Y/n, are you insane? It's the middle of the night for you!"

"Doesn't matter" she cut him off, shoving clothes into a duffel bag. "I'm coming. Just... don't argue."

The next hour was a blur of packing, the phone pressed tight against her ear as Lewis argued, pleaded, then finally relented with a weary sigh. By the time she boarded the plane, the weight of exhaustion had settled in, but the worry for him was still deeply rooted.

The 9-hour flight felt like an eternity. Touching down in Montreal, she hailed a cab, the city still wrapped in the pre-dawn darkness. At the hotel, her heart hammered against her ribs as she used the spare key the hotel provided, the beep of the door lock seemingly taking longer than normally.

Three a.m. The monotonous hum of the air conditioner was broken by the door creaking open, Lewis propped on one elbow at the bed, his eyes looking tired and a bit sunken.

Before he could understand what was happening, she rushed forward, engulfing him in a tight hug. The familiar scent of his aftershave and the warmth of his body flooded her. He stiffened for a moment, then melted into her embrace, burying his face in her hair.

"You shouldn't have come" he mumbled; his voice thick with sleep.

"Had to." she whispered, stroking a hand down his back. They stayed in each other’s arms, the only light coming from the bedside table, a silent language passing between them, a comfort only they could offer each other.

Finally, he pulled back, hesitantly sitting up on the bed. The suite was grand but cold, much like it always used to be, only this time it also happened to mirror the emptiness in his eyes.

He waited for her to strip from her clothes and pull one of his discarded t-shirt over her head before gesturing for her to join him. The silence stretched once she took him in her arms, thick with unspoken questions and a heavy feeling of disappointment.

"Quali," she finally ventured, her voice soft.

He let out a humorless laugh. "Bottled it. Again."

"C’mom" she countered, her voice firm. "It happens, Lewis. Even to the best."

He looked at her, his eyes raw with a vulnerability he rarely showed the world. "Again, and again?! Maybe this was my real only shot this year."

The weight of his words settled on her like a lead blanket. This wasn't just about a bad qualifying session; this was about a season slipping through his fingers, about the gnawing fear that that was probably how the end of his years with Mercedes would be like.

The pressure, the constant fight to live up to expectations, it was a burden he carried mostly alone, a burden that threatened to crush him.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't offer him a magic solution, couldn't guarantee a win. But she could, at the very least, offer him a safe harbor, a haven from the storm.

"I just don’t understand" he said after a while, his voice raw with emotion. "I felt so good about the car all weekend."

"I know," she replied softly. "You did everything you could. Sometimes, things just don’t go our way, no matter how much we want them to."

He sighed, pressing his face closer to her. "It feels like I’ve let everyone down. The team, the fans... myself mostly."

"You haven’t let anyone down," Y/n insisted. "You’ve given it your all, like you always do. That’s what matters. And no one who truly cares about you would think any less of you for it."

Scooting closer, she took his hand in hers, the warmth a meagre offering against the chill that had settled over him. "You're one of the best drivers on that sport, Lewis. And you know that."

He squeezed her hand, his gaze flickering with a flicker of defiance. “That’s not enough. You know how it goes, we’re only as good as our last race."

"Then you keep going because you’re Lewis Hamilton," she said firmly. "You’ve faced tougher challenges than this, and you’ve always come out stronger. There will be other races, and you’ll have more chances." She cupped his face, her thumb tracing the worry lines etched around his forehead. "I believe in you and you need to believe in yourself again. Remember why you started. Remember why we watch you race."

His gaze softened, but his mind still seemed lost in thought. He leaned into her touch, a silent plea for the belief she always seemed to possess. "I’ll always be here to remind you of that" she promised, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You’re not alone in this, Lew. Not ever."

The race day dawned grey and damp, mirroring Lewis' mood. The strategy meeting was tense and when the decision for the strategy was announced, a flicker of doubt crossed Lewis' face on using those hard tires.

The race itself was far from normal as usual, the ever thread of rain, the chaotic pit stops and strategies. Lewis fought his way through the pack, competition momentarily pushing the doubts aside. But at the end a “free pitstop” he wasn’t considering had him emerge on hards – a strategic decision that left him to fight even more with the car and potently lose on all the pace he had been building.

Lewis' blood ran cold. It felt like a betrayal, a deliberate attempt to stop any chances of fighting for the podium with him trapped on the slower tyres. He crossed the finish line in P4, the roars a distant echo in his ears.

Back at the hotel, Y/n watched, with an aching hear, how he couldn’t hide his disappointments to the media, his face a mask of controlled frustration almost letting loose.

Later that night, as the cities lights twinkled outside their plane heading to Los Angeles, Y/n pulled out her phone. "Look," she said, handing it to Lewis.

The screen buzzed with tweets and comments, the familiar #TeamLH trending worldwide. Messages of support, fans and commentators alike dissecting the race strategy, and vowing that Lewis had the pace to fight for that podium.

"They got your back. And I fear they’re not leaving." Y/n said softly, squeezing his hand with a soft chuckle. “I told you, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got an army of supporters who believe in you, just like I do.”

He leaned in and kissed her, feeling some of the weight of the day a bit lighter on his shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.” his voice hoarse but laced with love. "We'll come back stronger next time. But before that, Roscoe’s waiting for us in California"

Y/n smiled, her heart brimming with pride for the man beside her. Home wasn't just a place, it was a feeling. And in each other’s arms, their home could be found even across the Atlantic.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

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If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[chlorinecake]

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

[hereforhalstead]

home.

Spencer Reid x reader fluff!

thank you SO much for the love on my first post, I’m so glad you liked it! Ill be honest, I started this with a completely different plot in mind but, here we are! Enjoy!

*****

5 days. That’s all it had been, but to him it felt like a lifetime. 

The more he thought about it, he realised, it was the longest you’d ever been apart.

You’d been asked to stay for a week in London with Garcia and Morgan to assist on a case that Emily so lovingly emailed over late last week. 

One minute it simply words on a screen in your inbox, the next you knew you were on a plane over the Atlantic.

Every night you and Spencer had spent as much time as possible on the phone, some evenings only getting 5 minutes but others being hours. But it still wasn’t enough.

You missed him. More than ever.

The case was tough and starting to take its toll on you, it felt never ending and you started to wonder when you’d actually be able to return to the place you called home.

The truth is, London was your actual home. Being born and raised there until your early 20s when you transferred over to the BAU unit and the rest was history.

Yes, it was nice to be back in familiar territories. Moaning about tourists blocking the pavements, stopping every 2 minutes to take photos of a bird sitting on a fence..

 The god awful weather still going strong as you were now on your 5th day of rain, wondering if you would actually see a glimpse of sun before you left.

But home wasn’t London anymore, it was wherever Spencer was. 

And he wasn’t here. 

****

You’d taken the papers back to your hotel room, the sheets all spread across the floor in a disorganised manner yet you still knew where everything was and that worked for you.

You were still in the same clothes that you had put on about 26 hours ago, cold coffee in hand, staring at the black text on the papers as if the answer would just jump out at you if you continued to do so.

Your phone ringing is what brought you out of your trance, letting out a loud yawn before answering it.

“How’s my favourite girl?”

Was all he said and it had you melting, bringing your knees to your chest as you leant back onto the bed.

“Hey Spence” you mumbled back, you could practically hear his smile on the other end of the line forming, just at the sound of your voice. 

“What time is it there?” You added 

“about 2 ish” 

Shit. That meant it was 6am for you, and you didn’t even realise. 

High praise for the blackout curtains in the room I suppose.

“And you’re still awake?” Your voice was sturn

“So are you?” He hit back. Fair play.

“I could’ve just woken up, you don’t know”

But he did. He knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“This is me you’re talking to baby, do you want me to hang up and ring back so you can see my name on the screen again?” 

Again, you could practically see how he would be sitting. Arm folded across his chest, either book still open in one hand or a hot cup of tea hooked onto his thumb. Smile as big as could be.

“Point taken” you mumbled 

“Tell me about your day” he was quick to respond, you hated yourself for how there was a quick second of the feeling that you couldn’t be bothered. 

You were exhausted and missing him.

You didn’t want to be talking to him over the phone about the same thing you’d been discussing with endless people all day. 

You wanted to be back at home, enveloped in his arms as he pulls you back into him as you try to leave the bed.

Or running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair as he tells you yet another fact about how despite its significance, London was actually the smallest city in the UK.

You missed the little things, you missed him.

“Y/N?” His voice broke the silence as you sighed, words leaving your lips before you had a chance to even process them 

“I miss you, Spencer” 

There was yet another pause, almost a huff coming from his end of the line as he replied

“I miss you too, sweetheart” 

“Spence, honestly I’m drained” you began to ramble 

“I’ve been staring at these same pieces of paper for days, I’m starting to think I’m just wasting their time being here”

He could hear you throw some of the documents onto the floor, bringing your hand to your forehead to relieve some of the tension.

“He’s killed 5 women since I’ve been here Spencer, 5. How useless am I that these women are literally depending on me and here i am, failing them” 

He was hurting, he was hurting because you were hurting. 

“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that” he assured, you could feel tour bottom lip quiver as the tears formed in your eyes 

“You know they asked you to be over there for a reason, you’re good at your job. You deserve to be there with the best of them and don’t forget that” 

“But I do-“ you tried to cut him off but he was quick to interject “uh uh”

“I will stay on this phone with you until you can tell me you’re good at your job, I don’t care how long it takes, Y/N. I want to hear you say it”

“What about if I don’t say if, just to get you to stay on the phone with me?” You lightly chuckled, heart fluttering as you hear his huff of laughter you so dearly missed.

“I mean, I have to be on the jet in 6 hours so if you’re happy for the whole team to hear our conversation then that works for me”

“Spence, I just feel as though I’m losing my mind. Tell me what I’m missing” you almost pleaded, knowing that if he was here he probably would have this case solved by now and back on the plane home. 

“You know the most important thing? Honestly, it’s what I do all the time and it truly does work”

You sat up in hope, waiting to hear his groundbreaking methods of solution.

“Sleep, Y/N”

You huffed, returning to your hunched back, cross legged position of defeat.

“That’s not fair” you scorned, his light laugh flooding through your ears “I thought you were actually about to help” 

“I mean it sweetheart, you can’t give your best to something on no sleep. I’m worried about you and if I can’t be there to look after you, I need to know that you’re looking after you” 

His words hurt, you knew he was worried but never thought he would just come right out and tell you.

“Fine” you huffed, crooking your neck to keep the phone in place at your ear as you start to get undressed.

“I’ll have a quick shower and then I’ll get into  bed” you assured “then I’ll text you in the morning with how many hours sleep I had”

You waited to hear his laugh but there was nothing.

“Can I ju-“ his tone was filled with doubt, like he was second guessing what he was about to say 

You let the line go quiet, waiting for him to finish his thoughts 

“Can I just stay on the phone with you?” 

You felt as though your legs could give way at the pain in his voice, the desperation to just have more time with you had you filling with guilt.

“Of course, Spence”

There was a hum of happiness and content, practically seeing how he slumped back into the headboard of the bed in the comfort of your words

“Why don’t you tell me about your day?” You questioned, giving up on the idea of the shower as you climbed into bed

“Oh! Funny story actually. Hotch had….”

There it was, the voice of such piece and familiarity that you so badly missed. 

He was your home.

[driverlando]

🎶 & Carlos

Church (Chase Atlantic) ── Carlos Sainz jr x reader ✧.*

The night was quiet, the soft hum of the city outside barely reaching Carlos’s bedroom as you stood before him, wearing nothing but his oversized T-shirt. The fabric hung loosely on your frame, teasing him with glimpses of skin as you moved. His eyes were fixed on you, dark with desire, and you could feel the heat between you growing more intense with every passing second.

Carlos stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “you’re making it hard to keep my thoughts clean” The tension between you was electric, and you felt a thrill of anticipation as he let his hand trail down your neck, his touch sending shivers through your body.

Without another word, Carlos guided you down onto the soft carpet, his hands firm but gentle as he positioned you on your knees. The feel of the carpet beneath you was grounding, but the way he looked at you—like he was ready to devour you—had your heart racing. He grabbed a pillow from the bed, slipping it under your knees with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the dark hunger in his eyes.

“Better?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he studied your face, his expression softening for just a moment.

You nodded, your mouth going dry with anticipation as your hands reached for the waistband of his trousers. Carlos’s breath hitched as you freed him from the fabric, his cock hard and ready, and you couldn’t help but smirk as you looked up at him, savouring the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against him softly before you took him into your mouth, starting slow, teasing him just enough to make him groan. His hand tangled in your hair, not forcing but guiding, and the low growl that escaped his lips sent a thrill through your body.

Carlos’s control was slipping, his hips starting to move in time with your mouth, pushing deeper as you took him in, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down again. The sounds he made—low, guttural moans—spurred you on, and you picked up the pace, hollowing your cheeks as you worked him harder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his grip on your hair tightening as his head fell back, eyes closed in pure pleasure. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, his breathing growing more erratic with each passing second.

Carlos looked down at you, the sight of you on your knees for him, eyes closed as you focused entirely on his pleasure, driving him wild. He couldn’t hold back any longer, thrusting into your mouth with a need that had been building all night. “That’s it,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he felt himself nearing the edge. “Just like that.”

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tightened as he held back, not wanting the moment to end just yet. But the way you sucked him off—relentless, determined, and so damn good—pushed him over the edge. With a deep, throaty moan, Carlos came, his release filling your mouth as you continued to suck, milking him for everything he had.

He pulled you up, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was all heat and passion, tasting himself on your tongue as he deepened the kiss. Without breaking contact, he guided you onto the bed, his body covering yours as he pressed you into the mattress.

“Now it’s your turn,” Carlos murmured against your lips, his hands already sliding up your thighs, parting them as he positioned himself between your legs. The night was far from over, and as the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, you knew Carlos was going to make sure you were both utterly spent by the time the sun came up.

[writingwithciara]

wanna be -nico hischier-

summary: knowing he can't be her first boyfriend, nico wants to be the first for everything else. but does y/n feel the same?

word count: 2.2k

pairings: nico hischier x reader

notes:

masterlist

"nico, i just don't understand what i did wrong this time." y/n's voice came out as strangled sobs through the speakers in nico's car.

"nothing. you did nothing wrong." nico assured her as he looked out the window. he slowed to a stop just outside y/n's apartment building and waited. "come down and we can go for a ride. i know that always cheers you up."

"i'll be down in a minute." she sniffled and grabbed her hoodie. she made sure to wipe her eyes, even though nico already knew she was crying.

nico waited by the passenger door for y/n and when he saw her, he helped her get in before going back to the driver's seat.

"so, where are we driving to?"

"out of town for a few nights, if that's okay with you."

"i don't have anything packed."

"don't you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. i have an old practice jersey and some sweats you can borrow for the night. and i'll take you shopping in the morning." he glanced at her and smiled.

"okay." she let a smile creep onto her face. "so now that i know we're going out of town, where exactly are we going?"

"atlantic city." he smiled and handed her the aux cord. if there was anything he had learned over the past few years of knowing her, it was that when she was upset, she liked to pick the music.

"why atlantic city?"

"well i was already going to go there for a few days. in fact, i was almost out of town when you called me."

"oh. didn't mean to interrupt your fun." she sulked.

"nonsense. if anything, you being here made it fun. seriously, who goes to atlantic city alone?"

"guys who need to get laid, i guess." she glanced over at him. "wait, was that what you were planning?"

"what? no. don't be ridiculous." he chuckled, but y/n wasn't buying it. "okay fine. maybe i was hoping for it a little bit. but it wasn't my main goal."

"don't let me stop you from having your fun, then." she smiled and got more comfortable in her seat. "in fact, i think i might try to find someone too. god knows i could use it."

"what do you mean?"

"it means i'm a 24 year old virgin, nico. i've had like 2 boyfriends my entire life and only 1 freaking kiss. how pathetic is that?"

"i don't think it's pathetic at all."

"you don't have to be nice about it. i know it's weird."

"okay, maybe a little." he stopped at a light. "but weird is good. if everyone was normal, the world would be boring."

"oh how i love your never ending optimism." she turned slightly in her seat to face him. "thank you, by the way. you're the only person i know who would go out of their way to come rescue me, even if you had plans."

"priorities, dove." he reached for her hand and smiled a little to himself when she squeezed his in return.

the rest of the drive to atlantic city was mostly silent. but when nico got closer to the hotel, he broke the silence & scared y/n.

"so i know you told me you didn't want to spend another moment thinking about that asshole, but i can tell that he's on your mind right now and i want to know if there's anything i can do to make you forget about him."

"nico, you're sweet. really you are. but there's only one thing i need right now and that's to go soak in a tub for an hour."

"okay. hot tub or bathtub?"

"whatever one works. i would like some company though so i'm hoping there's a hot tub."

"it's atlantic city. i'm sure there is a hot tub. but if not, i booked a suite so the tub in the bathroom is about the size of a hot tub. we could just wear our swimsuits in there."

"oh crap. i don't have a swimsuit."

"then when we get to the hotel, i'll run a bath for you and while you're relaxing, i'll go down to the shop and pick one out for you."

"nico, you don't have to go through all this trouble for me."

"that's what friends are for, right? to cheer their other friends up?"

"you're right." she smiled and got out of the car when he parked. he grabbed his bag and looked at her.

"so, relaxing tonight and shopping tomorrow?"

"you bet." y/n waited for nico to check in and when he got the key, she followed him into the elevator.

"before i forget, there's a king size bed. you can have it. there's also a couch & for this trip, i will be sleeping there."

"nico, we have shared a bed before. an even smaller bed, might i add. so sharing a king should be a piece of cake."

"okay, fair point." nico chuckled. when the elevator opened up to their floor, nico let y/n exit first. he followed her to their room and he unlocked the door.

the room was way bigger than nico anticipated. he watched as y/n walked over to the balcony doors. she opened them and stepped outside.

"this is beautiful, nico." she breathed in the fresh air and nico admired the way her hair flowed in the breeze. he didn't want to admit it but he knew he was attracted to his best friend. always had been.

he just didn't want to say anything because he knew she wouldn't reciprocate the feelings.

he must've zoned out because before he knew it, y/n was waving her hand in his face. he chuckled and looked back out at the city.

"and he's back." she smiled and leaned against the railing beside him. "what were you thinking about?"

"the breathtaking view." he glanced over at her. "sorry about that, by the way."

"it's alright, neeks." y/n looked at him. "so, i noticed there was a hot tub. wanna go down and sit in it for a bit with me?"

"yeah, sure." nico pushed himself away from the railing and paused at the door. "we need to get you something to wear though."

"oh, right. i completely forgot about that." she scratched her arm. "maybe we should just stay in tonight then."

"are you sure?" he looked back at her and she nodded. "well, if that's what you want, i can still run that bath for you and you can relax in there for a bit."

"thank you, nico." y/n sat on the edge of the bed and waited as nico went into the bathroom and ran the bath water.

"hey y/n?"

"yeah?"

"rose blossom or lavender sugar?"

"rose blossom, i guess." she picked at her finger nails and waited until she heard the water turn off. nico walked out of the room and saw her picking at her fingers.

"you alright?" he asked calmly

"what?" she stood up and walked towards him. "yeah. i'm fine." she walked into the bathroom and started taking her clothes off.

"i'm gonna go down to the shop to see if i can find a swimsuit for you. are you good here by yourself?" nico asked through the closed door.

"yes. thank you nico." she smiled and leaned her head against the side of the tub.

30 minutes later, y/n was slowly drifting off to sleep but was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

"you alright in there?"

"yeah. just relaxed and a little sleepy."

"why don't you get out of the tub and get into some comfy clothes? we can watch a movie and fall asleep."

"okay. i'll be out in a minute." she started climbing out of the tub and when she grabbed a towel, she realized she didn't have anything to change into. "um, nico?"

"yes, sweetheart?"

"i don't have anything to wear tonight."

"got my jersey and some sweats for you out here. want me to bring them to you?"

"yeah. just one second." she wrapped herself in the towel just in time for nico to open the door. he was holding the clothes in one hand and covering his eyes with the other. "thank you." y/n smiled as she took the clothes from nico. "i'll be out in a minute."

nico closed the door and went back to the bed. he flipped through netflix and found a movie he knew y/n loved. when she finally came out of the bathroom, nico tried his best to not stare at her but with the way his old practice jersey hung off her body, he couldn't help but admire her. he also found it a little funny that his sweatpants were incredibly loose on her and she had to hold them up as she climbed onto the bed. she struggled a little bit so nico held her arm to help.

"there you go." he chuckled when she wiggled herself under the blanket.

"oh, this is comfy." y/n pulled the blanket tighter, causing nico to laugh again.

"you look so adorable." nico tapped the edge of her nose and she glared over at him. her face immediately turned red and she tried to hide it.

"thank you."

"you're welcome." he turned back to the tv and pressed play.

sixteen candles

"oh, you remembered my favorite movie."

"of course i did." he smiled and opened his arms. he started second guessing his decision but when y/n made herself comfortable against him, he held her close.

as the movie played, y/n watched it intently but nico's attention stayed on her the entire time. he twirled some of her hair between his fingers and and with the other arm, he slowly stroked up and down her arm. she sighed with content and turned to look up at him.

"thank you for tonight, nico. i really needed to relax and let off some steam."

"hey. no problem. i love helping you. and if anyone deserves to let off some steam, it's you."

without warning, y/n leaned up and kissed him. but just as quickly as it started, it ended. she pulled away from him and put a little distance between them.

"oh my god. i am so sorry. i just got caught up in the moment and i just....i'm so sorry." she put her head in her hands and was not prepared for what came next.

nico gently picked her up and placed her on his lap. "you do not need to apologize, y/n. especially not for kissing me." he looked at her lips and chuckled lightly. "you're so effortlessly perfect."

"i'm really not." she hid her face with her hair and nico moved it out of the way.

"yes, you are. and i know the reason you don't believe it is because the 2 guys you dated before, and every other guy in your life made you feel that way. but it's true. you're so incredibly beautiful and you have the biggest heart of anyone i know. why nobody has realized this, is beyond my understanding. but if i have to spend the rest of my life trying to make you see how special you are, then i'll do that."

"really?"

"yeah." he whispered softly and looked up at her. before she could reject the idea, nico closed the gap between them and kissed her. it started slow and passionate but quickly escalated. intensity flowed between them as their tongues battled against each other.

y/n pulled away and swiftly removed the jersey from her body. when she noticed nico staring at her, she leaned back a little more. "i-is this okay with you?"

"of course. but only if you're comfortable with it."

"you're the only person i'm comfortable with." she leaned back in to kiss him passionately. nico's hands moved up and down her sides as she continued to press herself into him.

neither of them could believe what they were about to do, but it was obvious they both wanted it more than they've wanted anything else in their lives.

as they shed the rest of their clothes, the event that started off sweet and slow quickly turned passionate and intense. y/n may have had doubts about being a virgin at 24, but now she's glad she waited. to her, there was no one more perfect to lose it to than the man she trusted with her entire life.

after an intense hour, they collapsed on the bed. the breath leaving both of them at a rapid pace.

y/n turned to face nico and smiled. "wow. that was...perfect. thank you nico."

"if anything, i should be thanking you."

"really? why's that?"

"that was the best sex i've ever had. hard to believe it was your first time."

"r-really?" y/n couldn't help but blush at his comment. "you really know how to make a girl feel special."

"i love you." nico blurted out. "i always have and i think it's pretty obvious now."

"yes. i would say so." she giggled and kissed him softly. "in case it's not obvious enough at this point, i love you too."

"good." nico moved the hair from her face and smiled. "i'm going to take you on a real date when we get back home."

"looking forward to it." y/n climbed back on top of him and kissed him again. and again. and again.

to the both of them, the night couldn't get anymore perfect.

[mysunshinetemptress]

How long till I see Heaven

Leah Williamson x cowgirl!reader

Warnings: None

You return to the Ranch and back to work like you had never even caught a glimpse of the heaven that was Leah, as she returned to England and back to training for the upcoming England features back to training mode no distractions no cowgirls.

The one thing you both had in common though was every waking moment you couldn't stop thinking of the other and the short time you both shared. Yet it's months later when Leah sees a glimpse of you, Leah scrolled through Instagram mindlessly. Training for the upcoming features had her in a focused frenzy. Then, a sudden stop. There you were, grinning alongside Mitch, both caked in red dust, your hand resting casually on his shoulder, with Dakota wrapped in Mitches arms: "Congratulations to this buckaroo on another win! Thank you Y/n/n for being his rock and keeping him safe out there!"

A laugh, sharp and humourless, escaped Leah's lips. Safe? You, with your gentle eyes and calloused hands, had become the most dangerous thing in her world. A world that had shrunk to the confines of the training gym and the echoing emptiness of her flat. Every burpee, every lift, was fueled by a phantom memory - your laugh under the Nashville sky, the brush of your fingers as you'd passed her a beer.

The ache in her chest intensified. Months had crawled by since Leah had boarded the plane back to England. Reality had slammed shut, leaving the Nashville summer a bittersweet memory. She'd thrown herself into training, but the fire that once fueled her competitive spirit felt like a dying ember.

With trembling fingers, Leah tapped the comments section. Hundreds of congratulations poured in, but her eyes snagged on yours. A single, short comment: "Always a team. Time to head home and get ready for the next one." A team. The word sent a jolt through her. You weren't just a fleeting memory; you had a life, a purpose, a team. And she was just a passing ship for god sake you guys only spent a few hours together, she shouldn't be this hung up on you.

Leah stared at the screen, the weight of your comment settling in her gut. A team. It was true, you weren't some fantasy she'd conjured. You had a life, a world that existed far beyond that whirlwind Nashville night. Shame burned hot in her cheeks. Here she was, pining over a girl she barely knew, clinging to a few stolen moments.

A tiny spark flickered amidst the embers of her dulled spirit. "Time to head home and get ready for the next one." Your words echoed. Maybe that was what she needed too. Not just physically returning to England, but rediscovering the fire within herself, the one that had propelled her to the top.

Taking a deep breath, Leah pushed away from the phone. She wouldn't let this consume her. She couldn't a few hours in your presence wouldn't have her falling so hard, it shouldn't have her falling so hard.

Meanwhile, on the ranch, your phone buzzed with a notification. A new comment on Mitch's win post. A simple emoji - a single burning flame. It was from Leah, and a thrill shot through you. Leah was watching.

The next few weeks were a blur of focused training on both sides of the Atlantic. You were doing your daily ranch jobs with your father's ranch hands while helping Mitch train in your downtime Leah rediscovered the joy of the game, her passes sharper, her shots more powerful.

It had been months since the two of you had talked, months since you had seen Leah's face in person let alone heard her voice but, you hadn't expected to open Instagram to a message request from her. "Fancy coming to watch a football match."

You hesitate for a moment, replaying her comment and the burning flame emoji in your mind. You wrestle with conflicting emotions. Should you respond? She's giving you a chance to see her again.

As the week drags on with no response from you Leah begins to doubt if she should have ever sent the message but with England set to play a friendly in Kansas City against the USA the thought of possibly getting to see you again had driven her actions.

You take another two days to respond "Is it actual football or that thing you call soccer."

Leah laughs relief flooding her sense at your response "Rude, will you still come if it's my version."

You can't help but smile at your phone sitting on the side of the ring as Mitch gets thrown off the young stallion you're both trying to break in.

"I don't know the rules." Leah laughs out loud in front of her international teammates and best friends "What you laughing at." Georgia moves trying to see Leah's phone screen "No one just trying to sort out who is getting tickets for our upcoming US game." Georgia looks at Leah trying to read her before turning back to Lucy.

"All you have to know is you want me to win." You smile at the screen as Mitch shouts at you from the ground "Alright give me that your turn to get thrown."

You don't get to respond as he takes your phone pushing you towards the stallion before looking down at your screen and smiling "Alright I'll come, but I'm going to need a ticket for Mitch."

[crackerzaf]

Oh yeah, it's my favorite time when I get to obsess over my hc about when Alastor was alive

I like the idea that Alastor's father, Francois, stayed with his mother, Myrtle, until Alastor was six years old. However, Francois eventually left because the prospect of raising and witnessing the growth of his "ultimate sin" terrified him. Alastor's parents were heavily Christian, especially Francois

(Francois and Myrtle have a very toxic and complicated relationship)

(His parent's back story)

So my idea is that when Alastor was 16, he was already being told he needed to start working as a farm hand or at a factory anything to pay bills. Alastor didn't want to. He wanted more to his life than sugar cane's and oil rigs. He told his mother about how he dreamed of being more than just another man living in New orleans. Myrtle understood but she knew a woman of her time and place she wasn't going to be able to give him that. So she reached out to Francois and she miraculously manged to convince him to let Alastor study up in New York with him.

Although Alastor was excited to move to the far glamorous and larger city, he still didn't like Francois, and when he arrived there, Francois made sure Alastor blended in with high society after all this was a risky thing to do for Alastor inviting Alastor into a world that would so easily destroy him.

And even though Alastor learned so much from being upstate, the unbridled hatred he had for Francois never left they would get into arguments and although Alastor could get a few hits in ultimately Francois would win and he wasn't afraid to remind Alastor that as easily as he gave him an in he could send him back in to nothing.

In my hc I think the reason why Francois took him in was because deep down he truly did want Alastor to be his son, but he can't let himself because he thinks if admitting that he shows any form of sympathy or empathy for Alastor would be him acknowledging his sins that his religion so staunchly disagree with. So I think he just hits him till he feels as though he’s lulled the demons away.

Side notes I just wanted to point out.

Alastor only got glasses after he started to live with his dad, his mom knew he needed them but she could never afford to buy him a pair.

When Alastor was living with his dad he learned about the mid atlantic accent and started adopting that as his normal voice

More to come later… god I love thinking about these hc au ideas I have for alastor and his family it’s so fun 🤩

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

So Much For, Dumb College Love

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Some souls are meant for each other and some aren’t.

Word count: 3.3k

The finale is here guys…I’m so proud of this story and am so happy that you guys love it! I hope this is all you guys hoped for, these two will forever hold a special spot in my heart<3

—

After a grueling week, working on one of the most challenging and traumatic cases you’ve encountered since you started half a year ago, the team decided to unwind with some drinks at their favorite dive bar - The Diamond. Tucked away on a quiet corner, the place is smaller than most bars, with just a jukebox to fill the air with nostalgic tunes.

The ambiance is calming but also lively, with the sound of laughter and chatter blending in seamlessly. The dim lights cast a warm glow, making everyone feel comfortable and at ease, as if they have found their own little sanctuary in the bustling city.

As you all sit around a table, the weight of the week slowly lifts off everyone's shoulders. Laughter fills the air as stories are shared and jokes, finding solace in each other's company. In this moment, surrounded by good company and good vibes, you feel grateful for them all and for the simple pleasure of being together in this hidden gem of a bar.

The bartender, Josie, is a gorgeous young woman they have come to know well and absolutely love; her radiant smile and effortless charm always make your heart skip a beat. With a flick of her wrist, she expertly pours out your favorite concoction, a Jack & Coke, the perfect balance of sweet and fiery that never fails to soothe your soul.

Especially after cases.

As you take the first sip, the cool liquid slides down your throat, and you can’t help but marvel at how Josie always seems to know exactly what you need. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting buzz of the bar and the soft murmur of familiar voices, even with all the disasters you and your team endure, this is the life you want.

The dimly lit bar provides a cozy sanctuary where you can forget about the horrors of the case, if only for a few hours. After a second drink, the team finds themselves opening up about their fears and struggles, forging a stronger bond in the process.

“Alright,” Garcia slams the last of her drink, “Enough dark nasty talk! What’s everyone’s plans for the weekend?” She’s never been one to keep up with the unhuman behaviors the rest of the team can, which is perfectly normal - and necessary. Sometimes you and the others can get caught up in the sad side of reality, when there’s so much more to life.

While J.J talks about how she’s going out with her two boys this weekend to her moms, you can’t help but notice the small glares from Aaron, the tension thick in the air. The conversation then moves to Emily, who says she’s going to Atlantic City tomorrow early afternoon and hints at her ‘Sin To Win’ weekend. You can’t help the small cheer that leaves your mouth before you chug the last bit of liquor and soda, clinking glasses with the girls while the guys chuckle to themselves.

But with a flash of light Derek, the observant one and jokester in the group, notices the brief glances between you and Aaron, he can’t resist commenting, "Love birds…will you two just give it up already?"

Suddenly, with the attention being brought to you guys, you can’t help but laugh at Derek, a genuine but terrified laugh. Then, you and Aaron exchange a sheepish smile, the air between you crackled with unspoken attraction, nerve-wracking more than anything. Laughter bubbles up, masking the underlying meaning, but the rest of the team observes, sensing a shift in the dynamics between you two but brushing off the fact of it all.

What began as a mature decision to work together now seems to be evolving into something deeper, more stirring. With each shared glance and lighthearted banter, it becomes increasingly clear that there’s a spark between you that refuses to be ignored - ever since the unplanned kiss. The realization dawns on everyone present, prompting knowing looks and whispered conversations.

As the night wears on, the playful teasing continues, but this time with a hint of something more meaningful. Perhaps the weekend drinks have let some of the team let their tongues loose more than normal, which you really don’t mind but you just wish that topic would change.

The main concern being that Derek saw you and Aaron kiss that night in Aaron’s office a few months ago. He hasn't treated you any differently besides making jokes here and there about you and Aaron, a lot like how Garcia and him do. It's not any of Derek’s business right now, especially when you don’t even know what the kiss means.

You try to push the thought to the back of your mind, focusing on work and daily tasks. But every time Derek cracks a joke or gives you a knowing look, you feel a pang of guilt and confusion. Was the kiss just a moment of impulse, or does it signify something more between you and Aaron?

You can’t help from the memory of the warm, familiar kiss from Aaron a few months ago lingering in your mind, you just can’t stop thinking about it or him. The music loud, the atmosphere vibrant, but all you can do is look at Aaron. The moment replays over and over, like a record.

You had longed to feel his touch again after a decade of separation, but now that he’s your boss, everything feels different. The forbidden nature of your desires adds a layer of complexity to your relationship. But it somehow makes you want more.

“Well,” Aaron announces, slamming the last of his scotch followed by the sound of the glass on the table, “I’m going to head home, you guys enjoy the rest of the night.”

The table erupts in sarcastic boo’s as Hotch backs out after just a couple of drinks, a familiar sight for you and everyone else. Despite his tough exterior, Hotch was always the first to leave after difficult cases.

It makes you wonder if he carries the weight of these cases heavier than the rest, or if he simply needs a break from the relentless demands of their job. Perhaps both reasons rang true in their own way.

As you watch him slip away into the night, a sense of understanding washes over you. In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, sometimes the strongest ones need a moment of solitude to process it all.

“Bye man!” Derek raises his glass with a tipsy smile on his lips.

“Drive safe!” Your tone is a mix of giggles and seriousness, the liquor making you more bold than normal, but you instantly regret it.

The last thing you want is for the team to think you’re obsessed or pining over Aaron, even though you are, they don’t need to know that. The ache of unspoken affections weigh on you as you watch Emily and Garcia giggle at you as they take a sip of their beverages, you wish you could turn back time and keep your feelings hidden.

—

Stumbling towards Aaron's apartment, you feel disoriented and confused as the world spins around you in a hazy blur. You have no recollection of how you got here, or why you are in such a drunken state.

The memories from earlier in the night are fuzzy, but you vaguely remember drinking with Emily and Derek, the last remaining ones of the night. Flashes of laughter and camaraderie float through your mind, mingling with the haze of alcohol.

You drunkenly giggle to yourself while slightly bouncing from wall to wall down the hallway, making sure to miss apartment doors. Your blurry vision adds to the challenge, but you're determined to reach his apartment no matter what.

Each bounce brings a wave of laughter, echoing through the quiet corridor. The dim hallway lights flicker above, casting shadows that dance along the walls.

You stumble but manage to regain your balance, feeling a rush of exhilaration with each step. The sounds of your footsteps echo in the empty hallway, guiding you forward. Despite the haze of alcohol clouding your mind, you feel a sense of freedom and adventure in this moment.

With a mischievous grin, you continue your tipsy journey, eager to see where the night will take you. But then you feel something tell you to stop in your tracks, looking up from the floor you notice you’re in front of his place, F268. You stand outside Aaron's door, you realize the gravity of your situation - you have no idea what you’re here for.

With a headache forming and a sense of uneasiness, you reach out to knock on the door, hoping that Aaron will let you in. Your mind races with thoughts of what he’s going to say or even do when he sees you.

The lingering taste of alcohol on your tongue is a bitter reminder of the night's indulgence. Emily and Derek dancing, laughing, and singing with you till closing, the memories bounce around your pounding head. Your heels cause you to stumble, even while standing in one spot, causing you to giggle a bit louder.

What happened after the drinks and laughter? And how did I end up here, at Aaron's apartment? The answers elude you as you struggle to make sense of the night's events.

Knock, knock.

Next thing you know, he answers the door in nothing but dark blue plaid pajama pants, pleasantly surprised by you drunk in his hallway, he rubs his eyes, still trying to process your unexpected visit. The faint smell of alcohol lingers in the air as you meet his gaze with a mischievous grin.

"What are you doin' here?" Aaron asks, his voice laced with confusion and sleepiness.

You can't hold back a drunken giggle and blurt out, "Thought I'd surprise you."

His thick eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. The dim lights in his foyer reveal Aaron's puzzled expression as he stares at you, a subtle smile plays on his lips, but his puzzled expression gives away his confusion. The tension in the air makes you feel uneasy, almost as if you have disappointed him in some way.

“Your place is closer than mine,” you confess shyly, leaning your back on the hallway wall behind you for balance. Aaron's gaze is piercing, making you squirm under his scrutiny, “I’m too drunk to walk to mine and I just figured you be okay with me-“

"Just come in.” He cuts your drunken rambling before you make even more of a fool of yourself, grabbing your wrist to pull you in, causing you to stumble on your heels. The room spins as you try to regain your balance, the smell of warm candles and Aaron overwhelming your senses.

You catch a glimpse of his intense gaze, filled with a mix of concern and frustration. As he calmly guides you to his warm toned couch, you mumble an apology, but he just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You need to slow down, dear," he says softly, his voice cutting through the haze in your mind, “I’m gonna grab a water, just- sit here, please.”

It’s easy for you to read him, even when drunk. You can tell he’s confused on how you even found his apartment, but he let you in regardless - because you know he really cares.

With the best of your ability, while he disappears into what you can only assume is his kitchen, you scan his living room. It's simple, like any man, but it’s got a sense of comfort with it. The worn-out armchair by the window, the stack of books on the coffee table and a bunch more on his shelves that fence the large tv, and the flickering candles creating a warm ambiance - all familiar sights that make you feel at home despite the haze of alcohol clouding your mind.

You catch a glimpse of old photographs on the wall, each telling a story of a moment frozen in time, then you stop. A picture of you and him in college hangs above a side table with a record player on it, the one of you both from the fair in your hometown, your breath catches in your throat and tears brim your eyes. He’s missed me just as much.

After all this time, he still loves you.

You always believed he was fine without you, but now you realize the depth of his feelings. The realization brings a smile to your face as you think about the moments you shared together. Despite the distance and time apart, there is a strong connection that still binds you.

"Aaron..." you mumble and get up from the couch, the room swirling slightly from the multiple Jack & cokes. Slowly, you make your way towards the familiar picture hanging on the wall. The golden frame catches the dim light, casting a warm glow on your smiling face next to his. Memories flood back as you trace the outline of his features with your fingertip, feeling the nostalgia strike deep in your heart.

In the quiet moment by yourself, surrounded by the echoes of the past, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You remember the moments shared, the dreams woven together, and the heartbreak so many years ago. As you reflect on the times you spent together, you realize that Aaron will always be a part of you, no matter where life takes you.

—

“I couldn’t find anywhere in my heart to get rid of that.”

In the dimly lit room, Aarons smooth voice startles you, causing you to turn towards him. Your eyes fall on the two tall glasses of water placed on the coffee table, one for you and one for him. The alcohol coursing through your veins makes you feel comfortable yet emotional.

You struggle to utter any words, but ultimately they fail to escape your lips. Your gaze shifts back to the wall, a bittersweet reminder of the past, but you can't help from wondering how things could have been different.

A soft silence lingers between you and him, the weight of untold words hangs heavily in the air, filling the room with unspoken truths and lingering regrets.

“Do you think that- that this could work again?” You softly whisper as a small tear falls onto your warm cheek. Your feet hurt from the heels you’ve been in for hours now, causing you to sit back onto the couch, all while staring at him.

Aaron doesn’t respond, it's hard to tell if his silence is intentional or if he's just at a loss for words, either way a sharp pang of hurt pierces through you. You wonder if he even hears you, or if your words are falling on deaf ears. It’s really unsettling how much you don’t know him anymore, college you would know exactly this kind of silence means. But you don’t know.

The silence between you grows, it feels thick like a heavy fog descending upon the room, which starts to make you angry. You just asked him a simple, yet loaded, question and the least he can do is answer it. You look up at him as he sits down next to you, leaving a couple inches of space between you and him.

Frustration bubbles up inside you as you wait for his response, your patience wearing thin, faster than it normally does. The question seems to hang in the air, demanding to be acknowledged. You can’t understand why he remains so quiet, so distant.

Finally, unable to contain your irrational emotions any longer, you break the silence with a trembling, yet stern voice. "Why won't you fucking answer me?" Your words echo, pleading for some semblance of understanding.

But still, he remains silent, his eyes betraying a turmoil of emotions you still can’t decipher. Another few seconds of silence go by and you finally feel like you’ve had enough, so you push your hands on your knees and stand up. You try your best to balance yourself before you storm off, while telling him to fuck off.

Just when you think you are free to walk away, Aaron's sudden move catches you off guard. His grip on your wrist is firm, yet tender, pulling you close to him against your will. The intensity in his dark brown eyes sends a shiver down your spine, as conflicting emotions swirl inside you. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, his presence enveloping you completely.

In this moment, as you stand locked in a silent battle of wills, you realize that he’s head over heels for you just as much as you are for him.

“Yes,” Aaron loudly confesses, “I do think this can work again. You don’t know how hard this past decade has been for me, even harder the last couple of months having to work with you.” With his arms still around you, he purrs your name, “I love you more than anything.”

As his words sink in, the tension between you dissolves, replaced by a flood of emotions. The past grievances and misunderstandings fade away, leaving space for a new beginning.

With his dark eyes staring down into yours, he squeezes your body closer to him, "You make work enjoyable again. You make me comfortable in who I am," Aaron firmly tells you, "When you broke it off before we graduated, I felt like I lost a huge part of myself. But I know we wouldn't have lasted long after, it needed to happen."

The honesty in his words sends shivers down your spine as you realize the depth of his feelings. In the soft candle light, you see the vulnerability in his face as he speaks to you. His brows are relaxed but stern at the same time, revealing the rawness of his emotions.

His words echo in your brain, You make me comfortable in who I am. It's a simple statement, yet it holds so much weight. You realize, you have the power to ease his insecurities, to make him feel understood.

As you gaze into his eyes, you see a glimmer of gratitude mixed with a hint of fear of rejection. And in that moment, you know that you hold a piece of his heart in your hands—a fragile, precious gift that you vow to protect. And with that, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull his face into yours in a gentle, yet needy, kiss.

The warmth of his touch ignites a fire within you, a fierce determination to shield his vulnerability from the world's cruelty, even with the cruel job.

As you hold him close, his heartbeat echoes in sync with yours, a symphony of love and longing. In the silent language of your entwined bodies, you find peace and understanding. Each kiss is a promise, a whispered vow of eternal devotion to each other, once again.

In this timeless embrace, you and Aaron are bound by an unbreakable bond, a fusion of souls that transcend words, ultimately meaning to end up with one another. Together, you forged a love story written in the stars, a tale of two hearts intertwined in a symphony of passion and tenderness.

[belovedmusings]

God’s dead, and that’s all right with me.

Sukuna Ryomen x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part One of the 'Hell and back.' story. Click for story masterlist.

Sukuna Ryomen is the most fearsome syndicate head of the modern day. As such, you never in a million years expected him to wind up at your strip club in a dingy corner of town, but you’re going to make the most of it.

Relevant tags: Mafia! Sukuna, Stripper! Reader, rough sex, rough and sloppy blow job, cum swallowing, cowgirl, unprotected sex, cockwarming, multiple rounds, I don’t use “y/n” for better immersion, AFAB reader

Songs recommended while reading: Gods & Monsters (Lana Del Rey), Slow Down (Chase Atlantic), Swim (Chase Atlantic)

Cross-posted on Ao3.

Read below cut:

Sukuna Ryomen is the most fearsome syndicate head of the modern day. He looms like a storm cloud that threatens to unleash devastating hail at any moment over the city, ruling it with an iron fist. He’s the Two-Faced Demon incarnate, as you’ve heard those around you refer to him, the enigmatic man always addressed as if he was a mythical creature rather than a living, breathing person. He was the richest man in the city with his mountains of dirty money, each finger on his hands tied around the neck of all the local politicians and officials. As such, you never in a million years expected him to wind up at your stripclub in a dingy corner of town, so far away from the luxury of the inner city. 

He stands out like a beacon in the night, with his sunset-colored hair and white suit, which is really only slacks and a blazer, shirt forgone to display the large black markings of his tattoos instead. 

In your little corner on the outskirts of town, no one remotely interesting has ever come into the club. It’s usually slimy, older men, married and greedy for what they can’t have, salivating like dogs in heat for a glimpse at bodies that exist just out of their reach. 

Sukuna is a reprieve from that. Someone young and gorgeous, with an aura of danger…and you’re attracted to him like a moth to a flame. So, you decide to move in on him—he’ll probably never be here again, so why don’t you have some fun with it?

You saunter towards the section he’s sitting in, a booth against the wall, deciding to walk by and glance at him for a second, enticement in your eyes but no need on your lips. 

It works.

“Hey,” His deep, chalant voice calls to you. You pause, turning back around, leaning against the separator of his booth to the next. 

“Hey,” You echo smoothly. The edge of his mouth turns up, interest flickering in his appraising eyes as he takes in your form. 

“How much for a dance?”

“Twenty.”

A tilt of his head. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

You hum. “Sukuna Ryomen. Who doesn’t?”

“And you’re not gouging me?”

At that, you just snort. “Gouge you? I’m gonna enjoy dancing for you, I don’t need to gouge.”

He raises a brow, then his hand is up and he’s beckoning you towards him with a finger. “I gotta come to a shoddy little hole like this more often.”

You don’t reply to him, you just swing a leg up onto the booth in the seat beside him, waiting for him to tuck the cash into your garter. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing the small leather wallet from within and producing a twenty-dollar bill. As prompted, he slides it into your garter, brushing his calloused fingers over the skin of your thigh before you grab the pole beside you and hoist yourself up, beginning your dance.

You never get this much enjoyment out of performing for any man. They’re all the same, gross and worn-out, but Sukuna…there’s a fire in his eyes. Usually, you’re watched with impersonal hunger, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s appreciative, calculated, controlled. He’s savoring every shape he finds in your body with his eyes, and it feels so good. By the end of it, you can feel yourself pulsing with arousal, the bottom of your skimpy lace set damp with the evidence. 

It’s not lost on him; once you finish, slinking down with your legs parted to cage his body between your heels, ass on the cold wood of the table, he grabs your hips and pulls you into him abruptly, causing you to gasp.

“I can see how wet you are,” He murmurs under his breath, pushing you down into the evident bulge in his pants. It’s rock hard, and you have half a mind to maul him there in the lounge.

Immediately the security guard nearest to you springs into action, ready to intervene, but you hold a hand up to him.

“It’s okay,” You reassure him, feeling Sukuna’s palm shamelessly gripping at the flesh of your ass. “It’s welcome.”

“Mmm, welcome?” Purrs Sukuna, drawing your attention immediately away from the guard and making you forget all about him. “Just how welcome am I?”

You suck in a breath, meeting his eyes, such a brilliant, unusual brown that they appear almost red. You can only think one thought–fuck it.

“We have private rooms,” You inform him breathlessly, “…if you want.”

That pulls a breathy chuckle out of him, and he huffs, amused. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, sweetheart.”

It’s sort of hard for you to recall the time it takes for you to get off of him, take his hand, and lead him to the hallway where you enter an empty room, locking it behind the two of you.

You’ve never been back to one of these with a customer, and immediately it reminds you of a motel bedroom, old wallpaper on the walls, worn carpet, and nothing but a bed and side table placed in the center with sheets and no comforter. Dingy, seedy, and for one purpose only.

He hums, sitting down on the edge. “This place is no Vixens for sure.”

The name of an upscale club closer to the center of the city. You laugh softly, choosing to be bold and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass immediately, as if they’ve been there a million times. 

“It’s not,” You agree, “I’m no Vixen girl.”

“Mmm, I’m not missing out on much,” He grins wolfishly, admiring your figure again. “They all start to look the same once you realize they have the same surgeon. Don’t know how many girls’ bodies I’ve paid for over there by now.”

“A frequent visitor, then?” You ask, running a hand over his chest. He laughs haughtily.

“Like you have room to talk. I’m just another client.”

The smile you give him is full of chagrin. “I don’t actually take anyone back here. You’re the first.”

“Oh, I won’t believe that, but nice try,” He holds your chin between his index and thumb. “Now…it seems I’ve ensnared my prey for tonight.”

The predatory edge to his gaze should scare you, but if you do feel fear it quickly converts to arousal. If the way the world works is truly survival of the fittest, you’d be the first to go. You know that now for sure.

Sukuna Ryomen is not a gentleman, but then again, you dance naked for a living so you aren’t a saint either. Two souls, both sold, entwining within the heady musk of a room fortified with filth. You only serve to add to it.

He puts you on your knees first. It takes him no time at all to pull his cock out, hot, heavy, and thick beyond belief, with a length that sets your insides ablaze when you can wrap both hands around it and still see the tip. 

“Suck,” is all he commands, and like a concubine determined to service her master, you get to work. 

You may not usually offer sex for money like some of the other girls at your club, but you’re far from inexperienced. 

With him, you feel like you can be as bold as you want and he’ll enjoy it. So you just go for it.

You part your lips and take him in, sliding the large cock back to your throat where the gag reflex has long been evicted. 

He groans, grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing you to stay down. You moan, the vibrations adding fuel to his fire, and he pulls you back for a moment.

“Breathe now, because you’re not comin’ up again until I say.”

That and five more seconds is the only warning you get before he slams you back down, starting to properly fuck your face.

It’s a blur of push, pull, stretch, gasp for an immeasurable amount of time, the musky taste of his skin mixing with the salt of his precum running down your burning throat on its own volition, swallowing only triggered when he thrusts particularly hard. 

You can vaguely feel the tears running down your face, not from discomfort but from reaction alone; he’s conducting your body as if you’re a symphony and he alone holds the baton, cueing your every move.

“Fuck,” he hisses, looking down at you with sharp eyes. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You make an incoherent, garbled noise, your own arousal dripping down your thighs at this point, effectively ruining your set for the night. You won’t be able to dance in it after this, although, if this keeps up you won’t be able to dance tonight at all. 

He throws his head back and gives you a guttural groan, hot, bitter seed pouring down your throat in thick rivulets. 

Sukuna straightens back out and looks down at you. “Clean it up. Every last drop.”

You moan, sucking on him just to be sure you collect it all, and only then does he pull off.

“Tongue. Show me you swallowed.”

Obediently, you do just that, lips puffy and abused but tongue clean of cum.

“Good.”

He sniffs. Sitting back down on the bed, laying sideways, and regarding you for a moment, still on your knees and almost shaking with how turned on and untouched you are. 

“You haven’t gotten any pleasure, huh?” He asks, leaning on his hand thoughtfully. You nod, clearing your throat.

“I’m,” it comes out raspy and hoarse. He guffaws, a salacious grin playing on his face. You try again. “I’m soaking.”

“Yeah?” He asks, casual and uncaring. “Hmm…I could toss you my cash and leave you here like I usually do…let you take care of it yourself…”

You wait to hear the other option, begging him to choose whatever it is as long as he gives you something. 

“Or…I could reward you…since I enjoyed you so thoroughly…though I have to warn you, it’s not for the weak.”

Interest flares inside you. “I’m not weak.”

“Oh, well, you did take what I just gave you like a champ, so I suppose,” He acknowledges with a shrug. 

The room is silent for a moment before he hums decidedly. “Get up here. Kneel in front of my face.”

And you do so. He hums, eyeing you without an ounce of shame.

“You are quite wet. Look at your thighs, all shiny and sloppy.”

You don’t have time to reply, because he suddenly reaches out, pushing two of his fingers inside of you deeply. A gasp leaves your lips, but he ignores it.

“Pussy’s tight and soaked,” He states as if giving an appraisal. He looks up into your eyes, beginning to pump his digits in and out slowly, making sure to press hard every time they slide in. “Think you can take my cock inside?”

Your heart begins pounding in your chest. There’s not another man like him, you can’t explain it. Nodding, you say, “I can.”

“Eager,” He laughs, amused. “You’d probably do it for free, wouldn’t you?”

A shameful red blooms across your face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. He chuckles, low and breathy. He grips your chin firmly, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll compensate you prettily for your work,” He almost cooes, letting you go and laying down on his back. “You will work for it, though. I already got my fill.”

You become perplexed. “How?”

He glances down to his soft cock, laying against his abdomen, then back at you expectantly. 

“You want it, come and get it.”

It dawns on you that if you want any sort of satisfaction tonight, you’re going to have to do the work. Fine, then. One of the perks of doing this line of work is the ability to easily shake off any shame. You want what you want and you’re gonna take it. 

The first thing you do is lose the platforms adorning your feet, their weight dropping with a satisfying ‘thunk’ to the floor.

You then straddle his hips, taking his flaccid cock in hand and, after moving your soaked g-string aside, take him by surprise by slipping him inside of you just like that. He breathes in deeply, sensitive no doubt, and you start rolling your hips to get him hard, removing the straps of your skimpy top and exposing your breasts to him.

“Heh,” A crooked smile adorns his lips, “You were born to do this, weren’t you?”

You’re starting to think you were too, but not just for any man. The kind of guys that come in here are nowhere near Sukuna Ryomen. For him only, you can become whoever you are right now.

You nod, feeling him begin to harden inside of you, the sensation sending hot shivers cascading down your spine. As you begin to get more into it, he follows suit, hands exploring your body. First they fondle the malleable flesh of your breasts, then down your waist, your hips, gripping it tightly. You mewl, speeding up, his dick now stiff inside of you. He’s huge but it definitely helped to start out with him soft, because now he’s locked in, and all you have to do is move.

Wanting to feel more, you raise yourself up on him and drop back down harshly, the depths of you intruded by his length. It makes you release a cry, and before you can recover, his hands have found your ass, gripping it so hard it hurts. He starts to guide you faster on his cock, arm muscles straining beneath the fabric of his blazer.

“Sukuna,” The name leaves your lips before you can stop it, and for a moment you think you’ve messed up until he doubles down on his efforts, groaning deeply in his throat.

“Fuck,” He hisses, “Say it again.”

“Sukuna,” it comes out even more debauched than the first one, and slaps your ass hard, the sting causing you to flutter around him, his hips stuttering with the effort to move in such a confined space.

“You’re fucking tight…”

All you can do is whimper, not even participating in the movements anymore, just letting them happen to you, taking whatever he decides to give you.

He seems to notice this, because your back meets the sheets in the same breath, the syndicate head suddenly on top of you.

With the new leverage, he really begins drilling into you, and desperate, obscene drawls start pouring from your lips, so loud and abandoned that if the music wasn’t so loud in the lounge, someone would surely come looking for you in concern. 

His hands are on the backs of your knees, pushing them down, folding you in half without regard for whether you can bend that way or not, and he’s screwing you so absolutely hard that the coil inside you begins winding without any touch at all. 

“Sukuna,” You mewl, completely wrecked now, “Gonna cum…”

“Fuck,” He grunts, “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

Your response is a choked moan, and all it takes are the three subsequent, hard snaps of his hips for you to shout his name, cumming so hard your body shakes. 

“Shit,” Sukuna seethes through his teeth, pulling out and jerking himself off a few times before his second load paints your abdomen and thighs, staining the parts of your set it lands on, and you feel yourself clenching on nothing, gaping in the absence of his shape. 

The sharp-eyed man takes in the sight of you for a moment before climbing off of you and getting to his feet. He walks over to the lone nightstand in the room, grabbing the tissue box and tossing it onto the bed, grabbing a few for himself to clean up. 

You sit up, taking your own tissues and cleaning yourself off.

“Gotta say,” He breaches the silence after the tissues are disposed, your lingerie readjusted as good as you could get it. “I ain’t fucked like that in a long time.”

A loose smirk slides over your lips. “Me neither.”

He moves over to you, holding out a wad of cash. Your eyes widen–the girls that do take clients into private rooms usually make a hundred or two hundred at best per man, and what you see in front of you is easily at least a couple thousand.

“Don’t be shy now,” He says, “I’m loaded and you worked for it.”

He’s not wrong. You won’t deny him.

Once it’s in your hands, he flashes you another grin. “It was fun, uh…?”

You realize he’s prompting for your name, so you give it to him. He repeats it, the contours of his voice giving it a quality you’ve never heard before when other people say it.

“Hope to see you again,” He says, heading for the door. 

You watch him go, replying with, “you know where to find me.”

He hums, looking back at you for a moment with that confident simper before he exits.

Once you’re alone again, you take a look at the stack of cash, taking a look at how much he gave you. Three thousand.

“Holy shit,” You gasp, eyeing the money with bulging eyes. That’s an entire good week’s worth and then some.

You look back up at the door, thoughts echoing his last words to you.

Hope to see you again.

--

A/N: my first Sukuna piece!! I love how this turned out...and yes, this will be a series.

So excited for this new story. Something about a stripper and a syndicate man just works for me. I had to sugar-coat him a lil but he's still Sukuna... p.s. doing research, I learned "Ryomen" isn't Sukuna's name technically, but the name of a folktale/mythical demon? So it's kinda funny using that as his last name but for purposes, we'll just role with it lmao

In true D fashion, it's going to be full of drama, so comment here or on the masterlist for updates!

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 21, Unacceptable - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 947

Previously On...: Bucky confronted Steve when he thought you two slept together. It got... ugly.

A/N: Last part of Chapter 21! We're off to Atlantic City, baby!

I am probably going to start going back to 1/day updates tomorrow, at least until I make more progress on With Friends Like These.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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“That was pure evil,” Sam said as you both buckled your seatbelts in the convertible you’d be using for the mission. “I knew you were a genius, Baby Girl, but damn! Didn’t realize it was evil genius! Remind me never to get on your bad side!”

You smiled and shrugged, adjusting your hair in the visor mirror and putting on a pair of sunglasses. “Serves them right, acting like I’m a fucking piece of property either one of them can claim ownership of. I hope they break each other’s noses.”

Sam laughed as he pulled the car out of the Tower’s underground parking garage and onto the city street. “We got about a two and a half hour drive,” he said. “What do you feel like listening to?”

You were prevented from answering by the sound of Cherry Pie by Warrant filling the car. You both looked around for a moment before you realized it was coming from your phone. You picked it up, staring at the screen in confusion when you saw Tony’s name flash across the screen.

“You asshole, did you hack my phone?” you asked, putting him on speaker, “Because this was certainly not your ringtone.”

“Can you blame an old man for feeling nostalgic?” Tony asked, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “Did Cap give you my message?”

“Yes,” you said, eying Sam, “and Sam was very hurt when you called him ‘birdbrain.’” Sam did his best to stifle his laugh.

You could practically hear Tony roll his eyes. “Yeah, well Rogers needs to learn not to repeat everything word for word. Listen, kiddo, I meant what I said about visiting, though. You need anything, anything at all while you’re gone, you call me, okay? I can be there before you even hang up the phone.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, Tony. I’m not a child, and Sam’ll have my back. I know I’m not a mighty Avenger like the rest of you, but I’m not incompetent. I’ve been trained–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tony interrupted you, “that’s not why I’m worried. Not at all. I know you can more than handle yourself. Hell, I’d send you on this mission solo– that’s how much faith I have in your abilities.” You smiled unexpectedly at that. “I’m concerned about how this mission’s going to affect you mentally and emotionally, given your–”

You immediately took him off speaker and held the phone to your ear as he continued “--history. We’re dealing with missing women who are likely being trafficked for sex. If that’s not gonna be a potential trigger for you, I don’t know what is.”

“I’m not fragile, Boss,” you said, your voice softer now. In all the turmoil you’d gone through since finding out about Bucky and Carthage, you honestly hadn’t given much consideration to what the mission might mean to you on a psychological level. “I never said you were, kiddo. I know you’re strong. But, this is a lot. You’ve just been dealt a major blow because of Barnes and I’m putting you back in a position that’s a lot closer to your old life than you’ve been living in a long, long time. You’ve come so far, and, well, I guess I’m concerned that I’m doing you more harm than good by sending you backwards.”

“Thanks, Tony,” you murmured, touched that  he was still looking out for you, even from a distance. “That means a lot.”

“Just promise me– if it gets to be too much, if at any point you're struggling, you’ll tell me. I’ll pull you out, mission be damned.”

“But Boss,” you interjected, “these women need our help! We can’t just–”

“I know that, Pocket,” he countered, “and we will help them. But I’m not going to risk your mental wellbeing to do it. If it gets to be too much, we’ll pull you out, and we’ll find another way. Trust me.”

Your trust was running in short supply these days, but if there was one person who had never failed you, had never let you down, and was deserving of all the trust you had to offer, it was Tony Stark. “Yeah, okay,” you eventually agreed. “I promise. If it gets to be too much for me, I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” said Tony, and you knew he’d probably expected more of a fight from you, but you were too mentally exhausted to put one up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised Pepper I’d do a stopover in Havana on my way home from Belize and pick up this massage oil she absolutely loves. See, it warms up when you–”

“Good bye, Tony,” you laughed, ending the call before he could go into further nauseating detail. You shook your head, smiling to yourself. You noticed Sam glancing over at you. “What?” you asked him.

“Nothin’” he said, eyes back on the road. “Just think it’s sweet how much Tony cares about you, that’s all. I knew you two were close, like brother and sister, but I never saw it in action before. It’s nice.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised he hadn’t jumped to the typical conclusions people came to when they considered your relationship. “Yeah, he’s really been the best.”

“So, how did you two meet, anyway?” Sam asked as the two of you pulled onto the highway. “I know Tony said the strip club, but I figure there’s got to be more to it than that. If you don’t mind sharing, that is. I mean, we still have two hours of driving left to do.”

You chuckled. “Nah, it’s alright– I don’t mind telling you. It’s actually kind of a funny story…”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[jeon-ify]

request from @sanspuppet !!

8. wanna fuck you in the back seat

21. atta girl, taking it so deep on your stomach

.MDNI.

—————————————————————————————

deep in the back seat- keeho

“my god keeho, you never wanna go on road trips! its only 4 hours its not like-“ he sighed. he never likes driving. ever. and if he ever did drive, it’ll only be around the city, or to go on dates— but never for over 30 minutes.

lately, you’ve been wanting to go to another state. road trips are so much fun, but only with keeho. he made everything so much more fun and elevated. he listens to the same music, he raps the same verses you do, and he just gets it.

“ok, yeah we’ll go. but don’t expect me to drive the entire way there, baby. at least drive half way.” he argues. he’s wearing a white tee that hugs his neck so perfectly, and black baggy sweatpants. he’s wearing the chain you got him for his birthday, and the cologne you bought him for christmas. it’s his favorite.

you can’t stop staring no matter how hard you tried. he likes arguing with you just to argue with you. it turns him on. but at things like this, its kinda hard to tell if he’s serious or not.

“kee, are you serious..” you drop your eyes and lose all recollection of whatever he just said.

“kee, i’ll drive wherever, baby. just go with me. we’ll have so much fun,” you beg, and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes drop to your lips.

“i’ll come with you, pookie. but you gotta play my song. promise me baby.”

keeho LOVES dirty music. his favorite was ‘friends’ by chase atlantic.

“yesss, i’ll play it!!” you laugh.

———————

the drive out of state is so much more fun with keeho. he’s still in the same clothes he was in at home, but you’re wearing a crop and his black sweats. he wasnt any smaller or bigger than you, but his clothes are gonna be a tad bit baggier.

“AND WHAT THE HELL WERE WE?? TELL ME WE WERENT JUST FRIENDS!!! THIS DOESNT MAKE MUCH SENSE NO” you’re both screaming with the windows down, your hand in your boyfriend’s face, and his chain shining in the sun.

the song comes to an end and you and him take a deep breath. “my god, never gets old.” he says. he looks at you in a way you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“baby, pull over.” he asks, making all the eye contact possible.

“wait what? we’re literally almost there. relax, kee.” he wants to fuck you.

“if you dont pull over in the next 10 minutes, y/n.” he threatens. you don’t wanna push his buttons so you speed up and find an empty parking lot.

“okay!! god, i’m pulling over stop fucking yelling!” you argue. you really really want him to fuck you.

“get in the back. wanna fuck you in the back seat, pretty girl.” he groans and stares at your ass while you move to the back. he takes his shirt off while youre switching seats, and he follows you. he sits in the middle, manspreading and his cock hard the entire ride. you see it twitch just a little bit and you shift your eyes to his collarbone.

“kee, what’s gotten you so worked up, hm?” you ask, your doe eyes staring straight into his sharp almond eyes. you run your fingers up his collarbones and to his neck.

“you look too pretty, baby. couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you right here. want you on my cock ‘til youre screaming.” he moans. he moans.

his voice sends a thrill to your pussy and he grabs your hair and pushes you deeper into his kiss. he owns you, he owns your body and you willingly gave into him. the kiss is all tongue and teeth, he’s deep in your mouth and he tastes like the sweetest candy. “kee, please. please touch me.” you moan. he moves his hand to your throat and applies pressure right below your jaw, and he watches the way your eyes roll back.

“get on top of me baby, don’t even need to prep you, you’re soaking my fuckin’ pants.” he puts his middle and ring finger in your mouth and fucks your throat with his hand. “there you go, baby. get me soaked, all over baby. fuckkkk.” his eyes roll back and you feel him twitch again under you.

he moves his hand from your mouth and runs them under your pants just to feel that you were already fucking soaked since before you left the house 2 hours ago. “keeho, fucking do something please, j-just want you- mmmm.” you moan , as if he fucked you stupid already.

“need to stretch you out before i fuck you, can you even handle me?” he asks, his eyebrows furrow in faux concern and that alone makes you cum. he pushes his soaked fingers into your hole at an ungodly pace, the heel of his hand pushing against your clit. the rush sends you squirting all over his abs and his lower stomach. “fuck, kee, ‘m sorry baby, i’ll clean you up.” you apologize and he shows no emotion, yet he just wants to fuck you and get it over with. he’s rock hard. he needs you.

“take your pants off. take your top off. don’t say a fucking word.” he grabs your neck yet again. he licks your lips like you were a popsicle, and he kisses your chin and brings you to a deeper haze, by applying more pressure.

you take off your top and he squeezes your left tit and sucks on the right one. you feel him pressing into you but you can’t make a sound. he feels you clenching around him already.

“i feel you squeezing my dick, pretty. feels like heaven.” he groans, he’s fucking up into you and your head is muzzled in his neck. you suck the spot right below his ear and he sighs. the more you suck on it, the deeper his thrusts get.

“mmm, kee, please fuck.” you moan. you’re so loud and he’s so deep, you see his dick literally right above your belly button pumping you full.

“fuck baby, look at that. see it in my stomach you’re so fucking big.” you grab his hand and put it on the spot he keeps hitting.

“atta girl, look at you taking it so deep in your stomach. so fucking pretty. my beautiful whore.” he kisses your nipple and sucks. hard.

“kee! fuck i’m cumming!” you stutter. his hips speed up and you cum all over his cock.

“there you go baby, keep fucking cumming on me. so messy baby. love you like this.” he groans and grabs your hair and pulls your head up so he licks a stripe right up your neck.

“fuck baby, fucking squeezing me. cum again with me baby. need to fill you up.” his hips speed up and thumb strums your clit and your entire body twitches.

he reaches his orgasm and a layer of sweat coat his face and neck.

“my god baby, we need to go on more road trips together.” he laughs.

“told you, dumbass.”

———————————

I HOPE THIS IS GOOD IDKKKK TYSM AGAIN

#keeho

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 6)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Protective Mel <3

Warnings: Smut, flirting, arguments, and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MYGOD. @icannolongercountmyfandoms is the one you can thank for a new chapter bc she LITERALLY threatened me with BODILY HARM /j

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A soft knock on your office door drew your attention from your desktop monitor to the sweet face of Melissa Schemmenti. You had been ordering parts on a vehicle currently in your shop when her presence delightfully interrupted your work. 

Leaning back in your desk chair, you rest your hands on your thighs as you look her over. She wore leather pants and a form fitting top that only reminded you that it had been weeks since you last fooled around with the beautiful redhead. You spoke with a smirk, your eyes obviously wandering to admire her entire body, “What do I owe the pleasure of having Ms. Schemmenti in my office?”

Mel adored the way you stared, allowing the door to shut behind her as she inched deeper into the office. Her eyes scanned the walls littered with articles about the auto shop that had been in business for decades - opened by your great-uncle in the 70s. She murmured her reply without looking at you, “Just thought I’d drop by...” 

“I saw you less than 12 hours ago. I can’t believe you miss me already.” Your eyes were glued to her ass as she turned her back to you. 

Melissa kept her back to you as she spoke, slowly walking the perimeter of the office to skim the framed headlines. She returned the playful banter with a monotone, “I’m just here to make sure you are doin’ your job and not just daydreamin’ about me all day.”

“I have time for both.” You tease, earning a sideways glance and eye roll from the redhead. 

When she was done touring the office, she perched herself at the edge of your desk. Your response was to move your office chair closer while simultaneously leaning backwards, stretching out to allow Melissa’s eyes to skim over you. 

“Enjoying the view?” You asked.

“I am.” Her arms folded over her chest as a mischievous smirk grew on her lips. Mel’s eyes flickered from your shoulders, over your chest, allowing her eyes to linger before drifting back to your face, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

You give a shrug, teasing her, “That happens when you don’t call before 8pm.” 

Your comment had more bite than you intended, but Melissa didn’t seem to take it too personally. She brushed her hair over her shoulder before placing both of her hands on the arms of your chair and looming over you, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Rather than meet her intense green hues, you admired her cleavage with no effort to conceal your desires. “What do you have in mind?” Melissa’s demeanor changed with a playful laugh. You could’ve sworn you felt her purring as her face drifted closer to yours. Her nose and lips brushed against yours before she scantily pulled away, “A little weekend getaway. You, me, and a cheap, little hotel right on the beach in Atlantic City.” 

You cocked your head with a shit eating grin across your face, “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Her response contained no hesitation or nervousness. Rather she seemed incredibly satisfied with herself, “I am.” 

“Then say it.” Your demeanor was entirely too confident for Melissa’s liking, and you could tell this was the case as her brows narrowed as she stared you down. Her stubborn nature had her fall silent, searching your face to see how serious you were. You confirmed your serious intentions as you returned her intimidating gaze, “Go on.”

The redhead glared for a few seconds longer before straightening her back and softening her features, “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Why, I thought you would never ask.” To reward Mel for her behavior, you rose from your chair, pressing a brief kiss to her lips that threatened to cause Melissa’s cheeks to flush red.

—

“What in the hell is this?” A voice and a banging on the window to your office caused Melissa to jump from your lap to prevent anyone from seeing how cozied up you had been with one another. 

With a wave of frustration now coursing through your veins, you rose from your chair and strode to the door, opening it to face a disgruntled customer. He pushed a piece of paper stained with the vaguely familiar markings of the autoshop printer into your face. You quickly pushed away his hand and failed to provide his aggression with kind customer service, “It looks like a receipt.”

He pointed at the receipt, raving about the additional charges tacked onto the original cost of fixing his vehicle, “What the hell are all of these extra charges? You said it was gonna cost $300 and now you’re charging me over $500!”

You only shrugged at his frustrations, leaning away from him as he threatened your bubble of personal space once again as you tried to explain the additional charges. You hadn’t noticed Melissa lingering in the doorway behind you, silently fuming at the way the customer was speaking to you, “We told you when you dropped it off that you gotta pick it up within 24 hours or else we charge ya’ for parking. You left the Buick here for over a week, man. We aren’t a public parking lot. We need the space for other customers.”

“Where’s your fuckin’ manager?”

“I am the fuckin’ manager.”

You returning his energy wasn’t something he took kindly. He waded up the bill and tossed it aside before pushing his finger into your chest, “If you think for a goddamn minute I will be paying this bill, you have another thing comin’. I don’t need some bitch robbing me of my hard earned money.” The second he touched you, Melissa rounded your side and came to stand between you and the man. Her hands were balled into fists and perched on her hips as she stared defiantly up at the man who stood two feet taller than her. You glanced down and noticed gripped in one of her hands was a baseball bat you kept tucked behind your desk, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave a tired sigh, waving a hand in Melissa’s face. Little did he know that his waving hand was akin to the red flag waving in the face of a raging bull, “Get lost, red. It’s none of your business.”

With one swift movement she lifted the bat, allowing it to slide in her hand so she gripped the barrell, shortening it enough that she could poke him in the chest with it. You watched her lean back and forth as she threatened him - a genetic trait of Schemmenti’s as they threatened people. “The second you decided to start with the name callin’ it became my problem. I suggest you pay up before your car ends up with more problems than what you came in with.”

He made the worst possible decision as he placed his hands on his knees, speaking to Melissa as if he were talking to a child. “Stay the hell out of this. This is between me and your girlfriend.”

Melissa stared him down for a fraction of a second before snapping. She allowed the bat to slide back down in her hand so she could grip the handle and lift the aluminum bat above her head, ready to strike. You were lucky you had your eyes glued to her rather than the unwelcome customer so you had the time to loop one arm around her waist while the other raised to grip the barrel of the bat. 

“No, no, no, no!” You scolded, tugging her back towards the office while some of the boys working in the shop intervened. 

Mel barely gave up a fight against you, rather she stared down her new mortal enemy with a vitriol you had yet to see on her face before. When she was finally in the office, you released her while tearing the bat from her grasp lest she have any ideas about slipping past you to exact her revenge.

Knowing she was now trapped in your office, she began pacing back and forth with a rage you could feel radiating off her. You leaned against the door, watching her traverse your office like a caged wildcat which only made you smile. With a lighthearted tone, you tried to calm her, “Easy, tiger.”

Melissa whipped around to face you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she was clearly unhappy with your decision to prevent her from teaching that guy a lesson. She stared up at you with a defiance that you found incredibly endearing, and what was even more endearing was the way she continued fighting for you, “He can’t just talk to you like that!”

“Don’t give it too much thought. I deal with guys like that all the time.” You calmly brush off the encounter, remembering countless situations wherein things escalated much further and you were called far worse. Leaving the bat by the door, you approach the seething woman with a serenity that cooled her boiling anger. 

The redhead refused to respond to you and her eyes studied the calendar on the wall to avoid meeting your own. She folded her arms over chest and you watched her demeanor shift from simmering anger to pouty eyes begging for your attention. 

Taking her face in your hands, you lift her face towards you and press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into a tight hug, “I promise you. It’s okay.”

--

You drop your phone down onto the bed when Melissa walks out only wearing an oversized sweatshirt. The bagginess of the clothing hid everything and you were ready to help her out of it as quickly as she put it on. You gestured for her to come to your side of the bed, “Just when I think you can’t get more gorgeous, you walk out looking like that.” 

Melissa crawled into bed with you, straddling your lap for a moment to give you hope before sliding off to land on her side of the bed, “I have work in the morning. I don’t need any of your funny business. ”

You ‘tsked’ her response and pulled away the covers so she wouldn’t be able to hide. You rapidly maneuvered so you would be on your knees before her so your hands could guide her thighs open. She was smirking as she put up no fight against your efforts. She even lifted her sweatshirt to reveal more of herself to you; that move alone told you she wasn’t truly opposed to your ‘funny business’.

Settling onto your stomach, you lean your cheek against her thigh, staring intently at her panties, “Funny business? There is nothing funny about this...”

“Mm… Prove it.” A manicured hand wove into your hair, drawing your face closer to her heat. Her back arched involuntarily and caused her hips to shift downwards closer to your mouth. 

“Happily.” You murmured, hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down her legs the best you could. They were at her knees when you lowered your face to her cunt once again. As a professional in pleasuring Melissa, you skillfully wound your arms around her thighs before using your fingers to spread her cunt open for your tongue to go to work. 

You felt Melissa’s thighs squeeze your head for a moment as she worked to remove her underwear without trying to impact your ability to give head. The feeling of her legs around her head drove you insane. You tried to let her know how much you craved her as your hands shifted back to her thighs so you could feel your fingers compress into her soft flesh. 

Melissa relaxed back into the bed, completely melting into your touch. Her hands rose above her head to grip the bed frame - a silent way of giving you complete control. 

She was already sleepy from your lovemaking from nearly an hour ago, so this time Mel was far less energetic and performative. It was mesmerizing watching her head softly turn back and forth while soft breathy moans escaped her mouth. This was exactly what made Melissa so addicting for you. 

You watched her crane her neck so she could press her face into her pillow to catch the fabric between her teeth. In response, you swirl your tongue around her clit before giving her clit a hard suck. She gave a strained and exhausted growl that faded into a quiet whine - her quietness all centered around preventing her roommate from hearing.

You attempted to move your mouth away to give her reprieve, but her hips lifted off the mattress to impede too much separation.

Part of you wondered how far you could push Melissa. To satiate your curiosity, you gently scraped your teeth against her clit, earning a hiss then a whiney moan. You were clearly pushing your luck with how much she could handle. When you continued with your teasing licks, your eyes flickered back up to her face to enjoy the view. Her chest was heaving and her bottom lip jutted out into a pathetic pout as her hips began grinding against your tongue as she sought out an orgasm. 

For a split second you considered confessing your love to Melissa like you did all those years ago, but you kept yourself from doing so. She needed to come to you. Instead you opted to pay her a compliment instead, “You’re so good for me, pretty girl…”

Your heart fluttered as you watched a smile spread across her face. She then attempted to silence a rumble deep in her throat and hide her simper, but it was fruitless as the compliments continued falling off your lips. You breathily mumbled about her hips and thighs, briefly pausing to stroke your tongue up and down her drippy cunt, and continued your mad ramblings about how beautiful you found her to be.

In your moments of desperation, your words had caused Melissa’s face to grow hot from embarrassment. It was easy accepting compliments when the moment lacked the vulnerability of sex and nudity, but when your face was buried between her legs the flattering remarks felt all too real. She tried to brush them aside, only to have them linger at the outskirts of her mind. 

As you refocused your attention on her clit with the addition of two fingers gently inching deeper into her pussy, Melissa was struggling to escape the thoughts of your feelings towards her. She despised how light it made her feel. She hated that she felt herself being drawn closer to orgasm from the adoration she felt from you. 

Her fierce independence was battling the all-consuming craving to feel desired.

While you were not privy to her inner turmoil, you only worked harder to bring her pleasure. Your fingers gently curled within her, stroking that special spot you discovered during your youth. A coil tightened within Melissa, her hand shooting down to grip your spare wrist to steady herself. 

You chose to lose yourself in giving head once again. Her breasts gently shook with each light shift of her body - a mesmerizing sight. You were lapping and kissing at her clit softly as you hoped to draw out this experience as much as possible. However, Melissa was unable to take anymore as an orgasm washed over her and her back swiftly lifted off the bed and quickly arched back into the mattress, pushing her hips to your mouth. 

You slowed down the movements of your tongue, but you didn’t stop entirely. You wanted to slowly bring her down from her peak (and selfishly you wanted you to continue enjoying the feeling of her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head). When her back finally relaxed against the mattress, you slipped your hand from her cunt to reluctantly help guide her thighs into a resting position. You gave her thighs a couple of gentle bites, encouraging to ease up on you, “Come on, pretty girl…”

Melissa whimpered as her legs shakily parted, nervous you would attempt to continue regardless of her exhaustion. You only nuzzled her thighs, slowly smothering them with kisses in a way that gave Melissa butterflies. 

She was quick to try and move herself out of such a vulnerable position. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m already way up past my bedtime.” Melissa gave your arm a pat, encouraging you to get up as she shifted her hips to the left as if she were attempting to move off the bed. 

You rolled off the redhead and sat up, taking that as her subtle hint for you to head home. After following Melissa to the bathroom and using the sink to wash your face and hands, you began gathering your clothes to make your exit. This only confused the redhead as she pulled back the comforter for both sides of the bed as she expected you to join her, “Whered’ya think your goin’?”

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you began removing your sweatpants that you just put on. You undressed and joined the redhead in bed, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

When you were settled on your back, Melissa was on her side facing away from you. She found a way to make physical contact with you by backing up in bed so her back was pressed to your side. She shifted in bed for a few moments as she tried to find a comfortable position, and after she did she mumbled sleepily, “Be warned. I wake up at 6.”

You started your sentence mid-yawn, “That’s a shocker.”

She had one final quip for you as sleep threatened to overtake her, “I don’t just wake up looking this beautiful.” 

With a chuckle, you gave her ass a pat, mumbling out your final few words before allowing yourself to enjoy some silence before you fell asleep, “I doubt that…”

--

You woke up the next morning with Melissa already off to work, but when you checked your phone you had a message from Mel waiting for you. 

Melissa: Couldn’t bear to wake you up. You should have told me you were that cute when you slept. I would’ve let you stay sooner.

Y/N: I don’t believe that for a second. 

Y/N: Don’t worry. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be out soon. 

You quickly sent the second message as you didn’t want to seem too over confident nor did you want to overstay your welcome. 

Melissa: No rush. There is lunch for you in the fridge. I marked the tupperware.

You grinned at your phone like a lovestruck idiot. Quickly you threw on your clothes and wandered down to the kitchen to see what Melissa had left for you in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf was undoubtedly a tupperware full of her insanely good spaghetti with a bright pink sticky note stuck to the top marked with your name and a little heart.

Y/N: Thank you! Will I see you later?

Melissa: Open house tonight. See you Saturday? 

Melissa: I’ll let you take me to dinner.

The thought of waiting two days to see Melissa next was brutal, but you would take what you got as rarely did she ever make plans with you in advance. 

Y/N: Let me? What an honor.

Melissa: Believe me. I know.

You were smiling at your phone through the rest of the day as Melissa texted you about little things happening at school. Sometimes the stories she told you about Abbott were hard to believe. 

Her attention made you feel lovesick as you were constantly checking your phone, smiling at the thought of her getting into shenanigans and doing her terrible impressions for her work friends. The thought of going on a weekend getaway with her was only sounding better and better.

Link to Chapter 7

Taglist: Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[kenandeliza]

a collection of ideas of a post-suspendium Golden Age comics Billy Batson if he ended up in the 21st century (pick any comic continuity

EDIT: IF YOU SEE THIS POST HAVING A WEIRD/REPEATING PARAGRAPH/FORMAT, LET ME KNOW BECAUSE TUMBLR ISNT WORKING FOR MY MOBILE

1.adoption scenario

(If a leaguer wanted to adopt Billy, he’d just show them his birth certificate)

Billy smirking:” Sorry, you can’t legally adopt a grandpa”

2. Billy teasing with a smug boomer voice: “Back in my day, we used to play with atomic machines!”

3. youtube

Billy:thanks for showing me how to use a modern phone (insert friend from 21st century)! But I wonder, where is the tv remote for changing the youtube channel? And Where is the news?

(Friend from the 21st century):*sighs* it’s so over

4. Old friends

Aside from the fawcett city heroes, Billy in this case probably relates more to the older heroes like wildcat, Alan scott or Jay Garrick, maybe they have multiple team ups in the past and would reminiscent over it (the rest having their favorite drinks while Billy preferring his hot chocolate ice cream)

5. Teasing

The younger hero teams who know his identity would teasingly call him a “boomer”, Billy wanted to protest that he technically was born before boomers but they ignored it and still teased him about it.

to the rest of the heroes who didn’t know about his identity, they assume captain marvel is more than centuries old, and thinks this is the reason the kid heroes calls him a boomer.

6. Jokes

Billy: “oh so these memes are like what replaces comic strips i used to read, how nice”

Some of these ideas are taken from the fanfics i’ve written, some just came to me inside my head, but it’s fun to think about it.

(Edited: added more scenarios)

7. Caprisuns

Caprisuns werent invented yet when Billy was in suspendium. After getting out of suspendium, He really likes caprisun.

Other leaguers would be confused, Marvel's liking of caprisun is comparable to Martian Manhunter's love of oreos. When asked about when his capri sun addiction started, Marvel shrugged, "They weren't made before I was born, so it was only recent"

The league is now confused as to how old marvel is. Wonder Woman relates to this with her fascination of ice cream flavors.

8. Billy automatically put on a Mid-atlantic accent whenever he is near a microphone due to his habit and work with Whiz station for his TV segments as well as radio programs.

Whenever Captain Marvel uses a communicator, he unintentionally uses a mid-atlantic accent (this confuses the leaguers, "who is this guy!?"). Some of the leaguers enjoyed listening to his voice

Marvel would occasionally file an audio JL report (yes, with the same mid-atlantic accent) when he's on a hurry and couldn't type it out with his typewriter (he still finds it difficult to use a computer) : "And there you have it, folks! In a nutshell, I managed to handle the There was an outbreak of imps but Mary and I already took care of it, Junior apprehend the acrobat after a terible case of Moonitis, the three of us thwarted Mr. Mind's dastardly scheme to seize control of the sun, and we all prevented Sivana from being promoted to "King of Earth" by hurling his atomic bomb straight into the heart of the sun itself! That's the latest from me, This is Captain Marvel, signing off!"

Leaguer: "Why does he sound like a radio host commenting on a football game?"

Other leaguer:*shrugs*

9. Billy watches a cgi lion movie for the first time

..and thought innocently that there are other talking tigers like tawky tawny.

Some of these ideas are taken from the fanfics i’ve written, some just came to me inside my head, but it’s fun to think about it.

[janeyseymour]

stick season

summary: it's stick season. Hurt.

WC: ~1.85k

Feel free to listen to my cover of the Noah Kahan song!

Melissa has been your girlfriend for a year now. And she just joined you on a long weekend to go visit your hometown up in Vermont. Your parents absolutely adored Melissa, giving you the stamp of approval on your newest girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier about that. 

It was warm, it was cozy, it was perfect. Or at least that’s what you thought. But apparently you were wrong, because the drive back to Philly just felt wrong.

As you promised me that I was more than all the miles combined, you must have had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive, because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign; kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right.

Melissa had told you that it was entirely worth all of the miles you were putting on her car to go up there with you over the weekend, and you can’t help but smile with joy. And then she’s kissing the back of your hand and promising you that you were more than all of those miles combined.

But then, about halfway through the car ride home, there’s a shift. She takes her hand off of your thigh as she drives, and when she passes the exit that she usually would to take you back to your apartment, she goes silent, biting her lip as if she’s deep in thought.

When she pulls in to her own driveway, she looks to you sadly.

“Hun? What’s wrong?” you ask, clearly concerned about this sudden shift in attitude. 

She bites her lip nervously. “Y/N, I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

“Do what?” you ask, although deep down you know what she’s hinting at.

She gestures between the two of you. “This. I- I’m not ready for the commitment that you’re ready for… you want to get married and have kids, and move back up to Vermont, and I can’t do that. I- I’m sorry.”

You leave her house in a puddle of tears. The uber driver that gets the misfortune of taking you home gives you quite a few concerned looks through the rear-view mirror.

Now I am stuck between my anger, and the blame that I can’t face, and memories are something even smoking weed does not replace. And I’m terrified of weather cause I see you when it rains. Doc told me to travel but there’s Covid on the planes.

You’re furious. You don’t know who you’re more mad at: yourself or Melissa. She just spent the last three nights with you up in Vermont playing the part of perfect girlfriend before dumping you and leaving you to explain to your parents that you’re single again. And you’re mad at yourself because you knew she didn’t want the future you did, but you had foolishly hoped she would change her mind. You suppose you should take the blame for that one, but you don’t want to face it- admit that it was your fault for putting blind faith in her.

Deciding that you need to relax, you roll yourself a joint, but the memories of you and Melissa over the past year just continue to replay in your mind. And for the first time ever since you started smoking weed, it doesn’t help the pain you feel in your chest. The drug might be able to remedy physical aches and pains, but it sure as hell can’t fix a broken heart; you’re not sure anything can right now.

You don’t leave your house for the next few weeks unless absolutely necessary. You’re a mopey mess, and your therapist finally tells you that you should travel. And you consider going back to Vermont because being in the same city as your now ex-girlfriend hurts too much. But there’s Covid on the planes, and you can’t quite justify driving up to Vermont on Friday night just to leave again on Sunday morning. Come Friday, you really do still toy with the idea of making your way back to your parents’ house, but there’s a cold front making it��s way through the Mid-Atlantic all the way up through New England, and you’re not about to attempt to drive through seven hours of rain and wind. Besides, when it rains, you can only think of Melissa. She used to have you dance out in the rain with her before cozying up on the couch and watching movies. She claimed it was the only way to spend a rainy day.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas.

There’s a season that happens in New England when Fall starts to make its exit and Winter presents itself- and every year, around stick season, your life changes. Melissa came during stick season last year, and she left during this stick season. It hurts.

You end up seeing her mother at the grocery store, and you look like a wreck. You give her a shy wave just to be polite- things may have ended with her daughter, but it’s clear to you that she’s entirely forgotten about your existence or previous presence in Melissa’s life.

That stings, and you make your way to the alcohol aisle, throwing a few bottles of wine in your cart so you can mope and play the victim at home tonight. You suppose you’ll just drink until a few of your friends from college come home for Christmas.

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad. No, I am no longer funny cause I miss the way you laugh.

For the childhood that you had with your father, the relationship that you have with him as a grown woman is nothing short of a miracle. Because of everything you witnessed growing up as a child with having your father for a Dad, you came out better. You knew where to draw the line with certain things. You were funny because of the trauma that he caused you though too… but you aren’t funny anymore because the off color jokes that you used to make were usually just there for Melissa- and you miss the way she laughs. So now, you’re back to the quiet and shy, reserved person that you used to be before she brought out the best (and worst) in you.

You once called me forever, now you still can’t call me back. 

You remember when she told you that she was going to be yours forever. You didn’t think that she would ever say something like that- you knew that she hadn’t ever wanted to get married again, but you continued to pursue her romantically. And it was all looking really good for you, until she broke up with you.

You’ve called her a few times, to beg and grovel for her to take you back- tell her that you didn’t care about marriage and children as long as it meant you got to keep her in your life, but she refused to pick up the phone or call you back.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas.

You end up flying home after a few weeks because you simply can’t bear the pain of this heartbreak alone, and you can’t quite justify driving for a weekend. It’s still stick season though, and you feel the cool air wash over you as you exit the airport and try to hail a cab back to your childhood home.

After the flight back home, you see Melissa’s mother at the airport. She has a sign that she’s holding indicating that she’s picking someone up. But she doesn’t see you, and after the last meeting with her, you doubt she remembers you… she’s definitely forgotten about your existence by now.

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your breakup with the Schemmenti was half your fault at this point, but you still take the Septa to get closer to your house before stopping at a liquor store- with the intention of once again playing the victim and drowning your sorrows in a bottle of tequila.

Maybe once you’ve seen some of your old college friends, you’ll head back north to see your hometown friends when they come.

And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.

That redheaded beauty has haunted your dreams since you broke up with her. And you miss her dearly. But in each of your dreams, she’s a different version of herself, and it’s quite odd. Somewhere deep inside though, you know none of the versions of Melissa that your mind had made up are her- so you didn’t really lose her in a sense.

You always wake up though and sigh. She isn’t next to you like she should be. And when you head into your living room, you see a pair of her shoes that she left here and hasn’t asked to get back yet.

Your heart splits in half every time you see those shoes. You should just throw them out at this point, but you don’t want to touch them- if they’re there, maybe she’ll come back to you one day. 

Oh that’ll have to do… My other half was you. I hope this pain’s just passing through, but I doubt it.

She really was your other half, and you hope that the pain that you feel every time you see her shoes passes eventually, but you doubt it will.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas. And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.

Stick season passes by, and you’re still left on your own. Christmas time comes, and you find yourself with a bottle in your hand almost every night to try to help numb the pain. It’s becoming less and less, but you still miss her with all your heart. You know that being split in half will just have to do… maybe next stick season will bring you something happy again.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab

[unemployedhockeyfan]

Not All Breakups Are Equal Pt. 2

Summary: Lando and Eloise deal with the fallout of their friendship after Eloise left Lando standing in his Monaco apartment.

Warnings: angst I guess and I'm pretty sure just one swear word

Notes: Hi! Thanks for the support on part one!! Sorry it took a few days for this part. I write for my adult job, too, so sometimes I'm just a little too worn out to write after work.

[2.33k]

Part 1

The days in New York are easy. Daily life is just fast enough that I don’t even have the opportunity to think of the friendship breakup that’s constantly trying to pull at my heart. 

Days are nothing compared to nights. 

New York has seemingly earned its title of “The City That Never Sleeps.” I wish I could say it’s because I make my nights as fast paced as my days, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told — second only to all the years I told myself I didn’t love Lando… At least not that way. 

My nights are filled with little to no sleep as I toss and turn in the bed squished into the tiny hotel room. All that fills my brain is his smile, his laugh and the look on his face as I walked out the door of his apartment. 

I never want to forget the smile or the laugh, but that last look is one I wish wasn’t burned into my brain. 

It’s been three weeks since I last saw or talked to Lando. He’s since won his first race in Formula 1. 

A race I wasn’t there for. 

I was supposed to be. I had a pass and in all honesty, I could’ve still shown up. If I did, though, I would’ve fallen back into the same pattern as before. The people-pleasing nature of my personality would’ve come out and I would’ve continued to let Lando’s new girlfriend talk ill about me. 

My mind was overflowing with the memories I had of watching Lando celebrate in Miami while I sat 1,200 miles north. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. At least not anymore than the three hours I had already barely managed. 

As I rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand, the cheap digital clock was shining 3:30 a.m. 

“Hm, Max is probably up by now. I can call him,” was the initial thought that crossed my mind. 

Max wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he found out that my plane ticket landed me across the Atlantic Ocean, but he got over it relatively quickly when he found out I had friends from university in the area. 

It took a while, but the line finally connected, welcoming me to one of the most comforting voices in my life. 

“Eloise, long time no hear.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been busy.”

“Really? Or are you just lying to me?” Max always seemed to be able to read my mind, no matter how much I wished he couldn’t.

“It’s a half lie. The days have been busy, the nights are just restless.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

The silence lasted for a few moments too long. It allowed Max just enough time to steer the conversation in a direction I was trying to avoid. 

“He misses you, Elle.”

“I saw his win in Miami. He looked happy. I couldn’t help but watch.”

“He wanted you there.”

I know Max is telling the truth. He has no reason to lie, and I know that truthfully Lando didn’t want me to leave his apartment just over a month ago, but I did. 

“You should call him, not me.”

“It depends, Max” 

“On what? Whether or not he’s broken up with his girlfriend?”

“Actually, exactly that.”

“I thought you told him you were OK if they were dating as long as she was nicer to you,” Max pushed back. 

“I am, I just don’t think she’s capable of changing in just a few weeks.” 

My voice was getting louder and I didn’t really want to take my anger out on Max. He hadn’t done anything wrong — maybe just pushed the wrong button or two. 

We sat in silence, the only noise being our breathing on either end of the line. It lasted well over a minute before I let out an exaggerated sigh. I was not only going to come clean to Max, but to myself as well. 

“Max, it's just… It’s hard and it hurts,” I said as my eyes slowly started to leak fresh tears. 

“I know, Eloise, I know. I don’t think anyone is expecting it to be easy for you or for him.”

“No, Max, I don’t just mean distancing myself from him. It’s hard to even be around him nowadays when I see how he treats other girls when all I want is for him to treat me that way.”

The pause in the conversation was deafening. With the phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Max to say something, to say anything. 

“Max?”

“Well, it’s about time you admitted it to yourself,” he said with a rather large chuckle.

“Stop, this isn’t funny.”

I was laughing too, though. I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that for the first time in a month I felt comfortable in my surroundings, but I laughed for a good three minutes before Max’s voice finally came through again. 

“You sure do laugh a lot for someone who thinks this isn’t funny!”

“Can’t help it right now.”

“I mean, I am pretty funny,” Max said with an audible smug look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.”

“Good one, Elle. I’m going to hang up on you so you have to call him.”

“I’m not going to, I need more time. Plus, he’s in Montreal right now, it’s 3:30 for him, too, and I’d imagine he’s asleep.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that, right?”

“Hm, I learned it from you.”

“Get some sleep, Eloise. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Maxy. And, I promise, I’ll call him eventually.”

It was nearly two months later before I decided it was finally time to talk to Lando again. Of course, by that point, I was well past sleep deprived between restless nights in New York and changing time zones as I returned home to the United Kingdom. 

With my brain barely functioning, I decided the best bet would be to not call Lando, but show up in Austria at his next race. I had all the passes I needed to show up thanks to both myself and Lando thinking this falling out was never going to happen. 

I managed to avoid all the areas I knew Lando would be during the days leading up to Sunday. I saw and anxiously watched as Lando raced Max for the lead. I sat and nearly cried as I watched Lando’s race come to an end just laps shy of yet another podium. 

Lando is hard on himself. He holds himself to a level that’s nearly impossible to reach, and I know his mood after this race will be anything but stellar. He’s bound to be angry, and I start to fear what his reaction will be if he sees me. 

As I stand lost and confused in the paddock, I hear my name being called by maybe one of the few people who could make me smile at this moment. 

“Eloise! Elle, is that you?”

I whip my head around to see a smiling Daniel Ricciardo jogging my way. Before I could even respond, I’m wrapped in the embrace of one of my favorite members of the F1 world. 

“What are you doing here? Does Lando know?”

“I’m assuming he’s clued you in on what’s happened?”

“Just a little, don’t know all the details.” 

“Um, yeah, well he doesn’t know I’m here. Really, I don’t even know why I’m here. I should probably leave. There was part of me that wanted to talk to him, but after everything that’s gone on just today, it’s probably best I make myself just disappear. I don’t want to make this any worse than it probably already is for him.”

“Eloise, you’re rambling.”

I couldn’t help it, I was nervous. I was standing in front of one of Lando’s former teammates and just steps away from the McLaren garage. 

“Do you want me to call him and get him down here? I really don’t think you off all people could make this moment worse for him”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Call him.”

Lando must’ve answered quickly, but it seemed to take some convincing from the Aussie to lure Lando out of his driver’s room. Eventually the word was that he was on his way down. 

I wouldn’t let Daniel leave. I couldn’t let Daniel leave. Just over a minute after Daniel had hung up the phone, I heard a voice that I’d been missing for months. 

The voice was so calming on the ears that I had a physical reaction to it. Everything seemed to calm down around me the second the first word came stumbling from Lando’s mouth. 

“What’s up, Daniel? Really just not in the mood right now.”

He didn’t respond. Daniel just stepped out of the way, revealing me to the man who still held so much of my soul. 

“Hey, Lan.” 

The tension was palpable. Lando and I stood there staring at one another as Daniel slowly disappeared to likely return to his own driver’s room. I didn’t want to say anything until he responded, but I was scared that if I waited for him, it would be silent for hours. 

“Sorry for just showing up and not calling. For some reason it seemed easier to jump on a plane than it did to pick up the phone.” 

“You’re here? In Austria? You’re here, really here? I went back home, I called and nothing. Now, you’re just here?”

“Lan, I’m sorry. I needed space. I just didn’t know the best way to come back.”

I could tell Lando was trying to not get angry. His body language becomes so easy to read after knowing him for years.

His hand ran through the curls on his head after rubbing his face almost too hard. 

“Um, let’s just go to my driver’s room. We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in public.” 

The walk to his room was awkward. There were eyes glancing at us and some whispers, too. I knew it had been awhile since I had been at one of these, but this surely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. 

“Listen, Eloise, I’m not mad. I’m just confused. You left me in my apartment and then disappeared for months with nothing from you. I had to rely on Max to at least know you were alive.”

Lando took a seat on his makeshift bed after making room next to him for me to sit. 

“I know, Lando. I can only imagine how much it hurt you for me to leave, but I had to protect myself. I was hurting so much.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Lando was crying. With the events that had already unfolded today, this really wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but it didn’t look like I could avoid it any longer. 

“Lan, I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 

Before I could stop myself, I was wiping the tears that were starting to spill from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable at this moment. 

“And, really, Lando, I don’t think I ever really felt hurt by you. I just wanted you to hear me and it felt like you were blinded by some love.” 

“It wasn’t love. It was lust or some shit like that. It just definitely wasn’t love.”

I’m not sure how I was really supposed to take that revelation. Was he still seeing her? Was it still too new that he was just describing it as lust?

My confusion must’ve been evident on my face because before I could utter a response, Lando was talking again. He was talking to me as he slowly grabbed both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. 

“She’s gone. She’s not in the picture anymore. The day after you left, Max and I had a heart-to-heart. Really, he kind of laid into me and wouldn’t stop. He kept saying that some fling was never going to be worth what you meant to me — what you mean to me.”

It was my turn to start crying. The tears didn’t flow as fast as they did the night I walked out of his apartment, but they were there. Lando quickly pulled me into his chest, placing a needed kiss on my temple. 

“Eloise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life apologizing for allowing her to say those things about you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” my voice slightly muffled but my head in his chest. 

As I leaned back, I grabbed his hands once again and looked him in the eyes — those eyes that have held me captive since I was 13. 

“Why didn’t you come find me after you broke it off with her? Max isn’t that strong, he would’ve told you where I was in a heartbeat if he knew it was over.”

“I knew where you were. I knew you were tucked away in a crummy New York hotel room. I just wanted to give you space. Telling you she was gone would’ve just rushed you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Lando Norris. Can we go back to being friends again? I can’t do life without you in it.”

“About that…”

About what? What could Lando possibly want to say to me? I thought this conversation was going well, I thought it was oddly healing in a way. Was he about to push me out the door this time? 

“I don’t know if we can be friends again, Eloise.”

Oh my god this really is it. Our friendship is ending. After months of me not letting it die in my brain as I took my own space, Lando Norris was about to shatter my heart into a million unrecoverable pieces. 

“We can’t be friends because it’s not OK for friends to love one another the way I love you.”

“Wait, what?”

[luthordamnvers]

Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven)

Chapter 9 - Cottage

"I hope you don't mind that I brought us here.” Kara mumbled with a breath of relief when Lena finally woke up, opening her gorgeous green-blue eyes. “We kept saying we would come and something always came up.“ Kara smiled, and then clarified, “We are in the cottage your mom left you." Kara kissed Lena’s hand, clutched in hers. "I needed to get you out of the city. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. I think I would tear this world apart." “What happened?” Lena groggily questioned.  “He put a bomb in your car,” Kara explained in a low voice. And before Lena could ask, she added, “I got Frank out, remember? He’s okay, nothing but a few scratches, nothing to worry about. You lost consciousness after the blast, we were too close to it. Alex ordered an entire retreat. Everyone is in a safe house. Except for J’onn and Brainy.” Lena covered her face with her free hand, a thoughtful, yet miserable expression on her face, “How long was I out?” “You woke up after the ordeal pretty soon. Alex looked you over and decided to sedate you so you would rest. That was a little over 16 hours ago.”  “So, you decided to fly me to Ireland?” Lena asked, and Kara could tell she was trying to lighten up the mood. “No, I couldn’t fly with unconscious, precious cargo, over the Atlantic.” She replied, trying to smile. She kissed Lena’s knuckles and continued, “I was a little too on edge for that. I used the portal watch.” “My knight in shining armor…” Lena teased in a mumble. “This is my fault.” Kara confessed, in an equally low voice.  “I don’t think it is, Kara. It was me who antagonized John Kiley.” Lena didn’t even try to sit down, which made Kara worry a bit, because she knew how stubborn her girlfriend was. “Maybe you should have let the shooter hit the target.” “Don’t joke about that…” Kara said between gritted teeth. “It’s not funny. I put you in this situation too, and I don’t know how to protect you. How to protect our family.”

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