#the way he said it gave me whiplash in sorry

[phatcatphergus]

Tubbo just said “protect my bees” does this mean he’s dying

[justmediocrewriting]

okay but thoughts on sanji x reader where she gets jealous bcs he flirts with every woman he sees and she’s scared to confess because she doesn’t know if he likes her or just loves to play a flirt

Tell It To Me Straight (Because I’m Going Crazy) {v.s}

Summary: it was just like you to fall head over heels for a guy at first sight, only to later realize said guy was the world’s biggest flirt. It would also happen to be your luck that this same guy would join your crew — and now you had to deal with feelings and other things that were equally as unpleasant.

Genre: angst, fluff

Requested: ✅

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: insecurities, pining, Sanji (that’s a warning, right?), angst with fluffy ending ❤️

A/n: anon bless you for requesting my husband Sanji. I love this man so much. This actually took me entirely too long to write and I’m so sorry for that, writers block has been hitting me like a fucking train. Anyway I hope y’all enjoy even tho I feel this one might be a bit shitty ❤️✌️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red painted lips curved into a smile, hair pulled into a classy updo, high rosy cheekbones, and donned in a dress that hugged every curve just right, the woman was truly beautiful, and when the dim lighting of the tavern reflected off the pair at the bar, you couldn’t help but feel that she looked too good next to Sanji.

It was a reality that was painful but long since accepted by you, the fact that you’d never truly be good enough for the charming man — but acceptance didn’t curb the cinching pain within your chest, or the burning jealousy that flickered to life in your gut and heated the underside of your skin.

You pursed your lips as you watched the two exchange murmured words and laughs, and fury burned hot in your lungs when the woman brought a hand up to swipe painted fingernails along Sanji’s forearm — Sanji, predictably, didn’t usher the woman away, and your next heartbeat was incredibly painful when Sanji instead leaned into the touch.

It was utterly ridiculous, the way you burned with flaming jealousy — and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were more angry with Sanji’s antics, or the fact that they affected you the way they did, even though you had been aware and exposed to them from the start. Sanji was a flirt, through and through, and it didn’t matter if the woman he flirted with was ugly or gorgeous, he just enjoyed the act of it — and this very fact put you in a position where you had to constantly remind yourself that just because he showered you with compliments and called you pet names didn’t mean they were genuine, or that you were someone special to him.

You’d also thought that acknowledging this fact would chase away the deep feelings you harbored for the man, and in the beginning, it actually did, but Sanji always found a way to drag them back to the surface.

Sanji was tall, he was handsome, and he had a way with words that could make any woman melt, you included. When you’d first encountered Sanji at the Baratie months ago, you had been utterly and hopelessly drawn in by these very traits of his, and still to the day, you found yourself stuck to him like a magnet. And it infuriated you from the inside out.

Because you’d never even asked for it, and the only chance at relief had been stolen away from you when Luffy invited Sanji to the crew, and the man actually agreed — and for the past few months, you’d been plagued with so many emotions that it gave you mental whiplash.

The center of this inner turmoil also didn’t help any. From the moment Sanji locked eyes with you, he was spewing compliments and sweet nothings at you, and looking at you with these eyes that made you squirm in both the most unpleasant and pleasant ways; you’d never had that kind of attention from a man, especially not from a man as attractive and damn sophisticated as Sanji, and it was just as exciting and exhilarating as it was flustering. It was no surprise you’d fallen as fast as you had — anyone would, should they get the time to really be around Sanji for a prolonged period.

You had even once considered admitting your feelings to Sanji; the prospect of confession had swirled into your mind the first night of his joining, when the crew was locked on the path to the Conomi Islands to retrieve Nami. You two had fallen into conversation late into the night, swapping muted stories in the comfortable air of the Merry’s galley, and Sanji was so attentive, so alluring, and his eyes… his eyes were locked onto yours, as if you were the only girl in the world, and there was something within their depths, something that had you wondering if he’d felt the same sensation you had when you two had locked eyes in the Baratie.

They had you wondering, entertaining, if he truly thought of you in the same way you thought of him.

But that notion was quickly tossed away the night at Cocoyashi village — because you noticed that Sanji gave those eyes to nearly every woman he met, save for the ones who were underage, and it hit you so heavily that you were not special to him at all that you nearly lost your breath. From that point on, you swore away your feelings for the man, and promised yourself you’d never let yourself be mislead or disillusioned by his flirts and charms again.

Except, things didn’t really go according to plan.

Because no matter how much you acknowledged the truth of Sanji’s flirtatious disposition, it still affected you — you would still feel so warm and fuzzy inside when he smiled at you, or when those soft endearments and compliments slid past his lips, or when he’d softly stroke your elbow to announce he was passing you aboard the ship…

Everything he did made you jittery and warm.

And you fucking loathed it.

“Are you alright?” Nami’s soft voice and gentle touch to your arm broke you from your scathing thoughts, and you tore your eyes away from the events unfolding at the bar to blink at her.

“Uh, what?” You asked, a little dumbly, and the redhead’s brows furrowed a little.

“I asked if you were alright.” Nami iterated, and you took in a sharp breath, a part of you so desperately wanted to flick your eyes over to Sanji, just to see what was unfolding — but you resisted the urge, and instead forced a smile to your lips.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… spacing out, I guess.”

Nami didn’t look convinced, and your heart stuttered just briefly when she glanced in the direction that you had been previously staring, and a strange sort of look shadowed her eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything else, and instead took a sip of her drink. Now that you’d been pulled back into the present, you were aware of Usopp and Luffy bickering about making “subtle changes” to the Jolly Roger, and you could hear faint snores from your right — sure enough, when you turned your head in the direction, you pinpointed a sleeping Zoro nestled a few feet away from Nami. Part of you wanted to smile, but the thought that Sanji was still at the bar with that woman dulled your ability to do so.

Don’t do it, you warned yourself, but despite the seething voice in your head, you still turned your focus back to the bar, and sure enough, Sanji was still entertaining the woman.

“Jeez, all he was supposed to do was get drinks. Guess we should start sending someone else to do that from now on,” Nami huffed from beside you, and all you could do was nod numbly, because at the moment your throat felt too tight to possibly push words through. Sanji’s lips split into a beautiful smile, and moments later your ears were graced with the rumbling timbre of his laugh, and despite yourself you couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine from the pleasant sound. The sight of his dimples and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes made your heart stutter in your chest, and in that moment, all you wanted was for him to be looking at you like that — to be on the receiving end of that smile and those eyes once again.

Just then, in a moment that was equal parts mortifying and electrifying, Sanji turned his head and locked eyes with you; your breath caught in your throat, and for an irrational heartbeat, you swore that Sanji had somehow telepathically received your desire to be looked at and followed the command, and you wondered if your feelings of burning jealousy and desire were reflected on your face. You forced a small smile to your lips and held up your near-empty bottle in one hand while gesturing to it with the other, silently reminding Sanji of the real reason he’d went to the bar in the first place.

Sanji’s expression changed from confused to realization in seconds flat, and you watched in growing anger as he addressed the woman once more and murmured what you assumed was some sort of departing quote; then he skimmed his fingertips over the length of the woman’s forearm before he turned back to the bar and grabbed three bottles by the neck in one hand and turned on his heel to stalk back to your table.

You tore your eyes from his and downed the small bit of liquid still in your bottle; the bitter taste and satisfying burn gave your mind something else to focus on.

“Sorry about the wait, my sweets. Here are your drinks.” Sanji said smoothly, placing a sweating bottle in front of Nami and then placing one in front of you as well. You tried not to look at him, but your eyes were drawn to his long, dexterous fingers by the light shining off his ring in just the right way.

Anger stirred in your gut at the way he apologized for the wait as if it wasn’t entirely his fault. You bit your lip and brought your hand up to grip the neck of the opened bottle in lieu of yelling at the cook, and downed a few swallows as you watched Sanji take a seat just across from you. Your eyes connected briefly, and you seriously wanted to rip out your chest because of the way it bloomed with warmth.

This was going to be a long night.

————————————————————————

You giggled into the skin of Nami’s neck as you both stumbled side by side; your breath tickling her neck caused the other woman to giggle profusely as well, and walking now felt even more difficult than it had before.

Behind you, Usopp and Luffy also walked side by side with one arm slung over the other, Zoro walking not too far behind them and perfectly, irritatingly balanced — screw him and his inability to get drunk.

The leader of your merry little pack was Sanji, guiding the rest of his drunken crewmates with a confidence and swagger that only he could possess. It kind of pissed you off — but it also made you really, really warm at the same time. And a little wet, but you blamed that on the alcohol thrumming through your system. It was easier that way.

By the time you’d all made it back to the docked Going Merry, Usopp had keeled over and thrown up a total of two times, and had to pull a deadweight Luffy to their sleeping quarters. Zoro was quick to follow their lead and enter his own room, with the assertion that he was going to “get more sleep.” As if he needed more.

“You comin’ to bed?” Nami slurred at you, and you shook your head; you were drunk, yeah, but you weren’t exactly tired at the moment.

“I think I’m gonna go hang out in the galley.”

Definitely not because Sanji would more than likely be there, prepping the rations for tomorrow’s breakfast as he did every night. But by the raised brow and smirk Nami sent you, you knew that she knew that’s exactly why you were going.

“Alright, don’t have too much fun.” Nami teased with an affectionate bump of her hip, and you glared at her back as she swayed her way to your shared room. When you stumbled to the galley, Sanji was there, as you’d predicted, a towel thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously separated a myriad of fruits and vegetables and grains. When you entered, he gave you a charming smile, one that made you extremely weak in the knees. It seemed that the buzz of alcohol had taken away your previous irritation with the cook, and all you could feel now was a warm sort of fuzzy fondness for him — one that you were far too used to feeling.

“Hello, love. Looking for something?” Sanji asked, his accent tickling your ears in the most pleasant of ways. You loved his accent; it just made him all the more handsome and charming in your eyes. You returned his smile with one of your own and head shake.

“Nah, not really. Just wanted to hang in here for a few.” You said, padding as gracefully as you could to the sofa. It took some maneuvering to slip yourself behind the hanging table, but you were able to do so without too much fumbling. Getting drunk wasn’t something you indulged in often, and your lack of stability and coordination was a major factor to that, but your drunken mind was just as unstable as your physical body, and you were quite prone to mood swings — that’s what you were going to blame your next actions on, anyway.

“Jus’ like watching you do your thing. ‘S nice.” You mumbled, and the smile Sanji sent you warmed you from your head to your toes, and you didn’t even have it in you to hold back whatever could be showing through your eyes as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at him.

Sanji turned his focus back to his prep, and he worked while you watched in a companionable silence. As he worked, your mind began to race — your train of thought wasn’t exactly clear or obvious, and the track was definitely a little misshapen, but as always, it was Sanji on your mind. You watched his fingers, his face, his arms, his everything, and you just thought about him.

You thought about the soft little smiles he sent you, about the crystalline blue of his eyes, how easy it was to get lost in them. You thought of the delicate Cupid’s bow of his lips, of the way the parted and formed sentences that were perfectly articulated to muddle your brain and chest. You thought of his hands, large and warm and dexterous. Of his caring disposition, of the way he was always so attentive to the needs of his crew. Your heart felt as if it was swelling within your chest, and you had to force yourself to look away from him lest it completely explode.

But Sanji didn’t seem to understand that you were seconds away from combustion, because he had abandoned his prep in favor of leaning against the island counter straight across from you.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart? You seem lost in thought.”

You snapped your eyes up to meet his, and he was looking at you like that again; eyes soft and brows relaxed, lips pulled into that little smile — you swore it must be love on his face. You immediately became angry with yourself, and instead of answering him, you demanded,

“Why do you do that?”

Sanji looked taken aback, and his throat worked in such a tantalizing way as he swallowed a couple times, confusion written clear on his face when he spoke. Your anger was momentarily replaced by a very warm feeling in your gut.

“Why do I do what, love?”

“That. Talk to me that way.” You said, flapping your hand wildly in a gesture. Sanji’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action your sloshy mind couldn’t help but track and froth over. His tongue looked so soft and pink.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Sanji asked, and in a show of bashfulness that you’d never seen from the cook, broke eye contact to focus on his hands — which he quickly busied one by swiping imaginary dirt from the surface of the island counter he was leaning back against.

“No, not exactly.” You said, lips rather loose from the alcohol. “I just don’t get it.”

Sanji’s brows furrowed and his hand halted in its movement, and rather than waiting for him to respond to that, you began to ramble.

“I mean, it’s just confusing for me. You look at me in this way, and you talk to me like that, all gentle and kind, and it makes me feel special and like I mean something to you.”

Sanji was beginning to look a little bit uncomfortable, but at the moment, your brain only had the capacity to really take your own feelings into consideration — and right now, what you were feeling was confusion and anger, and you needed the answer as to why. So you rose from your seat, knocking your hip into the edge of the hanging table as you did so, but even the shock of pain lacing through your abdomen wasn’t enough to stop your advance. When you were only inches from the man, you rose your hand in a fist and pushed an accusing finger into his chest.

“And you even had me feeling like maaaaybe you felt the same way as me, but was that true? Noooo.” Vivid memories of the night in the galley, when you’d first wondered if what you felt was reciprocated, flew through your mind painfully. You knew your words were slurred and groggy, and you knew you were spilling everything right now, but damn it, it just wasn’t fair.

“It’s not true, and I know it’s not, because you act the same way towards every pair of legs you come across. I-I ju-just—”

You’d started off strong, or as strongly as you could given your drunken state, but now there were tears in your eyes, words cut off by a wet sob, and the anger in your chest had been replaced by a heavy pain. Desperation clawed your mind fiercely, and you just needed to know.

“I’ve been torn ever since we met — I don’t want to feel this way, but you always manage to give me that hope, only to t-take it a-away again. J-just tell me Sanji, please — tell it to me straight, because I’m going crazy!”

Sanji was completely silent, his lips parted in a small ‘o’ as he stared at you with wide eyes. Your finger was still stuck to his chest, and you pulled it back quickly when you noticed, but you kept your eyes fixed on his in a weak glare.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Sanji’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped with the force of the breathy laugh he released. Sanji hung his head, the laughter still bubbling from his throat. You took a small step back at the reaction, confused and heated with something akin to embarrassment, and the courage that the alcohol had given you seemed to have leaked out at some point, because now all you wanted to do was run; answers be damned.

When Sanji glanced back up at you, bright eyes slightly obscured by wisps of blonde hair, your heart skipped a beat; the smile on his face was small but genuine, and when he spoke, his voice sounded halfway exasperated and half way relieved.

“I’ve been pretty stupid, haven’t I, love?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. You knew you looked a lot like a fish, what with your eyes wide and your lips soundlessly flapping, but your throat just couldn’t produce any sound — and that ability was further stunted when Sanji gripped your wrists in his large, warm hands. Using the gentlest of tugs, Sanji pulled you forward until your nose bumped into the broad expanse of his chest, and his hands released your wrists in favor of sliding down to grip your hips softly.

Your entire body froze, skin buzzing and mind drawing blank, and the only thing you could really focus on was the rise and fall of Sanji’s chest, his warmth, the spicy cedar of his cologne, and the hold he had you in.

“Oh, darling… I’m sorry. I never even noticed…” Sanji cooed to you, chin grazing against the top of your head as he did so, and you were definitely about to spontaneously combust right there in the galley. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t moved couldn’t do anything else aside from simply short circuit in Sanji’s arms.

“I’m just flirty by nature, love, that much is true.” Sanji said, and he gently pushed you back only far enough so he could hook a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head up. Your lips were now a hairsbreadth from his, so close that you could feel every undulation of his breathing. Your heart flipped and twisted in your chest, and your skin heated, your gut tightening in a mix of anxiety and arousal that left your mind reeling.

“But all those other pairs of legs, they’ve got nothing on you. You’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for.”

Finally, you found your ability to speak — but your words were still very weak, dampened by a mixture of utter confusion and disbelief. There was no way this was happening, right?

“If I’m the only girl you have eyes for, why do you flirt with every one you see?”

Sanji’s smile was wide and dimpled, crinkling the corners of his eyes in that way that always sent your belly aflutter, and you could feel more than hear his words —

“Because I didn’t know the girl I had eyes for had eyes for me, too.”

[sluttywonwoo]

no nut november — i.n (loser #2)

pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), dry humping, messing around with clothes on

a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i's collab <3

word count: 2.9k

To say you were suspicious when Minho approached you at the surprise birthday party Jisung threw for him (over a week late) would be an understatement. He was one of the friends who would only come to you when he needed something, and you assumed this time was no different. 

“Happy birthday?” you offer, wondering if that’s what he was expecting. 

He’s unfazed by your greeting in the form of a question and just smiles, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Thanks.”

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to get to whatever it was he wanted from you but he stares right back with that stupid grin of his.

“So, um, were you surprised?” 

“Not really. Hannie talks in his sleep and he crashed while we were watching a movie together the other night. But hey, anyway, you like Jeongin, right?”

You’d have whiplash by now if you weren’t so used to Minho’s abrupt subject changes. This one, however, did manage to catch you a bit off guard. 

“Of course I do. He’s a good friend.”

“But you like him as more than a friend.” He wasn’t asking, he was stating. 

You blink, stunned. “Wh- I don’t-”

“Come on, don’t play dumb. I can see the way you look at him when you think no one’s paying attention.”

Well fuck. If Minho of all people had noticed your crush on Jeongin, who else knew? Did Jeongin know? Did everybody know?

“Relax, I'm not going to tell him,” he continues when he sees the look on your face. That wasn’t necessarily what you were worried about but good to know nonetheless. He sneaks a look at the younger member from across the room as he talks. “I just thought that you should know that he likes you too.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“You know I’m like one of his best friends, right?

“I-I mean, yeah, but...”

“And we live together, he literally never shuts up about you,” Minho adds. He raises his eyebrows expectantly but you don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t believe you… it’s just, why are you telling me?”

Minho shrugs. “Think of it as a favor.” 

“Since when have you done anyone a favor?”

“Ouch.”

“I’m serious,” you insist warily. “You’re acting weird. Why are you suddenly so invested in me and Jeongin? You have to have some kind of stake in this.”

Minho sighs and drops his head, which confirms your suspicions. “Okay, fine. Here’s the deal...”

Jeongin’s pleasantly surprised when you approach him at Minho’s birthday party. You’re one of his good friends but it’s rare that the two of you ever spend time alone together. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just gets so nervous around you. He can barely get a word out when you’re in the room, which is why when he sees you making your way across the room he prays for strength and holds his breath. 

“Hey,” you say casually, sliding into the seat next to him, and Jeongin feels his heart rate pick up almost immediately. “Bored already?”

Jeongin chuckles. “What gave it away?”

“Well, you’re sitting over here all by yourself. It wasn’t very hard to guess.”

“Yeah, I guess I should mingle more,” he sighs and puts his hands on his knees to push himself up.

“Wait, but not now! I just got here.”

Jeongin’s half-relieved he doesn’t have to move from his spot, half-panicked because now he’s forced to have this one on one conversation with you. He started sweating the minute you walked in the door how the fuck was he supposed to get through this in one piece. 

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Did you get Minho a birthday present?” you ask, thankfully skirting right past Jeongin trying to ditch you. 

He nods. “I did.”

“What’d you get him?”

“It’s a secret.”

“You didn’t get him anything, did you?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was in the mail?”

“No.”

“I forgot,” Jeongin admits sheepishly. “I always get the guys birthday gifts after the fact. I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“You can just add your name to mine, if you want,” you offer. “People group us together all the time anyway.”

“Wha- they do?” 

“Yeah, you know like whenever I show up at the dorms the boys are always like ‘Jeongin’s in his room’, ‘Jeongin will be right out’. ‘Jeongin isn’t here right now, I thought he’d be with you’. Do they not say that stuff to you?”

“Uh, no. Not really.” 

Probably because they all know about his giant fucking crush on you. 

“Oh.” 

You sound disappointed. Fuck. How does he always manage to put his foot in his mouth? 

“I mean, because they just tease me right in front of you anyway.”

“They just like giving you a hard time,” you reason. 

“So you’re on their side now?”

You crook an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were sides.”

“There are.”

“Then I’m on your side, obviously.”

“Really?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Cause you’re friends with all of us, not just me.”

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

Jeongin isn’t sure if he totally believes you but he’s elated regardless. He beams at you. 

“You’re my favorite too.”

-

He doesn’t know why, but after Minho’s birthday party, things between him and you feel different. The next time he sees you is on that Saturday, the fifth. You come over for game night like you do every weekend, and you take your spot next to Jeongin as usual. Everything seems normal. But it isn’t. Jeongin can feel it in the stiffness of your posture, in the nervous tapping of your foot against the hardwood floor. 

The night progresses as smoothly as any other game night, with Jeongin losing every single one, but he can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. 

You’re not mad at him, he knows that. You still laugh at his dumb jokes, you still let him cheat off of you, both good signs. 

When Felix calls for a break, Jeongin takes the opportunity to lean over and check in. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

You jump in your seat a little like you hadn’t been expecting him to address you, which was fair because he was usually too much of a coward to, and turn to face him. “Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yup. Just fine.”

“Not good?”

“Neither good, nor bad,” you say with a shrug. 

“Why? Is something wrong?”

You open your mouth to answer but Felix’s voice from the kitchen cuts you off as he calls out to suggest that the group of you watch a movie instead of finishing the game of Uno you were currently playing.

“You never want to watch movies,” Hyunjin says, scrunching his face in confusion. 

“Yeah, you’re only suggesting that because you’re losing!” Seungmin adds.

Felix comes into the room, hands on his hips, and lips pursed. “Do you want to watch How to Train Your Dragon or not?”

-

Seven and a half minutes later, you’re all on the couch watching Hiccup struggle with his daddy issues. Jeongin didn’t have much say in the matter but you had seemed eager to watch the movie so obviously he was… also eager. To watch the movie. 

A lot of the guys’ girlfriends were over so you asked Jeongin to share a blanket with you, seeing as there were only so many to go around. 

He agrees, of course, even though he isn’t cold. If anything, he’s overly warm. He hopes you can’t feel the heat radiating from his body. 

It’s hard to focus on the movie with you so close, not that he was really interested in it in the first place, but then you snuggle close to Jeongin and rest your head on his shoulder and his brain short circuits. You must feel his body tense because you sit back up immediately after, frowning. 

“No, you can lay back down,” Jeongin insists, going as far as craning his neck in the opposite direction to give you more room. 

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you mumble. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” he asks.

“Because you’re being all weird.”

“I’m not-”

“Hey, you two,” Jisung hisses from the other couch, “could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to watch the movie.”

Jeongin apologizes and you shift away from him, crossing your arms over your chest. He’s really done it now. He tries to remedy the situation by scooting closer but you don’t even look at him. 

From across the room, Jeongin makes eye contact with Minho, who gives him a look as if to say what the fuck are you doing? 

Minho’s been trying to get Jeongin to make a move on you for months now, claiming to be tired of listening to him pine over you from afar, but Jeongin knows his friend really just wants him to be happy, put himself out there and all that. Minho’s been especially insistent ever since the eight of them made that stupid bet. He’s somehow under the impression that if Jeongin tells you how he feels it’ll eliminate him as competition. But for that to happen, you would have to like him back. 

He doubts he’ll win No Nut November anyway, girlfriend or not. Hell, half the reason he acts so strange around you is because he’s using up all of his energy trying not to get hard. All you have to do is smile at him and his dick will twitch in his pants. In fact, he knows tonight after you go home he’ll just lay in bed, hard and aching with thoughts of you as he wills his cock to soften on its own. 

But at least he wouldn’t be the first loser. Jisung made sure of that by losing on the second day of the month. Everyone saw it coming. 

Jeongin’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of you yawning. 

“Are you tired?” he asks softly, not wanting to get scolded by his members for talking again.

“A little.”

“Do you want to lay down in my room? You could stay the night if you want, I know it’s getting late.”

“That’d be great, Innie, thanks.” You smile sleepily at him and reach for his hand. “Will you come with me? I don’t want to go by myself, I’d feel weird.”

Jeongin nods, brain going on autopilot as he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. No one questions where the two of you are going, either too engrossed in the movie to notice, or too uninterested to care. 

You flop down on his bed as soon as the door’s shut behind you. Jeongin chuckles. 

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“I will,” you hum. 

Despite the fact that the two of you don’t spend much time together, it isn’t uncommon for you to end up in Jeongin’s bed. He offers it to you whenever you decide to stay over because he doesn’t want you driving yourself home if you’re tired or if you’ve been drinking. He always takes the couch even though you’ve pointed out that his bed is big enough for the both of you. He doesn’t trust himself not to embarrass himself if he were to entertain the idea. 

“I know you wore jeans tonight so you can borrow something of mine to sleep in if you want.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can just sleep in my underwear,” you say as you start to unzip your pants. “Unless that bothers you?”

Jeongin’s eyes widen at the sight and he spins on his heel to face the wall and give you privacy. 

“N-no, that’s fine,” he squeaks out. 

“You don’t have to turn away, Jeongin. It’s not like I’m a stranger.”

He ignores you and only turns back around once he hears you slide underneath the covers, knowing that he’d instantly get hard if he did any sooner. 

“I know, I just... uh, let me know if you need anything else,” he says and heads for the door. 

“Wait,” you call after him. “Won’t you stay with me?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says slowly. 

You huff in frustration and throw back the covers. “I-I don’t understand. I should have never listened to Minho-”

“Minho? What’s Minho got to do with this?”

You look guilty all of the sudden, and Jeongin’s drops as his brian conjures up every possible scenario that involves you and Minho talking about him. None of them are good. 

“Y/n?” he prompts again. 

“He told me that he knew I had feelings for you and that you had feelings for me too, and then he told me about that idiotic bet you all made and tried to get me in on it, I guess to seduce you or something? But obviously he doesn’t know what he’s talking about because you don’t even like me!”

It’s entirely too much information for Jeongin’s brain to process at once. All he can focus on is that you have feelings for him??? 

“You have feelings for me?” he asks, dumbfounded. 

“Did you listen to anything else I just said?” you huff. 

“Not really.”

“Yes, I’ve had a big fat crush on you for forever now, thanks for noticing.”

“Really?”

“Really. Are you going to make me say it again?”

“I kind of want to,” Jeongin admits, finally feeling brave enough to approach you on his bed. 

“That’s mean.”

“Why? I have a crush on you too, silly.”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“Minho wasn’t messing with you. He was right.”

“You like me?”

“How could I not?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you scoff. 

Jeongin rolls his eyes at you and pouts. “You just make me nervous, okay? I can’t function around a pretty girl.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods and takes your hand. “The prettiest.”

He’s not sure who makes the next move, probably you, but then you’re kissing. Your arms are wrapped around Jeongin’s neck, pulling him down close to you as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Clumsily, he climbs onto the bed with you and slots himself in between your legs, moaning into your mouth a little when his hand brushes against your bare thigh. 

You already sound breathy and desperate for him and it spurs him on further, hips grinding into you instinctively. He’s practically fully hard in his sweats, there’s no way you can’t feel it, but you don’t seem to mind. If anything, it turns you on even more. 

You’re the first to break away, though, pushing on Jeongin’s chest to put more distance between you. “Wait, wait, the bet! Don’t you want to win?”

He doesn’t even need to think about it. “Fuck the bet.”

Jeongin kisses you again, letting his hands travel beneath your shirt and up to your tits. He traces your curves, outlining each one, before moving down to your underwear. It seems that you have a similar train of thought because you reach for the waistband of his pants at the same time, but he stops you with a sheepish grin. 

“This is really embarrassing, but I haven’t jerked off in like a week so I won’t last long.”

You smile against his lips. “It’s okay, Innie. We can just go again if you cum too fast. We have all the time in the world now.”

The assurance is all he needs to relax. You begin to palm him over his sweats and it becomes very apparent to Jeongin that he’s going to cum way faster than he wants to. He whines, actually whines, and bucks his hips into your hand. 

“Shhh, the others are still outside,” you remind him. 

“S-sorry.”

You giggle and pull him in for another kiss as he fumbles for the waistband of your panties, wanting to make you feel good too. He dips his thumb beneath the fabric, lower and lower until you’re moaning and arching your back off the bed. 

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you whisper. 

Jeongin keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles, while he works the rest of his hand into your underwear. He figures that if he can’t make you cum on his cock, his fingers will have to do. He’s been told that he has nice hands on more than one occasion, and he’s gotten good reviews from partners in the past, so it’s kind of like a failsafe for him. 

“Shit, you’re wet,” Jeongin breathes.

“Do you believe I like you now?”

For some reason, that’s what does it for him. He shudders and falls forward into you as he cums in his pants. 

“Oh god, sorry, sorry,” he groans. 

There’s so much of it too, it seeps through the material of his sweatpants and onto your hand and he’s mortified.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you soothe, rubbing his back as he comes down. “You told me it was going to happen, I expected it.”

“But still.”

“It really isn’t a big deal, Innie. If anything, I think it’s hot that I have that effect on you. And you can go again right?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes! Yeah, just give me like, ten minutes.”

You laugh and pet his hair. “Well in that case, I can think of a lot of things we can do in ten minutes, can’t you?”

nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka

[feelingf1]

treat you right - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x gasly!girlfriend reader

summary: you go out clubbing one night with Pierre, that’s until he leaves you at the bar to go talk with his ex. Luckily there’s someone at the other side of the bar waiting for you

warnings: badly written NSFW. going down on eachother, p in v, all that jazz

authors note: this is my first time writing smut, so it probably sucks. sorry ‘bout that

enjoy :)

—————

The Monaco air was warm and heavy as you headed into the club. Your arm was linked with your boyfriend’s, Pierre. You two were going out to celebrate Pierre’s first podium since joining Alpine. You headed down to the tables, where you had margarita after margarita. You two were chatting the whole night, and you had never really felt happier.

But that was about to change dramatically.

You noticed Pierre’s eyes focus on somebody behind you, as his conversation started to become more distant. You stroked his hand. “Hey, you okay?”

Pierre nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’ve just spotted Charles and Lando over there. Do you mind if I go and talk to them for a few minutes?”

Even though you were enjoying your private little night, you liked both Charles and Lando, and you knew how close Pierre was to the two of them.

“Yeah, go on. I’ll get us more drinks.” You smiled sweetly and got up from your table. He planted a kiss on your cheek. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

You headed over to the bar and sat up on the stool for a minute, waiting until the bar calmed down a bit before you ordered more drinks. You pulled out your phone and tuned out the world for a few minutes.

The bar finally calmed down, and you ordered your drinks and headed back down to the table. You started sipping on your margarita, until someone slid into the table, across from you.

“Hi, Pier-” You looked up from your phone to find out it wasn’t Pierre, but it was Charles that slid into the seat.

“Hey, Y/N, you look amazing tonight.” He said, whilst casually trying to check you out. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“So, when did you break up with Pierre?”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you looked at him. “What? I haven’t broken up with Pierre. I’m here with him right now. He said he was going to talk to you and Lando.”

Charles gulped and lowered his voice. “Well I’m sitting in front of you, and Lando is in London. Also he’s talking to someone, that may or may not be his ex girlfriend.”

You whipped your head around again, to see Pierre in the corner of the club, rubbing up against his ex girlfriend. You watched as he tilted her head back and started kissing her. You turned around to face Charles again.

“That motherfucker.” You said.

Charles moved from the seat across from you to the side beside you, where Pierre had been seated earlier.

“Agreed. He shouldn’t treat such a spectacular woman in such a horrible way.”

He stroked your cheek and looked lovingly into your eyes. You could feel your heart starting to beat faster, as you both slowly closed the gap between the two of you.

He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t deserve somebody like that Y/N. I’d never treat you like that. I’d make sure you’d be treated like a queen.” He said, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” You said. “Show me. Show me how I deserve to be treated.”

You were so mad at Pierre right now, you didn’t care that you were about to kiss, and probably do more, with his best friend, but weirdly, it didn’t even feel like it was wrong.

Charle cupped your jaw and he kissed you. At first it was soft and sweet, but you both began to deepen it within seconds. Charles bit your lips, begging for permission for his tongue to enter your mouth, which you granted him immediately. You felt yourself moaning into his mouth, trying desperately to make sure nobody else heard you.

As you started to deepen the kiss further, you could feel has hands traveling all over your body, lingering on your breasts and ass as he squeezed both. He guided you until you were sat on his lap straddling him.

He moved from your lips to your neck. “I’ll mark your neck princess, show everyone in the world that your mine. He would never have done that, would he?”

You shook your head. Charles really did know Pierre well, he hated PDA. Well he hated it with you. He was all for leaving marks all over his ex, but he wouldn’t even kiss your neck. Maybe he was never really into you in the first place, but Pierre was the last person on your mind right now.

You started grinding against Charles, wanting, begging for more. He made a trail of kisses down to your breasts, which were pushed up massively thanks to your bodysuit.

“Please Charles, I need more.” You whimpered and begged.

He nodded. “Yeah, but we’re going to have to move from here, you won’t be able to keep quiet when you’re screaming my name.”

He leaned into your ear. “Come back to my place, I’ll show you what your missing.”

You nodded frantically, not even having to think twice. Charles led you out of the club and he hauled a taxi to bring you both back to his apartment.

You climbed into the back and couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You had never been so thankful for a black-out screen, so the driver couldn’t see you.

Charles’ hands travelled up your thighs, until they reached your pussy. You moaned deeply as he felt how wet you were.

“So wet for me, mon amour, I love it.”

He moved your underwear aside and started fingering you. He found your clit almost immediately and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hang on long. You grabbed your tits and started massaging them.

“Charles, baby, you’re going to have to stop, I’ll come all over this taxi.”

As much as you enjoyed the PDA, you would feel terrible for making a mess in the back of this car. “Don’t worry about that, I have a solution.” He winked at you before going down on his knees in front on you.

You tried to resist but you couldn’t, as he spread your legs wide open and pulled down your underwear, leaving your pussy exposed. He didn’t waste any time before he licked a big strip, from bottom to top, before his tongue entered you.

He started to tongue-fuck you. You felt ecstatic, with the feeling his tongue hitting off of your clit. You held on to the door of the car, needing something to support you.

“Oh fuck, Charles.” You said, moaning his name. You grabbed onto his hair and guided him deeper into your pussy. “Fuck I’m gonna-”

Charles reached up and covered your mouth as your came, in some attempt to muffle your moans. He lapped up all of your juices like someone that had been starved. You collapsed into the seat, your heart beating fast. Once he was finished, he sat back up and started kissing you again.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Fuck. Yes. I couldn’t be better.”

“How much longer until we’re back at yours?” You asked, feeling the heat rising from between your legs. Whilst his tongue was spectacular, you needed something more.

“Could be 15/20 minutes. The Monaco traffic sucks in the middle of summer.”

You smirked up at him. “I know something else that can suck.”

You got down on your knees and pulled down his jeans and boxers, as his rock-hard dick sprung up. It twitched a bit after being exposed, before you started rubbing it and guiding it to your mouth.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He said.

You licked the precum off before taking all of him into your mouth, slowly at first, but then increasing your speed. You grabbed his balls and started massaging them too. You could feel him melting under you.

He grabbed your hair and started pushing himself deeper into your mouth. He tilted his head back and moaned, “Fuck. You’re insane.”

You started to gag a bit and tears were streaming down your face, but you ignored that and focused on making him come in your mouth, which you were sure he was close to doing.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come, fuck.” As he groaned, he came in your mouth, and it was your turn to lap up his cum. You wiped your mouth and sat up on the seat beside him again.

He turned towards you and lowered your bodysuit, exposing your breasts. “You’re so sexy.” He said, his breath still slightly out of control, as he starting sucking your tits and leaving hickeys all over you.

That taxi came to a stop outside of Charles’ apartment. The two of you practically ran to his door, not being able to keep your hands off each other.

Charles shut his door and backed you up against it. You kept into his arms, putting your legs around his waist as you began to suck on his neck. He carried you over to his bed and gently put you down.

He took off your skirt and bodysuit, leaving you in your lingerie set, which you had imagined that Pierre would be seeing, but you were much happier that it was Charles.

He stood back and looked down at you, nearly exposed. “Fuck me, you’re like a piece of art, you’re perfect.”

You sat up and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling him towards you. He pulled off his t-shirt to show his beautifully chiseled body. You looked down before looking up in his eyes. “Fuck me, please.”

He flipped you over so you were on your hands and knees and he started going into you, using one of his hands to hold your hip, for support, and the other to grab your tits.

You dropped onto your elbows with all the moaning he was making you do. You’d never been fucked like this in all your life. You moaned loader and loader each time.

“Scream my name. Let me hear how could you feel.”

After he hit your g-spot perfectly, that’s what you did. “Charles, fuck, oh my god.” It wasn’t long after before you came again, but it most certainly did not stop there.

“Please Charles, keep going, don’t stop.”

All of a sudden, a ringtone snapped you out of your pleasure. Charles leaned over to the side to see who it was. “It’s Pierre.”

“Fuck him. Don’t answer.” You replied back, you didn’t want to hear from Pierre now, or ever.

After a few minutes, he rang again. “Hang on amour, I have an idea.” He picked up the phone and put it on FaceTime.

“Charles, do you know where Y/N is?” Pierre asked, extremely slurred.

“Yeah, she’s under me.”

“Under you? No Charles in English you say with not under.”

“No, she’s under me.”

Charles then flipped the camera around to show Pierre how he was ramming into you, as you screamed his name again and again, unable to compress any of the moans.

He flipped the camera around again, “Don’t worry, I’ll treat her right.” He said, hanging up before Pierre got the chance to answer.

You and Charles then came at the same time. You came many more times that night, to the point you couldn’t remember who Pierre was. Charles made sure that you were his princess.

—————

you can read part two of this fanfic here

[last-starry-sky]

too sweet pt 3 - innocent!reader x graves

(original idea inspired by this post by the lovely @shotmrmiller - part 1 here - part 2 here)

NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS - MDNI: (slut shaming, a lil bit of body horror-ish stuff, pov switches, lots of pet names (as per usual lol), dub-con if you squint (reader is a bit drunk so ymmv), fingering, look me in the eyes and tell me graves isn’t the type of guy to pack heat 24/7, i’m really leaning into how much of a virgin reader is so buckle in, no hard smut (again, sorry lmao))  

You were standing around the kitchen island with your mother. It was your usual morning ritual, but this morning was different somehow. You just couldn’t place it. Things seemed . . . weird. Off. Just a little to the left of normal. Like how the sun felt a too bright, blasting in the front windows like a floodlight, far too bright for the early morning.

You squinted at the bleached out white walls and shiny tile floor as your mom was cradled your face in her hands. They were cold. Your cheeks were cold. You shuddered in her grasp, peeling her off you as you stepped back. Your foot hit the leg of a stool behind you. You plopped down, falling right into the cushioned seat.  

“How was it sweetie? You have fun?” she said picking up her coffee cup with a smile so wide you wondered if it was hurting her. 

Her voice is unbearably high-pitched and sweet; like cold syrup pouring in your ear. It took you a moment to realize you had heard those words before, that this was not a dream.

It's a memory. 

Oh yeah, you realized, this was the morning after you went on your first date. You felt the stupid smile you had walked in with return to your face. Your first date with Phil.  

The thought of him warmed your brain. His hand in yours as he led you to the front door. How he’d let you doze off in his car on the way home. How warm and protected you felt laying against him by the bonfire. The memory was comforting, creating a mix of pleasant feelings in your chest.

“Yeah mom,” you replied automatically, “had a lot of fun.” It was the exact answer you had given her that morning. 

Her hands clenched around her steaming coffee cup, knuckles white.

“Tell. me. how. it. went.” She said punctuating every word, smile gone taught; practically carved into her cheeks. 

Weird, a rouge blip of a thought came to your mind. Those were the right words . . . but her voice, the way she said them. It was far too terse. This was not how you remem- 

“Really good,” you responded on queue, still dreamy and automatic. It was like you were on a track, all of the lines already set and all you had to do was say them as they came, no matter the parts of your conscious brain screamed at you that something was wrong. You have to stop. You have to stop now.

“That’s good!” she said flipping back into her overly-happy demeanor so fast it gave you whiplash. “He seems like such a nice man. Your dad just wouldn’t stop talking about him after you left!”

That was . . . normal. You still felt weird, squirming in your seat and looking at your hands just to look at anything but her. Maybe if you kept going everything would go back to norm-

“He is nice,” you said before you could stop yourself. “So nice. I’m glad you both like him, too. We want-”

She interrupted you.

"Oh, but I don’t, honey.”  

“What?” you gasped off script, cracking away whatever part of the memory had it’s tenuous hold on you. This isn’t how this went. You remember this morning. You remember what she said. You know-

“You heard me. Whore,” she said, smile dripping off her face. Her words were like a black hole. Void of emotion and sucking you in with a terror like oblivion as the unreal brightness of the room turned dimmer and dimmer behind her.

Your mouth fell open. You tried to do something, anything: turn around, backpedal, run, but you couldn’t. Of course you couldn’t. You never can run away in a dream. You were forced to watch your mother’s face swirl off into the cheery kitchen around her as her voice turned acrid and shrill.

“Don’t play dumb with me you little slut.” Her eyes falling inward into black pits that shone back at you. Mirrors into your own guilty soul. “I know what you do when you’re alone in your room. I can hear you. And now, even that’s not enough? Look at you. I spent all that time, raising you right, taking you to church, putting the fear of God in you, and still you ended up like this. What would your father think if he saw you now? Letting a stranger touch his daughter, in public no less!”

“Mom!” you managed to gasp out, cheeks burning. How did she know? How did she find out?

“Don’t mother me!” her squaking, multitudinous voice called out, echoing around the little kitchen as a pit twisted deeper and deeper in your gut. 

“You think you’re still my little girl? Look at where you’ve done. What you’re planning to do.” You felt like God himself was there shaming you. The cup shattered in her hand, spraying blue ceramic in slow motion. “I sure hope you enjoy your night with him because you’ve made your own bed now.”  

-

The truck sways, bouncing up and down and then left to right, waking you suddenly from your soft, childlike sleep. You hear Phil mumble a quiet ‘sonofabitch’ above you as he corrected the truck with his left hand while squeezing your waist protectively with his right. You’re still right where you’re supposed to be: cuddled safely into his chest.

You crack open your eyes a slit. The cab is dark, interrupted only by the irregular pass of streetlights that flooded the cab suddenly with light only to plunge it back into inky, silent dark a second later. 

You can feel his bicep flex, tensing to hold you close, behind your head. When he’s got the truck back safely in his lane, his muscles in his arm relax. He sighs into your hair and you feel his hand move back down to your thigh, the rough skin of his fingers slowly stroked at the exposed skin south of your skirt. You sigh softly, shivering at his touch, burying your face in his shirt as you stretch yourself in his lap. 

His hand stops when you move, turning to look down at you. It lays there, warm and strong, on your thigh.

“I wake y’up, sweets?” he asked, his breath rustling your hair.

You squirmed in his lap as you shook your head, stretching your neck and wiping at your eyes. His hand tensed on your leg. 

“What happened back there?” you asked sleepily. The alcohol had made your tongue heavy and clumsy in your mouth. You could still taste strawberries when you swallowed. 

“Ah. Oh that? Just a . . . just a log in the road,” he said with a pause and a shrug. 

He patted your thigh once before reaching up to take the wheel with both hands. He let out a soft groan as he canted his hips, shuffling your body on top of him as he readjusted himself in his seat. His eyes were focused straight down the road. It made you sad to lose his touch but you understood. Out the windshield you could see the road he was driving you down, if only what was illuminated by the headlights. Pine trees thickly lined both sides of the unfamiliar two lane road, interrupted only by the odd set of mailboxes that signaled a line of houses down hidden dirt roads. Everything was dark green and black. No stars. No moon. You didn’t know he lived so far out in the country, but then again, you had never been brave enough to ask. 

“You okay?” you asked quietly, still not quite woken up. You wrapped your arm around his ribs, relaxing into him, stealing his warmth.

“Yeah,” he said moving his left hand, letting it drip down the steering wheel until it just barely hung off the bottom. “Musta been a raccoon or somethin’ in the road. Got distracted.” 

He let go of the steering wheel, bringing his hand to grip your thigh where his other hand had been just a few minutes ago, right on the hem of your skirt. His thumb swiped back and forth, gently tracing from the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh to the top of your leg. The motion sent tingles racing to your core. You moved your leg a fraction of an inch to relieve the pressure but had to bite back a moan. Oh no, you thought tipping your head against his chest. You could feel how wet you still were. 

“Saw it too late ‘n had to swerve,” he added as an afterthought. You wondered if he had taken his eyes off the road to watch you now; if he could see you with your eyes closed, lip caught in your teeth, blissed out and squirming against his leg. 

He spread his fingers, pressing his warm palm flat to your leg, as he brushed up under your dress. You let your head loll back against his bicep behind you, unable to to keep your next moan from escaping.

“Now I got you distractin’ me,” he said with a hiss into your hair, sliding his hand up further. His fingers brushed at the edge of your panties. You squirmed under him as he danced ever so close to where you wanted him. Needed him.

“Phil,” you sighed. 

You were just about to crack, to grab his hand with your own and make him touch you, when he stopped, resuming his absent stroking. 

“Hold on jus’ a little bit longer, darlin’,” he said with a squeeze to your upper thigh. “Last turn’s comin’ up.”

He slowed down fractionally, taking a wide left turn that swayed the whole truck, the driver’s side wheels falling down into the slope of the ditch before pulling back onto the road. You bounced in his lap as the truck transitioned from the rough, but still somewhat maintained, concrete country road, to dirt and gravel. The trees lined the narrow road even closer than before, choking out the light from the increasingly rare streetlights. 

He took his free hand out from your dress, nudged in between your legs and his pants and adjusted himself. He closed his eyes for but a moment and groaned as he palmed his cock. It made you blush, you weren’t exactly used to men acting like this around you, but it also made you wickedly excited. He was like this because of you. You had made this strong, older man, a soldier, race you home on a dark rainy road just so he could get his hands on you. 

He put his hand chastely on your waist for a moment, flexing his fingers into your skin. It was as if he was weighing his choices. When you sighed into his touch he let out a held in groan. His choice was made. He skimmed his hand down your body to the press of your legs. When he got to the edge of your dress, he slid his hand under, bunching it against his sleeve as he sought out his prize.

It was the tip of his middle finger that first grazed your pussy. It made you jump, his touch punching out a gasp even through the cloth of your panties. He kept going, pushing his whole hand to palm at your warm, aching core. He ground the bottom of his palm against you, fingers stroked at your weeping hole, earning a pitiful whine into his chest. The brute, indirect pressure was making your legs shake.

You grabbed at his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. His eyes stayed stubbornly on the road. “Phil . . . please,” you begged. “Please-”

He cut you off by twisting his hand, curling his fingers under the waistband of your underwear to stroke at your silken folds in a single, fluid motion. You clenched, nails digging into his arm as you squeaked out a silent Ah as your eyes flew shut. 

The truck slowed to a crawl, headlights swaying back and forth, illuminating the same frame of unfamiliar road and dark, foreboding trees, as he concentrated on slipping his fingers through your untouched pussy. His ability to drive completely shot. You were lost too in the overload of new sensations. Your wetness covered his fingers, dulling the rough texture of his skin. He used his strength to press almost too hard as he made a circuit through your labia, up to your clit, finally swirling down and around your hole. You’d never had someone else touch you there, and even your own “experiments”, alone and frustrated in your bed, hadn’t yielded very much pleasure. But this, the tingling, shooting pleasure coiling tight in your core that had you open-mouth panting. This could be something.

He took his remaining hand off the steering wheel to wrap both his arms around you, leaving his whole body flexed on to the brake like a vice. He pressed his face into your hair as he rolled his hips against you with a moan.

“Fuck, baby,” he said with a flick of his fingers across your clit that made you flinch. He was completely blissed out - his voice rough and heady. The combination made you shiver against him. “Fuck. We can’t-” he said tipping your jaw up, forcing you to face him again as a blush crept over your cheeks, “-can’t do this here.” He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your lips before pulling back, his nose sliding against yours. “Open your mouth for me now, babydoll,” he said taking his hand away from your pussy to peel your bottom lip open with his thumb, your own slick painting your jaw. 

-

Somehow, someway, he did manage to pull his brain out of his cock and drive that last stretch of road to his house. As much as he had wanted to throw his plans to the wind and just fuck you in the truck he reminded himself that this was your first time. He needed to make it good for you. 

No high school specials tonight. That wouldn’t make you stay. 

He let himself indulge in one more sleepy, dazed kiss before he mechanically went through the motions to shut off the car. Slide the clutch into park, unbuckle, radio off, lights off, turn the key in the ignition. He had to move you off his lap to get out first before he could scoop you back up into his arms to bring you inside. When he leaned in to pull you out he saw his jacket crumpled into the corner of the passenger seat. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, almost ready to fall asleep again. A corner of your bright purse stuck out. It was tangled inside his jacket, almost completely hidden. He hugged you tight to his chest as you shivered from the misting rain. Your phone was probably in there too. 

Shame, he thought as he slammed the door shut with his free hand, you’ll probably be looking for that in the morning. 

He didn’t set you down until he got to the front door, not that you protested. Your useless heels would have sunk into the mud of the lawn anyway. It was still cold night despite the weather clearing. He liked feeling of you shivering against his side in the dark as he unlocked his front door. It wasn’t longer than a moment before he had the deadbolt and door unlocked, shooing you inside ahead of him. 

You ambled in, tipsy and disoriented, in the dark, heels clacking in an unsteady gait across the wood floor. He listened with amusement as you made your way around his unfamiliar home with only the sparse outside light to guide you. Sometimes he forgot how dark it could get out here in the country. 

He stopped at the dinner table, taking his time, unloading his usual carry: wallet from his left pocket, phone from his right. Each made a light clink against his keys as he tossed them onto the table. He reached around his back and unclipped his holster from inside his slacks. His clip followed shortly. They both made a weighty thunk on the table. He rubbed at the sore spot the grip had worn into his back, suppressing a groan. It didn’t help that his holster had slid to the middle of his back, making him adjust the way he sat the whole drive home with you wriggling in his lap. 

Once his watch was off his wrist and his shoes kicked behind him, he walked silently back to the door and locked the deadbolt. The sharp CLACK of the metal had always been comforting, but now, it was exciting. A sign that everything was ready. That you were safe now. Finally. he thought with a sly smile creeping across his face. Locked inside his home (could be yours too, in a heartbeat, if you asked). With no one around for miles to bother you. Right were you were always meant to be, darling.

The only safer place you could be is wrapped in his arms, and he planned to remedy that problem as soon as he found you. 

It didn’t take much of a hunt to find you. You’d made a light thump as you found the end of the couch with your hip in the living room and had decided it was as good a place as any to lean against. He had to give you credit, you had hauled yourself up onto the arm of the sofa all by yourself. It was almost cute to watch you struggle to keep your balance as you reached down for your ankle straps, little frustrated noises falling from your lips. 

He was quiet in his socks. He could tell you hadn’t heard him when you jumped as his hand touched your knee. He laughed at it as he slid up your thigh boldly.

“Phil . . .” you said grabbing his belt, looking up with pleading eyes.  

“Need help, baby?” he teased, trailing his hand back down to hook under your knee. You let out a gasp, crumpling his shirt at his waist as your fingers clamped suddenly together. He held your hips with his other hand, hiking your leg up to his hip, allowing him to smoothly slot himself in between your legs. 

This was going so fucking well. 

It took a little bit of fiddling in the dark, but he managed to unclasp your left heel, letting it fall with a loud THUNK against the floor. It didn’t help that there was not another sound in the house beside your rasping breaths. You were such a cute little thing like this: holding on for dear life, whining into his chest, barely able to breathe already. He smoothed his hand up your leg until it met his other hand at your waist. He couldn’t help but give you a little squeeze. You yelped, head shooting up out of his chest to lay your pleading eyes on him.

He pressed his advantage immediately. He chuckled and leaned down to peck a gentle, toying kiss on your lips. His hand was already moving down to your remaining shoe as he pulled away, a small, disappointed oh falling from your lips. This time, he wouldn’t let you hide. He moved his hand from your waist to the small of your back, rough fingers catching on the smooth, clingy fabric of your dress. You were red cheeked and panting, a small ah all the noise you could make, when he pressed you forward, forcing you flush against his front. Only an inch of needy, heated space separated his cock from your barely-clothed pussy and, good fucking God, did he need it. 

Need it. Need it. Fucking need-ed-it.

Your ankle in his hand, he deftly popped your hip open. He tilted forward that last, cloying centimeter to feel you. His eyes fell shut as he pressed to you with a groan. You were so warm. He could feel it through his pants. You let out a shamefully high-pitched whine in return. He felt his trapped cock jump in his pants. He was throbbing and, fuck, so were you. He couldn’t feel it yet, but he knew you were wet. How could you not be? All that excitement in the car had to have your pussy working overtime. 

Your second heel fell to the floor. 

“Phil . . .” you whined in the silence that followed, pawing at his sides and back. His dress shirt made soft swishing noises under your nails. It was almost like music. 

He chanced looking down at you. Fuck did you look gorgeous. Your skin shimmered in the dark with sweat. The first thing that caught his eye was your breasts pushed against his ribs, that little silver cross hidden safely away, swallowed entirely by your chest. Your eyes were huge, with pupils blown wide and glassy with tears as you looked up at him. You were chewing on your bottom lip again, the irritation making it all the more red and kissable. The more blissed out and needy he made you, the more irresistible you became. 

A perfect, vicious circle. A positive feedback loop.

He let go of your ankle to place his hand on your cheek. You were beyond flush, more like burning. When he felt you fold your leg around his hip of your own volition he couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He rutted forward into you. It was a rough pleasure that did almost nothing for both of you, but it was something. A tease in this slow, slow dance he had been leading you on, a preview of what was to come, maybe even a reward for holding on this long, for doing so so well.

“Doin’ okay, sweets?” he asked, petting your burning cheek with his thumb. 

You nodded with a bat of your lashes. You straightened your back suddenly to make yourself taller when you saw him leaning down to kiss you. You were still so excited, enthusiastic. 

Trusting. 

He let all the chains come off. Long gone were the quick, chaste pecks at your front door. The ones that drew you into him. A delicate summer moth hypnotized by a porch light, never to escape. Even the “real” kisses he’d had with you outside the restaurant and in the truck were blown away. He held your jaw open with an iron grip while he forced his tongue in your mouth. He was sloppy, aggressive, taking what he wanted. He would only momentarily break away to nip at your open, panting lips, before diving back in. It amazed him how submissive you were. You weren’t fighting him in any way, just let him control everything while you let out an occasional moan or whine. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to figure out why that was. 

You’d never been kissed like this before. How could you have an opinion on how you liked it when you’d never- Fuck, he forgot. How could he forget? You’d never done anything before. He’s got a little virgin in his hands, whining and squirming, practically begging for it. 

Hmm, he thought. Could he really . . . could he make you beg for it?

He squeezed the side of your thigh as he rolled another thrust against you, groaning against your lips. You yelped at the pain of his fingers biting into your skin, but it dissolved into another high-pitched whine. Fuck, could listen to that all night. Your legs tightened around his waist, keeping him close. 

“Phil,” you sighed as he rolled his hands up your thighs, dragging your dress up with it. “Phil please.”

Oh fuck, he thought. She’s really going to do it.

“Please what, darlin’?” he asked hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours, watching you squirm as he tried to pull your dress out from under you.

“Please . . .” you trailed off shyly, trying to make him stop by pawing at his hands. Not that you could.

“Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said voice drawn gruff and dry. 

He balled the stretchy fabric of your dress in his fists and pulled. It resisted, pulling ever so slowly from where it was trapped under you. The sound itself was delicious tension. More music to his ears. It was a long, soft noise as the knit stretched to it's limit in the quiet of the room. You tried to turn your head away, to hide your pants and whines, but he prevented it by shoving his face into your neck. He kissed and nipped at your neck until, without fanfare, your skirt popped out from under you.  

You slammed a hand to his chest before he could make another move. This time, he obeyed you. 

“Phil!” you plead, red faced from embarrassment, “Can we . . . can we not- um can we go . . . ” You caught your breath for another couple moments, wiggling your knees on either side of his waist, before turning to him. “Can we do this in your bed . . . please?” 

He hauled you up by your thighs, throwing you up onto his chest without another word. You scrambled to throw your arms around his neck as he backed away from the couch. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered into the side of your head.

[crucifiedfaerie]

Nicotine Stains | Pt. 2 ༉₊˚✧

Modern!Kylo x Fem!Reader AU

➴ Summary: As your relationship with Kylo grows behind closed doors, so does your worry and confusion about what exactly you are to him.

➴ Part One

➴ Word Count: 5.2k

➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dom!kylo, modern!delinquent!kylo au, smoking, swearing, quite a bit of angst, kylo is a stupid man who doesn't know how real relationships work apparently, he also doesn't know what communication is, reader is in her head about it, mutual pining, finnpoe my loves make an appearance (its canon to me idgaf), fluff, kinda hurt with comfort, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, car sex, softdom!kylo, kinda breeding kink ?? oops), typos probably

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams @beautifulbluejay @mochiseni )

A/N: im alive !!!!! holy shit i promised this would be out in like november. oops. the writers block has been so real im sorry. now that i have this out though, chapter two of growing pains will be coming next !! i promise i didn't abandon that.... anyways i hope you enjoy !!

masterlist

You impatiently sat, knees tucked beneath you and head resting on the back of your family’s couch so you could look out the window. The men in your life had been away for a week and a half, and while you couldn't deny having Finn out of your hair for once was like a peaceful vacation in itself, you missed Kylo like crazy. Having to look at his sleek, black Charger parked in front of your house every time you looked out of your window didn't necessarily help either.

When he told you Finn had asked him to tag along on their annual camping trip, you couldn't help but laugh. The image of Kylo trying to fit his tall, broad frame into a tiny shared tent with your father and brother was too hilarious to you.

"What’s so funny, kid?" He had laughed back at you.

Usually, Poe was the one to go on those trips with your brother and father, but with him away at pilot school, Finn had been lonely recently. He wasn't expecting himself to take it so hard, but gods did he miss Poe. Despite missing Kylo, you were glad he agreed to go and keep Finn company. Your father, of course, was also overjoyed to hear that Kylo would be joining.

Your eyes lit up as your father's beat-up car pulled into the driveway. You watched as they unpacked the car and exchanged words you couldn't hear before Kylo parted ways and headed to his car with his bag hanging off his shoulder. When he reached the driver's side door, he noticed you in the window and gave you a subtle wink before getting into the Charger and pulling away. 

Part of you was expecting... hoping for him to come in, but you should have known he wouldn't. It's not like your family knew of your weird relationship that had been blossoming for the past month. You couldn't help but still feel a little disappointed, you hoped maybe he would have just said fuck it and come in and kissed you. Maybe he didn't miss you as much as you had missed him? Your heart sank at the idea. 

The mixed signals Kylo had been giving you were starting to give you whiplash. One minute he would be in your room treating you like you're the only person in the world who matters to him, and the next he'd be standing in the kitchen talking to Finn or your mother, not even giving you so much as a glance. 

The thought of asking him about what exactly the two of you were honestly made you wanna die. You didn't want to come off as clingy and ruin whatever it was you had, but the twinge of hurt that came with every time he ignored your presence was starting to become… too much. 

You sighed and walked upstairs to your room, feeling defeated. You practically collapsed in your chair before putting on your headphones and starting on some schoolwork, attempting to think about anything but Kylo. 

A thump muffled by the music in your ears broke you from your calculus-induced trance. When you turned around in your chair you were met with Kylo on your bedroom floor, who you assumed had just fallen through your window. You giggled at him, pulling your headphones down to rest around your neck. 

He groaned before sitting up and smiling at you. "I meant to do that." 

"Sure." You laughed, getting out of your seat to join him on the floor.

Kylo leaned against the wall, pulling you into his lap. He gave you a quick kiss before pulling away and looking down at you with those pretty brown eyes you can never seem to get enough of these days. "I leave for nearly two weeks to go into the middle of nowhere, and I can't even get a text from my girl when I get home?" He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You felt the warmth creep across your cheeks at the way he called you his. "I got carried away with homework, I didn't even realize what time it was." You glanced at the window behind him, noticing the dark indigo hue of the sky.

Kylo smiled, peppering small kisses down your jaw. "What were you listening to?" He lightly tapped your headphones with his long fingers. You took them off before carefully placing them over his ears. "Chevelle? I see my good taste continues to rub off on you kid." He grinned.

"Don't be so full of yourself. My dad loves Chevelle, I got it from him." You laughed, taking the headphones from him and tossing them into your chair. Kylo smiled before standing up, taking you with him, and setting you on your bed gently. His kiss was needy, and he slowly pushed you backward until you were lying down.

He pulled away, out of breath slightly. "Do you know how much I missed this? You were on my mind every night I was there... I couldn't even jack off because we were in that stupid tent..." He paused, shutting his eyes. "You didn't hear that." 

You giggled. "You jerk off thinking about me? Are you obsessed with me or something?"

Kylo laughed, rolling his eyes. "You idiot." He attacked your face with kisses that tickled, causing you to let out a half scream. "Shhh kid, your mom's gonna think you're being murdered up here." 

As if he had summoned her, you heard a knock at your bedroom door. Kylo quickly stood up from your bed, rushing over to your closet and maneuvering himself inside before shutting the door quietly.

You shook your head at him, stifling a laugh and taking your seat back at your desk, pretending to look like you were doing something. "You can come in." 

Your mother opened the door with a soft creak. "Were you talking to someone?"

You quickly fabricated a lie. "I was just on the phone with a friend from my class." 

Your mom nodded, briefly glancing around your room. "I actually came up here to tell you to ask Kylo if he's coming to dinner on Friday. I meant to ask when they came home earlier, but he left so fast I missed him." 

Your hands felt sweaty. Why would she ask you to ask him? Did she know? "Why wouldn't you ask Finn to talk to Kylo?" 

She leaned on the doorframe slightly. "Well he's been driving you to and from class a lot recently, just ask him for me tomorrow would you? And you better make sure to thank that boy for driving you around! It's very nice of him."

It took everything in you to hold back the laugh that threatened to surface. You just knew Kylo was doing the same. "Yeah, I'll ask him." You had almost forgotten you had class in the morning. Fuck.

"Thank you. Goodnight, I love you." She began to shut your door. "Remember. Tell him thank you." 

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, I love you." You laughed as you listened to her footsteps disappear down the hall.

You leaned forward in your chair to open your closet door. Kylo chuckled softly. "Is there something you needed to say to me?... Sorry, I couldn't hear the conversation very well with this door in the way." He smirked, taking a step towards you. 

"Oh shut up." You smiled back at him. 

He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his long arms around you. Your face pressed into his shirt, the smell of blackberries and pomelo from his cologne filling your senses. "It's fine, you can thank me in different ways." He whispered into the top of your head.

You giggled nervously, feeling your face get hot again. "Yeah?"

Kylo took your face into his hands and leaned back as if to study you. "Yeah..." He smirked. "But not tonight, you have class tomorrow, remember?" He kissed you again before letting you go and making his way towards your window. 

You groaned at him. "Why not just stay the night?" You asked sweetly, following him.

He smiled down at you with adoration. "What, so we both wake up late and you miss your class? Your parents would hate me." Kylo smirked

My mother and father could never hate you, stupid.

"Fine." You sighed, not having the courage to argue.

He leaned down and kissed you again, deeper this time. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" 

"Okay." You said it so quietly you weren't sure if he even heard it. He ducked out of your window, shutting it quietly. You watched as he climbed down and went to his car in the darkness. Once his tail lights had disappeared at the end of your street, you collapsed onto your bed, allowing your body to succumb to sleep and silence your racing mind. 

Friday afternoon, you sat at the table in your overly warm kitchen, trying to finish some classwork as your mother cooked. The sound of the doorbell made your heart leap out of your chest. You'd been anticipating today all week and while you were hoping it was Kylo at the door, a part of you was also hoping he'd show up late so you wouldn't have to endure getting ignored by him so much.

You heard your dad open the door. "Hi Son, what a pleasant surprise!" You felt your palms get clammy. "Finn! Come down here!" Your father shouted up the stairs. You craned your neck to look around the corner and see who it was, hearing Finn's quick footsteps as he made his way down the steps. 

It was Poe. He stood in the foyer, dressed nicely but still wearing that worn, brown leather jacket he always wore. He held a bouquet of orange and white lilies. You smiled, those were Finn's favorite. 

"Poe!" Finn nearly knocked Poe over with how quickly he hugged him. "You said you wouldn't be back until summer!" 

Poe wrapped his arms around him, laughing. "You know I had to surprise you." He pressed a kiss to Finn's forehead. "Hey, don't crush the flowers, they barely made it on the trip down here." 

Finn pulled away, beaming at him. He took the flowers into his hands before kissing Poe.

You looked at your mother, who was grinning almost as wide as Finn was. "Aren't they just adorable? When you find someone, they better treat you as good as Poe treats Finn." She smiled at you. You gave her a weak smile back and nodded, looking back at the textbook in front of you. 

You couldn't help but wish Kylo would do that. Showing up at your door with flowers, instead of sneaking through your window no later than 11 pm to smoke weed and fuck. It wasn't like your parents wouldn't approve of him... they have always adored Kylo for no reason at all. You attempted to focus on the pages in front of you, it was ridiculous to dwell so deeply on a man you weren't even actually sure was yours.

Kylo showed up fashionably late of course. Your mother beamed at the sight of him standing in the entryway. "Kylo honey, I was worried you weren't going to come. Go ahead and sit." 

He smiled sweetly at her. "You know I wouldn't miss your wonderful cooking for anything." To your surprise, he took the seat right beside you, something he never does when he's over for dinner. 

Other than small glances, Kylo did not acknowledge your presence at the beginning of dinner. He mostly caught up with Poe and talked cars with your father. As you picked at the food on your plate, you felt a large, warm hand rest on your thigh. When you turned your head to look up at Kylo, he seemed unphased, deep in conversation with Poe.

"How is pilot school treating you, man?" Kylo asked, his one hand inching further up your thigh as he took a bite from his fork with the other hand. 

You felt warmth creep across your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together, causing his grip on you to tighten slightly.

He cannot possibly be serious? The fucking dinner table?

You looked at him again, chewing on the inside of your mouth and attempting to relax as much as you could. Kylo glanced down at you briefly, a sly smirk playing at his lips and his pupils large. He turned back to his conversation with Poe as he inched his long fingers underneath your skirt, brushing them against your clothed cunt.

You felt a moan threaten to escape your lips so you pretended to clear your throat, causing Kylo to fight back a grin. He was enjoying this way too much... This was all too much. You quickly grabbed his hand in an attempt to keep him from going any further. Thank god for your mother's tablecloth or everyone would have seen what was happening. 

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the obvious flush on your face, but your mother had noticed something was up. "Is something wrong sweetheart?" 

You tried to think of something, anything reasonable to say but your brain felt so foggy. 

Oh you know, Finn's best friend and so-called 'angel' in your eyes is playing with my cunt under the dinner table but doesn't have the decency to take me out on a date, no biggie.

"I'm fine, it's just really hot in here." You managed to get out, fiddling with the neck of your sweater. Kylo had removed his hand which was now resting on your knee. You sighed, silently thanking the gods of every pantheon you could think of. Moaning in front of your entire family at dinner wasn't exactly ideal. Despite the wetness growing in your panties, you wanted nothing more than to strangle him right there.

The rest of dinner was a blur, and at some point, Finn, Poe, and Kylo had disappeared to the basement, most likely to drink and play video games. This allowed you to sneak away to your room, the noise from the TV downstairs dissipating into a soft murmur as you shut your bedroom door behind you.

-

"FINN! I'm getting obliterated over here and you're on the other side of the map fucking around!" 

"I'm literally almost there calm down!" 

Kylo sat on the couch, listening as Finn and Poe bickered over the game they were playing, loud gunshots and explosions emanating from the television as Poe was, in fact, being obliterated. 

His knee bounced up and down nervously. As much as he enjoyed seeing Poe again and playing video games like old times, all Kylo could think about was seeing you again. 

You had seemed a little off today, did he do something wrong?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking a few minutes to type, delete, and retype his message to you, finally deciding on something lighthearted. 

Kylo: where'd you disappear to kid? you're missing out on some riveting gameplay down here.

The blue glow of his screen illuminated in his hands a few minutes later, and he felt a wave of excitement course through his body when he saw that you had responded. 

♡: i forgot i had a paper i needed to finish.

Kylo frowned at his phone, it was 9:30 pm on a Friday. Surely he had done something to upset you. He sighed before trying to formulate another text to send back to you.

Finn’s voice pulled him from his anxious thoughts. “There are more beers in the garage, I’ll be right back.” Kylo watched as he kissed Poe quickly before sprinting up the stairs.

“So,” Poe started, leaning closer with a grin on his face. “Any new girls or are you still fixated on your best friend's sister?” 

Kylo groaned, knowing this would come up. “That was in middle school, I wouldn’t have told you then had I known now you’d still be bringing this up years later.” He laughed nervously.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ren.” Poe laughed. “Elementary, middle, high school… Hell, four months ago before I left, you were talking about her.” He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth before continuing. “I don’t know why you won’t just go for it. Their parents already love you, I don’t think it’ll be a big deal like you think it will be.”

“You don’t get it Poe, they like me as Finn’s friend. She’s in college and I have nothing ahead of me except a court date for a speeding ticket next week. But if you must know, we’ve been… talking and hanging out for the past month and I’m pretty sure I’ve already made her mad at me so… yeah.” Kylo said tiresomely. 

Poe’s eyes lit up. “What the hell dude? Were you just not going to tell me-”

“We got lucky, there was only three left.” Their conversation was cut short, to Kylo’s relief, by Finn coming down the stairs holding three crisp cans of beer, the condensation leaving a damp mark on the front of his shirt.

“I was actually about to head home.” Kylo said, standing from the old, sunken couch. 

Finn groaned in protest, setting the cans on the water-stained coffee table. “Just stay for another game or two, I’ll let you take my spot.” 

“Yeah, just another game or two.” Poe chimed in, his eyes wide, silently pleading with him to stay in hopes Kylo would tell him more. 

“Sorry guys, I’m just really tired tonight.” Kylo shot Poe a look. “I’m coming back over tomorrow.” With Finn’s back turned momentarily, he took the opportunity to mouth “Drop it.”

“Fine, but no flaking out on us or we will drag you out of your home.” Finn smirked.

Kylo nodded in agreement, laughing slightly, before making his way up the stairs into the kitchen. Your parents had already gone to bed, the refrigerator humming and ticking clock being the only noise that filled the quiet darkness. 

He silently made his way up the stairs to your room, taking a breath once he reached your door before opening it slowly. Once inside, he noticed your empty desk chair and your computer which cast a soft glow on you, lying face first on your bed. You turned your head to look at him.

"Making really great progress on that paper I see." He smirked at you, that stupid smirk you love to hate and hate to love. 

"I'm tired." That was all you could manage to say to him. After his stunt at the dinner table and his general behavior in the past month, you honestly wanted nothing more than for him to just go away.

“What's wrong pretty girl?” Kylo’s voice was soft and sweet like honey. You felt the bed dip beside you and two strong arms wrap around you. “Are you mad at me for dinner? I-” 

You sat straight up to look at him, causing him to stand up from your bed. “Yes! Yes, I’m mad at you for dinner.” You shouted at him, as much as a whisper would allow you to. “You don't even have the decency to come through the front door most times, and when you do, you act like I don't exist. I don't understand you, if I had known I'd just be a fuck buddy to you I wouldn't have given you my virginity in the first place.”

For a few moments, Kylo stared at you. He looked surprised but there was a softness and concern in his eyes. “That isn't all you are to me, I promise… I just... feel like I'm not good enough for you sometimes.” 

You sighed, collapsing back into your pillows. Your capacity to care or argue with him was spent. “I wish you had figured that out before you invited me out onto the roof to smoke with you.” 

The room was quiet for a few moments before you heard the sound of your window opening and closing. He left your house wordlessly, with nothing but dead silence left in his wake. 

You felt hot tears sting at the corners of your eyes, regretting nothing more than ever allowing Kylo to get close to you. 

Asshole.

You hadn't realized you’d fallen asleep until you were woken up to the sound of your phone ringing. Lifting your head from your tear-soaked pillow, you tried to adjust your eyes to the brightness of your phone to see who was calling you so late.

Kylo.

You nearly groaned, debating whether or not it was a better idea to just ignore him. You ultimately decided against your better judgment.

“What do you want?” You spoke sleepily into the phone.

“Just come down here for a moment.”

You got up and looked out your window. Kylo stood in front of your house, leaning against his car with his phone pressed against his face. “No.” You were about to hang up on him before you heard his voice again.

“You can hate me, that's fine. I just want to show you one thing.” There was a quick desperation to his voice. “Please.”

“Fine.” You sighed, hanging up the phone before slipping your shoes on quickly and opening your window. Once on your roof, you had wished you’d grabbed a jacket. The cold, midnight air nipped at your exposed arms, causing you to shiver. 

You climbed down your mother's trellis, taking extra care not to crush any of the vines that would bloom beautifully in the spring. 

You felt the frozen dew from the grass brush across your ankles as you made your way to Kylo’s car and watched as he opened the passenger side door for you. The warmth of the car interior enveloped you as you sat down, and once fully inside, he shut your door before practically running around his car to his side. 

He pulled away from your house with a roar from his engine, and you hoped your parents didn't hear it. 

“Where are we going?” You asked unamused. 

“Somewhere I like to go when I want to be alone... I think you’ll like it.” Kylo said softly, glancing at you once before focusing on the road again. 

You sighed, watching as he pulled onto a backroad. The canopy of trees shaded the car from the moonlight, only the glow of the radio dimly illuminating the interior. 

“You really shouldn't have, you know… Taking me somewhere nice like the forest before murdering me.” You said sarcastically.

Kylo laughed. “Where else would I dispose of the body? Suburbs are much too populated.” He joked, reaching for his cigarettes before offering one to you. 

You tried to hide the smirk that played on your lips, hating how easily he could make you laugh. You accepted the cigarette, watching as the trees cleared to reveal a moonlit lake. 

Kylo put the charger in park, before turning in his seat to face you. “I’m sorry I've treated you the way I have this past month.” He reached up to light your cigarette for you, not breaking eye contact. He ignited his own, taking a few puffs before continuing. “I've always been so scared of not being good enough for you or living up to your family's standards… and now I've allowed my fears to hurt you. But I can assure you you're way more than just a quick fuck to me, I can't apologize enough for making you feel that way.” 

You watched as Kylo reached into his back seat for something, retrieving a stack of small notes and colored paper. He smiled nervously before handing them to you. 

As you flipped through them in silence, you tried to make sense of what you were looking at. In the stack were dozens of notes and cards all in his handwriting, some more recent and some that seemed to have been written by a much younger Kylo. You looked up at him, no longer able to hide the smile on your face. 

“I would write them and always get way too nervous to give them to you… but I kept them anyway.” Kylo said nervously, speaking quickly. “I've liked you since we were children, Poe always-”

You cut him off with a kiss, his warm lips immediately melting into yours as he kissed back with need and desire. Kylo extinguished his cigarette in his car's ashtray before traveling his hands up to hold your face.

After a few minutes, he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath. Still cradling your face in his hands, Kylo looked at you with a gaze so soft, that you thought you'd melt into a puddle on the floor of his Charger. 

He spoke softly. “Be my girlfriend. Say you'll be mine and my fears will be far behind me, I promise.” 

You beamed at him, nodding quickly. “I'm yours.”

Kylo’s lips connected with yours once again and he kissed you feverishly. He reached down to fiddle with something before his seat extended back with a dull thump. Without ever breaking the kiss, Kylo pulled you with him to the backseat, laying you down so he was hovering above you. 

You quickly fumbled with his belt, trying to blindly undo the clasp. He brushed your hands away, kissing his way down your now trembling body and stopping just above the waistband of your pants. Hooking his fingers into them, he quickly and expertly removed both your pants and underwear in one go, exposing your bare cunt to the cool air of his car. You watched as he threw your clothes somewhere into the dark void that was the front seat. 

You whined, pushing your thighs together for warmth and friction, which Kylo promptly used his strong hands to open again. “Not so fast, my little star. I wanna take my time with you tonight.” He smirked up at you. 

Half-kneeling on the floorboard of the car, Kylo peppered kisses up and down your inner thigh, causing you to shiver in his grasp. After what felt like eons of teasing, he finally placed a kiss just below your pubic bone before licking a stripe up your slit. 

You moaned, tangling your fingers into his long, dark locks as he began to feast on you. Your body felt full of electricity as if you were going to spark and short circuit at any moment. 

He was unrelenting with his tongue, and you felt yourself nearing your climax. “Kylo!” You whined desperately. 

“Hm? What is it, pretty girl?” He mumbled against you, not faltering once in his attack on your now very sensitive clit. 

“You’re g-gonna make me cum already, stop.” You breathed out. 

You could feel him smirk against your heat. “That's fine. Go ahead, cum for me.” He hummed.

Your head felt light and your body electric as you came, your vision blurring as you rode your high on his tongue. You only noticed he had stopped when you came to and saw him wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark hair messy and pupils blown with lust. 

“You taste so fucking good.” He breathed as he undid his belt, “I can't believe I waited a month to do that.” 

Laughing weakly, your head still fuzzy from your high, you admired him as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his pale chest littered with beauty marks. He looked so angelic the way the moon behind him cast his frame in an almost halo-like glow. You watched as he freed his erect cock from the tight confines of his jeans. 

Kylo kissed you as he lined himself up with your entrance, pausing momentarily to hold the side of your face in his hand and smile at you with adoration. “I wish you could see how pretty you look right now… How pretty you always look.”

You whined, still unable to form a coherent sentence and wrapping your arms around his broad frame. You felt him push his cock inside you slowly, and he watched as your eyes rolled back into your skull in pleasure. 

You moaned into the crook of his neck as he began to move, thrusting into you gently. His hand traveled up your shirt to cup your breast while he used the other to keep the back of your head from hitting the door handle. 

Kylo’s pace quickened, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you with every thrust. “You’re gonna m-make me cum again, you f-feel too good.” You breathed.

“I’m not gonna stop you, baby. Cum on my cock as many times as you need.” He smiled down at you, slightly out of breath as he neared his own climax. 

You came undone beneath him for the second time that night, loudly moaning his name and whatever expletives your brain thought of first, not having to worry about the possibility of waking your entire family as you both bathed in the moonlight that slipped through the now foggy windows of Kylo’s Charger. 

“Hm- Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Kylo moaned into your ear. 

“Please cum in m-me. I love you.” You whined. Your mind was so foggy from cumming twice that you had lost your inhibition completely and it took you a moment to realize what you just said to him.

You didn’t have much time, however, to worry about it for too long as Kylo let out a moan you had never heard from him before, a sound of need and desperation. “Fuck- Fuck! I love you too.”  He came to a halt deep inside you, before filling you with his cum. 

He breathed heavily on top of you, staring down at you with shock and adoration. “I love you too.” He repeated, completely out of breath. When he pulled out, you felt his cum drip down your thigh as he quickly retrieved his shirt from the darkness of the floorboard to clean you up. 

Kylo peppered kisses up and down your body before pulling you into his lap to hold you in his arms, and you watched as he lazily drew a heart in the condensation that had collected on the window. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, thinking only of how comfortable you felt in his presence. 

You didn’t get home until 4 am and slept through most of the morning. You awoke to your father yelling at you from downstairs saying something about how there was somebody there to see you. Confused and still tired, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes as you made your way to the stairs. 

You stopped in your tracks at the top of the steps. Kylo standing in your foyer waiting for you was the last thing you expected. He had cleaned up nicely, trading his usual rotation of black band tees for a nice, dark button-up, and in his hands he held a bouquet of pink lilies. He smiled nervously up at you.

“Hi?” You beamed at him, laughing slightly.

“Hi,” Kylo smirked, looking down the hall towards the kitchen, where your dad had disappeared to, before continuing in a lower tone only you could hear. “I thought I’d try the front door this time.”

[sohnric]

BELOVED — E. SOHN

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers. angst, fluff. the tiniest bit of swimmer! eric for some reason. wrote this in a moment of weakness handle with care!! :~)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: reader is said to be red in the face from the cold (alludes to specific skin color - im sorry i wrote this for me only and yall just get to read it), swearing, insecurity and jealousy, unspecified mental illness (?)

a/n: once again thank you to @csenke for beta reading and encouraging me to post this :p and also for existing. ily <3 btw swimmer eric is such a concept it gave us both whiplash maybe i need to revisit this in a full fic....

The coldness of the crisp evening makes you sniffle, your bones freezing and fingers going numb even in the comfort of your coat pockets. Your brain is full of thoughts fighting amongst each other, running around and hitting the corners of your head, slowly causing you an annoying migraine. You now regret not taking your headphones with you, because the music could help you drown out the noise of your inner voice, but the you from an hour ago that decided to go on a walk to clear your head had other plans for you, so you now have to suffer the stream of your thoughts instead. The stream is so loud you swear you can hear it resonating through the silent campus, but you know that’s a foolish thought, so you fight it away with a bitter chuckle.

Eyes zeroing on the orange fluorescent lights coming from inside of the building you’re standing in front of, you start feeling a little silly for coming here. It’s not like you think you’d be sent away, but there’s also that little bugging voice inside of your brain that keeps reminding you that you weren’t invited. Your feet have dragged you here without your consent or order. One moment, you were walking down the river, shuddering from the cold, and the other, you found yourself in front of the pool– as if the tugging of your heart was stronger than your own brain, stronger than your own thoughts.

Sometimes you feel bad for taking it all out on him. At least that’s what you suppose you’re doing– with your annoyed remarks whenever he checks in on you, with your sighs whenever he asks what’s wrong. It’s not like he’s incorrect with his suspicions– he always somehow knows you’re in a bad mood, no matter how hard you try to mask it– you just don’t often feel like discussing the matter with him. Or anyone, really. Sometimes, you feel bad for pushing him away or not texting him back. Sometimes you feel truly shitty for the fact that you can’t open up to him, no matter how hard you try. 

And sometimes, you just truly think that he wouldn’t care. It’s weird how your mind works– someone could spend so much time with you, making memories together and laughing at your jokes, yet, your mind could convince you that they don’t really like you at all in the first place. That this is some sort of a game they’re playing, trying to see how long you can stay convinced that they enjoy your presence in their life before you notice and they step away. You don’t even know where this conviction is coming from. If you knew, maybe you could fix it. If you could locate it, you’d try to delete the flawed code from your system. 

Sometimes, you think he doesn’t care about how you are, what you’re doing, what you think. It has nothing to do with the way he treats you; more so with the anxiety nibbling at the corners of your brain whenever he talks to anyone else– with the constant fear of being replaced, of having him find someone better, someone less difficult to be friends with. In its full essence, the image is terrifying. You think your world would crumble if you lost another person in your life.

More so, you think your world would crumble if you lost him. You recognize that there’s a constant desire in the depths of your heart to be someone’s favorite– his favorite– to be the person someone would choose in a room full of people. To be the one they walk up to first with a smile and their arms wide open. 

And it’s silly. You’re his best friend. He tells you so every day. It’s the way you’re introduced to everyone out of his circle that you meet on parties or at campus.

Admittedly, you like hearing him say it. Best friend– the title shows you’re the best at something: at being his companion, at making him laugh, at being there for him, whatever it is that you do to earn that sticker. The title shows that you’re somebody’s favorite– his favorite– and it makes you deeply satisfied with yourself. It makes you proud, even. 

Some days, you still have a hard time believing it, though. Some days, you still feel stranded. Lonely. Isolated. It’s weird. 

Somehow, your heart, your feet and the unconscious part of your brain took you right where you knew you’d find him. You didn’t choose to go here– if you realized you were nearing the building, you would’ve even tried to stop yourself– and as you contemplate turning on your heel and going back home, hell, you even take the first step away from the pools, the sound of the main door opening and his voice calling for you makes you halt in your movements, gluing you to the pavement. 

Sometimes, the heart knows what it needs even before you get a chance to register it.

“Y/N! How long have you been standing there?” he calls after you, making you bite down on your lower lip. There’s no escaping him now– you guess it’s for the better, though.

Turning towards him, a guilty look spreading over your features, you shrug. “Not long.”

“It’s freezing out here! Why didn’t you come inside?” he asks, a wrinkle forming in between his eyebrows as he walks closer to you, his friends from the swim team patting his back and saying their goodbyes to the two of you as they pass the commotion on their way out.

“I didn’t want to intrude your practice,” you peep, sniffling a little from the cold.

“Gosh, you always do this,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He almost looks mad at you, and by the way he raises his voice and throws his arms in the air in frustration, you think you’re correct with assuming he might be. “I texted you the whole day! Hell, I called, even though I know how much you hate phone calls. And I get that you probably didn’t feel like talking, but a simple ‘I'm okay, don’t worry’ text would’ve been nice!”

Dragging his hand through his hair in defeat, he shakes his head at you. “Besides, you can’t just keep shutting me off every time you are having a hard time, for god’s sake! Not only do I worry, but I hate seeing you suffer all alone.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you listen patiently to his lecture. You know he’s right– he almost always is, because the rational side of your brain ceases to exist every time your insecurities fail you– so there’s really no aim in trying to argue or fight with him. 

Eric sighs as he steps even closer to you, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder before he reaches for the hood of your jacket and puts it over your head. “You could’ve texted me you were here, I’d leave practice early for you,” he says, voice now softer as he stands in front of you, not really wanting to scream straight into your face. 

You shrug in response, not really knowing what to say. Telling him you contemplated leaving  just seconds before he found you here would make him even more mad with you, so you choose to gloss over that fact. Besides, it’s kind of comforting, the way his words work. The way his presence calms you, makes the screaming match of your thoughts drown out with his firm comments and scolding remarks. His words, although full of frustration, make your insides warm up and your muscles relax, like you’re coming undone.

His face shows concern. His actions speak even louder than his words when he tugs the sides of your hood closer together at your neck, the hole for your head previously exposing your bare skin and making you shiver. “Couldn’t you dress more warmly? Do you want to catch a cold?” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “You scutter here all unannounced, wearing close to nothing, and expect me to not be frustrated with you?”

You study his expression for a while. It’s not often you get to see Eric from so up close, but even in the darkness of the evening, you recognise the familiarity of his close-to-flawless features. Anchoring yourself into his gaze for a second, you move to study the sculpture of his cheekbones, the furrowed nature of his brows, the slope of his cupid’s bone. His hair falls into his eyes, making you instinctively drag your hand up and move his bangs out of the way, having the male wince at the contact of your fingers with his skin. “Hell, your hands are cold! You didn’t even take gloves? It’s minus five degrees outside!” he grunts.

It makes you chuckle. You did something nice for him, yet, there he is– complaining about the fact that you have yet again failed to take care of yourself. “I’m not even surprised, y’know, since you didn’t put on a scarf either, but sometimes I wish this little brain of yours,” he point his finger to the side of your temple, “had better self-preservation instincts,” he finishes as he fishes for something in his pocket.

Taking out his own gloves and holding them up to you so you can slip your numb fingers into the fabric, he continues on with his little tangent. “Next time,” he adds when you’re successfully wearing the warm garment, “text me as soon as you get here, okay? And look outside before you go out, so you know what to wear. Maybe open that little weather app on your home screen, even. Might be helpful,” he jokes, although a little dryly, as he brings out a scarf from his duffel bag, tying it around your neck and almost suffocating you with how tight he wraps it, making sure you’re defrosting under his tender care.

When he’s done dressing you up like a doll, you’re left staring at him speechless. Eric reciprocates the gaze, something gentle, yet worried mirroring behind his dark orbs. There’s comfort lingering in the air now that you’re not so cold, and with the added essence of his existence, the act of living doesn’t seem like such a hassle anymore. You feel lighter, in a way.

“Sorry,” he hums after a heartbeat of silence, “how are you feeling?” he asks, an apologetic look sent your way when he realizes he slipped into a heated lecture again, not knowing that this is exactly what you wanted and unknowingly came here for. (For his furrowed eyebrows and the crease in between them, his worried orbs and words tinted with frustration, showing you that he cares and wants you to be safe. For his little tangent, yet also gentle touches as he takes care of you and makes sure you’re staying warm. For the familiar look in his eyes, whispering to you that you’re the only thing in the whole world that matters to him right in this moment and always, forever.) 

You smile at the clueless boy. It seems to make something in him settle into a more comfortable place. “All better now,” you reply.

“Good,” he says. “God, you look awful,” he jokes– laughing airly to reference the state of your frozen face– cheeks and the tip of your nose red, eyes watery from the wind, hair messily sticking out from the bottom of your hood– as one of his hands comes up to cradle your face and squish your cheeks together, turning your chapped lips into a big pout. The contact of his skin on yours makes your stomach feel light with the contrast of his warm hand on your cold face, all your senses coming alive when his voice drops a few octaves lower, seriousness tinting his tone. “Promise me to take better care of yourself from now on?”

Nodding, not really having it in you to even make a noise, you watch as the male studies your face for a while. In any other circumstance, his gaze would make you shy away, but not now. Not when everything seems suddenly so simple, not when all your worries seem to slip through your fingers. When his eyes point towards your lips– your puckered, dry mouth– a sense of expecting takes over you, a strange kind of excitement buzzing in the tips of your fingertips. When you breathe in through your half-clogged nose, the mixed scent of his fabric softener coming off the scarf tied tightly around your neck and the smell of the shower gel he uses to wash the chlorine off after his swimming practice hits your nose, making you a little light-headed. No words are spoken as the male suddenly leans in and presses a quick peck to your lips.

His warm lips meet with yours in what seems to be a second-long contact, but it’s enough to have the ghost of his touch lingering, enough to make your stomach churn in joy.

The action was so painfully casual– as if it was second nature to him. As if there was no reason for him to contemplate the decision– as if this was what he wanted to do all the time, and so he did it. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

Selfishly, though, you must admit you need both– you need the words just as much as the actions. Good thing Eric knows you so well– sometimes you think it’s even more than you know yourself.

“Now come on, let’s get you home,” he hums, hugging you to him with his right arm as you two walk down the sidewalk, “wouldn’t want my beloved girl to freeze to death right here.”

His beloved.

The words resonate in your brain. This time, it’s a good type of screaming match happening with your thoughts– all worries battled, using his sentence to cut out the bad parts like a sharpened knife. This time, your mind is full of fireworks and excited buzzing, sending the happy signals all across your body, helping you fight winter with the power of gentle loving. 

And sure, you know that those feelings might come again. There’s no way of telling when the skeletons will appear, hunting down your happy thoughts. But you know that even if they do, you will always somehow find your way back to Eric, and he’ll make sure to remind you of what you need to hear, and you’ll be okay again.

You guess The Beatles were right after all. Maybe all you need is a little love sometimes.

[multifandomlover01]

Baby Fever

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (use of the word girlfriend; AFAB is heavily implied bc I based it on myself, sorry)

Established Relationship

WC: 1k

Warnings: talks of pregnancy and child rearing and anxiety surrounding it (not explicit but there’s like one tiny suggestive comment) (pregnancy and parenthood is viewed as something both characters want so if you don’t believe that…just pretend or don’t read?) (also this discussion is happening between two people who are in a committed relationship but are not (as of yet) married but it is not explicitly stated that marriage will come before the children or that it will not)

Summary: Reader sees how Spencer is with Henry and realizes she really wants a kid with him

Key: Y/F/N = Your First Name

Eps: 4x6, 4x7

Spencer was looking back at JJ. She was pregnant and eagerly anticipating the birth of her child. Spencer realized that he had been in a relationship with his girlfriend longer than the father of the child (Will) had been in a relationship with JJ. He wondered about his future with me.

“You considering it?”

Emily’s voice snapped him back to reality and he turned to face her.

“Considering what?” He asked for clarification although he was already fairly certain he knew what she meant.

“Having baby geniuses one day….presumably with Y/F/N…”

Spencer was just briefly considering it just then, yes, but upon being asked about it point blank like that, his brain short circuited. Luckily he was saved from answering when the phone rang.

“Hello?” He asked and he knew that his nervousness could be heard in his voice.

You had stayed with Spencer in Las Vegas along with Rossi and Morgan and you’d all gotten back in time to see Henry. JJ, Spencer and you remained in the room. Spencer was asked to be Henry’s godfather and the instant demeanor change when he held his godson gave you whiplash. He was so pure and precious with Henry. Emily had asked you the same question after her interesting interaction with Spencer. And you told her that you’d love to have children with Spencer but that you were concerned about pregnancy and child rearing. She told you that Spencer would be with you every step of the way and that you shouldn’t let your anxiety make you feel like you wouldn’t be a good mother, which gave you some peace about it.

You had to excuse yourself from the room quickly as a wave of emotions hit you as you watched Spencer with Henry. JJ and Spencer immediately became concerned with your behavior. Spencer handed Henry back to JJ and quickly left the room after you.

The others went back into the room and Spencer caught up with you halfway down the hall (damn his long legs). He gently reached out to touch your elbow.

“Y/F/N, hey, wait.” He said so softly that you had to stop and turn to face him to be met with the sweetest face of concern. “Are you ok?”

After what this man had just been through with his family, he was asking you if you were ok.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You manage a small smile. You really were ok but you just didn’t know how to bring up your feelings to Spencer.

“Was I…too friendly with JJ?” He averted his gaze to the ground briefly.

Your heart broke. Spencer thought that that was the issue? You had been a bit…jealous of JJ in the past and of their friendship…but you were past that now.

“N-no…it’s not that…”

“Then what is it? Please tell me.” He was looking at you with those damn puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.

“It’s…kind of…hard to…um…” you trailed off. Should you be blunt or ease into it? You thought.

“Take your time.” Spencer smiled at you sweetly as he placed his hand that was at your elbow on your upper arm.

“How you were with Henry in there…it…sparked something in me…god, that’s a bad word for it…” you chuckle and shake you head.

“Sparked something?” He asked curiously.

“I uh I don’t really know how to explain it…” you became somewhat embarrassed, averting your gaze now from him to the floor.

“Y/F/N…look at me, please.” Spencer said in a tone that compelled you to and you were met with a slight smirk.

“Did you catch baby fever from JJ?”

Your face tinged pink.

“Maybe…I dunno…” you muttered as you averted your gaze to the floor again.

“It’s ok if you did.”

Your eyes snapped back to him, a more genuine smile now having replaced the smirk.

“What?” You asked, confused. You didn’t think Spencer wanted kids. You’d never talked about it before but you were now.

“Did…Emily happen to ask you anything?”

You nodded. “Yeah. She did.”

“And…what did you say?”

“That I had considered it…but that I was a bit scared of pregnancy and child rearing but she reminded me that you’d be with me every step of the way and that my anxiety does not mean I won’t be a good mother.”

His smile widened.

“You’d be a great mother.”

“Really? You think so?”

He took your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips to kiss.

“I know so.”

“So do you um…”

“Emily asked me earlier if I was considering it and I never answered her…I think the prospect was just too overwhelming for me to even think about in the moment but now that I’ve had some time to think…I think I’d like that…”

“How have you had time to think with all that’s been happening with you?”

“Well…I dunno, I’ve just…I know it’s not the best example but I’ve seen what people will do for their children, their loved ones and what people won’t do and…I know that I love you and I know that I want a life with you and…I think I might want that life with you to include children.” Spencer says, vocalizing it for the first time and feeling even more sure about it now that he has said it out loud and realizes it truly is what he wants. “Plus…with JJ having been pregnant…I can’t say the thought of you like that hadn’t crossed my mind at least once or twice.”

“Oh? Like PG thoughts or…MA?”

“Definitely both…” Spencer’s cheeks tinged pink.

“Well…if that’s something you want…I think that’s something I want too.” You say and like Spencer, you are more sure of it as you vocalize it to him.

“Really? You’re sure? I don’t want to make you feel pressured or anything, you’re the one who is going to be carrying the child, after all.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

He wraps his arms around your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you so much.” He whispers in your ear.

“I love you too.”

“So, what do you want, hon?”

“What?”

“Do you want to have a boy or girl?”

“Oh um…a girl, I guess…”

“Perfect. I’m so gonna spoil her. She’s gonna be such a Daddy’s Girl. Do you just want one or do you want more?”

“Oh I don’t think I’d be able to handle more than two…three would be pushing it.”

“Two or three beautiful Reid children it is, then. What about names?”

“Spencer…we don’t have to figure this all out today.”

“You’re right.” He pulled away from nuzzling your neck to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry. I just got excited.”

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

Getting Up Next To You

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader (background Jake Lockley x f!reader)

Summary: Steven keeps waking up next to you after you and Jake hook up

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of smut, social anxiety, some angst, general self-hatred, let me know if there is anything else I missed. MINORS DNI

Notes: I just love the idea of Steven being an awkward little bean after waking up next to you. Also the idea of him slowly falling in love and you two being little anxious messes. I’m just obsessed with him and I think he could make me like myself more. As always interactions with the post are appreciated as well as feedback!

The first time you met Steven Grant was when he woke up next to you unaware that you would be there. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Waking up next to beautiful women he didn’t remember was not a common occurrence in his life.

Steven almost fell out of the bed when he turned to find you peacefully sleeping next to him. You quickly proceeded to try and calm him down or at least convince him you weren’t an intruder.

“Jake told me this might happen. Are you Marc or Steven?” You quickly questioned trying to deescalate.

It took a second for Steven to process your words. Jake told you? Christ, what had his life become since the third alter joined them.

“Steven. Wait a minute, you know Jake?” He questioned back still confused.

“Yes, we slept together last night. That’s why I’m here.” You answered seeming way too calm for someone that woke up next to a different person sharing the body of your one night stand.

Of course Jake would do something like this. Bring someone into their house and then not even have the common decency to see them out. Steven couldn’t understand how he shared a body with someone so different from himself sometimes.

“I was kind of… spent last night. Couldn’t really walk home afterwards. I’m so sorry I’m bothering you now.” You apologized clinging the bedsheets to your chest.

Oh god that meant you were naked under the sheets. Steven desperately tried to wave that thought away.

“Alright, that is probably more information than I needed to hear. And you’re fine.” Steven said moving away from the bed.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell over the two of you. Neither sure what to do in this situation.

“Do you want to have some breakfast? I make some mean scrambled eggs.” You offered moving away from the bed still clinging to the sheets.

Steven was in a dilemma. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was here or if Jake would be mad if he accepted. By the situation you two were in, it was clear his alter wasn’t looking for a lasting relationship. Yet, you seemed so kind and there was so much hope in your offer. Damn Jake, he was the one that put Steven in this situation and he would have to deal with the consequences.

“Breakfast sounds lovely. What’s your name by the way?”

You introduced yourself offering your hand for Steven to shake. You were unreasonably cute. Part of Steven wished he was the one that had met you first.

Steven gave you your clothes and moved to the kitchen busying himself while you changed. He was so different from the person you met last night it almost gave you whiplash. You obviously had liked Jake, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone home with him. Yet where Jake was all sharp edges and hungry looks, Steven was smooth and soft. The fact that he didn’t even try to sneak a look at your naked form really solidified you were dealing with someone different.

Once you were fully clothed, you made the breakfast you promised: scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. You and Steven ate together making conversation. You asked him lots of questions and seemed genuinely interested in his answers. What was his favorite breakfast food, how long has he lived in London, did he prefer breakfast or dinner. Being socially anxious this was your strategy for when you met new people. Just ask them as many questions as you could, start from what you are doing now and try to trace it back all the way to their family roots. This way conversation would happen and you didn’t have to panic about being in silence and them hating your presence.

Steven was surprisingly disappointed when the meal ended. He wanted to keep talking to you. In the short amount of time you spent together he had rather enjoyed your company. Nobody was usually interested in spending time with him, and yet here you were. A complete stranger that had managed to learn more about him over the span of a meal than most of the people he had been working with for years.

“I’m off then. It was lovely to meet you, Steven.” You said after you helped him put all the dishes in the sink.

“It was lovely to meet you too. I hope we’ll get to see each other again.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. But I hope so too.”

The smile you gave him made his heart melt. Gosh, he would have to beg Jake to make this not a one night stand.

Steven had berated Jake with questions after that morning. He wanted to know all he could about you and yet he was met with the answer of “you were just some girl he met at a bar”.

It’s not like Jake didn’t like you. He most certainly did. You were hot, the sex was amazing, and he actually enjoyed talking to you at the bar. But Jake was not in the business of collecting repeated trading cards. He was not looking for a relationship and was very secure in his choices which just made Steven more displeased that really it was unlikely he would meet you again.

That was of course until he once more woke up next to you and this time actually fell out of the bed in surprise.

“Steven, calm down! It’s just me!” You shouted trying to calm your own rapid heartbeat from the shock of being woken up like that.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“You reacted the same way you did last time. Also you have a British accent. Jake told me the other one doesn’t.”

“Jake told you?” Steven questioned uncertain as to why his alter would just offer you information like this. “Yeah, I asked him about you.” You said nonchalantly.

Steven could almost hear his heart stop. Fuck, you asked about him. He tried to not get his hopes up but the very fact you wanted to know more about him had to mean that you also thought about him after. Right?

“I have been dreaming about those scrambled eggs.” He said with a smile.

And about her. You won’t shut up about it. Steven ignored Jake’s voice in his head.

“I’ll gladly make them again for you!”

With that you two did the same as last time with Steven moving to the kitchen to grab ingredients while you put your clothes back on. This time, however, it felt comfortable. Familiar. You didn’t feel stressed around Steven despite the fact you had only met him once and the fact that the voices in your head weren’t screaming that this was awkward and you needed to leave as they usually did was something you didn’t know what to do with.

Truth be told, you had secretly hoped Steven would be the one you woke up next to before you fell asleep the night prior. When you saw Jake from across the bar the previous night you wanted to sink into your seat. The two of them hadn’t left your mind since the last time but as usual it would take way too much courage you didn’t have to actually go speak to him. And he clearly had meant for it to be a one-time thing, you could get the context clues for that. So you can imagine your shock when Jake approached you again, just as flirtatious as last time. One thing led to another and you were once again here with Steven eating eggs.

This time around you asked him if he minded you turning on the TV while you two ate. So you sat next to him watching a re-run of Doctor Who while you still asked questions. This time the questions were all related to his interests and you were perhaps the first person Steven met that didn’t seem to immediately check out when he went on a rant about how Gods of Egypt had gotten it all wrong. Steven was in trouble and he knew it.

Once more, the meal seemed to end way too quickly and before Steven knew it you were taking the dishes to the sink and picking up your bag.

“Wait, don’t you at least want to see the end of the episode? I mean I would be devastated if you didn’t know what happened about those blasted Weeping Angels.” Steven offered.

Truth was you had seen Blink more times than you could count but you still accepted Steven’s offer. There was so much hope in his eyes you just couldn’t say no. You both sat on the couch and continued watching the episode making comments about your thoughts on it. You ended up watching the episode they aired after it too and it was afternoon by the time you finally left.

Steven really hoped Jake would choose to bring you home again.

Before Steven saw you next he argued with Jake endlessly. He lost count of how much time he spent in front of the mirror just grilling Jake on why he wouldn’t invite you on a proper date. He clearly liked you and it was the least you deserved. If Steven couldn’t be in a relationship with you, he at least would like for someone in the system to do it. Yet, as always Jake would give the same answer: he was not interested in a relationship. True, he had slept with you twice. And brought you to the actual apartment versus your own house or the cab. All steps he hadn’t taken with anyone really but that was it. He wouldn’t cross anymore boundaries with you and a date would definitely cross many.

And then, after weeks of arguing, Steven woke up next to you again. Except this time he wasn’t frightened. He didn’t scream or fall out of the bed, he just laid there looking at you and trying to figure out how he could not disturb your sleep and yet still get to spend the day with you. After what felt like years but was probably a couple of minutes your eyes opened and focused on Steven’s. The moment they did you opened an enchanting smile.

“We really gotta stop meeting like this, Steven.” You joked.

“I rather like the sight of you first thing in the morning.” Steven said making your cheeks turn red.

He really hoped that wasn’t too straight forward but it was like these feeling inside of him refused to be contained. He was had it bad for you. Really bad.

“So breakfast?” You simply said already sitting up and looking around for your clothes.

“Actually I was planning to go to the museum today. A new exhibition on modern art just opened and I was going to go today anyway so maybe you could join me? We could get breakfast at the coffee shop there.”

Steven’s voice almost broke at the end. He was so nervous but he just couldn’t bear to think you would leave so early again.

“Don’t you work at the museum?” You questioned.

“Yes, but my boss Donna can be real nasty. She would never let me actually see the exhibition during work hours.” Steven explained.

“Sure then! I would love to!”

Steven almost couldn’t believe the word coming out of your mouth. How could he be so damn lucky?

You two went to the museum and Steven couldn’t have dreamed of something better. You had a genuine discussion about what art was and what your favorite painter were. You ended up seeing the new exhibition but also just walking around the entire museum. You stayed at least an hour in the Egyptian exhibit as Steven told you every detail about every piece and the history behind it.

Steven was enchanting. Gosh, when he went on his rants his eyes lit up and the perpetual dark bags under his eyes seemed to disappear. He was always beautiful but in the museum he absolutely glowed.

When he got too excited about showing you different things he grabbed you by the hand and dragged you from one piece to another. The contact was so small and innocent compared to the ones you’ve had with this same body in the past but it still made you blush. Fuck, you were whipped. You liked Steven. Not only Jake but now you truly couldn’t deny that you were crushing bad on Steven.

By the time you were finished with the museum it was late afternoon. Steven couldn’t remember a day he had enjoyed more. You both had decided to get food at a vegan restaurant close to the museum he loved. The meal was going lovely as always but one thing was in his mind and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Why do you still sleep with Jake?” Steven blurted out almost involuntarily.

“What?”

“You clearly deserve better! You don’t deserve to be with a bloody wanker that will sleep with you and then not even have the decency to wake up next to you!”

To say you had not expected this was an understatement. You stuttered not really sure how to respond.

“Do I deserve better?” You asked letting your insecurity come through.

“Yes! You deserve the world.”

“It really doesn’t feel like that sometimes.” You confessed.

Steven quickly moved from his position on the other side of the booth you were sitting in to get closer to you. He placed his hand on your cheek making you look him in the eye.

“Oh, love. You do. You’re brilliant and you deserve someone who will make you feel like it. You deserve someone who will worship you.” Steven said softly.

“Someone like you?” A boldness took over you and forced you to say it.

You immediately regretted it and was about to apologize when Steven cut you off.

“If you’d have me.”

Instead of replying, you closed the distance between the two of you and kissed Steven. First the kiss was soft, temptation but as soon as he responded it quickly become hungry. Steven had been waiting for this moment for more than a month now and it felt fantastic. It was all he wanted and dreamed it would be.

The next time Steven woke up next to you was different. He wasn’t on the other side of the bed as usual. Instead he was pressed against your back, feeling your warmth as he snuggled closer to you.

He was the one that got to fall asleep next to you the previous night after he was the one to finally ravish your body. Hearing you scream his name as he plunged into you was enchanting and he understood why Jake kept coming back to you.

And now here he was. Getting to look at you in the morning knowing exactly how you both ended up in that position.

You stirred in your sleep and turned to look at him. You opened that same sweet smile that melted his heart.

“Good morning, Steven.”

“Good morning, love.”

[fandsart]

Sickening Disparity

Sick-fic based on the comment @stevesbipanic made on this post

Steve was supposed to be here like a half an hour ago. He told Eddie he’d help him prepare some stuff for Wayne’s birthday tomorrow. Mostly the cake, since Eddie’s admittedly terrible in the kitchen. Especially baking. So when Steve offered to help it was a huge relief. He knew he could save some money on a store-bought cake for other activities for the day.

He really wants to be frustrated, but getting to know Steve over the past eight months, well, he wouldn’t just bail. He’s had people abandon him before to get other people—bullies—off of their backs, so it’s always something he’s paranoid about. It’s why he was so willing to drop Lucas from Hellfire, so sure that Lucas was down a path of the inevitable anyway, leaving the ‘light side’ behind. But he knows Steve has already been on the other end of the social curve. He already knows what he’s giving up and he’s talked about how glad he is to have dropped his social status. Giving him the benefit of the doubt he heads to the phone and calls Family Video, hoping he just got held up at work.

Only to hear from Kieth that Steve called off work that day.

The speed at which his thought process instantly goes straight from trying to talk himself out of judging Steve and being upset about being stood up– from telling himself that he knows Steve wouldn’t do that, to concern gave him mental whiplash. Something’s wrong. He calls Steve’s house three times before resorting to the walkie talkie.

“Has anyone seen Steve?”

“Have you checked his job?” Dustin voices back slowly like he’s talking to a child.

“I’m not an idiot. Kieth said he called in sick, but he’s not answering his home phone.”

“Yeah…” Lucas says, “it’s been getting colder out. If I were sick I wouldn’t want to wander away from his bed either.”

“Yeah, he’s probably just at home,” Dustin says. “You can check on him if you’re really worried, but if he called in sick he’s probably safe. If there was a serious emergency he’d let us know about any kind of code red at the same time.”

“I think he should check on him,” Lucas says. “He can’t be getting much better there.”

“That’s a good point. Eddie, can you bring him to your place maybe? At least pop by his place?”

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

When Lucas said that, Eddie had assumed he meant that Steve couldn’t be getting better all alone, especially if he didn’t want to leave his bed for whatever reason- well… Eddie thinks he knows why Steve might not want to leave his bed now. Especially if he was sick.

Because when Steve doesn’t answer the door, as expected really, and Eddie finds the door unlocked, upon entering he expects to feel the relief of heat flooding around him, only to find no temperature change at all. Which is just so unexpected. It’s not even 35 degrees out! Why would someone have their heat off right now? Even Wayne’s turned their heat on by now!

He still lives at his parents’ house doesn’t he?

“Steve!” he calls uncertainly. “Are you here?” At the lack of response he peaks out the door again to double check that he had seen Steve’s car on the way in. With the confirmation that it still sits in the driveway, he knows the chances of him not being here are slim.

Still, he rushes up to where he knows Steve’s room is from the few times he came over a few months ago. On that minuscule chance he’s not here, that would be a major cause for concern. He knocks on the bedroom door, not receiving an answer, but opens the door slowly at the subtle sound of shifting sheets. “Stevie? You doing ok?” His visible breath crosses the barrier to the room before he does.

“Eddie?” Steve croaks, poking his head out from the layers of covers where he was fully buried. He looks between Eddie and his clock. “Oh, shit… I swear I didn’t expect to sleep that long.”

“Jesus, Stevie, it’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“‘Sorry about that?’”

“Well I didn’t exactly expect you to be here.”

“Ok, let me rephrase. Why is it so cold in here?”

Steve sighs. “This hasn’t really been an issue since high school, but I’ve been saving up for a deposit to get my own place.”

“What hasn’t been an issue since high school?”

“Heating and cooling expenses.”

“I don’t think I’m following. Why would you have issues with that in high school?”

Steve shrugs jerkily through the feverous shivers that wrack his body, burying deeper into his blankets. “My allowances were only so high. Things got easier once I got a job, but since I want to get my own place I’ll be at square one for a while.”

“I feel like… I’m lagging… You made more money at Scoops Ahoy than you got from your parents.”

“To be fair, most of my meals were provided by the school at the time. It only got really hard during the summer.”

“They didn’t-” he cuts himself off seeing Steve pull the comforters further up his face, covering his lips, which Eddie now realizes are purple. “Ok, we will continue this conversation later, but for now we’re taking you to my place. Now come on. The engine’s still running, so it should be nice and warm in the van.” Steve looks tempted, but hesitant, before sitting fully up with a large shudder.

The transfer from carpet to hardwood, then later concrete are hard to watch, but it’s definitely worth it when Steve sinks in the passenger seat of the van and relaxes. Not fully, but a hell of a lot better than what was going on before.

“I’m gonna lock up your place, alright?”

Steve gives a little hum and a nod. “Keys’re on my dresser.”

On his way out, Eddie heads to the kitchen with the intent on grabbing a vegetable or something. He knows those are good for when you’re sick and he figures anything Steve has will be better than whatever canned shit he and Wayne have at the trailer. Especially knowing what a cook Steve is, he makes the assumption that Steve keeps a large stock of things.The only things in the fridge are milk, butter, and eggs; all frozen.

Eddie swears under his breath as he shuts the fridge a tad harshly. All he finds in the freezer is ice. It gets the same treatment as the fridge. When he checks the cabinets he finds the stock of ingredients he’d initially assumed Steve would have but it’s all more baseline stuff. Flour, oats, salt, spices. He practically growls in frustration at the lack of resources on his way out the door.

He’s about ready to start questioning Steve again about this entire situation, only to find him asleep in the van.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles as he puts the van into gear.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

The drive back gives him plenty of time to think about it. Usually he turns his music up loud enough to not have to think at all. That’s how he prefers it. But he doesn’t want to wake Steve up. So it plays at a low volume while Eddie goes over the facts in his head.

It’s Eddie’s second senior year, and Steve’s first, well, only senior year. Steve’s been less of a jerk the past few years, but Eddie can’t help but be annoyed when he hears Steve complain about needing new shoes. Because the thing is, Eddie just knows he’ll be getting a new pair by the next day. He must be setting up the idea in people’s minds so he doesn’t look so self centered when he goes around showing them off. Eddie rolls his eyes at the audacity and he’s standing on the table before he can stop himself

He looks at Steve, still wrapped up in the comforter, just his head and feet poking out. He didn’t bother grabbing his shoes on the way out. His socks are visibly wet now from the now melted snow that fell last night.

“Oh, have you owned those name brand running shoes for a day too long? Get a grass stain on them? You know not all of us get credit cards at the age of 12 because our parents are willing and able to provide anything their precious little child could want. Some of us can’t even afford long showers. Only getting so long before the faucets start spitting out ice.”

Eddie still doesn’t know why the house was left so cold. He’d like to try to convince himself that Steve thought it would be a way to combat the fever, but, no, Steve’s already confirmed it had to do with saving. It sounded like he was meant to pay for heating and cooling with his allowance back in high school, but why? The scenario is so bizarre. His parents would give him money to put into heating anyway? It comes out of their pocket anyway! What’s the point of that? Maybe if they wanted to teach him some kind of lesson about priorities?

“My uncle doesn’t even turn his heat on until mid-september,” Eddie goes on. “Have you ever skipped a meal to afford a new coat? Or any clothes for that matter? Huh, Mr. Polo and Nikes? Never had to cultivate a style on a budget?”

Glancing over he sees Steve’s hair sweat-plastered to his forehead. He might be getting a little bit too hot now in the heated vehicle and under all three blankets. They’re almost to Eddie’s trailer now, so he can situate Steve to a better condition while he asks him to elaborate on the situation.

It’s a little weird. He’s never really conversed with Steve, and yeah he’s annoyed that Steve gets to take his silver spoon for granted, but something seems off. Steve’s usually a pretty good sport whenever he goes on his little rants. Usually he goes after how people adhere to the stereotypes of their cliques, and he’ll often spot Steve laughing along or making a ‘fair enough’ face, even when his statements definitely apply to him too. But he doesn’t react at all this time. Doesn’t even seem annoyed at all; just stares back blankly at Eddie. He’s used to getting some read out on him. He knows it’s irrational, but it really does serve to piss him off even more.

Waking Steve up made Eddie feel so guilty. He’d fallen back asleep so fast, and he’d already been sleeping all day. He must truly be exhausted. Steve hobbling to the front door is a miserable sight. His socks are now browning with mud from the squishy ground he’s walking on. Eddie holds the door for him, and he nods in thanks, but never complaining about the cold, despite shivering so hard he physically could not have openned the door on his own.

“Priveleged, spoiled bitch,” Eddie grumbles as he hops down from the table.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

He gets Steve new clothes first. His warmest pajamas and some of his uncle's thick work socks. Then he pulls out some of the canned soup they have stored for just such an occasion. The soup doesn’t take long, and by the time he finishes Steve is sitting on the couch, outfit changed. He’s not asleep now, but he’s still visibly tired. He’s shed two of the three comforters, but he still shivers slightly under the layers.

“Your clothes are soft. I put my stuff in your washer by the way. I don’t know how yours works so they’re just sitting in there, but it was empty.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Eddie says, passing the bowl over to Steve. “I’ll take care of it later. For now… I guess I’m a little confused about why your house was an ice block.”

Steve huffs out a small laugh. “My parents pay for the heating and cooling, but they aren’t always home, so it doesn’t always get paid for.” He shrugs. “When I was in high school I could go to Tommy’s because his parents were also away most of the time, but then we had our falling out. When I got a job I could start heating for the power myself, but I’m saving up now.”

Eddie can’t think of a follow up to that before Steve fully drains the bowl of soup.

“I, uh, haven’t eaten since this morning and it was just toast,” he explains shyly.

Eddie takes the bowl to the sink and finds a sleeve of crackers to bring back to Steve, along with a glass of water.

“Sorry about, uh…” Steve starts when Eddie enters the room again. “I mean, I know we had plans today. I was hoping I’d be able to sleep it off before I had to be here, but then I just slept through it I guess.”

“Dude it’s fine. You can’t help your shitty immune system.” He gets flipped off for that comment. “Just next time let people know you’re sick when you have plans with them. Also, next time leave your freezing house! No wonder you weren’t getting any better!”

Steve laughs a bit, which devolves into a coughing fit. “I’d hope to have my own place by the time I’m sick again,” he says once his coughs subside. That’s when Eddie changes his priorities from getting more answers to getting Steve to finish eating what he has before giving him medicine and moving him to Eddie’s bed to sleep the rest off.

As they make a last minute cake the next day, he learns about how Steve’s parents used to give him 10 dollars to survive on per week since he was 8. About how they limited his budget to keep him from buying things that contradicts their image; so that he would only wear the clothes that they provided. About how they didn’t want to waste money heating the whole house if Steve would be the only one home, only really using 3 rooms.

He feels like he should maybe be more shocked, but everything he’s learned about Steve suddenly makes so much more sense. The way he’s behaved over the past months; not having a single moment of culture shock when exposed to Eddie or Robin’s means of living.

He remembers a time when Dustin asked Steve for ‘a loan’ and Steve told him that if he needed money to ‘mow the neighbor’s lawn like all the other kid his age.’ Eddie remembered thinking it was kind of hypocritical, but was largely dismissive of it. But he gets it now. It was an expression of his own experiences.

[flowershines]

Special Treats

Bf. Peeta Mellark x F. Reader

warnings: smut, tabs (sex chocolate), protected sex, nicknames, cunnilingus

Not proof read

Coming home from work, opening the front door to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, he was sitting on the couch in front of the tv watching the new season of the Hunger Games. Ever since he had been in the games with Katniss he kept trying his hardest to stop watching them and have the others follow in his footsteps but he just felt bad for the contestants this year, you had told him that they put two 8 year olds in the games this year.

Ofcource he never wanted to see those kids die so he did as much as he could to make them stay alive by sending in donations for them to keep them alive, after winning he had more of a wealthy lifestyle having you both live in the wealthiest side of the capital.

“I’m home.” Dropping all of your belongings in the chair that had been surrounding the island in the middle of the kitchen, he stood up and made his way over to you kissing your temple then complaining about how messed up the producers are “I’m surprised that they made it this far anyways, I think my donations are helping them I hope.” He said while looking down at the ground, shameful for the kids. “They are, they’re still alive aren't they.” “I don’t think for very long though, one and two have been trying to find them since they would be the easiest targets, I left them some small notes saying that they need to find shelter and hide for now.” Running his fingers through his blonde hair as he sat down into one of the chairs next to you, walking to him and giving him a small hug as a way to try and comfort him.

You always loved how caring he was, even though those kids weren't his and weren't even in his old district he felt like he had known them their whole life, kind of like an older brother figure to strangers.

“Oh I forgot Haymich gave me these chocolates for you, he said there was a note on it for you but it fell off when he gave it to me, it's just chocolates so I thought the note wasn't that important anyways.” “Yeah, you're right it’s Haymich, he probably wrote some stupid shit on it.” Handing the chocolate he took it and unwrapped it, “Want some?” shaking your head you exclaimed how you just went out to eat with Katniss for lunch. Taking a bite he hummed at the taste of it, “Good?” he shook his head up and down very fast you thought that he might get whiplash. Laughing to yourself you walked towards your bags and started to put them into your shared bedroom and started putting things away, Peeta walked back over to the couch and sat down right in front of the tv as you heard another buzz sound notifying you that he had just sent another donation to one of the kids.

As time went on he watched the tv closely as the group of trained teens walked over to where one of the kids had been hidden since the games had started.

Peeta’s POV:

Watching the kid shiver from fear made something in me feel horrible for her, a single tear ran down her face as she probably knew that it was the end for her, as they would kill her in no time. I put my hand over my mouth trying to stay quiet as if I was in the games myself, seeing her shiver and cry reminded me of my time during the games, not wanting to see the poor innocent girl get brutally murdered I walked towards the door letting Y/n know that I was going to take a walk along with asking her if she could shut off the tv not wanting to watch it anymore. I knew those kids were probably going to be the first to die but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, I mean who wouldn’t.

On the walk Y/n kept coming into my thoughts wondering what she probably thought of all the murder and what she thought of me being in the games as well, more questions about her wandered into my mind. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed deeply, I should probably start heading back to the apartment now heading back thoughts of Y/n couldn’t escape my mind, I probably just missed her so much today so I keep thinking of her.

Walking through the second to last hallway towards our apartment an image of Y/n popped in my head of her laying in our bed in my favorite pear of her lingerie, the red ones that never really covered much. I felt a rise of heat shoot through my stomach down to my sudden growing bulge which twitched at the thought, walking faster than before not wanting any of our neighbors to catch me with a growing hard on in my pants.

The more I would think of that image of her the more tighter my pants would go up against my dick making the sensation of the fabric rubbing against it even more hard to concentrate on any other random thought that might run through my head. Arriving at the apartment she was in our shared bedroom but instead of wearing the lingerie she was wearing the same clothes since the last time I saw her in.

She was on her knees putting things away in the bottom drawer of the dresser, I walked in front of her hoping she would see my aching problem and help out. She noticed that I was standing above her, she looked up at me with the most innocent eyes that stared into mine as she smiled softly. “When did you get back?” She said as he attention went back to what she was doing before, “Not that long ago.” I grabbed her by her jaw with one hand and made her look up at me, “I need you, now.” her eyes trailed from my eyes all the way down to my pants. My dick was right in front of her face making it perfect eye level with the tip as it leaked pre cum through my boxers and pants.

“All of the sudden?” She giggled still looking at my bulge then up at me, “Please Y/n, I was thinking then you came into my mind then an image popped up of you in my favorite lingerie on you.” I let go of her jaw and looked down at her with pleading eyes, “Your always horny.” She said standing up and walking towards the kitchen to get the last of her bags, I stood there defeated knowing that I would probably have to resort to my hand again. “Peeta?” She said from the kitchen, I walked into the room that she was in and stood in the doorway with an arched eyebrow and head tilted in the slightest way possible. She looked at me holding the box of the chocolate, “Do you not know what this is?!” “Chocolate.”

She rolled her eyes, “No shit, Tabs?” Looked her in the eyes and shook my head as a way to tell her I was not following, “It’s a chocolate made to turn you on, I should have read the box before giving it to you but I thought you knew.” She dropped the box on the island and rubbed her forehead, “So what am I supposed to do.” I rubbed my hand along the tip of my dick as she looked at it. She took one of the chocolates that showed three water droplets and ate it, “I’ll help you out, we just have to give it a minute for me to digest it.”

My eyes lit up with excitement, she walked over to the couch and placed a movie on and started watching it. I walked over to her and sat down next to her, I kept shifting and squirming in my seat as her attention was focused on the show in front of her. “Can I please eat you out?” I asked looking her up and down, she nodded and laid back against the arm of the couch using it as a pillow, I pulled her pants down which to my luck she wasn’t wearing any underwear giving me even more easy access. She whined at how slow I was going, I got closer to her heat and licked my lips as they hit her folds. I loved eating her out she always tasted so good and she would play with my hair all roughly making me moan into her pussy.

She would whine and breath all shaky which was my favorite noises that she makes, I couldn’t help but feel aroused as my tongue was deep into her. I uncontrollably got harder and started grinding down onto the couch for some sort of friction that my aching bulge was missing, as her moans and breathing became more sporadic she would grip onto my hair more tighter as my groans were muffled by her pussy, she loved the vibrations that it would give her and brought her over the edge making her cum on my tongue.

She sat up and pushed me down onto the couch and sat on top of my lap and started to unbuckle my belt I grabbed her shirt and started to unbutton it. The sound of my zipper being undone made me shift my hips up so that way she would be able to move my pants down to my knees. I finished buttoning her shirt and pulled it off each arm and brought one arm behind to her back and undid her bra. “Your a pro.” She said talking about being able to undo her bra with one hand, “You helped me become one.” I said smirking and dived into her neck and started to make my way down to her boobs, she moaned as my hands traveled from her waist down to her heat starting to do small circles on her clit.

She fell into my chest and started kissing my jawline then working down to my neck, she kept whispering sweet nothings into my ears. Pulling my hand away I reached towards the side table next to us and pulled out the drawer, taking out a condom and handing it to her and I shut the drawer and kissed her check. She ripped the packaging with her teeth off and took it out sliding it down on my dick, i softly groaned into her neck from the sudden sensation of her hand on me.

She grabbed my dick and placed it right at her entrance slowly sinking down on me as my hands rested on her waist, throwing my head back from the sudden sensation as I could feel her clench from every angle, her pussy ran along on the veins on my cock, she was made for me.

Grabbing at her waist tighter she started bouncing up and down on me, I kissed her on the lips as she continued bouncing on me. She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me closer, our tongues danced on one another fighting for dominance. Her free hand ran up and down across my abs then bringing her hand down to my balls to play with them giving me the best pleasure.

Moans and groans filled the rooms our neighbors banged on the wall telling us that they can hear us, I placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans but she started to reach her peak and get closer and closer to her climax, realizing this I reached my hand down to her clit and started to rub it in circles while thrusting my hips up to meet her motions. Moans got louder and louder both of our climaxes at their peak, “P-peeta I-I’m gonna-” “Me two, princess.”

With that she started to fall apart on my dick as my cum shot into the condom filling it up, she slowed down her pace till she stopped moving and just cuddled against my chest. She went and grabbed my dick pulling it out of her making me whine from her hand touching my overstimulated cock, then proceeding to take the condom off and bring it to the kitchen and throw it away. She went into the bedroom not soon after came back in her comfy pjs sand had brought me out some as well, she handed them to me and picked up our clothes that had been thrown off earlier.

She walked back over to the couch and cuddled into my side I kissed her temple and said “Thank you princess, I love you.” “I love you too baby”

[supermarvel-fics]

You Say Embarrassing, I Say Cute

merry (early) christmas @galacticlee3 !! I was your squealing santa this year <3 i was so happy to be writing this for you since I love writing ler!spencer and I know you enjoy my work. hope you enjoy!!! special thanks to @squealing-santa for putting this together ❤️

word count: 1,400

pairing: spencer reid x reader (romantic)

summary: reader needs a massage and Spencer tries helping

“God, my neck is killing me,” You sighed, rubbing it gently as you rolled your head from side to side. “Next time, remind me to stretch before taking down a 250-pound killer.”

Spencer laughed quietly, his head down as he read the files, but his eyes flitted up to you. He watched as you attempted to massage your own neck, noticing how it was alleviating your pain. “I don’t think stretching would help. He slammed you against a wall. What you’re experiencing is mild whiplash.”

“Well, it hurts,” You groaned, leaning forward in your seat to rest your elbows on your knees, hands cradling your heavy head. Spencer shut the file, his attention now fully onto you. He had been watching you a lot recently. You caught his attention early on; a giggle Spencer had never heard before had him asking JJ who you were. She explained that you were an internal transfer to the BAU. You’d been working in domestic terrorism before.

He was smitten with you since then, but wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Though, he had an inkling that Penelope already knew. She was good at reading people romantically.

He longed to be the one to care for you; holding your hand when things got scary, hugging you when you were down, making you hot tea when you were sick. He battled with his own thoughts as he observed you sighing in defeat.

His hands were nimble and mildly cold, but maybe he could help.

“I—” Spencer started, cutting himself off before he could finish. His stomach churned with a nervousness he’d never experienced before. Your head slowly lifted to catch Spencer swiveling his chair back to face his desk.

“What, Spence?”

Spence. He loved it when you called him that. Before you joined the team, JJ and Emily had been the only 2 to ever coin that nickname and while he never minded it, he wouldn’t say he loved the way it made him feel when it spilled from their lips. With you, it made a fire ignite in his chest.

Spencer cleared his throat and anxiously fiddled with his fingers. “I was just—um, well… I could try and h-help if you want. With your neck, you know…”

You smiled, more at Spencer’s stuttering than at the offering he gave you. He was normally timid in social conversations—a sharp turn from when he’s authoritative on a case—but it was endearing. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Spencer had taking a liking to you. Flattered wasn’t the right word to describe how you felt about it. Possibly enchanted or ‘mutual’.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” You asked him, already knowing his answer. Spencer perked up and gave you a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “Because that would be very helpful.”

“I’m not saying I’d be particularly good at it, but I can try,” He replied, voice shaking slightly. He was nervous, but looked terrified. You giggled and shrugged the best you could without putting yourself in discomfort.

“It’ll be fine, Spence. Anything at all would probably help,” You said, turning your desk chair around so that your back was now facing him. You heard the squeak of his as he made to stand up, then the pitter of his feet as he sauntered to stand directly behind you. He let out a breath and you shivered slightly as the cold air of it just barely grazed your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Where is the center of your pain?” He asked you. Lifting your right hand, you pointed to the base of your neck.

“Here, mostly. And a little near my shoulder blades,” You answered, suddenly shy about the situation. It’s just Spencer—no reason to be nervous. Holding your breath, you awaited Spencer’s touch and once he finally made contact, you flinched.

“Sorry!” He said, immediately retracting his hand.

“No, no, Spence, it’s fine! I just can’t see, so I didn’t know when you were about to touch me,” You assured him, chuckling under your breath. “I’m ready now.”

“You’re sure?”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see. “I’m sure.”

Still, you held your breath and tensed out of instinct as you felt Spencer’s hand rest on the back of your neck. He gently pressed into the place where your neck and back met with his thumb, easily becoming more confident as he felt you relax under his fingertips.

“Right here?” Spencer questioned you. You hummed a short and quiet response and he grinned wider at you. “Just tell me if anything hurts.”

Spencer worked his fingers in that spot until your skin began turning red from the continuous rubbing, then slid his hand over to the crook of your neck on the right side. You squealed and shrugged your shoulder up, trapping his hand.

Realizing what you’d done, you released him, swiveling around in panic. “Oh, God! I’m sorry! I just… well, I’m a little…”

“Ticklish,” Spencer smiled, finishing your sentence for you. You blushed as your head fell, eyes looking into your lap.

“Yeah. I thought I’d gotten over that… It’s so embarrassing,” You mumbled, bringing your hand up to your neck to cover up the ticklish spot.

Spencer, on the inside, felt like he’d just won the lottery. What better way to get close to someone than to tickle them? On the outside, though, he kept his composure. He reached out, placing his hand on your arm, prompting you to look up at him.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s a normal response. Everyone is at least a little ticklish and anyone who says they aren’t, are lying. It has to do with nerve endings. And you can’t just get over being ticklish,” Spencer explained, sneakily reaching down with his free hand to pinch your side gently. You yelped and looked up at him, unaware that a smile was creeping onto your face as well. “Now, turn back around. I’ll be careful.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, obeying his words. Your chair squeaked at it pivoted back to its previous position. Spencer’s eyes shifted to where your hand was still covering your neck and smirked to himself before wiggling his finger into your armpit.

“AHA!” You whipped your elbow down and leaned forward. “Spence!”

“Your hand was still on your neck,” Spencer shrugged, an uncharacteristic shit-eating grin on his lips. You grunted and situated yourself back against the chair, sighing dramatically.

Spencer went back to massaging, putting enough pressure not to tickle you, but as he moved to that spot between your shoulder blades and he braced his other fingers onto your ribs, you giggled again, arching away from him.

“Spencer! You said you’d be careful!” You chastised him.

“I was trying to help you!” He replied, going to squeeze at your ribs again. “It’s not my fault you’re too ticklish to handle it.”

“WAHAHA! Noho!” You laughed, squirming in your seat. “Ihit’s embaharrassing!”

Spencer began tickling every exposed spot he could find, watching as you attempted to block each and every one from him. He clicked his tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with being ticklish! Everyone is.”

“Spehehence!”

“Now, repeat after me: ‘it’s okay to be ticklish’,” Spencer ordered, contracting his fingers into your sides with vigor. Had you had any control over your body, you might have stood up to get away from his attack, but you knew that you weren’t strong enough to stand. Plus, you didn’t actually mind TOO much.

“I’m nohohot saying thahat!” You yelled back through your giggles.

Spencer tickled up your torso, forcing his hands under your arms and vibrating his fingers as best as he could. That really got you laughing. “I’m not stopping until you admit it.”

“OKAY, OKAY, OKAHAHAY! IT’S OKAY TO BEHEHE TICKLIHISH!” You belly-laughed, a snort sneaking out at the last second. You instantly covered your mouth, whining and cradling your head in your free hand. “I can’t believe yohou made me snort.”

“It was cute,” Spencer responded quietly, surprisingly confident in his tone. He shuffled to stand in front of you, squatting down so that he was face to face with you. “I think everything you do is cute.”

In shock, your head whipped up, smiling at his confession and that the pain in your neck was basically gone. “You… you mean that?”

“Y-yeah,” He stuttered. “I do.”

Your eyes roamed his face, taking in every inch, and you bit your lip. “Well, I feel the same.” You reached out and grabbed his forearm, rubbing your thumb against his sleeve. “But I have a question.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours. “Anything.”

“You said that everyone is ticklish…”

“Yeah…”

“So, that means you are too, then?”

And with the fear in Spencer’s eyes, you already knew you had your answer.

[lostinlewis]

How Do I Make You Love Me?

Rating: M

Words: 9432

“She’s with me.” 

A simple sentence, one with very few words, but so powerful it was hearing it said in that familiar soft spoken voice, it almost gave you whiplash with how quickly your head turned to look at him. Stood just behind you and to the side a little, his hair dressed in fresh braids, his black outfit quite understated by his own standards but fuck did he look good. 

“Sorry?” 

“I said, she’s with me.” 

With the second turn of the phrase, his hand slid along your waist and held it just tight enough that you could feel it in all its wonderfully large glory. Every hair on your body stood on edge, goosebumps decorated your skin, you wondered if he could feel how nervous you had become all of a sudden, you wondered if he could tell how paralysed you were under his touch. 

The man he was addressing in such a curt manner quickly took his exit and you were left with him, alone, well as alone as you could be in a room full of your colleagues and sponsors. 

“Why did you do that?” You asked him in confusion.

“You looked like you needed some help.” 

It became very apparent very quickly that his hand hadn’t lifted from where it held you, if anything it had only tightened its grip on your bare skin, the soft strokes of his thumb zoned your thoughts into nothing but the sensation. In a scenario for which you would normally be filled with confidence, you had never been one to be claimed by a man quietly, suddenly you found yourself without any, unable to say or do anything other than just exist as the person who Lewis Hamilton had his arm wrapped around in such a way that made you feel like a possession; his possession. 

“If I needed your help, I would have asked for it.” 

That sentence was all it took to lift the spell and his hand from you. 

“A thank you would have done just fine, but I suppose I should know better than to expect that from you.” 

And with that, he disappeared back into the crowd in which he had emerged from, leaving you standing at the bar, drink in hand, shaking with what could only be described as a mixture of annoyance, with the strongest burn of desire; the latter of which, you were an expert on ignoring now, you had been doing it for some years now. 

‘Who does he think he is? Swooping in to stop a man from speaking to me? Calling me rude? So fucking arrogant, so very Lewis.’ 

Your blood was boiling for the remainder of the hour you spent at the function, unable to make your excuses to leave any sooner. The moment you saw the perfect window you slipped out, unnoticed, and called yourself a cab. 

The Uber app read 35 minutes, you audibly cursed once more, your night was getting worse by the minute. All you wanted to do was take off the two piece that clung to your body suffocatingly tight, throw off the heels that cut into your feet like blades of glass, and jump into your bed to sleep it off but now you would have to wait in the cold, just to add to what was turning out to be an awful night. 

Your mind was still swirling with thoughts of Lewis as you stood shivering, waiting for your cab to arrive. If anyone asked you, your thoughts were solely about how annoying he was, literally the bane of your existence at Mercedes, but you knew they were anything but. Sure, he was annoying, but more so because you had wanted nothing more than for Lewis to like you for two years now and nothing you did seemed to work. 

Everyone had stories about how kind he was to them, how much interest he took in not only their lives, but the lives of their family members and friends, everyone but you. He was just fine in the beginning, friendly, maybe even a little flirtatious but that quickly changed. 

You hadn’t even made it two months into your new role on the strategy team, you had barely even had time to make an impact, when he became cold, distant, everything he wasn’t to the rest of your colleagues. Your relationship had only deteriorated from there, whilst you watched your colleagues be showered with kindness, with invitations to his parties, with little messages of praise on social media, you were left with the bare minimum of interaction, just when absolutely necessary and never too much. 

That’s why tonight’s interaction threw you off so much, it was unnecessary sure, but it was also completely out of left field, he had never chosen to speak to you outside of when he absolutely had to, let alone purposely coming to what he assumed was your rescue at a work function. It was unnecessary but that wasn’t what bothered you, what bothered you was how unexpected it was. 

Whilst your mind ran with thoughts of how good he looked, of how delicious he smelt, with how surprisingly soft his hand felt on your skin, all thoughts were clouded with a big fat ‘why’.

Why had he done that? Why now? Why? 

“You're shivering, here…take my coat.” 

You hadn’t heard him approach you, so lost in your confusion laced thoughts, it wasn’t until he was right beside you, offering you his ridiculously expensive coat, that you were faced with the reality of being alone with him once more, and really alone with him this time, there was not another soul in sight.

“I’m fine…thank you.” The smile you gave him was anything but sincere, and he could tell. 

“You don’t look fine.” He placed a hand on your arm as if to test your temperature and immediately the coldest shiver ran through your body. “If you’re not going to take it, at least take a walk with me.” 

Lewis didn’t wait for you to answer him, it wasn’t really a question, he began to walk off down the gravel path that led to darkness, assuming you were following behind. 

Your heels crushing against the stones on which you walked was the only sound that broke the silence as you followed closely behind Lewis, he seemed to be walking with purpose, leading you somewhere predetermined until he stopped abruptly.

The darkness made it difficult to see but eventually your eyes adjusted to where you were, in amongst a collection of trees, standing just in front of a stone bridge that led from the grand building, in which the function was hosted, to further down into the vast grounds. 

“This is much better.” Lewis mused as he leant back against the bridge, one leg raised up to support himself, as he looked at you.

“I mean, I don’t feel any warmer…”

Lewis smirked and shook his head at your response, looking down at the floor as if he was very carefully deciding what to say next. 

“Do you always have to be so difficult?” 

There it was, the sentence to make you drop the arms you had tightly folded against your chest, as you threw them to your sides in anger. 

“Are you kidding me? Me? Difficult? You’re the most difficult person here, Lewis!” You growled.

His face was graced with the kind of smile that made you want to just scream at him; so smug. He clearly wanted to get a rise out of you and it was working.

“I think you’d struggle to find someone who agreed with you here, babe.” 

“That’s because I’m the only person you’re like this with! And don’t call me babe.”

“Come here.” 

“What?” 

“I said, come here.” 

“You don’t get to ignore what I just said and order me around, Lewis! We’re not at work now.” 

“God, will you just do this one thing please?” 

You moved a little closer to him, but nowhere near where he was directing you. 

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” He laughed, pulling you to him so you were inches from his face now, your legs placed either side of his raised knee, it was practically impossible for you to be closer right now than you were, without touching him. “If you won’t take my coat, hopefully my body heat will keep you warm.”

“Why do you feel like you need to save me tonight? From that guy? And now from the cold? I’m a grown woman, I can look after myself.” 

“Can you just drop the stubbornness for five minutes, please?” 

You wondered if he felt the way your thighs tensed with anticipation as his leg brushed up towards your middle whilst he spoke. You wondered if his movement was intentional, done to throw you off of your stride and make you think of nothing but riding the thigh of the man that detested you; it had worked. 

“Tell me, why do you think I’m difficult? That I treat you differently from the rest of the team?” 

“I don’t know, Lewis. You didn’t at first, but I must have done something wrong, said something wrong, and from then on you’ve made it clear you can’t stand me.” 

“That’s not true.”

“What isn’t?”

“All of it. You haven’t said or done anything to make me dislike you, not at all.” 

“Then tell me, what is it? How can I get you to like me?” 

Lewis' brow furrowed as he thought about what you said, slowly his head began to shake as if he was disagreeing with something, as if he was disagreeing with you. 

With one of his beautifully adorned fingers, he reached up to stroke your cheek ever so tenderly, you were frozen on the spot, paralysed again under his touch. 

He had closed the minimal space between you without you even noticing, his warm breath tickling your lips as his forehead placed against yours.

“I already do.” 

Lewis whispered a sentence that would play on your mind every single minute of every day after, before he did the only thing that was left to do, he kissed you. 

His lips soft in a way that was dissimilar to any man you had kissed before him, the tongue that brushed against your lips, begging for entry, felt like it belonged there, like it had been there many times before. 

You didn’t reciprocate, your mind wouldn’t function enough to give you that option, instead you let him kiss you, you let him smother you in everything that was Lewis; you hoped he would drown you in it. 

Your phone vibrating in your hand felt particularly violent, an unwanted distraction to a moment you could have only dreamt of half an hour ago. As if nothing had happened at all, Lewis pulled away from you, the separation of your lips leaving a sting of anxiety on yours as if they needed to be paired with his permanently. 

“I…I've got to go.” 

You didn’t wait for him to say anything, you didn’t look back to see if he was trailing behind you, you walked faster than what should have even been possible in the heels that punished you. Away from him, away from the kiss that left you with a thousand thoughts, and towards your escape; something that you needed now more than ever.  

Walking away from Lewis that night didn’t stop him being the only thing you could think about from the moment you left him standing against that bridge. Nothing distracted you, nothing took your mind off of the moment, off of the kiss, and certainly nothing stopped you replaying his words; ‘I already do’ rang through your mind so much, you were certain you could imitate his tone of voice to perfection within a few days. 

As you pulled into the car park at Brackley, you purposefully sought out his designated parking spot to see if he was there yet, he wasn’t. It had been two months since you had seen him, the off season had fallen just after the Mercedes function, which meant you had had two months to stew on what had happened, two months to create scenarios for why Lewis had not contacted you, two months to ultimately circle back to what you thought before the kiss; he hated you. 

A part of you hoped that he would just appear in front of you and force you to be comfortable with his presence, but as the morning drew on, his absence from the factory day beat down on you like the heaviest weight in the world. 

Where was he? Why was he the only employee not there? 

Your role within the strategy team at Mercedes was an important one, you were one of the most important cogs to keep the wheels spinning, quite literally, so when you sat in with the rest of your team and barely engaged at all, it was picked up on almost immediately. 

You made your excuses to your senior as he questioned you about your silence, stating you weren’t feeling too well, and that was true, you weren't. The sickness you had was one that only people reckless with their own feelings caught, the problem was, Lewis was the only one who held the cure and he was nowhere to be found.  

Day two of the team being back at the factory started much like the previous day, except this time you knew where Lewis was, Instagram had told you. You sat at one of the many cafeteria tables, away from everyone else, tapping right and then left again, replaying his story over and over. Lewis was in New York, first he had a TV show appearance to promote the upcoming season, and then he was at lunch with some of his famous friends. 

In between those images were a few scattered scenic pictures, one of a bridge and another from the window of what you assumed was his apartment. The skyline depicted was beautiful, a view that you knew would have cost him millions, but all you could think about was having your hands pressed up against the huge window that framed the view, whilst Lewis took you from behind; you wanted to be filled with him as you took in the beautifulNew York skyline.

The fantasy was swiftly wiped away and replaced with a sharp wave of jealousy as you viewed the most recent story he had posted. It was a normal selfie in the mirrored wall of his elevator, the kind he had taken many times before, including once already that day. What caught your eye this time though, was a reflection that you hadn’t noticed in the morning selfie, the reflection of strands of hair that you didn’t recognise as anyone of his entourage, strands of hair that closely resembled that of one of the famous models he had been at lunch with that day. It was just them, alone, in his elevator; a moment so special to him, he had to capture it in the form of a photo.

It was then that you realised the moment you both had shared had meant nothing at all to him, whilst it was all you could think about, you realised you were just another woman who had left herself open to being conquered, and he had tried. You thanked your lucky stars that your Uber had arrived when it did, you thanked all of the Gods for having left that party unconquered and untainted by a man who had been through more women than he had hot dinners. Well, unconquered for the most part. 

As you sat in your strategy meeting on the third day, you had decided that really you should be grateful to him for being so sloppy with his posting. If you hadn’t seen the reflection in the mirror of yesterdays model, you probably would have spent right up until the next season started, obsessing over a stupid little kiss, but thankfully he had freed you of that burden, and now you were more focused than ever at making sure you gave Lewis a strategy he couldn’t help but be grateful to you for. 

It was late in the evening when you arrived in Barcelona, you had left before the rest of the team to head over there so you could settle into your room and hopefully prepare yourself for facing Lewis for the first time in months, the next day. You hauled your suitcase on wheels behind you as you made your way through the narrow hotel hallway. If you had been looking in front of you, you would have probably scurried into the first hiding spot you found but you were not, and so you walked straight into what might be the most awkward interaction in your life to date. 

“You’re here early.” 

Your face was already a scowl, annoyed at how long the hallway was to get to your room, but when you looked up at where the voice came from, the scowl deepened; Lewis. You had known you had to face him at some point within the next twenty four hours, you just hadn’t anticipated it being so soon, and you certainly were not prepared for facing him with company. 

“I…I thought I'd get some rest before heading to the track tomorrow.” 

You tried to not look at her, your anxious mind ran with the idea that if you didn’t acknowledge her, she didn’t exist. That worked for all but thirty seconds, as if she sensed the tension that hung in the air between you all, she staked her claim on an impeccably dressed Lewis with an arm wrapped around his waist, sliding in as closely as possible to him, so you were forced to notice her. 

“Good idea, hope you have prepared some great strats for me to test out tomorrow.” 

Lewis’ smile was one of discomfort, you could see that the interaction was nothing but awkward for him too, both of you desperate to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, but both of you far too polite to do anything about it, well he was anyway. 

“I always do…it’s a shame that you don’t always know how to execute them.” 

Your comment was supposed to be a joke, but as the last syllable left your tongue, you heard how harsh it sounded. As if you hadn’t put your foot in it enough already, you decided to really round off the bitchiness with a line that you regretted the moment you said it. 

“Oh and try not to stay up too late with your new little friend, being a seven time world champion doesn’t excuse tiredness just because you couldn’t possibly spend one night alone.” 

You had already begun walking away from them both as you finished the sentence, something which you were thankful for; you certainly did not want to see the look on Lewis’ face as your unnecessarily harsh sentence sunk in. 

The first day at the track in Barcelona was always going to be uncomfortable for you, having to work around Lewis, with Lewis, like nothing had happened that night a few months ago, but the minute long conversation you had had with him last night as you walked into the hotel had made it so very much worse. 

He was dressed in beige cargo pants with the White Mercedes T Shirt on top, the bottom of one of the pant legs hung looser than the other, you knew that because as you all stood around the garage, Lewis right in front of you, it was all you focused on as you tried your hardest to not have an anxiety attack.

You always hated being the centre of attention, presenting your ideas in front of the whole team was your least favourite part of your job, but as you stood centre stage in the garage, you had never wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole more than you did right that second. 

You could feel his attention more than anyone else’s, it might as well have been just the two of you in the room. You did your best to not look in his direction, your eyes scanned those of your colleagues so quickly, no one would notice that you hadn’t addressed any of your points to the number one driver, but instead to just about everyone else that bore little relevance. 

It was when you arrived at the instructions that were solely for his use that you had no choice anymore, and your eyes met his. Lewis seemed like he was listening, for the most part anyway, but as you rounded off your observations from last season, comments that could quite easily come off as criticism, you saw his eyebrow raise as he repositioned his stance, preparing to speak.

“I have noted all your points, but I have something to add…” You held your breath as you waited to hear exactly what he would say. “Last year we started strong, I was confident and that allowed me to get more out of the car than I should have. The strat calls became questionable somewhere in the middle of the season, some of the decisions you guys made were just not great, and I’ll be honest, I stopped trusting your calls.” 

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, waiting to see your reaction or hear your response as you fired back at him. Lewis stared at you too, a look in his eyes that dared you to carry on, dared you to fire back at him with an equally below the belt comment, but instead you stayed silent, flushed with embarrassment and annoyed at the audacity he had to call you out in front of the team. Lewis wasn’t finished, however.

“As long as we can rebuild that trust, then we should have no issues this season.” If you weren't mistaken, you could see amusement in his eyes. “And just as long as you guys remember to pit me on time too.”

The last comment was without a doubt aimed at you. You had made the call in Jeddah that meant he had missed a vital pit stop window, your hesitation cost him a podium, and Lewis had held it against you ever since, clearly. 

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur, both of you were quieter than usual, both of you clearly had other things on your mind and that was noted by Toto, so much so that he held you both behind after the meeting as if you were naughty children misbehaving in class. 

“So who wants to go first?” 

The deep German accent sounded around the small office of his, where you both were summoned to answer for your crimes. You sat obediently in the chair opposite his desk, Lewis preferred to lean back against the windowsill. 

“What do you mean?” You stuttered, feeling the pressure of having both mens eyes on you.

“Is there a problem between you both? I need to know now. Whatever personal issues you may have, I do not want them affecting the team performance and after that meeting today, clearly something has happened between you.” 

You wanted to scream out that what had happened was that Lewis had kissed you two months ago and never contacted you again, you wanted to pour out all of the jealousy that had eaten you up for the past few days but instead you said nothing, leaving it for Lewis to break the ice instead. 

“There’s no problem, apart from the bad strats last season.”

Toto shot Lewis a look that told him that he was less than impressed with his words, but it was too late, you had taken one too many criticisms from him that day, you could hold back no more. 

“I have no issue at all, Toto, however he has always hated me and now I guess he can’t hide it anymore. Now if you don’t mind, I have to go and prepare tomorrow's runs, hopefully they will be better suited to whatever Sir wants.” 

The tone when using his official title was very clearly sarcastic and the dramatic manner in which you exited the room, left both of the men stunned to silence. You didn’t care that it was unprofessional of you, and you certainly didn’t care how it affected Lewis, enough was enough, you were tired of being treated differently to the rest of the team, especially when you had done nothing at all to deserve it. 

Music played through the portable speakers you had brought with you to the hotel, the soft sounds of The Weeknd had you in a zen like state as you laid back on your bed, still wrapped in your post shower towel. 

The lyrics ran through you like sweet irony, every word started to resonate as you took in what was being sung. 

It's quite unusual/Seeking approval/Begging for it desperately (desperately)/I said

You typed the letter ‘L’ into the Instagram search bar, that was all you had needed to type, he was always your first suggestion as you had searched for him so many times. No new stories, he was unusually quiet today. You found yourself scrolling through the endless older posts of his, studying each picture of him as if you would be tested on how many freckles covered his nose. 

The feeling that you felt building within you was not unfamiliar, you had felt it once before. That night in question, as you hovered above the knee of the man who was quite literally the bane of your existence, closer to him than you ever imagined you would be, you felt just the same; a burning desire at your core, a feeling of yearning, a sensation of emptiness that only he could taper. 

How do I make you love me?/How do I make you/fall for me?/How do I make you want me/And make it last eternally?

You hoped the feeling would pass, you needed to wipe your mind clear of his face but nothing was working, even when you placed your phone beside you, the music only reminded you of him more. Lewis’ face was all you could see when you closed your eyes, the tightness of his waist in his race suit made you think of nothing but holding it, and the reminder of his kiss left you hoping for a taste of him again someday. 

There was really only one way to dampen the incredible heat that soared through your middle, you had resigned yourself to that fact. One hand found your sweet spot, the other found Lewis’ Instagram again as you allowed your imagination to carry your pleasure, whilst your fingers did all of the work. 

You were so lost in the moment, your eyes focused on the beautiful man on your screen, your ears suffocated by the lyrics that resonated more and more as the tracks changed, your mind working overtime to imagine how heavy he would feel on top of you, how expertly he would know how to please you with his vast amounts of experience, but you fixated on how big you already knew he was. He was unashamed of his enviable size, his racing suits fit a little too snug around his crotch and that allowed you to form such a wonderful image of just how perfect he would feel inside of you. 

You wanted him, you needed him, you knew this feeling would not pass until you had him, but you also knew that you never would. Lewis disliked you, the kiss was an anomaly, you knew he was probably drunk on the celebrations of him, and the alcohol; you knew there was no way he would do it sober. 

All of your senses were in overdrive as you touched yourself to relieve some of the tension you had carried with you for months, if not years, now. You closed your eyes, having his image burnt into your memory meant you no longer needed to stare at your screen, instead you pictured him as if he was there. You thought of how his fingers, almost twice the thickness of yours, would feel as a replacement of yours. You wondered how his tongue would feel against your nub, your memory flooded you with exactly how his lips felt meshed with yours and all you could do was picture how quickly you would fall apart in his mouth.

The more graphic your thoughts became, the stronger the waves of pleasure that soared through your body rocked you. So deep in thought you were, so lost in the scene that played out in your head, you almost didn’t hear the gentle knock at your hotel room door; you certainly heard the call of your name though. Lewis. 

Moments away from an orgasm, you groaned out of frustration. Why was he here? Did he want to insult your work even more? You thought about how tired you were, how little politeness you would be able to muster with exhaustion. What you didn’t account for was your current state of dress, or lack of it, to be more precise. 

Lewis’ lips were parted as if he was about to say something as soon as you opened the door up to him, but as his eyes panned down your body, taking in every inch of you, he was lost for words; until you made him find them again. 

“Lewis, if you have come to tell me how bad I am at my job again, can you wait until tomorrow? I’m tired.” 

“About that…” He didn’t wait for his invitation inside, he made his way past you as if you were not even there. “I came to apologise actually, I was out of line.” 

“Yes, you were.” You closed the door behind you as you began your rant. “How dare you undermine me in front of the whole team? Did you want to embarrass me? I understand that you hate me Lewis, but at least keep it respectful.” 

Lewis placed his phone down on the side table, shaking his head whilst doing so.

“As respectful as you kept it last night? You have no business making digs at whatever I do outside of work. You made the rest of the night super uncomfortable, for the both of us.” 

The internal smirk of satisfaction hearing that you ruined his night with her had clearly filtered through to your face, Lewis saw it, and it made him even madder. 

“Why did you do that? Why did it bother you that I was with her? Are you jealous of her? Is that what it is?” 

“Stop being ridiculous, Lewis.” 

“Am I being ridiculous?” You didn’t answer him, instead you busied yourself by smoothing out the curtains as if their creases were the most important thing happening right now. “What happened that night…I’m sorry.” 

An apology for kissing you, you thought you might be able to handle it better if he just said the words ‘I hate you’ instead; you did not want to hear his regrets of having been close to you.

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does. I’m sorry for kissing you and then never contacting you afterwards, that was not intentional.” 

You laughed at his absurdity, of course it was intentional, no one goes two months without contacting someone unless they intended not to. 

“You laugh like you’re not the one that regretted it the second it happened…”

“I’m sorry?” 

The increase in pitch after every syllable of your words was apt to describe the annoyance you were feeling. 

“You’re the one who ran off that night, not me.” 

“My Uber arrived-”

“Oh come on, you couldn’t have called another fifteen minutes later? You left because you regretted it, admit it.”

You looked at him, he looked at you. You wondered if there were as many unsaid things hanging in the air between you both as you felt there was. The tension should have been one filled with anger but it wasn’t, the atmosphere felt alien to you, a feeling you were unable to label. 

“I didn’t regret it…All I ever wanted was for you to like me, Lewis. I am sorry I have made you hate me, I’m sorry I have made it worse too.” 

Lewis reached out for you, wrapping his hand around your wrist before you quickly pulled it away. You were determined to not fall into the trap that was his touch once again, you had to be stronger this time, you had to put yourself first. 

“Why are you so obsessed with me hating you?” 

“So you admit it, you do?” 

“No. I do not hate you. I have never hated you.”

“Lewis, please…we don’t have to do this, all I ask is that you are cordial-”

“Stop. Let me finish, I need to say this.” 

This time when he reached out to hold your wrist, you didn’t pull away, instead you let him lead from your wrist, down to your hand, where he held you with the gentlest hold, the kind that comforted you but filled you with butterflies all the same. 

“I told you that night, when you were adamant once again that I disliked you, that you were wrong. You are wrong. I like you, I have always liked you, that’s the problem.” 

“What do you mean?” Your voice now was practically a whisper of nerves, you wanted to hear his explanation yet you weren't sure you were prepared for it. 

“I think it was about two months into you working with us that I realised.” Lewis led you over to the bed as he began his story, stopping you both to sit on the end. “I don’t even know how it happened, and especially not that fast, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Spit it out, please.” 

“I realised that I liked you, like really liked you. The kind of like that meant as soon as I got to the track, or the factory, all I did was hunt you down. I paid no attention in meetings, unless you were leading them. I slacked in just about every single part of my job because all I could think about was you.”

“I don’t understand…”

“No, neither do I.” His thumb stroking circles over your hand tried to hold your attention to him. “I don’t understand how it happened, normally I am resistant when it comes to this stuff, but I guess you crept in.” 

“So why…why do you act like you can’t stand to be around me?”

“Because I can’t…but not in the way you think. I can’t stand being around you because it’s torture. I couldn’t trust myself around you, I didn’t know how much longer I could stop myself from making a move on you and the last thing I want is people to know I have slept with the lead strategist.” 

“Bold of you to assume that I would have slept with you.” 

Lewis laughed, you laughed too, all at once the tension in the air began to feel less like it was trying to suffocate you and more like a hug. 

“So that night, when you kissed me, what changed?” 

“I was suffering from the same thing you were last night, jealousy.” 

“I was not jealous.” 

The raised eyebrow, followed by an eyeroll told you how convincing your plea of innocence was. 

“Fine, maybe I was a little jealous.” 

“When I saw him approach you, when I saw the way you engaged in whatever conversation starter he laid on you, I saw red and I knew right then I had to stop him from having a chance with you.”

“A little selfish, don’t you think? Especially as you had no intentions of shooting your shot with me.”

“Yeah, I realised that when I saw you standing alone waiting for your cab. Besides, that outfit…fuck, it was hard to keep my hands off of you all night.”

“So you took me into the dark to kiss me and then what was the game plan?”

“There wasn’t one, but I know for sure I had no intention of stopping at any point…until you ran away and left me there, all worked up.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, not that he could tell. 

“If I hadn’t left, what would have happened?”

“Are you asking me if I would have fucked you up against that bridge?” You looked away, unable to hold eye contact as he spoke of things you had only dreamt of. “Because I would have, but I also would have regretted it the next day.”

“Ouch…”

“Not like that, look at me…” 

He didn’t wait a second for you to follow his commands, so impatient for your full attention, he placed his fingers on your cheek and turned you to face him. You both held your gaze there for the moment, silence polluting the distance between you instead of words, and all you could think about was the fact he had not let go of your cheek at all; it was almost as if the moment he touched you he was frozen too. 

“What I meant was, in the moment I would have loved nothing more than being inside of you, but I would have regretted it because you deserve to be treated with so much more care. You’re better than a quickie in the woods.” 

His thumb stroked your cheek now, in the same way it had your hand. 

“Sometimes a quickie in the woods is exactly what a girl needs…”

You both shared a knowing smile once more, you could physically and mentally feel the tension lift from your body; with a few short sentences, you were both bonding more than you had in two years. Who knew that all it took was you both talking about fucking each other?

“You have no idea how many times I have thought about all of the things I want to do with your body.” 

Your mind flashed to the scene on the very same bed you were sitting on, only minutes before he arrived, a hot flush of embarrassment washed over you as if his hand cupping your cheek allowed him to read your thoughts and he would be able to see exactly what you did to yourself, because of him. 

“May I?” 

You weren't sure what he was seeking permission for, was it a kiss or was it permission to fulfil all of the fantasies he had about you? It didn’t matter what it was, there was not a single part of you that would deny his request. Afterall, it was all you wanted too. 

“You may.” 

Lewis’ lips met yours with such care you were the one that had to guide the pace, you could feel his restraint as he tried to be anything but the man he was with all of the other women before you, you could feel the way in which he wanted to treat you differently; he wanted to show you that you were nothing like the others to him, not even a little bit.

You were careful to not break the kiss as you straddled his lap, forcing him back onto the mattress with all of your weight. It took him all of a few minutes to find himself succumbing to his desires for you. 

His hands ran all the way down your back, his fingers brushed over the back of your thighs until he reached the end of your towel and now all he could feel was your skin. He waited a moment to see if you would stop him, but when you didn’t, he knew he had permission to do so much more with you and he was not going to waste it.

Lewis danced his fingers up your thighs until he had both of your cheeks cupped in each hand, squeezing a little, before slapping each one to make you shriek. His lips parted into a smile, he clearly thrived on getting a reaction out of you, everything he did would be to test you, to see what you really liked; even if you didn’t know it yourself, yet.

“Lay down for me, please.” He whispered into your lips. 

It took all of a second to switch positions, as you manoeuvred to where he wanted you, your towel began to slip off so you quickly held it together with your hand. 

Lewis watched you for a moment, sat back at your knees, he observed you cover your modesty with a sudden shyness, the kind he had never seen in you before. 

“Are you not comfortable?” 

“Sorry, it’s not that…I guess, I’m a little shy.”

Lewis placed his hands either side of your head as he leant over you, placing no weight on you at all but the weight of his lips, he kissed you with such a drawn out, deep kiss, before he rested his face just inches from yours. 

“Let me help you feel comfortable with me, I will show you why there’s no reason for you to be shy.”

With such a stark contrast to the way they found your lips, his kisses trailed down your neck with enough pressure you were certain he would leave a mark or two. He was careful to not touch you with anything but his lips until there was not an inch of skin left exposed for him to devour. 

Lewis looked up at you from the position he had found himself in at your chest, slowly his fingers unravelled your clasp on your towel, moving the white cotton to the side as he replaced it with his lips. 

So much time and care was taken with your body, he felt your tension release in line with where his tongue trailed and he knew that this was exactly what you needed. 

There was no rush in him, you would almost be mistaken for thinking he was the nervous one. He took his time to make sure each of your nipples had as much devotion laid with first a flick of his tongue around them before his lips clasped the sensitive nubs, gently sucking until what had fast become his favourite moan, escaped your lips. 

His eyes were locked on to your face as the kisses dared lower and lower on your skin until the only place left to be graced with them, was the very same place that needed it most. 

There was no care at all with the ferocity that was his tongue rounding your clit before his lips wrapped around it too, you let out the loudest moan yet as you finally felt how perfectly he was built for pleasing you. He was so much better than you could have imagined. 

Lap after lap he watched you, every move he made was to feel the way your thighs brushed against his beard whilst your whole body shook, and your moan, music to his ears. He knew right then that he would make you feel this way forever if you let him. 

“Lewis…Lewis…I-“

Your weakened pleas were incoherent and told him nothing, but they didn’t need to, the way your body shook with every little flick of his tongue, told him everything and more. You were close now, so close that your ending was but a few laps from arriving. 

“Don’t hold back, beautiful. Let me taste it all.” 

Lewis spoke with a huskiness about his voice, you would soon realise that was the way he sounded when he was so ridiculously turned on he was ready to burst, but this was about you, how good he was making you feel, that was his priority right now, the grinding of his dick into the bed was something he had no control over, it was the only thing that would taper his overwhelming urge to be inside of you. 

He took hold of both of your hands, interlocking your fingers between his so he could feel you squeeze them as the inevitable pleasure washed over you. When it hit, when the knot in your stomach exploded, it took every sense of yours away, faded your ability to think, talk and even see, into nothingness, as everything about the next thirty seconds was focused on your pleasure alone. 

As you moaned out into the air, squeezing both his hands with yours and your thighs tightened around his face, Lewis couldn’t help but groan too, your pleasure was his, after all. He was so attentive that he never once stopped caressing your now overstimulated clit with his tongue until he was absolutely certain you were done; your little whimpers told him as much. 

“You have no idea how many nights I have got myself off thinking about how sweet you would taste.” He kissed your flustered cheek. “And Baby, you didn’t disappoint.”

You were still coming around from your orgasm as you felt him on top of you, this time his whole weight was on you. He was topless now, clothed in nothing but the shorts that clung loosely at his waist. He was so much heavier than you imagined, his height did his broadness no justice but that was an afterthought, all you could concentrate on this second, was the thing that was throbbing against your middle as he lay on top of you. 

“Lewis…please…”

Sentences were still something you were unable to form in your post orgasmic haze, the smile on his face told you how adorable he found it. Your desperate hands worked his shorts down his body until the sound of him smacking against your wet folds was all that could be heard. 

You gasped, he groaned, both of you in awe of each other before he had even put the tip in. His patience amazed you, he made sure to smother your face and your neck with kisses as he cradled you, holding his dick at your entrance whilst he did so. 

No movements you made, no rocking of your hips, no pressing down on his cheeks, made him do the one thing you needed; put himself inside of you. He waited so frustratingly long to make the final move, you found yourself losing any semblance of your own patience by the second. 

“Are you the shy one now?” You teased him. “It’s rude to keep a woman waiting, Lewis.” 

He let out a chuckle as he moved his hand in between both of your bodies so he could hold his dick at your entrance. You swallowed your gasp, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his size shocking you before you had even really felt it, but you needn’t have, he could already tell. 

“So confident a moment ago, think it will be a little too much for you?” It was his turn to tease now. 

“I can handle it…” 

Your lips parted as he slowly stretched you, just enough so only the tip was inside of you; pressed against your sweet spot intentionally, your inability to speak told him all he needed to know. 

“Too much?”

You shook your head as your eyelashes fluttered with the struggle you had to keep them even slightly open whilst he slowly gave you more of his inches. He felt so very thick, he stretched you more than anyone ever had before and the second he bottomed out in you, you realised you had held your breath the whole time. 

Lewis was so very patient. You could feel the way his dick throbbed against your sensitive walls, so desperate he was to do everything he had thought about doing to you, but he kept perfectly still, brushing his lips over yours as he watched you adjust to his size. 

“That a little too big for you, Baby?” 

He was getting far too confident with it now, he could see exactly what he was doing to you without even trying, he could hear in your rapid breaths how this was so much more than you had ever taken before, and he could feel it in the warm wetness that had engulfed him, just how wild it was driving you. 

“Lewis…”

Your voice was nothing but a whimper now, a pathetic, lustful whimper; his name being the only word you could remember. If he had left you in this state by just being inside of you, you knew the moment he was let loose on your body, it would be like nothing you had ever experienced before. 

“Yes, Baby?” 

His kisses had moved down to your neck now, his determination to keep you in an overstimulated state was really something to behold. 

“Lewis…” 

“Tell me…” He moved up to meet your lips with a kiss that lingered for a moment. “Tell me what you need me to do to you.” 

You felt yourself clench around him as you heard his words. Lewis was willing to do anything you wanted right now, your pleasure was his priority and it was by far the hottest thing you had ever heard. 

“Everything…please…please…” 

He gave in before your pleas had even finished, hooking both of your legs over his forearms, he pushed them back towards your chest as he showed you exactly why he was so confident. 

The sex was passionate, raw, every bit about both of you connecting both physically and mentally as he drew out the strongest orgasms from your body without even trying. You had never orgasmed through penetration before Lewis, but he made it seem like something that came so easy to you with how often he could make you do it. 

The final scene played out with him moaning in such a deep guttural way, you fought back your own just so you could enjoy it. You watched him now, as much as your overstimulated mind let you anyway. You watched him, his muscles bulging as he strained to release every little bit he had inside of you, his skin damp with sweat all over, so much so it made him glow. 

Lewis fell to the bed next to you and pulled you into him immediately, you were so used to men needing their space in recovery mode it shocked you. Lewis didn’t need space, he wanted you as close as possible as you both came down from your incredible highs. 

At some point you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew, you were laying in bed alone and immediately your heart sank. Your thoughts ran crazy for a moment, panic of having now been conquered, Lewis was immediately bored; thankfully those thoughts did not have time to fester. 

“You look worried, what's wrong?” Lewis asked you as he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his face with a towel. 

He was still naked, and even when soft you couldn’t help but note how big it still was. You felt your mouth begin to salivate as you stared at it. Lewis noticed where you held eye contact too and giggled. 

“You’re still hungry?” He chuckled as he made his way back over to your side of the bed. “Babe, it’s late, we both need to get some rest before tomorrow. I’ll be over for breakfast before we have to head to the track, I promise.” 

Lewis placed a kiss on your forehead, you realised what was happening at that moment and grabbed his wrist. 

“Please don’t leave.” 

“But you need to sleep, Baby.” 

Gone was the need to call you by your name, that had changed the moment he got close to you tonight, from here on out it would be pet names at all times when referring to you. 

“Please, Lewis.” 

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” 

“More than anything.”

Lewis climbed back under the duvet, his whole body curled up around you, almost immediately you felt him begin to harden again. You couldn’t help but roll your hips back into it, you were exhausted but it felt a shame for it to go to waste. 

“No, Baby. Not now, you need to rest.” His nose nuzzled into your neck with affection. “Maybe if you do as you are told, I might consider fucking you so hard you are walking funny for the rest of the day.”

“Lewis, that is so unfair. How am I going to sleep now? That’s all I am going to think about.” 

“Well, you know what to do if you want it…” 

You could sense his delight in your desperation for him but he was not going to let you get your own way, not when he knew what was better for you at that moment. Regardless of whether you behaved or not, there was no way he was letting you leave that bed without being filled with him at least one more time. 

“Tell me a story, Lewis.”

“What would you like to hear?”

“Tell me about your first love, what was she like?” 

“Beautiful…breathtakingly beautiful…” 

You closed your eyes as you let your body relax into the big protective arms that wrapped around you. You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep, soothed by the soft tones of Lewis’ voice as he recited lines of a woman who began to feel more and more familiar as he went on. 

“Not only beautiful, she is the smartest woman I have ever met. She is able to command a room with confidence, she is able to hold her own up against some of the strongest men I know.” 

You felt him peek at you to see if you were sleeping yet. 

“Carry on, I’m still listening…she sounds great by the way…” 

He chuckled once more before he placed a kiss on the back of your neck.

“She thinks I barely know her, she thinks I want her just to add her to my conquered women list, but what I do know would probably surprise her. I know that for breakfast she only ever eats seeded bread, toasted lightly but buttered to every single edge. I know that with that toast she always has a black coffee, she always refuses sugar when the barista offers it but she secretly adds some to it at the condiments counter. I know that she tells people that she isn’t bothered about being single, I know that she says she has no desire to be in a relationship but I also know that her favourite genre of music is love songs, that her favourite movies are romantic ones, she loves love, she’s just too scared to try it.” 

You were so close to sleep now, trying desperately to hang on to being awake as you never wanted his monologue about you to end. You were unable to respond with words, instead you encouraged him with a gentle squeeze of his hand as you held it tightly, wrapped at your chest. 

“I know that she has spent two years thinking that I hate her, when in reality it couldn’t be further from the truth, and I hate that I even made her think that. I know that I need to make up for that, I need to make her feel as loved as she deserves to feel. There’s a lot of things I know, a lot of things I need to say to her, but she’s sleeping now, her soft snores are somehow now my favourite sound. But when she wakes up, I will be right here, and I will be here for as long as she will have me.”

He placed a final kiss on the back of your neck, so careful he was to not wake you. 

“There’s a lot of things to tell you about the first woman I ever loved, but the most important is that I have been certain from the moment I met her that there will never be another woman for me. You are it baby, you are who I pictured when I was imagining my wife as a little boy, imagining the mother of my kids, and I will work hard every day to make sure you want to be that woman too.” 

Lewis was drifting off to sleep now, his words now more of a mumble, but still his mind ran with so many thoughts, two years worth, desperate to escape his lips. 

“And when you wake up tomorrow, having heard only half of this, I will tell you I love you…and hope it doesn’t scare you away.” 

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 22 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

So one minuet I'm cackling laughing and then the next I'm blubbing like a baby. Giving myself whiplash over here! Just to be warned, I barely re-read this cause I want to get it out. So if something doesn't make sense, whoops, I will do a proof read later, I'll fix it ahaha. OMG yeah no this chapter is all over the place, my bad!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (let me know if you want to be tagged.)

I tossed and turned, my brain in overdrive, wouldn’t let me go to sleep. The soft snores of the men filled the room. They all instantly fell asleep as soon as they laid their head on the pillow. I was jealous, my body was exhausted but my mind was wide awake. I kept replaying the fight I had with Don. Then how he was in the kitchen. Like he wasn’t upset by it, maybe he wasn’t. I rolled over trying to get comfortable but nothing worked. I reached down grabbing my canteen from beside my bed. I unscrewed the lip, tipping it back. No water entered my mouth, I shook it over my face. It was empty. I huffed. There was a water supply downstairs. 

I pulled back my covers moving very slowly. I didn’t want to wake the men, knowing they needed their rest for the patrol. I placed my feet down on the floor, it was cold but I didn’t want to put on my boots. I would be down and back in seconds there was no need. I got off the bed, wincing at every creak and squeak from the mattress and the floor. I tip-toed slowly out of the room pausing every time I heard a noise. I could briefly make out shapes in the dark, the large holes in the wall providing some luminance from the moonlight.

I snuck down the stairs, cringing with every creak they made underfoot. I made it to the third step from the top, stepping down on my toes, when my ankle gave way underneath me. I flailed my arms trying to reach for something to grab onto but the steps didn’t have a handrail. I tipped forward, my body careening down the stairs. I seemed to hit every single step on the way down. I winced, but not from the pain, from the amount of noise my body made as it bounced down the stairs. So much for being quiet. I barrel rolled down the steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. I lay still, panting from the fall. Maybe if i just didn’t move no one would notice. I wasn’t in pain, probably from the adrenaline that was now coursing through my veins, yeah that’s going to help me get to sleep. I heard movements from upstairs. 

“What was that?” 

“Was that a bomb?” 

“What was that noise?” I heard the men upstairs whispering to each other, trying to figure out what all the crashing was from. 

“Who’s there?” Even though I was laying on my front sprawled out with my hair covering my face, I could see the shine from the flashlight land on me.  

“It’s Emily.” I said weakly, raising my hand over my head. “I fell.” 

The sound of footsteps sounded coming down the stairs. Babe was at my side in seconds. 

“Jesus, of course it was you who fell down the stairs.” Babe chuckled. I groaned. “Sorry, are you ok?” He asked, I gave him a weak thumbs up. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

I got to my hands and knees, my head spinning slightly. Babe grabbed my hands pulling me to stand. I winced in pain, oh no there it is. My whole body screamed in agnoy, especially my back which took the brunt of the fall. I clung onto Babe’s shoulder’s. As he helped me back up the stairs again, the rest of the men waited at the top, some of which had gotten back into their beds. 

“Can we take you anywhere?” Grant asked with a playful smile. 

“I’m sorry, I was trying to be quiet.” I felt so bad for waking them all. 

“Are you ok though?” Joe asked from his bed. I gave a nod as Babe gently placed me back onto the bunk, lifting my legs for me to swing into bed. I wasn’t that injured but he had done it before I could say anything. I let him tuck me back in. 

“You’re such a goose.” Babe said to me before climbing back into his own bed. Everyone fell asleep quickly including myself. 

—----------------

I was up with the men as they prepared to leave on the patrol. I gave a hug to Babe and Grant who left with the men. All we could do was wait. We made our way into the basement, where the men would bring the prisoner if it was a success.      

The sounds of footsteps clunked into the room, surely they weren’t back yet? Cobb, Skinny and Garcia walked in dripping wet. 

“What the hell happened?” I asked, standing from my seat, making my way over to the shivering men. 

“We took a dip.” Cobb said sarcastically. I moved forward to the men who stood in front of me. 

“Here, take off those clothes before you catch your death. Can we get some blankets and dry clothes over here!” I called helping Skinny pull off his jacket since his hands were shaking so badly. I ensured the other men took off their wet clothes as well. Once they were in dry clothes I draped them in blankets and put them by the fire. Skinny was still shivering, I passed him the warm coffee I had made for him.  

Then it was a waiting game again. Everyone else was out to help with covering fire. The men who had fallen into the water and I waited in the basement. I could hear distant gunfire and explosions. I could hear the sound of the whistles being blown, they were on their way back. I paced around the room, anxious to see how it went. I flinched with every explosion, come on why aren’t they back yet.       

The door burst open as the men poured in, “We got wounded. Come on!” They carried in the soldier. It was chaos, the men shouting orders, the gunfire that continued outside, the bustle of people that made their way in. The once empty room filled with four people was now teeming with life and noise. 

I made room on the table, instructing them to lay down the wounded man. It was Jackson. His face was badly injured as well as his upper torso. He gasped for breaths as he shook in pain. His face was burnt and disfigured. 

“It was his own grenade, he ran in too early.” One of the men told me. 

“Hold him down.” I yelled at the soldiers as Jackson squirmed around, making it harder for me to see. I pulled out my flashlight, opening his mouth. The inside of his throat was burnt. Shit. This wasn’t good. We were losing his airway every second, as it swelled shut. I needed an Oropharyngeal, but I didn’t have one, no one did. 

“Does anyone have a tube?” I asked, looking around at the men, they shook their heads. I tilted Jackson's head back trying to open his airway as best I could. But it would be no use in a matter of minutes when it swelled shut. 

“Does anyone have a pen?” More shaking heads. God fucking dammit. I wanted to try and do a tracheostomy, if I had a scalpel and a tube or even a pen I could create a new airway. But I had nothing in the way that I could perform the procedure. I flicked my eyes to Jackson, as he tried to fight, sitting up and moving. He was panicking, he was losing his breath faster, gasping and choking. 

“Jackson, lie still, don’t panic.” I tried to reassure him, but with each gasp he took, less air was entering his lungs. He was slowly suffocating. I didn’t have anything with me, no intubation kit, no scapula, no pen. I couldn’t keep his airway open. He was going to die if I did nothing. I could save him but I don’t have anything, I have no supplies. 

“Gene, do you have anything to intubate with, a pen, anything?” I asked as he rushed into the room. I watched him scavenge through his bag, he shook his head. 

“We need to move him, I don’t have the supplies to keep his airway open!” I told him. He nodded. 

“Let’s get him moving.” Gene called, the men helping him onto the stretcher.

“I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die.” He cried as he gurgled on his saliva. I held his hand as he was transferred. He looked right at me, “Don’t let me die.” I shook my head. “I won’t!” We moved him off the table. A bomb shook the house, making all of us duck, the men laying him on the floor on the stretcher. I kept his head tilted back as he choked on his blood and spit. I could hear him struggling to draw his breath. He writhed around gasping for air that wasn’t making it into his lungs. 

“Jackson! Jackson! Please, you have to hold on, please!” I begged trying to keep his airway open. He coughed, blood splattering out of his mouth and onto my face and clothes. He stilled. 

“No! No!” I said bending down pressing my mouth on his as I gave him rescue breaths. I could taste his blood in my mouth as I pulled back. I bent down again giving him two more, I blew into his mouth, turning my head to look at his chest. I waited for his chest to rise and fall, the feeling of his exhale on my cheek, listening intently for the sound of him taking a gulp of air. But I didn’t, his chest didn’t move, I didn’t feel anything on my cheek or the sounds of him breathing again. He was still. I hovered over his face, staring down into his now dull eyes. I pulled back, resting on my haunches, I looked around the room. Babe's eyes found mine, he shook his head in disbelief. Surely he didn’t lose another friend, another brother. The sad look in my eyes said it all. He had. We all had. 

I was so mad, I could’ve saved him, if I just had the supplies, anything, I could have sent this young man back to his family. 

I wiped my mouth that was covered in his blood. Martin approached, laying a blanket over the man, no boy. He was just a boy. 

The room that was once overbearing with noise, fell eerily silent. I hastily wiped the tears from my cheeks. I moved from my position walking over to Babe. I wrapped him in my embrace as he clung to me burying his head in my shoulder. 

I don’t think we slept the rest of the night. We made our way back to base, but we all stayed up. I sat in the middle of my bunk as Babe laid down smoking, resting his legs on my lap. I leaned back into the wall, still covered in the blood that wasn’t mine. Jones and Webster made their way back from dropping off the POW’s, wandering back into the room. 

“We heard you got two prisoners. Good work.” Don complimented Jones.

“Jackson’s dead.” Webster announced. Don and Lieb who hadn’t been there nodded, already hearing it from us when we got back. 

“Yeah, we heard.” Lieb said, laying on the top bunk behind Don.

“Yeah, well, they want another patrol tonight.” Perconte informed the men who had just joined us. When we had heard there was going to be another one, we were less than enthused, just because it went to plan didn’t mean we lost nothing. We lost a life. Why risk losing more? Why did they need more prisoners? The Germans were falling apart anyway. It felt like a waste to go over again. A risk we didn’t want to take. Just because it was a ‘success’ this time, didn’t mean the next one was going to be. What if we sent 15 men over there just to be killed. It was infuriating. I knew how this was going to end, hell it was all I learnt in history class. I knew that the Germans lost, and it was closer than they knew. I couldn’t blurt that to them, they would think I was crazy, or a spy. I wanted to shake Colonel Sink, tell him it wasn’t worth it. That these men were more precious than the German POW's they wanted so badly. Couldn’t he see that these men needed to be preserved. I huffed, patting Babe’s leg. He glanced over to smile at me. A small smile but it meant the world, I returned it. 

The men prepared nonetheless. Waiting in the same basement from last night. It felt tainted in that kitchen now. It wasn’t the same warm atmosphere it held before. Everything had been cleaned and organised but the feel of the room was heavy.      

I sat looking over the things in my medic bag. I wish I had more in it. It was almost barren apart from a couple of bandages, sulphur and medication. The rest of my bag was my personal items. I thumbed over them. The dress from Renee, a stone I had taken from the woods in Bastogne, the gloves I had had in my pockets the day I had arrived, the hand sanitizer bottle that was now empty, my wallet, my phone and headphones. It was bizarre to have those things in this time. These men had no idea who I really was. They believed I was a young girl from Boston who came over to help the injured and dying men. When in reality I had messed with someone much bigger than myself and got stuck. If I go home, or when I go home, these men will have passed. After I leave I will never get to see them again. I looked around at the group, they all looked weary and tired. Yawning as they cleaned their equipment. I glanced over to Cobb who stood in the doorway, raising a bottle to his lips and throwing back the drink. He swayed on his feet. He was clearly drunk. I shook my head. 

“Whatcha you looking at, Webster?” I heard him slur. I glanced up, Webster’s eyes trained on the inebriated man. Awkwardly glancing away after he had been called out by Cobb. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, college boy.” He taunted the man. I huffed, annoyed at his loud obnoxious voice. Everyone else was doing as they were asked, sure they weren’t thrilled but they never fussed. Cobb on the other hand had to be dragged to do everything and somehow managed to weasel his way out of it all. Moaning and groaning about doing the least amount possible. 

“Are you drunk, trooper?” Jones swivelled in his chair to face the drunkard. 

“Leave me alone.” Cobb snapped. But Jones didn’t flinch to his bitterness. 

“Answer the question.” Jones said again, tone more firm. The young boy who had wandered into CP yesterday was gone, he seemed more confident in his role. It fit him nicely. 

“Yes, sir. I am drunk, sir.” Cobb muttered. “Drunk, sick and tired of fucking patrols and taking orders.” He droned on. 

“Hey Cobb, shut up. It’s boring, okay?” Martin told the man. I hid my smile. It was nice to see him being put in his place. And Martin did give the best tellings off. 

“Taking his side, Johnny?” Cobb asked, looking butthurt. 

“Yeah, I am.” Martin said, turning away from him. We stayed in the basement preparing, waiting for our orders. 

I spoke quietly with Grant, Babe and Lieb who I was sitting with as they cleaned their guns. No one raised their voices over a hushed whisper. The tension in the room was solemn. 

“Do I need to do something about the situation?” Lieb whispered to me leaning closer so I could hear him. We hadn’t been talking before just sitting in silence. 

“What?” I asked confused, as the man had started talking like we were in the middle of a conversation that didn’t exist. 

“You and Malarkey.” He stated. 

“It’s fine Joe.” I shook my head, looking down at the floor. 

“Well it clearly isn’t, I can see that you’re upset. He also hasn’t spoken to you in days. Do I need to talk to him?” He asked concerned, ducking his head down to make eye contact with me. 

“What happened? This isn’t like you two.” I chuckled, when did he become so observant of me. 

“I have it sorted, I’m waiting for him to apologise.” I said. 

“Why does he have to apologise? What did he say?” He questioned me, the interrogator in him coming out.

“He just said that he didn’t have time for me, that he was busy.” I intentionally left out the part where he said he was my babysitter. I knew if I told that to Joe, he would try and fight Don.

“He’d better do it fast.” Lieb’s eyes falling on the man sitting across the room. He looked distant, staring off into space. 

“It’s fine Joe, plenty of other fish in the sea right?” I stated, trying to play off the hurt in my chest. Of course it wasn’t as simple as finding someone else, I didn’t want anyone else. But I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking he would do what I wanted him to do. Who knows he might be already done with me, before anything started. If there was nothing there like he said, he could be perfectly fine. He is just mourning his friends, nothing else. 

Joe gave me a sad smile, clearly not believing the front I had put up. His hand landed on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. I smiled, leaning into him. I rested my head on his shoulder as he lent his head on mine. We stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just resting. It was comforting. He was the older brother I never had. I didn’t think I would be able to smile again after losing Skip and Alex. I adored the two men. They had become my family. After I had lost them, I didn’t think I could trust and love someone as much as I did those two men. But somehow after the haze of it all, Joe waited for me. We were friendly, but never close before. Then suddenly he was everywhere I turned, with his charming smirk and witty banter. Same for Babe and Grant. They were just there when I needed them. They just took me in. I think that Alex and Skip had sent them somehow. I missed them so dearly. 

Grief was a weird emotion. I had experienced it many times before, but it was never the same. With my Nana, I was sad, but I was grateful, she was old and ready to go. I always thought of her fondly, never plagued too much by her passing. 

My mother on the other hand was a weight pulling me to the bottom of the sea. The heaviness of my grief was crushing. It was one thing to lose a parent, but to a disease where you had to watch them die slowly, knowing their fate, but secretly hoping for their survival. She was all I had left. I never fully am free of the sadness of her passing. 

Then here, losing lives everyday was hard, but it was manageable. Most of the men I didn’t know personally, I wasn’t tied to them. I felt sad for their death but was able to move forward. If I didn’t think of them too hard or how I had lost them, I was fine. 

With Alex and Skip it came in waves. The first a tidal wave, threatening to pull me down to the ocean floor just like with my mother. But I was dragged from the water, thrown a life saver. I had support. I would float on the top of the water, everything fine, happy and normal. Then every so often I would sink under the surface. The weight returned. It would hurt all over again, like a fresh wound. Just like lying in water, I would sink and float. Sometimes the sea was rougher than normal, or it was calm and tranquil. But just like the ocean it was unpredictable. 

I missed them all so much. 

“!0-hut!” Martin called. I stood quickly, focusing on the world around me again. I didn’t know how much time had passed, being so deep in thought.      

Winters, Nixon, and Speirs walked into the room. “At ease.” We all relax at Winters command. 

“This everybody Grant?” Winters asked.

“Sir.” Grant confirmed. 

Winters spoke to the men, telling them he was proud. My eyes wandered over to Nixon who hung in the archway. I smiled at him as he sent me a wink. I didn’t miss the exhaustion that lingered on his face. He motioned for me to pay attention, still smiling. I looked back at Winters who was telling the men there was another patrol set for tonight. Many heads hung low. Winters explained the plan, noting that not much was changing, other than the men would need to go further into town. More risk. I sighed, my leg bouncing nervously. Babe’s hand stilled my movements, he left his hand there. 

“It will be 0200 hours instead of 0100. Is that clear?” Winters asked, the men confirming. “Good. Because, uh, I want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight. Which means in the morning you will report to me that you made it across the river into German lines but were unable to secure any live prisoners.” Winters paused as his words sunk in. He was going to lie. The men weren’t going to have to go on the patrol after all. I grabbed Babe’s hand under the table, squeezing it tightly. I channelled all of my relief into our clasped hands so that I wouldn’t whoop and yell. Babe held my hand as tightly as I did his. 

“Understand?” Winters asked the men, his eyes flitting around the room. The tension in the room had evaporated immediately, like a weight being lifted off our shoulders. 

“Yes, sir!” The soldiers said in unison. 

“Good, look sharp for tomorrow. We’re moving off the line.” He told the men as he gathered his supplies and left. I could’ve fallen out of my seat. OFF THE LINE! OFF THE LINE! 

“Did I fucking hear that right?” Lieb turned and asked me. I shook my head in disbelief. A smile pulling at my lips. 

“We’re moving off the line.” I uttered, Lieb and Babe grinning at me.

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

Chapter 23

[shigarakisslutbag]

Thought that has plagued my mind (that I haven't actually brought up n rp) but imagine y/n finding out Tomura isn't his real name and after going through that mental whiplash, just genuinely asking him what he <I>wants</I> to be called.

Kinda just imagining the faces he'd make because it's not something someone would normally ask him? And him trying to figure out y ud care about something like that? Then realizing he's never thought about it either, he just did what AFO told him to and didn't consider it outside of necessity/ if it was something he actually wanted to do or not

(casual angst is underrated)

TW: angst, mentions of the bitch that is AFO, mentions and themes of lack of body autonomy

I've been meaning to get to this sooner but the last two weeks I've been pretty much unconscious bc of my new meds 😭 (legit slept 12 HOURS the other night).

Sorry for all the typos, if any, I'm on mobile lol.

Tomura would probably disregard reader for a bit. Not in a rude way, but he'd likely just shrug and give no real answer, because he has no idea how to. The thought would stick with him for a while, though.

When you're a kid, you don't really question things, because your brain isn't fully developed enough (obviously), so as kids we accept almost everything adults tell us as fact. It's actually a common tactic used by some parents to get them to behave or teach certain lessons. For example: if a parent wants the child to stop misbehaving, they use Santa or "call" Santa on their phone as a way to keep the child from doing things they aren't supposed to.

This isn't to say tomura was "lied" to necessarily, but he didn't have the maturity level to be able to make decisions like that for himself, and understand he had a choice, so when afo gave him his new name, he didn't have any objections because... why would he? He grew up with the idea that his life and body- even his name, were not his. Of course he's not going to give his real name any thought because it wasn't really on the table. Up until this point, probably hadn't even thought of his real name at all.

Now, to circle back to the original question, how would tomura react beyond this? I would say after contemplating that option, he'd also wonder why reader would care enough to ask. Why do you care about what he wants? He can't really wrap his head around it, but now that the question has been asked, and now that he knows he has the option, he'd unsurprisingly choose his real name.

I think one of the biggest reasons he'd rather use his real name, is because he doesn't want to use a name given to him by someone who tried to control him. Tomura is not really the type to like being told what to do lol. I mean he is the leader after all. You'd be the first he allow to use his real name. Eventually the other members too, but you were the first who cared enough to ask, so naturally you're the first who he'll tell what he wants to be called. It won't seem like it in his facial expressions, but hes grateful you put that thought into his mind. He won't forget that.

A/N: I love casual angst that doesn't make me wanna throw myself into incoming traffic. Am I gonna read a fic about cheating tomura or cheating reader? Absolutely tf not. Will I read or write a fic that makes me wanna cry myself to sleep bc I can't comfort said fictional character? Absolutely.

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

okay this is for the "I say Havers"-meta anon because I feel a bit bad that I didn't give you what you wanted🙈

So we pick it up again after, the last post I showed you.

Captain says his line about the cover drive, Havers thanks him and then this happens :

(Two btws: -I remember making one of my silly little lazy posts with "say something I'm giving up on you" to this image

-just found out whilst looking for the GIF: I actually can tell from Gifs that only have his facial expression what has been said to him and at which point we are in the scene,solely based on his expression😮 )

Sorry back to the meta:

Would you look at him. In the first scene we have with him Cap dismisses him by saying "carry on" and Havers gets back to his duties. But here Cap, all wrapped up in his feelings made room for a pause by not saying anything after his cricket comment.

Now Havers says this and of course he can't just leave,he has to be dismissed and my boy has places to be (north-africa). But this is clearly not him asking for further commands etc.

Look at his eyes completely fixed on Cap and his raised eyebrow and the movement of the head. It's simutaneously the gesture one makes to remind someone that it's their turn to speak or do something as well as it looks like he tries to not only encourage Cap but is trying to indicate that "If you have anything to say, now is the time". Basically it looks like he's desperately waiting/yearning/hoping that Cap will adress his feelings/confess his feelings. He's almost trying to nudge him mentally to spit something out. (Still believe His inner monologue here was "say something, say something, say something!")

But Cap just confirms that that's all and in this second Havers realises that Cap won't say anything. And look how dissapointed he looks because it's just not happening. He's giving up and very very briefly has to get his facial expression in check. he turns to leave

(Excuse the screenshot quality I'm typing this on my phone and had to take this from YouTube)

So Cap now panicks a bit because this is probably the last conversation they'll be having and he at least has something to say that resembles a good bye or an I miss you just something to tell Havers what he means to him. So at the last minute:

and of course Havers whips around with an expectant look the only difference is he does not look like he's screaming internally wondering If Cap will confess anymore. I guess because he's already in his stiff upper lip/professional mode because my god the man can hide his emotions Like 1000 times better than Cap. Also he has given up after Cap gave him emotional whiplash twice already in this conversation. But nonetheless there is still a faint hope which is shown by how fucking fast he turns towards him.

So the next part hast been said by others before. Cap tries to say something, his courage leaves him, he shakes his head to himself and settles for

With this pleading look on his face of I dunno "please I mean it"? "please you have to understand/to see"? "Please believe me when I say"?

Wordwise though he's going the semi professional route of "I really liked working with you because I like you as a colleague"

So now Havers reaction which I for the longest time could not get. I mean i get the nod that's a "acknowledged....thank you ...you too... bye"

But the smile? So yeah now I gotta say first of all professional mode is on. But also in a way he got an "It's a shame that you're going, I wish you we're staying" but just not as a romantic confession. So he's smiling because at least he got that and it was sincere? Also happy that Cap did at least say something about his emotions towards him in the end?

seriously interpretations on that smile are very welcome.

Sorry this all is again incoherent babbling, but at least it's now about the right part of the scene.