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aanoia · 1 year

Note

Hi, how’s your day going? Could you do a Mattheo riddle and Draco Malfoy fix where they accidentally stop paying attention to the reader and she thinks it’s something she did when I’m reality they are having a hard time processing their feelings for the reader. I hope that makes sense. It’s completely up to you if you want to do this!

Yes of course! Sorry it took forever to respond, I've been super busy moving and doing finishing touches on renovating my new house! I should be getting a lot of requests out soon, hopefully at least.

Also, my day was alright. How was yours?

Can't Help But Love You

Draco Malfoy x reader, Matteo Riddle x reader

Words; abt 700 each

Warnings; none

Yall I had to do research on how Matteo was bc ik nothing abt him, idek if what I wrote for him is anything like him so lemme know

Draco Malfoy

“So yeah, that’s why I absolutely hate her. Do you get it now?” Y/n asked Draco as she sat across him from the table, explaining why she hated Hermione Granger so much. He continued looking at his plate, not looking up. Y/n waved her hand in front of his face, “Hello?” He blinked and looked up.

“What?” He asked, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, “What?” he asked again, clearer this time.

“Were you paying any attention to what I just said?” Y/n questioned.

“Uh, what were we talking about?”

Y/n scoffed and shook her head, pushing her plate forward and standing up. She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

“Wait, Y/n.” Draco said but she shook my head again.

“No, you keep ignoring me and I’m tired of it. I’m gonna go study. Bye, Draco.” Y/n walked off, leaving an exasperated Draco behind. Draco groaned and buried his head in his hands.

A few stray tears left Y/n’s eyes as she walked out of the Great Hall quickly. Draco hadn’t been paying much attention to her for weeks now and she couldn’t help but think it was something she did. She constantly replayed the last few months she had with him but couldn’t find anything she did, which only made it worse. She loved Draco. She was in love with him. He was her best friend. The boy she’s been secretly pining over since first year. It hurts that he’s just ignoring her now.

Y/n quietly sat in the Slytherin common room, seeking warmth from the fire. She flipped the page of her book as someone sat down in the large chair next to hers. She spared a quick glance up and immediately looked back down and continued reading.

“I’m sorry.” Draco whispered, just loud enough for Y/n to pick up on. She continued looking at her book, however her eyes no longer flit along the words. “I-uh, I don’t mean to ignore you. I’ve just been doing a lot of, uh, thinking. There’s something I need to tell you, and I need you to look at me when I do.”

Y/n sighed and put her now closed book on her lap. She turned her body and looked at Draco who had a serious, yet slightly nervous expression on his face.

“Go ahead.” She said and meant it to come out harsh, but her words were soft and comforting.

“So, um…” He rubbed his neck. “Merlin, this is hard. So I’ve been thinking-”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“No, you don’t talk until I say you can. I need to get this out, no interruptions.”

Y/n smiled slightly and pretended to zip her lips, lock them and throw the key. Draco’s posture softened.

“Okay. I feel something that I’m not so sure I’ve ever really felt. And it’s been really confusing and I don’t know what to do about it. I talked to Blaise and Matteo about it and they said- well they said-” He hesitated and Y/n urged him on with my hand. “They said I’m probably in love with you.” Her eyes widened slightly. “And I’ve been thinking about it a lot, that’s why I haven’t been paying much attention to you. But I’ve come to a conclusion. Y/n, there’s no probably. I am in love with you, and it scares me and I am so so sorry I’ve been ignoring you.”

Y.n stayed silent with a smile.

“Are you going to say anything?” Draco asked and she brought her hand to the invisible zipper and tried to unzip it but couldn’t due to the lock. Draco shook his head with a laugh and pulled something invisible out of his pocket. He pointed the invisible thing to her mouth. “Alohomora.”

Y/n smiled and unzipped her lips. Instead of talking though, she grabbed Draco by the face and pulled him to her, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. She pulled away after a few moments with a smile.

“I love you too, Draco.”

Matteo Riddle

Y/n sat at the Three Broomsticks, laughing with her girl friends. Her laughter halted as her eyes landed on Matteo Riddle who had just walked in. Her friends noticed and their laughter subsided as well.

Hermione grabbed Y/n’s hand from over the table, “Y/n, are you alright?”

“Matteo wasn’t as busy as he said.” She said, motioning in his direction with her head. Hermione and Pansy (who was sitting right next to her), turned their heads, whereas b/f/n just looked over, as she was already facing him.

“Ugh, that dick.” Pansy scoffed as she turned back around. “He’s such an ass.”

“While I do not appreciate the language, I agree with Pansy.” Hermione agreed.

“I can’t believe he said he was too busy to hang out then he comes here with his dimwitted friends.” B/f/n said while shaking her head. “It’s so messed up.”

Y/n shrugged, pushing down the hurt and mustering up the best smile she could. “It’s alright. Shall we go?” She asked and her friends nodded, placing some coins on the table for the butterbeer. Y/n grabbed her jacket and threw it on quickly before wrapping her Slytherin scarf around her neck.

B/f/n grabbed Y/n’s hand as they began making it to the door. Y/n spared one look up and met the eyes of Matteo, who looked at her in guilt. The cold air nipped at the girl's nose as she exited the warm pub, snowflakes immediately littering her hair and shoulders.

The group made it a few feet before the door burst open from behind them. The girls turned their heads to see a disheveled Matteo without a coat on. Y/n’s hurt quickly turned into anger as she scoffed and turned around, her friends following after her.

“No, Y/n wait!” Matteo called after them, grabbing onto her free hand. His hand was cold -colder than usual due to the freezing weather- but soft.

“No, Matteo. I’m busy.” Y/n said spitefully.

“Please.” He begged, moving in front of the girl. She hesitated, looking into his eyes before sighing. She motioned her friends to continue without her, but they stayed put.

“Guys it’s okay, I’ll meet you back at Hogwarts.” Y/n assured them and they hesitated before walking off.

Matteo grabbed onto Y/n’s other hand and walked her to the sidewalk so they weren’t standing in the middle of the road. She shook off Matteo's hands and crossed her arms.

“What do you want, Matteo?” She spat angrily and Matteo took a deep breath, trying not to freak out at her anger, which proved to be very difficult considering how he had grown up.

“Well, you don’t need to be all snappy.” Matteo mentally slapped himself, there he goes again.

“Oh, really? You’re the one who’s been blowing me off all week!” Y/n said loudly.

“Well, it doesn’t give you the right to be such an ass!” Matteo said, raising his voice slightly.

Y/n laughed exasperatedly, “Me? I’m the ass now?” She yelled. “You’re the ass here! You’ve been ignoring me and lying to me! I don’t get it, Matteo. What did I do to you!?”

“I love you, okay? I fucking- I fucking love you, and I hate that I love you.” He said, his voice getting quieter as the sentence went on. “Because you’re my best friend, and you don’t love me back. And I am so fucking sorry for making you feel like shit and lying to you, I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so sor-”

Y/n cut him off with a kiss as she threaded her fingers through his hair. After a moment Matteo kissed back, his left hand falling into the dip of her waist. She closed the distance between their bodies, pushing herself against him until she no longer could. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes opened and he smiled at her. Little snowflakes littered her eyelashes and her eyes remained close, savoring the moment.

Matteo gently rubbed Y/n’s cheek and her eyes fluttered open.

“I’m cold.” He whispered and Y/n laughed gently.

“Because you didn’t put your jacket on, idiot.” She whispered back.

“Y’know what will make me warm?”

“Your jacket?”

“Another kiss.”

She closed her eyes again and brushed her lips over his, “Your wish is my command.”

#draco malfoy #draco #draco malfoy x reader #matteo riddle x reader #matteo riddle #harry potter #romance #aanoia

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dameronscopilot · 2 years

Text

I’ll Be Your Bright Side

Pt. 3 - Find Me Where the Skies Are Blue

Benjamin “Benny” Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your trip to New York with Benny unfortunately only served to amplify your feelings for your best friend, because now you can't stop thinking about the way it felt to wake up in his arms—platonically or not.

But try as you might to focus your attention elsewhere for the sake of your fragile heart, you just can't escape the pull of Benny Miller's orbit.

Word Count: 7.3k

Rating: 18+ Content: fluff, angst, pining, feels, (eventual) best friends to lovers, Triple Frontier boys and their antics, protective benny, NSFW sexual content

Series Playlist

Part 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST | Part 4

As much as you positively ached to savor the feeling of Benny’s arms around you for just another moment, when the shrill sound of the alarm on your phone went off to signify that it was time to get a move on if you wanted to catch your flight, you forced yourself to move away from the warmth of his body heat for good. You didn’t so much as toss him a parting glance as you slid out of bed, because a part of you knew that you’d end up doing something that you’d regret if you did.

Even now, drifting in the temporary space between the fact and fiction of your relationship, crawling back over and kissing him in your childhood bed would cross the invisible line that remained. Regardless of his feelings, you had a feeling that he’d still cup the back of your head gently and slot his lips against yours, if only because he knew the fragile, tired state you were in.

And you didn’t think you’d ever recover from the mortification of him kissing you back out of pity.

Though the total lifespan of your faux dating ruse with Benny was hardly even twenty-four hours, once your plane touched back down in Florida, you felt slightly disoriented as you reminded yourself that the boundaries of friendship were now firmly back in place. You willed your mind to focus on steering your rolling suitcase through the airport, rather than the way Benny’s hand was gently curled around the crook of your elbow to ensure he didn’t lose you in the crowds of people that were gathered about.

Frankie was waiting in his truck in the pick up area when you exited, lips pursed in concentration as he fiddled with the radio knob. Benny took your bag, hoisting both yours and his up into the bed while you climbed into the backseat.

Leaning forward onto the center console, you turned to the man in the driver’s seat. “Thanks for picking us up Frankie.”

He smiled, tipping his hat toward you as Benny hopped into the passenger seat and added, “Yeah, thanks Fish. Will got tied up at work.”

“No problem. You guys have a good time?” Frankie asked as he pulled away from the curb.

You blanched slightly at the question, thinking back to the strained goodbyes with your parents over breakfast. “We had…a time.”

Frankie met your gaze in the rearview, and Benny turned back to look at you, his voice laced with feigned hurt when he countered, “I took you out for ice cream, though.”

Rolling your eyes, you grinned and leaned your head back against the seat, gazing out the window as Frankie turned onto the highway.

“Yeah, you did.”

—

Shortly after your return, you learned that Emelie’s grandmother’s health had taken a turn, prompting her and Will to set their wedding date for the following month, rather than next year. They hadn’t intended on anything big or elaborate by any means, so with the help of family and friends, their plans to turn their spacious backyard into a last minute wedding venue were quickly set into motion.

As you joined Emelie on trips to places like the florist and craft stores in the weeks that followed, you were incredibly grateful to have a distraction from the thoughts of ruffled blonde hair and bright blue eyes that ruthlessly plagued your mind. It was bad enough that your dreams about him had increased tenfold as of late, forcing you to constantly wake up panting and frustrated after spending the evening drifting in and out of vivid thoughts of Benny’s large hands on your naked hips and his mouth trailing hot kisses from your neck to your lips.

By no means were you a stranger to these nighttime fantasies about your best friend. At this point, you’d come to accept that you weren’t escaping them anytime soon. The problem now was that actually spending the night wrapped up in his arms had unfortunately served to fill in several blanks that had only existed as a product of your imagination up until this point.

Now you knew exactly what it felt like to wake up in the warmth of his arms.

Now you had heard the quiet, steady sounds of his breathing as he slept with his nose buried in the back of your hair.

Now you knew the hushed, husky way he spoke when his voice was still rough with sleep.

Now you knew the way his breath felt as it ghosted over the side of your neck.

Now you had seen firsthand the way his tousled hair looked fresh off of the pillow.

Now you were familiar with the soft expression that danced in his eyes as he opened them to the morning sun, glancing at you from across the meager space between your faces.

And when you had unconsciously drifted closer to Benny in your sleep, vanquishing the remaining distance between your spooning bodies, it left you flush against him when you woke up. Flush against him and able to feel what you realistically knew was a natural thing to find pressed up against your backside in the morning, but it made your insides flood with heat all the same.

Despite your best efforts, these were things you just couldn’t fucking forget. Especially not when you and Benny fell back into your normal routine in between work and wedding planning, one that often found him fast asleep on your couch after late movie nights. It left you all too aware of exactly how many feet of space existed between the living room and your bedroom as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling in the dark with only the loud, incessant beating of your heart for company. It made your heart ache when you quietly made your way into the kitchen the next morning, willing your death grip on the fridge door to quell your desire to find out if your couch could fit the two of you horizontally across its cushions.

And if some nights—when Benny wasn’t inhabiting your living room—you had your own walk of shame as you snatched his favorite throw blanket off of the back of your couch, well, nobody needed to know you’d suddenly made a habit of falling asleep wrapped up in his familiar scent.

In the years since the budding feelings for your best friend had erupted into an intense, unignorable overgrowth of emotions, you’d yet to actually talk to anyone about it. Part of you held onto the pathetic shred of hope that not speaking the words out loud meant that it would be easier to forget about it entirely. But really, the only people that you’d even consider talking to about it were Frankie, Will, Santiago, or Emelie, and the thought of the pitiful expressions that would cross their faces, knowing that your crush on the younger Miller brother was an unrequited disaster, made you want to puke. Profusely.

Needless to say, you suffered in silence. But now, in the wake of The Shared Bed™, the truth was constantly dancing dangerously like a ticking time bomb on the tip of your tongue. You needed someone to tell you to hang it the fuck up, to put you out of your misery. However, with Will and Emelie’s rapidly approaching nuptials, you’d have to wait a bit longer before spilling a load of your depressing word vomit on one of your friends, because the last thing you needed was to encroach on their big day with the revelation of a secret that threatened to ruin everything.

Carefully laid plans be damned, Emelie nearly beat you to the punch one Friday afternoon a week before the wedding when you were on your way to meet with the caterer.

“Alright, I don’t mean to put you on the spot. But I have to know. Did something finally happen between you and Benny in New York, or what?” Emelie asked in a casual voice, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the fingers of her other hand tapping on her knee.

You nearly choked on the gummy bear that you’d just popped into your mouth, and she glanced over at you quickly in concern. After reaching for your water bottle, you laughed nervously, fingers toying with the frayed edges around a hole in the knee of your jeans. “You say finally like you’ve been expecting it or something.”

Emelie stole another glance in your direction as she brought the car to a halt at a red light, an incredulous look on her face. “That’s exactly why I said it like that.”

You bit your lip, eyes resolutely trained on the road ahead. “We’re…just friends.”

“Yeah, okay,” she scoffed, easing back onto the gas pedal.

You felt a stabbing pain in your chest as you replied honestly, “Nothing happened. Benny wouldn’t want that.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Before you could ask her what she meant, the sound of her phone’s ringtone flooding through the car’s speakers interrupted you, and the conversation was all but forgotten in the midst of a three-way call from her mom and her sister about decorations.

Emelie’s words danced in your head on repeat that evening, leaving you to spiral over the implications behind them. But you couldn’t even ease your way back into the topic later, because the next time that you saw her was on Sunday, when Santiago had insisted that—with the wedding set for the following Saturday—you all needed a relaxing, fun day after weeks of scrambling and planning.

Why Santi thought floating down a lazy river was in any way a relaxing activity for the six of you was absolutely beyond your comprehension, given the fact that fifteen minutes in, Benny somehow managed to pop his float after their ill-timed arm wrestling match. As the bag of Fritos that Benny had brought along with him tipped over and spilled out, an army of soggy corn chips now joining in on your floating party, a splashing match ensued, leaving all of you dripping wet.

And of course, because your float just so happened to be the largest amongst the group, Benny ended up climbing up beside you, his body leaning against yours as the inflatable contracted toward the middle under your combined weight.

“I hope you’re planning on rescuing me when this thing sinks, Miller,” you grumbled, internally willing away the goosebumps that were creeping up your arms at the warm, wet feeling of Benny’s skin pressed to yours.

Benny slung his arm over your shoulder, feigning mock offense. “You think I’d let you drown?”

You shot a knowing look over at Santi and Frankie, both of whom were failing miserably in their feeble attempts to hide the ogling they were doing at a group of girls floating past behind their sunglasses. “You might be distracted,” you teased, though the words felt wrong on your tongue.

“Not a chance,” Benny winked as he took off his hat and placed it on your head, running a hand through his wet hair.

You had all of thirty seconds to overthink every syllable that had left Benny’s lips in the past few minutes before Santi’s tube bumped into yours, knocking you back to reality.

“You ready for your hot date on Tuesday, Ben?” Santiago asked, his tone dripping with implication.

Despite the sweltering heat outside and the surprisingly warm temperature of the river, it felt as if someone had dumped freezing cold water over you.

Benny rolled his eyes, whacking Santiago in the arm. “Fuck off, man,” he chuckled.

Santi wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before pushing off to go and bother Frankie, and both men were completely unaware of the fissure inside of you that had just cracked, leaving a gaping canyon through your fragile heart.

Benny turned to you, a grin on his face as he opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off and swiftly changed the subject, because every single thread you were barely hanging on by would snap the moment you had to hear about whatever girl he was seeing directly from his own lips.

You scraped through the rest of the day on autopilot, putting on just enough of a front that the man beside you would be none the wiser to the fact that you were on the brink of falling apart. When you were finally free to scramble to your car to lick your wounds in private, you resolutely fought the burning urge to cry over your steering wheel until you were home.

Later that evening, you begged off your plans to watch a movie at Benny’s apartment with the excuse that you had a killer stomach ache. Lies be damned, you did feel more than a little nauseous as you sat wrapped up in The Benny Blanket on your couch, mind running through a million and one miserable scenarios of Benny having a girlfriend for the first time since you’d met him. Though you knew it was selfish, because you couldn’t deny how badly Benny deserved a happy relationship, the realization that you’d no longer fit so snugly into his life sent a fresh wave of bitter panic through your gut. The two of you were far too close and comfortable with one another, and he’d definitely be forced to put an appropriate amount of distance between you when you were no longer the girl he should be spending most of his time with.

You needed to get a goddamn grip.

Swiping furiously at the hot tears that stained your cheeks, you flung the blanket across the room and made your way to the kitchen, digging out a fancy bottle of wine from Frankie that you’d stashed under the kitchen sink for a rainy day. And what a fucking rainy day this was.

As the liquid in the bottle steadily disappeared, you ignored the string of texts from Benny that sat waiting patiently on your phone’s lock screen, opting to instead download that stupid dating app again. Several swigs and a few hiccups later, you were logged back into your account, and your thumbs took control as you searched through your inbox and fired off a message before you could change your mind.

The next morning, you woke up to find yourself curled up on the couch, tucked in with the fuzzy plaid blanket that had somehow found its way back over to you. You groaned at the bright light that filtered in through your blinds, your head pounding from your hangover. Flopping a hand out in the direction of the coffee table, you reached for your phone, but your fingers came in contact with a piece of paper instead.

You grabbed it and held it in front of your face, immediately recognizing Benny’s handwriting.

Brought you pho for your stomach, but you were passed out. Left in the fridge.

P.S. Don’t think wine is good for a stomach ache.

P.P.S. Can’t believe you passed out in the middle of The Princess Bride, wtf!!!

Glancing sideways, you saw your water bottle and a container of Advil had been placed beside your phone.

—

Early on Tuesday evening, you were putting the finishing touches on your hair when you heard the sound of someone walking into your apartment. Well aware of who it was, you rolled your eyes and made no rush to greet him. Didn’t he have a date?

“Damn,” Benny whistled when you finally walked out into the living room to find him sprawled out on your couch, a bag of chips that’d he’d pilfered from your cabinet sitting open in his lap.

Like clockwork, a blooming bud of warmth unfurled in the pit of your chest under the weight of his stare (followed by a chastising remark from your heart to fucking let it go). Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you spun around, glancing down at the outfit you’d finally settled on. Jeans and a blouse ultimately won out over a dress in an attempt to keep things on the right side of casual, though you’d opted to then put the extra effort into your hair and makeup at the very least.

“Too much? Not enough?” you asked, uncertainty lingering in your tone.

“I mean it kinda feels like a waste for you to look that good if we’re just going to be sitting here eating takeout food, but I’m not complaining,” he clarified with a grin.

Wait, didn’t he have plans?

“I have a date,” you explained, and saying the words to Benny felt so wrong on your lips you nearly started to feel sick.

Benny’s hand froze midway on its journey to his mouth, a piece of a Dorito falling into his lap. “A date?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Willing yourself desperately not to make any self-serving assumptions based on his tone, you put your hands on your hips. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Benny genuinely looked to be at a loss for words, and he nearly fumbled when he finally replied, “No. Uh. Just didn’t know you were dating again.”

I’m not. I just need to stop thinking about you before I lose my mind.

You swallowed down the words you wanted to say, pushing them down deep as you regretfully offered him a different response. “We’re just doing trivia night. Frankie and Santiago are coming so it’s not weird.”

Benny raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth, and then shut it. After a moment, he inquired, “What’s tonight’s topic?”

“Star Wars…” you trailed off, already knowing what was coming.

He balked, jaw threatening to drop to the floor. “You’re bringing Frankie ‘Wait is that wheezing dude supposed to be his dad?’ Morales and Santiago ‘Phantom Menace Bitch’ Garcia…and you didn’t invite me?”

Well, when he put it like that, it did certainly sound like you had set your evening up for disaster. But even if Benny was free, you’d have to have been halfway out of your mind to invite him. The whole point of tonight was to get your mind off of the man you were hopelessly in love with, not to shove a scalding hot poker into your unrequited purgatory by placing his stupidly pretty, smiling face front and center while you were on a date.

“I thought you had a hot date tonight,” you retorted.

Benny snorted, nearly choking on a chip in the process. He coughed a few times and then looked at you, bewildered. “A fucking what?!”

You threw your hands into the air. “Santi mentioned it when we were on the river!”

Benny dramatically dropped his head back onto the arm of the couch. When he lifted it back up, he ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “Yeah, remember I started offering one-on-one lessons at the gym this week? That little old lady that always winks at me and brings me cookies after her pilates class had an appointment with me this afternoon.”

Santiago was a dead man walking.

“So…you’re free tonight…” you trailed off.

“Nope,” he grinned. “I’m coming to trivia to make sure those idiots don’t ruin our team’s winning streak.”

You were interrupted by a knock at the door before you could process the kind of night that you were in for, and you turned to Benny, waving a finger threateningly. “Don’t scare him off!”

Benny snatched a napkin out of the box sitting on the coffee table, primly wiping the chip dust off of his fingers as he said in a mock-affronted tone, “Now why would I do something like that?”

When you opened the door, Dan from the cursed dating app stood in your doorway wearing black-rimmed glasses and a denim jacket decorated with an assortment of enamel pins. Though he wasn’t quite as tall as your best friend, he did indeed still bear a resemblance to Benny in person (albeit a nerdier version).

“Hey,” he said with a smile, handing you a small bouquet of wildflowers.

You thanked him and ushered him inside, watching as he took in the collage of paintings hanging up in your entryway—frames that Benny had spent nearly four hours agonizing over with a laser level when he insisted on hanging them up for you recently.

Speaking of Benny, who was now casually leaning against the kitchen counter and flipping a wrapped packet of tea between his fingers, a cold feeling of mortification ran down your spine when you clocked the exact moment he recognized Dan from the dating app. As if your crush wasn’t obvious enough, bringing home a guy that looked like him would really do the trick.

Dan eventually noticed Benny, and he startled for a moment. Though he was aware he’d be meeting your friends at the bar, he hadn’t known one of them would be at your apartment (and to be fair, neither did you).

“Hey man, I’m Dan. Nice to meet you.” Your date stepped closer to Benny, sticking out a hand.

“Likewise. Benny,” he nodded, offering him a firm handshake in return.

Making your way into the kitchen, you busied yourself searching for the glass vase that you knew was buried somewhere in there. At the sound of glass clinking against something, you looked up from where you were hunched over to see Benny closing the small cabinet door above the fridge, vase in hand.

“Thanks. Forgot about that cabinet!” you chirped, taking it from him to add some water before placing the flowers in it.

You set it down on the counter near the window, directly beside a little tropical plant in a purple pot that Benny had showed up with the other day.

When you finished, you turned around to find Benny staring at the flowers, though his eyes immediately snapped up to yours. He cleared his throat. “I was just heading out, gotta stop back at my place first anyway. I’ll see you guys there.”

Normally, Benny would do something on the way out like ruffle your hair or nudge your foot with his. But this time, he walked right past you, slipping on his shoes and leaving without so much as a brush of your shoulders. And even though Dan was standing right there beside you, your apartment had suddenly never felt so empty before.

You and Dan hit it off well enough on your drive to the bar in his dark blue sedan, a playlist that sounded like something you’d made yourself drifting through the speakers, and you tried to ignore the lingering sense of dread that hovered at the edges of your consciousness.

When your phone lit up from where it was perched on top of your thigh, your heart leapt in your chest as you saw Benny’s name flash across the screen. You bit back a laugh—he’d changed his name in your phone when the two of you were kicking back a case of beer late one night last week.

Benny is so HOT: help!!

Furrowing your brows, you tapped out a response.

Yes?

A series of two selfies taken in Benny’s bathroom mirror came through, and he was donning a different Star Wars shirt in each one.

Benny is so HOT: need to make sure i look cool when we win

You rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself as you told him to wear the second one, an obnoxious vintage green and blue tie dye design that you’d gotten him for Christmas a couple of years ago.

Benny is so HOT: thanks baaaaaaabe

When you walked into the bar with Dan, you were surprised to see Will and Emelie sitting at your usual table for trivia as well.

“Thought you guys were busy?” you asked in surprise.

Emelie smirked, “We finished up early. It’d be a shame to miss Star Wars trivia night.”

“You mean it’d be a shame to miss Benny in full out nerd mode when he yells at Pope and Fish for fucking up half of the answers,” Will snorted.

After introductions were made, you and Dan grabbed the two remaining empty seats at the table, which placed you directly across from Benny—he'd somehow still beat you there.

“So, Dan. You like Star Wars?” Benny asked casually, taking a sip from the soda sitting in front of him.

Dan chuckled beside you, and while it was a pleasant sound, you couldn’t help but think about how it didn’t compare to the comforting rumble of laughter you were so used to hearing from your best friend.

“Oh yeah. My dad basically raised me on the original trilogy,” he answered.

Once the game began, empty glasses began to accumulate on your table. As Frankie and Santi groped for wrong answers, Will and Emelie helped out where they could, and you found yourself playing referee between the other two men at the table, both of whom seemed determined to prove they were the real Star Wars expert. You did manage to shut both of them up when they were too busy getting sidetracked by a debate about a minor, one-off character and nearly missed a question, which you answered yourself while they were distracted.

Eventually, you excused yourself to go order another drink at the bar, your mind drifting as you waited for the bartender to acknowledge you.

Will’s voice shook you out of your stupor. “So…your date looks like Benny,” he commented, eyes fixated on the football game playing on the television behind the bar.

You forced your voice to remain steady as you replied, “Are you insinuating something, William?”

Will raised his eyebrows, putting his hands up in surrender. “Just making an observation.”

The last thing you wanted was to unpack the sordid details of your pathetic, unrequited Benny Miller saga right there at the bar with Will. Will, who was always so straightforward and calculated about everything. Will, who always knew more than he let on. Will, who would be kind, but likely wouldn’t sugarcoat it, when he confirmed your suspicions that your crush on his brother was nothing more than a complete and total waste of time.

“There’s such a thing as coincidences,” you stated mildly, picking up the glass that had been placed in front of you.

“Sure,” he responded as you began to walk away, though he didn’t sound at all convinced.

When you returned to the table, Benny was pointing an aggravated finger at Frankie. “Fish, if you mix up one more answer with Star Trek, I’m tying you to a chair and forcing you to watch all of the Star Wars films on repeat.”

“You’re in a mood, tonight, Benny,” Santiago commented.

Benny whirled on him. “You, too, Pope. You both fuckin’ suck. How did you forget that Luke and Leia are brother and sister?!”

“They kissed, it’s confusing!” Santi complained.

Benny flicked a peanut shell at his face as you settled back down into your chair.

After your team somehow still achieved yet another trivia night victory two hours later, Benny excused himself from the table to make his way over to the jukebox in the corner. However, when the next couple of songs were ones that you knew he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to, let alone paying money to play, you scanned the room for his tall frame in confusion. You eventually found him leaning against a table instead, an easy grin on his face as he chatted with two girls.

Santi, having also seen what Benny was doing, leaned in to mutter to Frankie, “Don’t know why he’s so damn stubborn. He could take both of them home tonight if he wanted to.”

The mental images that cropped up in your head unbidden sent a fresh wave of nausea careening through your stomach.

Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you turned to Dan, who was idly chatting with Emelie and Will. “Are you busy Friday night?”

Dan looked surprised, and the corners of his lips turned upward in a smile. “Nope. You wanna hang out again?”

You nodded, resolutely ignoring the feeling of your friends’ gazes burning on you. “Benny's an MMA fighter. We all usually try to go out and support him at his fights when we can, and his next one is on Friday."

Dan finished his drink and nodded. “Never been to one, but that sounds fun. I’m in.”

When you all went to leave the bar later, Santiago and Frankie called a cab, and Emelie, who hadn’t had anything to drink, drove herself and Will home. Dan’s car was parked beside Benny’s red pick up truck, and your best friend eyed your date curiously as he went to open the driver’s side door.

“You driving home, Dan?” he asked, his words laced with an odd tone that you weren’t used to hearing from him.

Dan looked up at him from across the roof of the car and shrugged, adjusting his glasses with two fingers. “Yeah, I mean, I only had a few drinks. I’m fine, man. It’s not far.”

Benny gently pushed the passenger door, which you had just pulled open slightly, closed. “Well I didn’t drink tonight. You live far? I’ll drop both of you off, she’s just around the corner from my place.” He gestured to you when he said the last part.

Though he seemed hesitant to accept the offer, Dan eventually relented. “You know what? Sure, why not. My place is pretty close. Thanks.”

Benny’s posture relaxed slightly, though there was a bite to his words when he made his way over to the passenger side of his own vehicle and added, “I know my truck isn’t as environmentally conscious as your little hybrid over there, but at least you guys’ll get home safe.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to Benny as he opened the door for you with a flourish, his face painted with innocence.

As if everything else that occurred throughout the day hadn’t been awkward enough, all of it paled in comparison to sitting sandwiched in the truck between Benny and Dan. Eager to avoid unnecessary conversation, you quickly fumbled for the radio knobs.

Benny’s right knee hovered against yours as Dan hopped out of the car when you arrived at his house ten minutes later, and neither of you acknowledged the fact that you didn’t bother scooting over toward the window once the passenger seat was vacated.

Between work and wedding scrambling, you didn’t have a chance to see Benny over the next couple of days, and you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse for the confusing mess of emotions that stormed your insides like a vicious tropical storm. While part of you almost wanted to revoke the invite you’d extended to Dan, you told yourself whatever flickers of false hope that you thought you were feeling were nothing more than a fool’s errand. You had to stop reading into things. You needed to fucking get over Benny.

When Friday evening finally rolled around, Benny’s contact photo (a picture of his head thrown back in laughter that never failed to make your knees weak) lit up across your phone screen.

“Hey. Me and Will are gonna swing by to pick you up for the match in like twenty. Sound good?”

You’d neglected to inform him that Dan was picking you up, and for whatever reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him now, either. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you there!”

Though he seemed confused by your response, given that you normally drove with him to his matches more often than not, he didn’t question it further. Because Dan ended up running a bit late, you didn’t get a chance to peek into the locker room to wish Benny luck beforehand, which was unlike you. As you made your way into the rowdy, crowded room where the ring was, you made a beeline for the cage, waving a hand to get Benny’s attention.

The hard expression on his face morphed into something far softer when his eyes caught the thumbs up you were giving him, and he nodded in your direction with a smile. However, you could have sworn his expression flickered for a second when he saw Dan standing behind you.

Although Benny had beaten this particular opponent several times before, the match proved to be a struggle.

“Man, Benny’s really off of his game tonight,” Santi sighed, and you flinched as you watched your best friend take a heavy hit square in the jaw.

“Yeah, he seems distracted,” Frankie commented, scratching his chin.

You chewed at your nails anxiously as you watched Benny stumble. His fighting style was all wrong—it was sloppy and uncoordinated, and there was an erratic edge to it that prevented him from falling into his normally focused rhythm.

Blood streamed down the side of Benny’s face when he eventually strode out of the ring, bristling with irritation over the loss. You stood with intent to follow him to the locker room, but Will came up beside you and laid a hand on your shoulder.

“He’s in a mood tonight. I know he hates losing, but he usually doesn’t get this riled up. Let me knock some sense into his thick head, you go enjoy the rest of your date.” He nodded toward where Dan was sitting on one of the benches beside Santi and Frankie.

It felt wrong to drive away from the parking lot without checking on Benny, the sharp tug on your heart pulling your eyes to the side-view mirror of Dan’s car as if you’d see him standing there waiting for you to turn around. Dan could likely tell your mind was elsewhere, and both of you wordlessly acknowledged that he’d be dropping you off and nothing more when he pulled up to the curb beside your apartment building.

Shortly after settling in on your couch in more comfortable clothes, you texted Benny to see how he was feeling and if he was home yet. You’d probably head over there if he was. However, when another two and a half hours passed and several of your messages went unanswered, you began to grow concerned.

You lifted your phone to your ear, listening to the steady ringing noise as you tried to call Benny for the third time. When it went to voicemail again, you groaned in frustration, dropping the device onto the cushion beside you. Benny never ignored your texts and calls, where the fuck was he? The unkind corner of your brain readily supplied an image of Benny with one of the many various girls that liked to enthusiastically cheer him on from the sidelines at his matches, and an undignified noise escaped your mouth as you pressed the palms of your hands to your eyes in frustration.

A moment later, you were startled by the sound of a knock at your door. Who would be showing up unannounced this late? Normally Benny would be the only answer to that question, but he didn’t knock. He had a key.

You strode over to the entryway and peered through the peephole, surprised to see your best friend standing there with his hands in his pockets. Confused, you opened the door and immediately asked, “Since when do you knock, Miller?”

He fucking reeked of alcohol, and he swayed slightly on his feet. Ignoring your question, his eyes focused on the living room behind you as he asked, “Where is he? I wanna tell him that he’s not good enough for you.”

What?

Your heart stumbled in your chest, and you gripped the door handle in an attempt to ground yourself.

“Dan isn’t here,” you said simply, stepping aside and opening the door wider as you gestured for him to come inside.

Benny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he paused in the middle of his ungraceful attempt to kick his shoes off and indignantly exclaimed, “He didn’t want to hang out with you after the match? The fuck is wrong with him?”

You cleared your throat before grabbing his forearm and tugging him in the direction of the kitchen. “I didn’t want to hang out with him after. I actually wanted to check on you and see if you were alright, but you’ve been ignoring my texts and calls,” you snapped.

He at least looked slightly embarrassed as you opened the fridge and shoved a bottle of water into his hands. “Sorry. I…had a few drinks after Will dropped me off, and I lost track of time.”

You shot him a judgemental look. “You do realize that the wedding is tomorrow, and Emelie’s going to kill you if you show up looking like hell with a hangover.”

Benny scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know, I know. I fucked up.”

You sighed. “The ceremony doesn’t start till four, at least. You need to get some sleep. Go take my bed, you’ll probably roll right off the couch like this. I’ll sleep out here.”

Though you could tell Benny looked like he wanted to say more, and everything inside of you was screaming for you to ask him why he thought he could judge who was and wasn’t good enough to be with you, this wasn’t the time or place to open a door that you might not want to step inside of. Not the night before his brother’s wedding. However, when you turned to go back toward the living room, Benny stopped you by wrapping a hand around your wrist.

No. He was drunk. Benny was always even more touchy with you than usual with alcohol in his system; this was nothing new. It didn’t mean anything.

Another night in his arms would fucking ruin you. You couldn’t.

But your resolve was hopeless up against the pleading expression on his face. You were so fucking weak for this man, it was pathetic.

And that’s how you found yourself tangled up in the warmth of Benny’s sleeping embrace once again, though it felt inexplicably more intimate when you were entangled under the sheets of this bed now. The bed that you slept in alone each and every night. The bed in which you’d entertained far too many fantasies starring the man beside you to even bother trying to keep count. For all that you thought that the first time was going to leave an aching dent in your heart, you knew that this was infinitely worse.

You dozed in and out of sleep, hyper aware of the way Benny’s steady breathing occasionally rustled your hair. The way his fingers lingered gently on your shoulder. The way he hooked his ankle around yours and pulled it closer in his sleep.

Hours later, when your phone screen read 4:15 a.m., you slipped out of bed and tiredly shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of water. As you returned to your bedroom and laid back down, Benny’s blue eyes cracked open.

“‘m sorry,” he said, voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

“It’s okay,” you assured him gently.

Benny propped himself up on an elbow, still slightly drunk but far more sober than he’d been when he collapsed in your bed. “S’not. I was jealous.”

Your blood rushed in your ears as your heartbeat accelerated at his admission. “You…were?” you asked carefully.

“Yeah. I know it was real fuckin’ immature of me to show up here drunk off my ass. But…you deserve better than that guy. You always have.” His eyes burned into yours.

“I’m just tired of being alone, Benny,” you sighed.

Benny was quiet for a moment until he replied, “I’m right here.”

“That’s not what I mean…” you trailed off, self preservation refusing to let you twist his words into something that wasn’t there. Pillow talk with rose tinted glasses was a fucking dangerous game.

“I know what you mean,” Benny said firmly, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand against your cheek.

“Do you?” You wondered if the rapid beating of your heart was reverberating across the mattress.

“I do,” he breathed out, his breath hot as it fanned over your lips. When had your faces gotten so close?

You didn’t know where’d you unearthed the stroke of bravery that allowed the next words to leave your mouth. “Then show me.”

The cacophony of noise and thrum of anxiety in your brain hushed to a muted hum as Benny slid his hand to the back of your head, and anticipation shot up your spine as his nose brushed against yours. Your hand drifted to the collar of his shirt, thumb brushing over a frayed edge before sliding upward to thread into his tousled hair. There was an audible hitch in his breath, his lips parting slightly.

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted over yours as the belated question fell from his mouth, one last chance for you to step back from the ledge.

Instead, you finally let go of the frayed rope you’d been clinging to for years and jumped.

“Yeah.”

And then Benny’s lips crashed into yours in a bruising kiss.

Kissing Benny felt like freefalling. It felt like finally giving in and swimming into the pull of an insistent current. It felt like the first vivid rays of sunrise and the last glowing winks of sunset.

It felt like coming home.

You didn’t know how much time passed as your mouth moved against his, charting new territory that you wanted to memorize until you were breathless. And as the kiss grew more heated, you pushed yourself impossibly closer into Benny’s arms, your body flush against his, allowing you to feel the evidence of the erection that strained against the front of his sweatpants. Nerve endings already alight from the desperate, needy way his lips were engulfing yours, you pressed your hips into his, a flood of pleasure curling in your belly as your hot core pressed against his hard shaft.

“Fuck,” Benny moaned against your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You keened as he reciprocated the action, firmly dragging his length along the apex of your thighs, where your underwear and sleep shorts were quickly dampening with arousal.

“Benny,” you whined, letting his name fall from your lips in a way that only the four private walls of your bedroom had become quite accustomed to during many a lonely night.

He groaned huskily in response, hands flying down to grip your waist as he rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him. As he returned one hand to your head to pull your mouth back down to his, his other remained firmly planted on your hip as he rutted up into you.

His kisses grew sloppier when you rolled your hips against him, your tongues sliding together, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. The coiling tension in your gut made you quiver as you felt the thickness of Benny’s shaft drag against your throbbing entrance over your clothes, your slick folds sliding easily over your soaking wet underwear.

Benny whispered your name roughly, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze just as the fire in your abdomen unfurled in a wave of white-hot heat, your climax washing over you. Gasping at the pleasure that flooded your body, you stole another kiss, and Benny moaned into your mouth, arms wrapping around you tightly as his own orgasm punched through him.

You carefully rolled off of him as you both caught your breath, but Benny pulled you sideways back to his chest, holding you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, too tired to make his way to the bathroom to clean himself up.

There were too many things you wanted to say. Too many things you needed to tell him.

But instead, you gave in to the tide of exhaustion that tugged insistently at your consciousness, and you fell into a dreamless sleep in Benny’s arms.

When you woke up back up later as the sun was pouring in through the parted curtains in your room, you found that you were alone in your bed. Alone in your apartment.

There was no note on your nightstand from Benny.

No text messages.

No missed calls.

There was nothing.

He left.

—-

Feedback in the form of comments, reblogs, and/or asks is always greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST | Part 4

*Benny's POV during Dan's arrival at your apartment

#I'll Be Your Bright Side #IBYBS #Benny Miller #Ben Miller #Benjamin Miller #Ben Miller x reader #Benny Miller x reader #Garrett Hedlund #Garrett Hedlund fanfiction #Benny Miller fanfiction #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfiction #dee writes

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sweet-seishu · 1 year

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Save Your Breath

hanma shuji x reader

warnings: angst, breakup, sad hours, not really sure what other warnings except that this is badly edited and written. i wrote it in five mins lol.

a/n: i did write this with a fem reader in mind but ig it can also be gn :) also if you listen to "save your breath" by jvke it was the inspo for this 😅😅

network: @tokyometronetwork

You knew.

You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you knew.

You looked over at Hanma, a cigarette between his lips as he watched whatever was on the TV, looking at his phone constantly as he waited for whoever he was texting to reply.

But you knew who it was, and you knew it was the reason your relationship was crumbling.

It happened at dinner a few weeks back, you made the suggestion of going on a date, it had been a while since you had both been out and you thought it might help the spark between you light back up.

You were excited, dressing up in a cute dress while Hanma wore a suit, you smiled when you walked back out to the living room after you were done getting ready, Hanma returning that smile with a small one of his own.

"You look beautiful y/n." He told you, standing up from the couch and walking towards you.

"Thank you Shuji, you look very handsome." You told him.

"Ready?" He asked, offering you his arm. You happily nodded, looping your own through his before he led you to his car so he could drive you both.

It was a disaster the minute you got there.

You noticed the way his eyes immediately went over to her when you walked into the restaurant, the way he stepped away from you just a little, dropping your arm as the hostess led you to the table. You couldn't help but look over to the other girl, her beauty knowing no bounds as you suddenly felt invisible to Hanma.

You knew who she was, he had told you about her before. His first love.

It all got worse when she left her table to come to yours, greeting your boyfriend with a huge smile as he stood up to hug her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist, making you feel insecure and hurt.

What hurt worse was when he introduced you as just "y/n" instead of his girlfriend. They talked for 20 minutes while you sat there, suddenly feeling sick.

You just wanted to leave.

It was different after that night between you two; soft kisses and gentle touches turned into pecks on the cheeks and short hugs, sex that used to be passionate seemed like such a chore now, to be honest you can't remember the last time Hanma initiated anything with you. When you brought it up, it became an argument. Everything became an argument with him lately.

You hated what you two had become. Your relationship with Hanma used to be so exhilarating. He was always surprising you, making you feel so loved, so special, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him. Now it was like you were just a nuisance to him, always getting in his way when he was home, which was rarely ever.

You knew he spent his time with her, that much was obvious with the way he smiled when he looked at his phone. You didn't think he was cheating, Hanma was loyal to you, no matter what anyone said, but you knew he was unhappy, and honestly, you were too.

You were tired, tired of keeping a failing relationship together when you knew he wanted to be with her. You were tired of the short answers, the constant way he would ignore you, saying he was just busy with work or that his phone died.

You couldn't keep pretending that everything was okay.

So when he decided to finally say you needed to talk, you only held up your hand to stop him.

"Save your breath." You said softly. "I think this is it for us."

His head whipped over to you. You could tell by his eyes he wasn't going to fight you about it, but he really didn't know what to say.

You had to take a breath, needing to keep your tears back, because he didn't deserve to have you cry over him. "You're not happy, I can tell you're not. You're with me, when you'd rather be with her."

Hanma only stared at you.

"I'm tired of pretending we're okay when we aren't. We're just hurting each other more by staying together." You told him, everything suddenly bubbling up to the surface. "I can't keep fighting for us when you don't try to."

"Y/n I-" He started.

"Save it." You told him, getting up off the couch. "You don't have to lie to yourself about your feelings for me, and I won't hold you back from being truly happy."

"I- I do love you.." He whispered.

"Could've fooled me." You stated. "I know you did, and I'm going to cherish the good memories of us for a long time, but you don't love me the way you used to anymore, and it's okay, I've accepted it. I can't- I can't compete with your first love, and it's okay." You gave him a sad smile as you walked to grab your coat.

"Y/n I- I'm sorry.. I don't-" You had to cut him off, putting your coat on before slipping on your shoes.

"It's okay." You told him. "Honestly Hanma I'm so numb from this situation I can't be upset, just do me a favor yeah?"

"What?"

"Love her properly, don't put her through pain like this." He looked at you wide eyed, as if the way he was treating you finally became clear. "I-I'll pick up my stuff tomorrow."

He scrambled to get off the couch, wanting to run to you. "y/n just let me expl-"

"Save your breath, Shuji."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #hanma shuji x reader #shuuji hanma x reader #hanma x reader #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji #shuji hanma #shuji hanma x reader #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma shuuji x you #hanma shuji angst

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trash-dinosaur · 11 months

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The spider that bit miles isn't from his dimension and that shows in everything he does basically!

1. the spider that bites miles glitches a lot in the first scenes we see of it.

2. Miles only sleeps one night as opposed to the rest of the spider-people which can take as long as a week of sleep which transfers to my next point

3. Miles' powers develop slowly over the corse of into the spider-verse! The order that I remember that they come in is sticky, spider sense, super strength, invisibility, and bio-electricity

Now into his powers individually! In order of how I ordered them (that might be wrong)

1. He has basically no control of how sticky he can be. Now granted he is shown to be very anxious 24/7 and that is doing him no help with the stickiness; but he should have more control than he is shown. Even when he's calming himself down like Peter B said it take longer than it should to fully unstick from the lights.

2. when miles gets his spider sense it's constantly bugging out and glitching while also mixing with some weird electrical sense and visions while he's in the back area of the subway looking for the spider. It also delays heavily at first and throughout the movieonly with danger but with other spider people. It just isn't working correctly overall with everything that it should be fast at.

3. Miles' super strength comes just as Peter B leaves and miles feels frustrated and hits the big bolder but it's not as strong as he's supposed to be. Because with ripeter, who stops the heavy machinery with one hand while tired, miles should be so much stronger even while slowly getting his powers.

(These next two are going to be switched around because it makes more sense the way I first wrote it and I don't feel like changing the wording lol)

4. What is shown however to be the most glitchy of his powers is his bio-electricity. As even when he's in serious danger fighting kingpin it won't work until the last second with the shoulder touch. Which yes is not just glitching is also nerves, he tries to electric shock kingpin in the train and it won't work at all. It has also been proven to glitch all throughout the movie only working at times when it's really bad timing.

5. A close second though is the invisibility; and again all throughout the movie its glitching and out of control, only working at the last second. Though he learns some control when stealing the computer it still fizzles out on him in the hallway right in front of doc oct.

Feel free to add what else you think I might have missed or correct me on something I got wrong!

#spider man into the spider verse #spiderverse #miles morales #he is stuck in my head #character analysis #pls help he has infected my brain

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introspectral · 1 year

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Mantis was really hopeful Vision’s pain could heal with time. She was hopeful because she witnessed it with the Guardians, with herself, every single day. All of them had been through pain, through loss, through trauma, fear, sadness, anger, despair, anxiety and loneliness. Mantis and her powers knew. And while the pain would never go away completely, they dared move forward. They moved forward tired, they moved forward complaining, they moved forward hurt - but they moved forward, and the empath grew more and more proud of them each day. They were trying to be heroes; light on ‘heroes’ with emphasis on ‘trying’. And maybe they weren’t. Maybe most people in the galaxy saw them as nothing more than flippant idiots, twisted reflections of what heroes were supposed to be, far too flawed to actually… well, guard the galaxy. Maybe they failed at being heroes, but Mantis knew what they were. Strong. Strong by themselves, stronger together. If they could heal from their pain, she liked to think anyone could. Even when the idea of healing felt like a mere illusion, dream or fantasy, clinging to that fantasy was enough to let the days pass and actually heal… painfully slowly, but surely. Vision was not lost.

Mantis nodded when Vision mentioned the idealistic becoming realistic. “Having an ideal of who you wish to be might only lead to frustration. The mind has a tendency to see what we lack rather than what we have. As long as you give yourself time, you should start to discover who you are naturally, perhaps by realizing what you like and what you don’t. You didn’t know you liked moths until this beauty decided it liked you.” She smiled when Vision thanked her for helping him find some mental clarity. Often, those around her seemed to turn to her for advice, as if she knew the meaning of life, while, at the same time, Mantis herself turned to Drax for advice. And Drax… thought he was invisible. Quite literally, he thought he possessed the power to become invisible. The notion amused her. It was something she loved about the universe and its people; no one knew what they were doing, but everyone was constantly turning to others for some enlightenment, and trying to help each other out. It was endearing, in a way.

She couldn’t help but squeal while petting the moth. “Why do insects have to be so cute? They are so very very cute! So very very…!” She cut herself off as her hand brushed against Vision’s, getting a flicker of what he was feeling. She touched his hand to get a better sense of it, closing her eyes to focus, antennae aglow. He… despised the color white? And she perceived all the reasons why. But he thought the moth was beautiful. Opening her eyes, she pulled her hand away, only then realizing that she had used her abilities on someone who was likely not okay with them. Someone who was recovering from feeling violated. She looked down, expression full of shame and guilt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “The use of my power comes so naturally to me… Sometimes I don’t realize I’m reading others.”

Mantis never knew how impolite that sounded until she said it aloud. Maybe it was the result of a lifetime constantly reading Ego in his planet form to know if he was going to kill her that day after, perhaps, finding a way to ease his own temper, deeming her unnecessary. Or maybe… “I think it’s the easiest way for me to understand. I can read others like an open book, but not myself. I try to spend time alone to reflect, and I greatly benefit from being on my own because it allows my powers to rest, but I never seem to understand myself. Not as well as my powers allow me to understand others. However, that shouldn’t excuse it. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

__________

What she was saying made a lot of sense. Perfectionism would only lead to disappointment. On one level, Vision did understand that, but on another level, he almost felt panicky whenever he thought of not perfecting himself. He was not entirely sure why, either. In all of his memories, he remembered being very content with himself. Perfectionism was never something he struggled with. Instead, he made a lot of mistakes and misunderstandings, but saw them as learning opportunities or the result of understandable gaps in his knowledge. But now… he felt like a perfectionist all the time. This must be fixed, that must be changed… This must be different, that isn’t good enough… Every time he looked in the mirror, it was like he was viewing a damaged car in need of repairs. All he saw were flaws.

Mantis was right, though. Vision hadn’t known that he liked moths until this innocent little one decided that he was safe to land on and interesting to explore. Maybe he didn’t need to have everything lined up, planned, and figured out ahead of time. Maybe... one of the ways he would reclaim his sense identity, such as it was now, was through gradual discovery. But that would require patience and an acceptance that time would reveal all, which was not so easy for Vision to deal with.

It was honestly very difficult now for Vision to let go of micromanaging his life. In his previous incarnation, he had been so relaxed. Life happened to him, he didn’t grab it by the throat and force it into a certain size and shape box. But now, Vision felt the need to control everything about himself and his life, to know in advance, and for there to be no flaws, mistakes, or surprises. It was a side effect of trauma, of betrayal. He had trusted in others and in the greater good, and that had gotten him killed, horribly violated, and restructured against his will. The compulsive urge to have complete control over himself and his life was real because of all that trauma. However, that, he was realizing, was a wholly unrealistic way to live. He had to find a a way to relax as he had before.

When Mantis commented on insects being cute, Vision flew into informational mode. “Statistically speaking, at least for human beings, creatures that are diminutive in size and that possess a larger eye-to-body size ratio are perceived as... cuter.” He watched the moth for a moment before adding, “And the fact that moths neither bite nor sting likely also contributes to their favorable status among humans.”

Mantis touching first his arm and then his hand drew his attention there. Understanding that she did not view him in a condescending or mocking light, nor did she have any intent to harm or exploit him, fostered acceptance within him for her actions. He... did not mind her touch. Vision knew full well what she was doing, for he knew her powers, and so he held still as she gleaned whatever it was she wanted from him. When she suddenly pulled back, apologized, and began explaining why she had used her powers in the first place, Vision's head canted. “I took no offense,” he said simply. “There are very few people I would allow and trust to do what you just did, and you are one of them,” he reassured her. “Did you find what you were searching for?” he then asked, curious as to what she’d gleaned from him.

#white vision rp #accessed vision verse

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pulmonary-laceration · 2 years

Text

the nature of unreality...

...and why, when under pressure, i shut down

cw: mention of abuse, dissociation, violent imagery.

psa that any abusive situations mentioned have been resolved via the legal system. i do solemnly swear that i am of no danger to myself or others and that i will seek medical attention if the above stated changes.

they call it the freeze response, and yet i have always called it weakness.

i suppose a more accurate term would be dissociation, but it is dissociation during highly stressful circumstances - a distracting of the mind when a situation proves too much.

(funny, that my first reaction is always to flee. more terrifying, when i can't.)

and yet it happens every. single. time.

well actually...that is a lie.

there has been one time where i have fought back. all sharpened fingernails and tearful yelling and past all the rage and fear and raw emotion that bites and claws at my ribs like a caged animal and the only thing i could yell through the tears was "please leave. please, please leave. i am not talking to you. please leave."

disgusting. subservient to the last. but then again, i have been bred that way.

because despite everything, my nature is to love. i accept the love and the hurt with equally open arms, with only my heart's voice to scream in pain and rage as i am dished out misfortune with a smile.

but i am getting off topic.

because i must admit that the imaginary is preferable to reality.

of course there are exceptions - good food, good company, the taste of air that blows in from the country, the feel of sunlight on skin. but exceptions are exceptions for a reason: that percentage wise, they are not the majority.

because for the rest of the time, the rest of the time that my eyes are open and i sit, or stand, or walk, aware of my thoughts and my surroundings, i am bombarded by the constant message of "not good enough." and i know, i know that i really do. that despite what efforts i make it will never be good enough - for society, for my parents, for myself. but i choose to ignore that, and continue to try.

there are just days when it's harder, you know?

and those days are when i am set upon and my air tears itself through my lungs. when my bones ache with the weight of existence. where even the touch of the softest clothes feels like needles stabbed into skin.

or the days when my thoughts consume me slowly, so slowly, and eat me up from the inside. gnawing at my brain stem, circling lovingly around my frontal lobe, chewing daintily at my hippocampus.

and so i escape. there are so many ways to do so, and i am glad that i happened to choose some of the less harmful versions - both to myself and others.

stories.

constantly.

every waking moment there lives another world in my brain.

and there, finally, i feel alive.

now of course i am shamed for it, when my parent and i are too angry, too tired at the world and at each other for things like politeness and the respecting of one's interests. "are you working on those stories again? ignoring your chores? leaving me to do all the work?" and god - oh god it is unintentional, my hurting and callous ignorance of those close to me. i do not see it until they shove it in my face.

that is the price i pay for my stories. that is the price they pay for having me.

i just wish that the cost wasn't so high for the both of us.

but my stories keep me sane, just like their work does for them. and we love and hate the stories, and we love and hate the work to be done. but we do not love and hate each other - there is only love, sometimes given grudgingly, sometimes wholeheartedly - but love and the stories are my only constants in my life.

both reassurance.

both escapes.

and in both i can find solace from reality - from the invisible hands that scrabble at my midriff, clench around my shoulders, trace over my throat - and i can breathe, at least for a moment.

#vent post #read the tags #mention of abuse #mention of dissociation #use of violent imagry

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nompunhere · 2 years

Text

“It’s time to get up,” I murmur.

Your little protests and squirms of complaint are so precious, even more so as you attempt to nuzzle closer to my face.

“Come on, up we get.” I try lifting my hand away from where it has you gently pressed into the pillow. You capture my thumb in a weak hold, feebly but insistently tugging it back to cover you once more.

I sigh, lightly chuckling at your antics. “I know, I know, but really, I can’t afford to sleep in with you all day. There’s so much to do!” I’d leave you to sleep the morning away on your own, but I know you get so cold without me here to warm you. I’m not that heartless.

Your eyes finally crack open, only to give me the most adorable pleading look. “You know I can’t resist that face,” I concede, allowing my palm to rest over you once more. You snuggle into the touch immediately. “Really though, I can’t stay. I had plans, you know.”

You open an eye again, giving me a lazy stare. I watch as your gaze drifts down to my mouth, then back to my eyes. Your expression tells me all I need to know. The answer seems so obvious when you point it out like that.

I let out a long breath. “I suppose that would work. You’re sure you’d want to spend the day in there?” You give a sleepy nod, pressing yourself against my slightly-parted jaws, silently requesting entry.

I whisper a soft “alright” before poking my tongue out and quickly swiping it across your face, making you giggle. You’re so cute when you’re tired; I could just eat you up. In fact, I bet you wish I’d get around to it faster.

Finally, I open my maw, and ever so sluggishly, you crawl in. My hand nudges you from behind, helping you along and guiding you inside. I can’t help the hum that escapes me as I get a taste of your sweetness. Positively delectable, you are.

You settle yourself into the space, waiting for me to make the next move. I prop myself up on my elbow, tilt my head just so, and let you slide into the warm embrace of my throat. At least, that’s how I’ve heard you describe it a few times, heh.

You slip so smoothly down my gullet, letting it take you as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. I trace your descent with a finger at first, then cup my entire hand over my chest as I feel your form sink deeper and deeper into my own. Warmth blooms in my core with your presence so perfectly near. I shiver lightly at the feeling.

It’s almost like you disappear for a moment, and then plop! There you are. I curl in on myself as you cuddle up to my inner walls. It’s amazing how easily you make yourself at home in my body. There come a few tired rubs, then nothing but the occasional minute shift. At least one of us gets to sleep in. Heh, “in.”

Careful not to jostle you too much, I roll over and climb out of bed. Throughout my morning routine, my hand constantly strays to my belly, checking in, making sure you’re truly there. Even after all this time, it still feels surreal to have you so close.

And even if you’re choosing not to start your day just yet, I appreciate the help in starting mine. Your presence makes it that much easier. Even when you’re all but invisible, you make all the difference.

—————————————-

DNI NSFW blogs, blogs that post exclusively hard and/or fatal vore, weight gain blogs, proshippers, TERFs, ace exclusionists, etc.

#soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #extreme cuddling #vore thoughts #fluffy vore #pred POV #(figured it's been long enough since the last one lol)#(preds get recognition too)

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rafescoke · 3 years

Text

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her.

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill.

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up.

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her.

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?”

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting.

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck.

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes.

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after.

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron smuts #rafe x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #outer banks

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lavynrose · 3 years

Note

can i request for headcanons for what the boys would do if their s/o ever gets jealous? hahaha thanks!!!

ToT men when you get jealous pt. 1

headcanons + scenario

character/s: Vyn Richter, Luke Pearce, gn!reader

warnings: not proofread, two suggestive lines

notes: if you want more of jealous reader you can check out this fic, Luke's part specifically.

these are pre-relationship hcs btw, also aaaa thank you so much for 370 follows! my brain is fried from uni, so Artem and Marius' version may take a while!

as always, comments and rbs would be awesome <3

masterlist

Luke Pearce

LOVE OF MY LIFE

Saying that at the start of every luke hc just because

Anyways, luke is a cutie, i just know that he's got a bazillion of people getting in line to have him for themselves

And unfortunately for you, you're one of those people

One downside of being his childhood friend is that, there are some people that would constantly approach you first, and try to get on your good side just so you can introduce them to Luke

People who like him tend to see you as a wingperson of sorts

Having to always give them his cellphone number, and on your highschool days they would even ask you to deliver love letters to him

Imagine how tired you are???

But here's the thing, no matter how many people you have introduced to him, he never seems interested

I wonder why

That's one of the main reasons why you rarely ever get jealous of his suitors because Luke doesn't seem to reciprocate any of their advances

So, imagine what you felt one day, when he suddenly did?

"It's a hairclip!" an overjoyed voice rang through your ears. You sank lower from where you're sitting, as if it will help you become invisible and perhaps escape this situation that you and Luke got yourselves into.

You let out an audible sigh of relief. The item that you dropped inside the box was a keychain, and you're glad it hasn't been picked out yet. The night is still young however, and dread began to sit in your stomach as you pictured the image of your item dangling from the hands of the host in your head, ready to shove you inside a room to kiss heaven-knows who.

"Why did we agree to play this game again?" Luke murmured beside you with pout, breaking you out of your thoughts of wanting to form an escape plan.

You two were sitting with your legs crossed, you can feel the cool temperature of the floor even through your clothes. You felt his knees bump to yours when he shifted closer, "I mean, I adore our former classmates and all, but this game," He whispered out of other people's earshot, followed by a scratch on his head, "I honestly don't know."

You rest your elbows on your knees and put your hands on your cheeks, "I'm asking myself the same thing..." you groaned, dreadfully anticipating the item to be announced next.

You and Luke were invited by an old classmate over for a reunion party, they claimed it'll be a nice opportunity to rekindle old bonds.

Which would be nice by the way, only if it hadn't been done this way.

After some catching up with their lives earlier, the party host began telling everyone to drop their favorite items in a box. After everything was all set up, they announced that seven minutes in heaven is going to be commenced, and pairs are going to be decided by which item is picked. You can clearly recall the coil settling in stomach when you imagine the things that would transpire.

"But i guess this it's alright! I think 7 minutes in heaven is pretty interesting. Whoever came up with that just wants to have some fun." He beamed a closed eyed smile.

"Fun?" you snorted, "Oh, Luke. Don't tell me you want to get your first kiss tonight?" your hands fly to your mouth and fake gasped, "Are you that touch-starved?" you were snickering at him, but a pang slaps in your heart at the thought of another person kissing your long time crush.

He looked away with pink dusting his cheeks, "it's not that Y/N. It's just that this is our former classmate's party. I wouldn't wanna spoil it." His chestnut eyes went back to your teasing ones, "but to answer your question. No. I'm not planning anything. We can participate in the game without kissing, right?" He questioned before turning his attention back to the host.

You fiddled with your shoelaces as you let out a hum of agreement, turning towards the host as well whose hands were now wandering inside the box, contemplating which item to pick next.

You wanted to tell Luke that this game would be 100x more fun if, only if, he was secured to be your partner.

Because quite frankly, You don't want to kiss anyone but him.

"Next..."

Your ears perked up from the host's voice, you held your breath, your heart started to race as you focused your eyes on the box, hoping silently.

Please don't let it be Luke's.

The host took a breath and opened her mouth, "It's a camera!" Your heart dropped at her gleeful words.

You and Luke slowly turned your heads to look at each other almost in a comical way, shock forming on both of your features.

You turned your head left and right to scan the room and search whoever the owner of the hairclip was.

"Should I?" He glanced at you with a worried look in his eyes. You wonder why was he so worried, it's not like you're dating or anything.

You flashed him a reassuring smile, "We don't want them calling us party poopers." you fiddled with your fingers, "Also, if I ever got picked some time later I'm also going to participate you know!" you stuck your tongue at him.

He chuckled, and trailed off a quiet, "Yeah."

"To the owner of the hairclip and camera, please come forward!" The host announced with playfulness lacing her tone, flashing a big grin to everyone.

Luke shot a look at you, and you smiled while nodding, "go get your first kiss." you chuckled. You were amazed that it was possible for you to say those words aloud without frowning.

Of course you didn't mean that.

Luke stood up, his eyes scanning the room in search for his partner, who then revealed themself from the sitting crowd.

It was Jess, and you could only gulp when you remembered who she was back in high school.

She was your number one client when talking about your famous reputation as a wingperson back then. She would strike up a conversation with you everyday to ask random things about Luke, she was consistent even though Luke kept turning her down, and she only stopped when you graduated.

She's wearing pretty revealing clothes, cleavage coming out of her tank top, her skin smooth as porcelain as she skipped over to Luke's direction.

She's stunning.

Jess put her hands on Luke's shoulders, pressing her body to his, "Long time no see." she began batting her eyelashes at Luke and you can only scream internally from how badly you wanted to be in her place.

Seeing this unfold in front of your eyes, you were already dying inside from jealousy.

You couldn't imagine what you would feel if they took a step further than this. Like kissing or making out. You couldn't handle it, not even in your imagination.

You were going to follow them there.

The two made their way to the house's walk in closet, you were sure Jess was going to do whatever it takes to get close with Luke. You waited for a solid minute before making your move.

Glancing cautiously at the host to avoid getting caught, you began to walk your way to follow Luke and the girl. You let out a sigh of relief when nobody noticed you walked out of the door.

As you walked down the hallway, your heart was racing as you thought to yourself, Am I really doing this!?

You were now in front of the closet's door. No turning back.

Poking your head inside the room, you deliberately took steps in a form of tiptoes, and your eyes adjusted to the dim light of the walk-in closet.

You flinched when you heard a thud, and you could hear Luke's voice yelling, "Hey!"

Your careful steps turned into frenzied brisk towards the source of the noise, and you could only stare when you saw two bodies on the floor, Jess on top of Luke, already dipping down to give him a kiss.

"I can please you tonight, let me." She said in the sultriest voice you've heard your entire life, that you were sure every man was going to give in to her advances.

Luke put his hands on Jess' shoulder, "Please get off me." but the girl just persisted, rubbing her body against Luke desperately.

She leaned closer to his ear, "I want you," She moaned as she continued grinding on him, "I'm very good in bed, I promise."

You were going to vomit at the scene happening before you.

Luke pushed her away with enough force to seperate the two of them, "Well, I don't want yo-" He was cut off when his eyes caught sight of your gaping form.

"Y/N!" He stood up and made his way over to you, eyes meeting yours in panic, "This isn't what you think it is!"

"I didn't say anything..." You choked out.

He sighed, "Y/N, it's a misunderstanding. She pinned me down, I was going to push her away, I swear." He furrowed his brows, "Wait," He noticed the unshed tears in your eyes, making his heart break, "Are you jealous?" He blinked.

You looked away, "Yes. I am. What now?" You would be surprised at your confession if not for the jealous feelings brewing inside you.

He took your hand in his, "Why?" He then rubbed comforting circles, the heat giving you comfort.

"Im in love with you, Luke." The words you held in back for so long were finally out, "I didn't want to make things awkward between us so I never told you anything." This was a huge confession, but you felt more relieved than anything, glad that you already let him know how you feel.

He was just staring at you in silence, and you hurriedly searched ideas on how to break the awkward ice, "The game is still ongoing," you glanced at Jess who's now looking dejected on the floor, "Keep playing with her."

"What if," His hand moved up to your cheek, "I wanted to play with you instead?"

"What?" your mouth gaped.

Before you could even think, he placed his other hand on your waist to pull you closer, your chests bumped, and his lips landed on your parted ones.

Warmth engulfed you, and you closed your eyes from the tingles that went up to your spine. You felt your knees buckle beneath you, you were going to fall if not for the strong arms supporting you.

Luke pulled away, "Ah," he licked his lips, "I finally got my first kiss." He whispered with a grin.

"Luke, wha-" You didn't know what to think, your long-time crush just kissed you, and you getting dizzy from the drunken feeling of the kiss doesn't help.

"Ugh!" You and Luke turned your heads to look at Jess, who's now stomping out of the room.

Luke turned his attention to you, "I'm in love with you, too."

Vyn Richter

Would realize immediately if you're being jealous

He finds it endearing that the person he likes could possibly feel the same about him?

Anyways, you two have been friends for a while now, and you would always come with him to anywhere, be it vacation, or work related outings, he would always invite you to come with him "as good friends"

Ugh, please date already

With his mysterious charms, it's inevitable that there are people who would approach vyn with romantic intentions in mind

I MEAN WHO WOULDN'T WANT THIS SEXY MEGANE, CARD READING PROFESSOR WITH A PSYCHOLOGY DEGREE

But most of the time he just turns them down

So you've never really felt jealous with anyone before because as far as you're concerned, there's nobody that close to vyn as you

Are you sure about that?

"Do you like kids, Y/N?" Vyn tilted his head to the sky, squinting his eyes at the bright light, and he felt the sunny breeze drag on his hair like a soothing caress.

You kicked a stone from the sidewalk as you strolled, "Depends," you look over at him, admiring the dispersing sunlight on his silver locks. If it's with you, then it's fine. You wanted to say out loud.

Heat rose to your cheeks at the silly thoughts and you shooed them away as you continued, "Um, some are cute, some are plain annoying," your eyes move to look at down at the stone path, "but they're not that bad I guess."

He puts a fist to cover his mouth and chuckled, the sound creating butterflies on your stomach as his voice reached your ears, "Your opinion on kids is understandable," He shook his head with a smile, "They can be quite a handful."

You were about to open your mouth to agree when your eyes caught a sign plastered in a pastel colored house, labeled Mia's daycare.

The both of you stopped in your tracks, "Is this the place?" You peeked on the windows to see silhouettes of bodies running about through the soft blue color of the curtains, "My patience is ready." you readied yourself for the chaos about to ensue.

Vyn dialled something on his phone, before putting it on his ear, "We're here." He told the person at the end of the line.

After a few moments, the door of the daycare spilled a woman out, about the same age as Vyn, her beaming grin blinding like the sunshine cascading down from the sky.

You took her appearance in, slim figure clad in a teacher uniform, blouse and skirt hugging her curves right. Her make up gives her a certain glow paired with the soft yellow rays of lights coming from above. To top it off, a cute smile.

She's gorgeous.

You stood there awkwardly as the two old friends began to acknowledge each other. An uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach.

"Vyn! It's nice to see you again." She stretched her hand out to take Vyn's and he did the same, "This is the daycare center I've been managing." Her honey-laced voice was soothing to say the least, but you felt uneasy as you eyed their connected hands, you looked away.

"It suits your style," Vyn's eyes scanned the building to observe, "This seems like the good environment for the kids, you know your stuff." He flashed her a soft smile, and you fought back the urge to frown.

Vyn approached you one day to invite you to Mia's daycare, he had told you that Mia was a close friend from when they were classmates back at the university. She needed help with making the kids not cause so much ruckus so she seeked advice from a friend that knows how to handle the kids.

She must trust Vyn so much if he's the one that came to her mind in this situation, and you recalled the soft look in Vyn's eyes as he talked about reuniting with his friend.

You felt a pang in your heart.

Mia seemed to notice your presence, her head whipping in your direction, "So you brought a companion!" Her smile seem to grew wider, she glanced briefly at Vyn, then back to you, "It's nice to meet you." She reached out her hand and you took it, giving it a squeeze, "Vyn here has told me a lot about you. Like, a lot." She winked.

"Oh," You looked away from embarassment of her implications, Vyn told her a lot about you? "Nice to meet you too." you beamed at her, your eyes meeting her welcoming ones, she seems nice.

"Come in! Makes yourselves comfortable." Mia gestured the both of you to the door, she walked over and opened it with a click.

The door opens, and from one look, you already know how chaotic this day is going to be. Some of the kids were running around and playing with each other, some were bickering. The more reserved ones however, were quietly sitting at their desks, doodling stuff. Some girls were formed in a circle talking about who knows what, some others were eating, chocolate smearing their faces.

The scent of sweets permeated the air. The sound of laughter and quarelling rang on your ears. The colorful alphabet plastered across the walls greeted you as you begin to walk inside, animal drawings that were framed reminded you so much of your childhood.

From the nostalgic feeling the daycare gives off, you already felt at ease.

Vyn's eyes flickered on your form that's looking fondly at the drawings, You were spacing out, he noted.

Of course he'd notice, he pays attention to everything that you do, after all.

He scooted beside you, his hands making it's way to the small of your back to bring your attention to the kids that were now staring at the two of you with curious eyes, "Let's introduce ourselves."

You blushed at the heat of his palm on your back, and it made you hyper-aware of his presence, "Alright."

"Chaotic, right?" Mia smiled awkwardly, but you can tell from the look in her eyes that she's fond of her students, even though they're a bunch of troublemakers.

"Teacher, who's that?" a girl in pigtails ran over and asked with enthusiasm as she stared at Vyn.

"He's so handsome!" Another girl joined in, her eyes sparkling, and because of the attention you were receiving, everyone in the class began to surround you two.

A kid wearing jumpers tugged on Mia's blouse, "Is he your boyfriend?"

You gaped at the kid. Now, where did he get that idea?

"You got it wro-" Mia started to cross her arms and shook her head in an attempt to beat the children's allegations.

"Everyone," A raven-haired boy screamed, his voice echoing throughout the walls, "Teacher Mia has a boyfriend!" He announced.

Both you and Vyn's reactions were just "???" as everyone screamed with excitement.

You shook your head as they began to bombard Vyn questions, and when you said annoying kids, this was what you meant.

You try to fight back the bubbling feelings of jealousy in your chest and focused your attention on the sweets instead, grabbing some for yourself as a distraction.

Vyn opened his mouth to speak, "Everyone, please calm down." you expected the kids to just continue with their chaos but surprisingly, they went quiet and listened to Vyn.

Huh. You blinked. His charms really works wonders even in impossible situations. Even on stubborn children.

"We're here to have fun with everyone. Do you have any games you'd like to play?" He asked in the most calming voice as possible, to calm the kids down.

"I have an idea!" the same kid that made a boyfriend announcement to the whole class shouted, "Let's play house!" He suggested, proud of himself when he heard the others squeal in agreement.

You gulped and looked at Vyn, you already have an idea of where this is going.

"Sure. You decide the roles." Vyn smiled at them, and they all looked at him with huge grins on their faces.

"You be the dad! Miss Mia will be the mom!" the same kid from before pointed at the both of them with delight.

Hearing those words, you face palmed internally. Of course, they met Vyn once and they're already shipping him with their teacher.

I mean, they do look good together... You admit. You pictured them hand in hand, taking care of the kids together.

Maybe you really should just lock your feelings away for good...

Shaking away your thoughts, you looked over to the kids and they haven't payed attention to you yet ever since you came in. You just stood there, unnoticed.

Vyn took notice of this and he spoke, "That's fine and all, but shouldn't you guys give this lovely lady here a role as well?" You felt his hands snake on your waist to pull you to his chest, the proximity making your mind short circuit and face hot, "I very much prefer if she takes the role of my wife, you know." You didn't know it was possible for red cheeks to get redder when you realized what he just meant.

The kids groaned, "No! Teacher should be your wife!" an assertive one scoffed.

"Yeah, you two would make a lovely couple!" Another one agreed.

The children began arguing how it would make so much more sense if Mia was paired with Vyn, "I'm sorry you two..." Mia sighed and shot the both of you an apologetic look.

"It's all right." You pulled away from Vyn, still in the middle of calming your racing heart, "I'll be the maid or whatever."

He chuckled and gazed at your face intently, "If you say so." With that, the three of you sat with the kids on the carpeted floor.

The game started. At first, everything was going smoothly, the kids just asked their mom and dad to feed them, as it was already lunchtime.

You were peacefully eating as well when a familiar voice reached your ears, "Mr. Vyn, please feed miss Mia!" the same boy from before pleaded.

The food that you were swallowing began to block and clot your throat from hearing those words, making you cough. Everyone turned to you because of the noises you're making, "Don't mind me!" You forced a smile.

Vyn chuckled, you don't know if it's because of the kid's suggestion or your reaction, as you hurriedly gulped water to aid yourself.

"Sure." you widened your eyes when you heard Vyn's words, "Say ahh." Vyn held Mia's chin as she opened her mouth to receive the sweet dumpling.

You looked away, suddenly the texture and colors of the floor were interesting to you. The pink pastel meshed flawlessly with the sky blue carpet, it was eye-candy.

After admiring the soft hues of the floor, you looked up to see Vyn and Mia laughing at each other's dumpling stuffed cheeks, "We look like pandas." She snickered and poked at Vyn's cheeks.

What's so funny about that? You rolled your eyes, and turned your attention back on the floor, sulking.

Unbeknowst to you, Vyn and Mia's eyes were now on your form, sharing knowing smiles.

After some time, you actually got along with the kids really well, you helped them doodle stuff and even blew bubbles for them, they weren't as condenscending as before. Maybe they were only like that earlier because they didn't want another person to be with their teacher's boyfriend.

They're that fond of their teacher, you couldn't blame them, Mia is a lovely lady.

It's actually fun playing with the kids, you try to convince yourself that you're not distracting yourself from the lovey-dovey couple in front of you, as the little students kept asking them to do coupley things.

"You know I've been thinking," a girl with a chocolate smear on her face asked, "I want to see you two kiss." She declared so nonchalantly, as if it's the most casual thing a 4 year old can say ever.

You swiftly turned your head from the source of the voice and glared at the kid, but you faltered when you saw the raw innocence gleaming in her eyes.

Just... Why? You sighed.

Kids! They're mischievous and innocent at the same time!

"I won't eat my munchies if you don't kiss!" she added with a scoff.

"That's right!" The girl beside her pouted, "As the mommy and daddy, you should kiss!"

Hearing the word kiss, all the other kids began to surround Vyn and Mia with interest.

You were panicking, you desperately looked into Vyn's eyes to tell him silently, don't. You just stared at him while flapping your arms around to signal a no.

Vyn felt your eyes on him, his golden hues flickered on yours, they glimmered with amusement when he took in your expression. You just sat there stiff, blinking.

Then he smirked, there was a playful glint visible in his orbs as he turned back to the child and nodded, "As you wish."

WHAT.

You eyes almost jumped out of your sockets and you almost choked on your food for the second time today.

Mia eyed Vyn and you didn't notice how she looked at you the same playful look Vyn had gave you earlier.

"Kiss my cheeks, then, Dr. Richter." Mia scooted closer to him, their thighs touching, and your heart broke at the thought of Vyn's soft lips pecking her cheek.

Vyn was leaning close now, the moment he pulled Mia by the shoulders, you held your breath.

Before you could even think, "Stop!" you blurted out, voice resonating inside the whole daycare. You felt like that one character in a movie where they abruptly push the doors of the cathedral to stop a wedding from happening. It was quite the sight you pulled.

Everyone turned their heads on you, and you can feel the kids' eyes burning holes in your form.

Heat rose to your cheeks in embarassment as you looked at the kids one by one, all of them glaring at you.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Vyn questioned, a smile on his lips.

"Uhh," You cleared your throat and shifted in your sitting position, "Isn't it. A bit inappropriate to kiss in front of the kids?" There's nothing inherently sexual about it, sure, but you had to come up with an excuse instead of revealing your real intentions.

"Is that really the reason? It's a harmless kiss on the cheeks." He then made his way to your side, "Don't tell me, you want to be kissed instead?"

You gulped from the pressure as everyone waited for an answer, "Yes." There's no going out of this, "You caught me..." you scratched your cheeks.

Vyn was silent for a few moments, you were starting to get unnerved and nobody was saying a thing.

"I'm so-" before you could finish, Vyn grabbed your hands onto his, the contact making your cheeks flush.

"She's actually my girlfriend now, everyone." He held your hands high, showing it to the kids, "She's your mom from now on. I won't take no as an answer." Your mind went frenzy, and your mouth gaped at his announcement, I'm his girlfriend now!?

Mia chuckled beside you two, "He's right!"

The kids looked at each other with amused expressions, then trained their eyes on you again, "Fine. She gave me tips on how to draw. I guess it's alright." a brunette crossed her arms with a pout.

"Me too," A soft voice chimed in, "She told me that board games are fun even when most of my friends say it's boring." The little kid smiled gratefully at you.

You bashfully rubbed your neck, "Thank you guys, I had fun playing with you as well. Everyone was nice." They seem to take pride in your compliment as they all huffed in agreement, some even flashed a bright, sunny grin at you.

Vyn squeezed your connected hands, "I'll make sure to shower you with kisses later, sweetheart." He ruffled your soft locks, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his words, an uncontrollable smile forming on your expression.

"I can't wait."

do not repost © lavynrose 09/11/21

#tears of themis headcanons #tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #luke pearce #luke pearce x reader #vyn richter #vyn richter x reader #xia yan #xia yan x reader #mo yi #mo yi x reader #tot headcanons #tot x reader #artem wing #marius von hagen #tot imagines #artem wing x reader #marius von hagen x reader

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

No Fun

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Everyone knows there’s no fun in friends without benefits. (Inspired by the song Friends Without Benefits by Chloe Collins) Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of male receiving oral sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello! Sorry my scheduling has been all over the place lately, as I’m sure you’re probably tired of hearing about at this point 😅 But, No Fun is finally out!! (It was also a very good way for me to ease myself back into writing after recovering from my cold alsdjflsdkjf) Also, if you don’t follow Chloe on TikTok (or any social, really) you should! She’s super sweet and writes all her songs about Criminal Minds. This one’s my favorite, though! It’s such a vibe, I hope you’ll all give it a listen! 😊❤

***

Her eyes opened of their own accord. No alarm, no ring of the cellphone, no hand on her shoulder accompanied by the voice of one of her co-workers saying they'd finally landed... She liked it that way. Not only because it meant she had that rare peace and quiet first thing in the morning—though that was definitely a perk. It also meant that she was most likely at Spencer's apartment.

In his bed.

In his shirt.

As her eyes adjusted to the golden warmth that beamed through the curtains, she stretched out her arms and legs, knowing full well that he was in the kitchen; He was always in the kitchen, ever the early bird.

Speaking of, the smell of coffee started to permeate into the bedroom, and it comforted her further as she rose into a seated position. In a matter of minutes, the coffee would be ready, and Spencer would be waiting patiently, sipping from his own cup while hers sat untouched at the spot across from him.

Normally, she would get dressed and meet him out there, but upon remembering all the delicious things that happened in that kitchen the night before, she was feeling a little devious.

So she got out of bed and removed her underwear, leaving her in just his shirt, which barely covered her ass. She was going to leave them in the bedroom, but after a split second decision, she ended up striding out into the kitchen with the garment dangling from her fingers.

"Good morning," she sang, standing in front of the kitchen counter. It covered her lower half, so the only indication of her indecent exposure took form of the fabric in her hand.

Spencer was reading something, not bothering to look up as he spoke. "Good morning. Your coffee's how you like it. I thought we could stop at the gas station on the way in to get something to eat."

"Yeah, that's fine," she responded, setting the underwear on the counter and picking up her coffee. "But I was hoping you would eat me instead."

She nonchalantly lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip as he finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes glanced down at the counter as if to say, Look...

And he did.

The seductive sparkle in his eye at the sight in front of him sent a drip of excitement into her bloodstream that rippled throughout her whole body. It always had.

That's initially what drew her to him in the first place. Yeah, it was common knowledge to anyone that Spencer was intelligent, endearing, and handsome, but it was his flirty side that really got Y/N going. It didn't come out often, if at all— unless he was drunk or with the person of his affections.

Y/N found this out when the team threw him an impromptu birthday party last year. After discovering that he hadn't reminded anyone of his thirtieth birthday, Emily immediately called Penelope back home to start planning, and she looped everyone in before they landed later that night. Y/N herself was kind of disappointed with herself for even fathoming the idea of forgetting her friend's birthday, especially since she'd known him for years and celebrated his birthday with him and their friends before.

So before the party that night, she decided to go out and get him something. Only, she couldn't find anything, and it was on her way back when everyone was wondering where she was that Y/N started to question whether or not she really deserved to be considered his friend.

It didn't stop her from putting on a happy face and celebrating his birthday to the fullest, though— She showed up and hugged him immediately, holding onto him perhaps a little too long before offering to give him anything he wanted as compensation for forgetting his birthday, and his thirtieth at that. Of course, he insisted that she didn't really have to do anything for him, but she knew that was just him being himself.

Nonetheless, the party moved along, and with pretty much everyone out of his apartment after a long night of drinking and cake and celebration, Spencer and Y/N were the only two left, buzzed and sitting a little too close.

After convincing him to let loose and have a little fun on his 'special day', Y/N had managed to get him to help her finish an entire bottle of wine. And he'd been making his way through a few beers as the sun set and the stars came out.

And then he started looking at her weird.

That was the only way she could have described it in her drunken state, but it was certainly true, if only for the fact that it wasn't a look she'd ever seen from him before. His eyes were wide, pupils blown to almost full dilation, and his tongue kept dancing behind his lips like he was tracing out some sort of invisible pattern.

When she confronted him about it, drunkenly giggling and asking why he was looking at her like that, he laughed back and flat-out told her, "Have I ever told you how pretty y'are?" And she didn't even get a chance to respond before he continued. "Y/N, you're really pretty... Like, you're the prettiest woman I-ever seen."

"You're pretty, too, y'know, birthday boy," she laughed, smiling incredibly wide. Her whole body was practically on fire, and it only got hotter when he leaned in and kissed her, hard and sloppy, and with purpose.

They went on that night, stumbling around every square inch of his apartment while mumbling drunken compliments and haphazardly throwing aside their clothes until they woke up the next morning in his bed, naked, hungover, and absolutely shocked by what had happened.

Things at work were significantly more awkward, as to be expected, but as the days went on, the more they started to catch little stolen glances and shared recovered memories of what really happened.

More specifically, Y/N couldn't stop replaying these few sentences in her head, on a loop in between flashes of hands in hair and tongues on skin...

"You said you'd give me anything I wanted, right? What if I want you?"

"Then go ahead... Have me."

...Have me...

They met up in the parking lot one day after work and simultaneously blurted out in their own words how they couldn't stop thinking about what happened and how much they wanted to do it again...

And they did.

That seductive sparkle in his eye was there when he kissed her that first night on his birthday, it was there just before they started making out in the parking lot just a week later, and it was there now as he looked down at her panties on the table and then flitted his gaze up to meet hers.

Y/N's body buzzed with a thrill as Spencer made his way around the kitchen counter and dropped to his knees as she sat on the barstool and spread her legs for him.

***

They were late for work that morning.

To make it inconspicuous, Y/N showed up ten minutes after Spencer did— maybe a little exaggerated, but it didn't raise any suspicions. It might have sucked when as soon as she walked in everyone was on their way out to go to the airstrip, Hotch with his phone in hand and ready to dial her number, but nobody suspected a thing.

Spencer threw a little smirk at her as he passed, and she resisted the urge to smack his ass out of spite.

She would have done it, too, but there were two specific rules they'd set once they decided to regularly sleep together, and one of them was that nothing could happen at work or around their friends. And regardless of how badly they wanted to steal kisses or touches at work, their arrangement meant too much to compromise. Once either rule was broken, their little friends with benefits excursion would be immediately void.

Unfortunately, after a flight that was absolutely laced with their sexual tension and once they'd landed in Minnesota for this latest case, they both shared a look that practically set in stone the undeniable, inevitable truth.

They were obsessed.

The whole ordeal was incredibly exhilarating, already an inevitable outcome when it came to regularly sleeping with a co-worker, but what they weren't counting on was just how thrilling it was. Almost a year into their extracurricular activities and they were spending just about every free moment attached by mouths and hands and limbs. And as time progressed it became increasingly more difficult to keep to themselves, needing to be in proximity to one another constantly.

That's not to say they weren't excellent at handling it, though.

Sure, the burning in their veins at the sight of one another after knowing what it was like to be intimate was excruciating, and being paired together on cases knowing that they couldn't break any rules had them feeling like they were going to drown... But the pay-off after a long period of time with no physical contact was absolutely worth it.

All the secrecy and the holding back made it that much explosive when they finally got a decent moment alone.

Right now they were on their way back from a week-long case in Georgia.

And maybe it was fucked up, but once the team realized it was going to be rather grueling, the first thing Y/N thought was how better her stress relief was going to be when they finally finished. The second she thought it, she briefly glanced over at Spencer and saw that he had the same look on his face.

Even during the jet ride home, they were sitting on opposite sides while everyone slept around them, staring at each other and only breaking eye contact when someone rustled in their sleep.

Grueling images of the things they'd seen in the past week danced between them alongside flashes of all the things they wanted to do to each other as compensation. They heard faint screams and gunshots muffled by the high moans and shouts of each others' names, heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin...

The only word that sat between them as they clamored into Spencer's car and drove off was, "Drive."

It was late. They were exhausted and alert all at the same time. Their bodies were practically on fire. Y/N's leg bounced rapidly as Spencer's fingers tapped the steering wheel with fervor and impatience. And when he knew there would be no one around to pull them over for speeding, he stepped on the gas harder, and their heartbeats picked up right alongside their speed.

Even the walk up to his apartment was laced with impatience, Y/N's leg still bouncing as Spencer unlocked the door.

They rushed through it the second there was a tiny sliver of light from the dim nightlight she knew he kept in the entryway.

And then it was beautiful, heavenly chaos.

The door slammed loudly as Spencer leaned his whole body weight against Y/N, sending her flying towards it. They were drawn together like a magnet to a fridge, a moth to a flame, days of pent-up frustration and tension beginning its firework show right there in his entryway as their mouths clashed together.

No amount of contact was good enough it seemed, because it was just constant movement. Their hands wandered and their bodies pressed into each other continuously as they kissed the breath out of each other. Even still, they continued all the way to his bedroom, grunting while bumping into furniture and walls and doorways, but never daring to separate an inch all the same.

"God, I needed you," Spencer whispered once his bedroom door was shut. His hands tugged at her shirt and tried to get the buttons done as he continued. "All fucking week, you were just right there and I couldn't touch you..."

Y/N pressed her mouth to his and started hastily unbuttoning his shirt as well. After a few seconds, he pulled his mouth away and started to speak again, his fingers still trying to get her shirt undone. "I need it bad..."

With a frustrated grunt, Y/N pulled him in closer by the collar of his shirt and hissed into his mouth, "Then shut up and fucking take it..."

Her words kicked him in the ass and shot him forward, sending them flying towards the door once again. She yelped at the sharp pain that came and went as her back hit the wood, but with Spencer's hands finally tearing open her shirt and settling on her bare waist as he practically shoved his tongue down her throat, she couldn't complain.

Both of their shirts came off, and as soon as they hit the floor her hands went to his hair. She tugged on the wavy locks, a soft moan escaping her as he dipped his hands under the back of her bra and worked the clasp. It came off quickly, as it always did, and once it hit the floor he leaned down and gave her breasts all his attention. His tongue swirled around her nipples one my one, littering her skin with kisses in between and reveling in the way she kept tugging on his hair each time he gently tugged a nipple with his teeth.

Eventually, they both couldn't take any more, Y/N pushing his head down while tugging down her slacks and Spencer being glad she did, using his hands to assist her.

Having known for about a year now how heavenly his mouth was when it worked at her wasn't even a fair warning for the intensity of the shudders that soared through her body when his lips made contact with her clit just then. She let out a loud, broken cry of relaxation and relief and pure ecstasy as he practically devoured her.

His tongue was gliding through her with ease, ravening groans erupting from his throat and sending more sharp waves of excitement through Y/N's bloodstream with every passing second. His ministrations were quick and greedy, sloppy yet precise. And when he added his fingers to the mix, she gripped his hair tight and cried out his name, tensing at the sweet, burning stretch they provided.

That only drove him more wild, his tongue flicking over her clit faster while his fingers pumped, curled, and dragged languidly inside of her. He worked to pull every ounce of pleasure from her body, all while squeezing his eyes shut and losing himself in the taste of her, the way her thighs lightly trembled over his face and the desperate clutches of her fingers in his hair...

He wanted all of it. All of her.

He also wanted to hear that sound she made when he was helping her through the peak of her orgasm— a high, dreamy cry that boiled his insides and turned him into an animal.

And there it was, with just three more quick pumps of his fingers. It started off soft, though he knew the second he sucked on her clit and grazed her g-spot with his fingers it would careen higher and louder, right into that perfect pitch that he wished he could hear for eternity. Her thighs shook almost violently around his head, her fingers clawing at his scalp so tight that he felt little pinpricks of pleasure run down the back of his head and through his neck.

Y/N came down soon after, her voice resorting to small whimpers and pants as she tried to push his head away. But it wasn't until she actually tugged his hair up that Spencer finally retreated and got up off the floor.

"I thought you wanted me to take it?" he panted, already missing the warmth of her legs over his face.

She reached down and started toying with his belt, pulling him closer by the leather and throwing him a smirk. "Yeah, but now I wanna take it."

Before she could sink to her knees, though, he stopped her, walking her towards the bed and sitting her down as he finished taking off his pants. "Another time... Right now I need to be inside of you."

The urgency dripping in his voice and through his movements made Y/N burn all over again, and really, who was she to argue? Yeah, maybe she wanted to suck the living soul out of him, but his eagerness to get to the main event gave her the opportunity to treat him tomorrow morning. Spencer was always hard in the morning (at least on the rare occasion that she'd wake up before he did), and the thought of his sleepy groans and whines as she slowly worked his cock with her mouth was more than enough to keep her satisfied until then.

It also made her incredibly wet and ready, which was convenient when he climbed over her and bent her legs back, leaning forward and sinking into her in no time at all.

The sounds that came out of their mouths right then were exceedingly pornographic. It had been too long since their last sexual encounter, and even though they'd been at it plenty of times before, it still felt as intense and fresh as the first few times.

As aforementioned, they were obsessed.

Their song and dance of skink on skin never got old. Time and time again, it was like they'd never touched before, every feeling so intense it was like they were on the top of a rollercoaster that just kept falling and falling with no end in sight.

Every time he snapped his hips forward and and stretched her wide, her insides crumbled apart and gave way to his storm. She embraced his using of her body for pleasure, and he gave her the best orgasms in turn.

As of right now, she was caught between wanting to look down between their bodies to watch him fuck her and laying back to let it happen— take it all in that way and lose herself in the moment.

Though, she settled on the former, just as she always did, because watching Spencer fuck her was always the more exciting option. Especially when he was as urgent as he was now.

She watched with her bottom lip out in a pout as he fucked her, taking notice of how his hands looked gripping her waist and how his stomach tensed with every movement. Her eyes wandered over the planes of his body, and then finally his face. Usually he'd be so focused on the task at hand that his eyes would barely be open, taking in every ounce of pleasure that he possibly could, and that was exactly the case here. Fluttering eyes, pouty lips, flushed face, hair damp and wild as ever...

It drove her half mad.

"Harder," she demanded, reaching out and pulling him closer by the ass.

Spencer was more than happy to comply, a satisfied huff of laughter coming from him as he leaned down and sharpened his movements. His hips were heavier, pinning Y/N down into the mattress with every thrust forward, consequently drawing a little whimper from her each time.

To take it a step further and complete her request, he leaned back a little and pushed her legs open and wide, spreading her further and pinning her down that way to give his hips more driving force.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them lasted long after that.

Y/N shouted his name into the air, leaning her head back as her body tensed and gave in to his force. And he fucked her through it, his grunts gradually getting louder until his hips pushed into hers one final time, at which point he leaned down and put more of his weight on top of her.

As he filled her with his release, she sighed out, clenching herself around him and reveling in his warmth. Whether it was the warmth inside of her or the warmth he provided by blanketing her body with his own, she was glad for its presence. There was nothing else she'd rather have felt after a hard week at work—or any hard feat, really—than Spencer.

He retracted his warmth once they'd settled, however, removing himself from the bed on shaky limbs to grab wipes on the other side of the room.

And of course, Y/N admired him the whole way, flashing him a devilish wink when he inevitably caught her staring.

***

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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years

Note

how the evans would act when they have a crush on u ^^

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Award for the longest title goes tooooo... me!

JAMES SUCKS BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY DOING BOTH KYLE’S AND A DETAILED KIT

Two other requests-

Could I please request how the Evans would react to their best friend (reader) admitting they're in love with them?

Heyo! I’m not sure how this would go but how would the Evan’s react to a nervous/insecure reader confessing to them?

-I hope this is satisfactory, even though I don’t think it’s what you two wanted<3

Enjoy! :)

Tate

-Would always just be interested in you

-Wanting to help you, watch you, talk to you, just constantly be around you

-But he’d also be insecure whether he was annoying you, so occasionally he would make himself invisible and just watch you

-Whatever hobbies you had, he’d love to watch you do them, paint, draw, write, play games

-If you played any instrument he would love to lay on your bed and listen to you, no matter how good or bad you were

-He would leave little sweet messages on the chalkboard and leave little post-it notes for you to find

-They would have fun little facts about birds or other trivial stuff but you would find them cute

-The occasional fact about something romantic, like ‘Every time you kiss somebody, your heart beat increases by 10-15 beats per minute’

-He might go a little far and leave a message like ‘Your dress looked pretty’, which you would find creepy since you didn’t know Tate was a ghost

Kit

-He thought of ways to tell you how he felt but because it seemed like your family was gonna live in the murder house for a while, cause you were all settling in well, he didn’t want to risk losing his friendship with you, since you were the only ghost with whom he really got along

-You walked down to the basement and said his name in a sing song voice, “Tateeeee”, “Come out come out wherever you are!”

-He showed up and you asked him if he wanted to go out on a real date

-He was obviously nervous, because you didn’t know yet that he was a ghost, but when he hesitated and you looked upset, he said yes right away

-You ran up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush and laugh, and whilst you were at school, he got some things ready and got candles and a table cover so make your kitchen look like a restaurant

-He ordered McDonalds delivery and got your chicken nuggets under a serving platter for effect

- “We are dining on, nuggets of the chicken”

-Although you were a little disappointed and wanted to go out on a real date with him, you found his effort cute

-He definitely played footsie with you under the table the whole date

-Definitely walked you to your room

- “Well… this is me…”

- “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe”

-Kissed you

oh my god I got so carried away

-You would first meet Kit when you first come and move to Massachusetts

-One day you want to venture out and get an taxi to go to town, only a few minutes later to realise you don’t have your wallet

-You awkwardly tell the driver that if takes you back home quickly, you can get money and you will pay him right away

-But since Boston men aren’t usually so sweet, he just kicks you out, leaving you to wander the motorway alone late at night, far away from your home and hoping to quickly find somewhere to go

-Eventually you stumble upon a gas station, and as you walk up, a hand appearing on your shoulder makes you automatically turn around and push whoever touched you to the ground

-The man in blue uniform gets up slowly with his hands up defensively, “Hey hey, didn’t mean to startle ya, miss”

-You apologise, feeling stupid for this kind of encounter, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as you’d think

- “It’s always nice to see a woman able to protect herself”, he smiles

-He offers to drive you home, and you thank him dearly, explaining to him that you don’t have a car yet, having only just moved here

-He offers to take you to buy one, knowing an awful lot about cars, and to convince you further, tells you that any man working in a car salon will try to sell a single lady a piece of junk for a high price

-You agree, thinking that the offer is sweet, and he takes you to buy yourself a car, to make the date even more fun, Kit tells you to pretend you’re an old married couple

- “Miss Walka over here needs a car, good Sir”

-At some point while looking at cars, Kit holds your hand and you don’t even notice

-He negotiates a good deal with the salesman, and you get a car together

- “Your husband just got you an awfully good deal, Madam, he’s a man who deserves a good meal and a cold beer if I’ve ever seen one”, the salesman laughs, signing the last of the papers before handing Kit the keys to your car. “Oh, he’ll get more than that”, you say to tease Kit, before smiling at him sweetly. Kit blinks at you, before turning back to the salesman and shaking his hand. As the two of you walk away, Kit looks at you in disbelief, the thought of your dirty words clearly plastered in his mind. “Did ya mean what you said back there?”. He says, as he opens the car door for you. “Whatever do you mean?”, you act stupid. “I was just pretending to be your wife, Mr Walka”

-When he has a crush on you, he gives you sooo many compliments

-Little dirty innuendos

-Would definitely call you and talk to you late night on the phone until one of you fell asleep (house phone if they had them)

-He’s the kind of person to tell you that he got a visit from a cute dog earlier at the gas station and it made him think of you

Kyle

-Every time you go to get gas from Kit, he gives you only a little amount, so you have a reason to keep coming back

-One time when you go get gas from him, you forget your wallet again, and he teases you about it

-He lets you off and pays for your gas

- “I owe you, Mr Walka”

- “How about a date?”

-You smile at how confident he is, and nod excitedly, having been waiting for him to ask you for a while now

-Kit winks at you and waves as you drive off, completely melted inside about finally getting his girl

-Even though he’s always confident, he’s still a little shy and awkward around you when he sees you in class

-If all of his friends are in a class messing around, throwing stuff, being loud, and you walk it, he tells everybody to shut up because there’s a lady present

- “Hey careful, make sure you don’t throw it at her”

-It’s not until he sees you at a huge party, that he’s confident enough to go up to you

-Even though he’s more than happy to flirt, he’s just not confident enough to do that last step and ask you out somewhere

-He’ll bring you a drink and talk and flirt with you, and you’ll definitely get the hint

-He slowly lifts his arm up and stretches it over you, trying to do the classic yawn move, hoping you won’t notice or mind. You look over at him and narrow your eyes in fake suspicion.

- “Didn’t you come here with a movie star? Surely you get handsome men bringing you drinks all the time?”, he says, motioning to the drink in your hand.

“You calling yourself handsome?”, you tease him. Kyle laughs a breathy awkward laugh and nods. “Well yeah”

-When you do ask him for a date, he insists that he take the initiative to plan what you two do

-Clearly wanting to make a good first impression, he’d take you somewhere interesting

-Aquarium, in which he’ll make up clearly fake facts about the fish just to make you laugh

-Bowling, just so he can tease you about how much you suck

-Mini golf, so, even though you know how to play, he can wrap his arms around you and help you put

-And if he does take you to the movies, you aren’t spending a dime

-He’ll also wrap his arm around you not-so subtly

Franken Kyle

“Whatcha doin there, hm?”. Kyle leans into your ear and whispers.

“Just in case you get scared, you can cuddle up to me”

“Kyle we’re watching the Lego movie”

Jimmy

-You’re a witch at the academy, and with Kyle’s very slow progress to getting better, both Zoe and Madison are getting slightly tired of having to constantly take care of him

-But you don’t mind, finding his Frankenstein state cute

-Whenever he stumbles into the kitchen by himself you always help him make food

-If he’s ever struggling with anything, he usually comes to you, knowing you’re the most patient out of them all

-Then, one night, all the teens in the academy go to a party, while you lay in bed

-But when the rain starts to get really heavy and the first thunder growls, Kyle rushes into your room, before slowly knowing and peaking his head out, clearly scared

-You let him come and lay with you, rubbing his back to calm him down

-Although no real words are spoken, it’s from that moment that you decide to take on all responsibilities relating to Kyle, the good and the bad

-He’s admired you from afar for a very long time, ever since the first time you joined the circus

-You were incredibly flexible, and always showing off to everyone and practicing on stage

-He would always come and watch you practice, cheering you on more than anybody else

-You called Jimmy ‘my cheerleader’

-It made him blush every time

-Amazon Eve always told him to just ask you for dinner, but the only thing that stopped him was the thought that you wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a freak like him, especially since your body looked so normal that you didn’t have to hide anything

-Eve and Paul reminded Jimmy that it’s him who’s always the most confident in going out into the real world, and he mustn’t be scared

-When they all plan to go to a diner together, as a protest to being shunned from society, you find his leadership charming and happily go with them

-Even though you all get kicked out, you calm Jimmy down and take care of him when his dad beats him up

James

-You wipe the scars on his face and tell him how brave you think he is

- Trying to gain confidence, you take a deep breath before making the move. “Maybe the two of us should go to that diner”. Jimmy looks up at you, as if he expects you to keep talking. When the nerves hit you all at once, you begin rambling. “You know cause if the two of us go and they’re okay with that then maybe we can start going with the others one by one, and then you know we’ll ease our way back into society and stuff”. You laugh a breathy laugh, but Jimmy says nothing. With every silent second passing, your heart begins to break. But luckily for you, Jimmy speaks up. “Wait, are you asking me out? Like… on a date? To the diner?”. “What if I were?”, you quietly reply. He smiles wide and pulls you closer to him, “I’d love that”.

-James is definitely the least subtle

-Constantly giving you compliments, kisses and gifts

-Opening every door for you and listening very carefully to everything you say

-He doesn’t want you to even think about another man, so he overwhelms you with every way he can show you he likes you

-I can imagine him organising a big ball or event at the hotel just so the two of you can dress up and go together

-He is also the most confident out of them all, although he is a softie around you, he has no trouble asking you anything he wants to you

-He’ll kiss your hand a lot and you’ll eventually get the hint

Kai

- “I would be most delighted if we were to make our relationship more official, and vow fully loyalty to one another”

-You agree and he is over the moon

-Once the two of you are in a relationship, the compliments, kisses and gifts don’t stop

-He will give you your space without him, but when the two of you are in the same room together, he treats your precious time together as if it’s sacred

-He will approximately 43 seconds into your relationship begin planning how he’s gonna kill you

-You can tell Kai likes you when he’s harsher on you than he is on other members of the cult

-He’ll be pissed at you for being a distraction for him

-He’ll definitely tell you when he’s impressed with you, when you murdered somebody or helped him plan something

-Even though he definitely would not want it

-If you proved to be smarter than him in any aspect, he’d be furious

-You’d be sat on his sofa while he’s talking to you about having to kill Sally because she’s getting in the way of him winning city council

- “Samuels looked at where she lives, and it has no back doors, no nothing, it’ll be impossible to get in her house without smashing windows and causing attention”

“Why don’t you get Ally to go to her first? If Meadow convinces her to go to Sally to talk about the cult, then the front door will be open”. Kai looks at you with angry eyebrows. “We’ll sit in the car and wait for a few seconds, she’ll let Ally in, won’t lock the door straight after her, and then let them talk for a minute before we just walk right in”

-His ego won’t let him take suggestions from somebody below him, so even though he wants to be proud of you for being smart, he’s mad

-He’ll sit for hooours trying to think of any other solution he physically can think of, to not go with what you suggested

-Around the cult, he’d treat you like everybody else though

- “Y/N’s idea was brilliant, Ally just walked in and they walked straight to sit down, she didn’t lock the door”

-He’d praise you to encourage you to think of ideas, which he would later be mad that you have

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

-You’d find out how he felt about you during pinky power

-After being suspicious that he may have feelings for you for a while, you realised this is the only way to truly find out how he feels without him trying to manipulate you

-He’d ask you about something deep, and you’d latch on after he finishes a sentence to ask him your question

- “I have a question for you”

“Go ahead”

“How do you feel about me?”

Kai stays silent and continues to look you in the eye, taken aback by the question but not wanting to show it.

“When you’re with me, how do you feel?”

“I think you have real potential, you’re strong-”

“I’m not asking the Divine Ruler, I’m asking Kai, Kai Anderson”

He takes a deep breath before unintentionally breaking eye contact for a few seconds to think. You wait anxiously for the answer, and with every second passing you know what it will be.

“You’re special”, he starts, looking you in the eye again. “You’re valuable to the group, and to me. And I think you’d be a great… mother”. The last catches you off guard, not expecting Kai to be a family man or to think about this with you.

“You… you want me to… have your children?”

“I think our children would be indestructible, strong, powerful, decisive. They would be the seed of the better future”. Although it was a little forward for somebody you’ve never even kissed, you were beyond flattered, knowing how specific Kai is with traits in people.

“Let’s make a baby”, Kai says.

“Whoa whoa”, you laugh and unlink your pinky with his. “We’re not even dating, Kai”

“Why date if children is the ultimate purpose?”

“Then don’t look at is as dating… look at it… as getting to know the mother of your future children”

-Kai would love this and you’d soon end up dating

-And have like 6 kids

@milly-louise @amourtentiaa @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @thxc0untessesgl0ve @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt @blackbat2020@elaineygrace @kaiandersonskoolaid @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

As usual, if you wanted to be added or taken away, dm me or comment!! I won’t mind! <3

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

Body Shots (Pierre Gasly)

Inspired by (and beta read) by the amazing @limp-wrist-max thank you Mea!

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Recommended song: “Lucky You” by Sim Dane

Vacationing in Milan had its perks. Fine dining, luxury stores that were prime for window shopping, and the proximity to your best friend, to name a few.

When you'd touched down in Milan you had had no intentions of visiting Pierre. You had just finished your exams for your summer class and had a week before the next semester started up, so you had simply booked the cheapest ticket and boarded a plane.

The intent had been to have some good wine, good food and unwind. Pierre saw your Instagram story minutes after you posted it and recognized the bakery you stopped at for lunch. And once he found out you were only a few minutes away from that weekend's grand prix, he had ideas that didn't involve you reading a novel all day.

Pierre had insisted that a last minute cancelation by a family friend had left a paddock pass unclaimed and had suggested you take it.

"You're my best friend, it'll be fun to have you experience a weekend through my eyes for once instead of sitting in the stands. Come visit me."

Something in the inflection of his voice made the simple request rub you raw. He missed you. It had been months since your last get together and you couldn't blame him. The last year had been rough for him and he rarely had anyone physically at his side to help him through it.

Inviting you instead of one of his parents was about more than your current proximity to the track. He hadn't missed a beat in asking you, not hesitating to consider anyone else being with him this weekend.

Your stomach had turned as you climbed in a cab Sunday morning, not out of fear of something going wrong but because of the nagging feeling that something was about to change.

You'd known Pierre since you were kids. Your brother had raced in karting before pursuing another dream, but in the few short years you'd hung around European tracks you had managed to forge a bond with one of your brother's rivals. That friendship carried on regardless of the distance that separated you, kept alive by visits in the off season and once a year trips to the racetrack at Silverstone.

Pierre met you at the gates and you had barely seen him since.

A decent qualifying session saw the Frenchman start P10 on Sunday's race. He didn't hide the fact that he was disappointed, but come time for his final meeting with the team you'd never guess he was anything but ecstatic.

You had to be conscious about your mouth hanging open when Pierre stepped into the garage in his fireproofs with his suit half undone. The tuft of blond hair peeking through his backwards cap floats on an invisible breeze and he bounces on his toes. His brow furrows when he is handed a data sheet, listening intently to what the engineer points out.

Butterflies riot in your stomach when Pierre catches you staring and winks. You pray he writes the blush on your cheeks off as the heat and he must, because he raises his eyebrows and flexes a bit.

You laugh to cover the way you want to do nothing but strip him out of that tight fitted white shirt. Your crush was getting out of hand. Pierre's shameless, friendly flirting only escalated matters.

You told yourself it was nothing. He was like this with every girl he met, making a fool of himself to earn a laugh. You were no different, except maybe that you were a constant where most other women only got to enjoy his playful personality for a short time.

You're treated to a few long minutes of watching Pierre prep to climb into the car before he's heading out on track to line up at the grid.

The race starts off fine, Pierre's pace is better than expected. One of the Haas's breaks down at the pit entry and Pierre's strategist decides to bring him in for a fresh set of tires. A kiss seems like the proper reward for their stroke of brilliance, which affords Pierre the advantage when the pits close soon after.

Restarting on lap 28 is nail biting. Hamilton, Stroll, and Pierre make up the podium places. The entire garage gasps when Stroll goes wide at turn four. Hamilton serves his penalty and Pierre inherits the lead. Sainz jumps on the opportunity to attack.

Pierre defends brilliantly until the final lap. The team erupts when he crosses the line first, bringing home the win.

Red, white and green confetti sticks to his skin as he sprays the champagne over all of you. In the heat of it all, Pierre sits on that top step and shakes his head. You already know that the photos of him being snapped from all angles will be gorgeous, the sun shining down on the first French grand prix winner in decades.

A legend in the minds of his people and in yours.

You could scarcely believe it yourself. Your best friend had finally, after years of being pushed down, won a grand prix at the temple of speed. Red Bull had been wrong, just as you'd insisted when Pierre cried over losing his seat and his friend in one weekend. But god, did Pierre rise above it all.

Pierre catches your gaze just before he leaves the podium. A lifetime of emotion swirls around him like an enigma, begging you to find out what it was hiding. Your wave is barely more than a lift of your hand but Pierre notes it nonetheless, tipping his trophy in your direction.

You wait patiently on the sidelines as Pierre poses for pictures with his team on and off the track. His attention constantly falls on you, his grin widening each time he sees you tucked under the arm of an enthusiastic mechanic or crew member. Alpha Tauri was a family and you were an honorary member thanks to your connection to their driver.

An action packed hour of cameras passes before Pierre is able to break away. As soon as he's given the go ahead he passes his trophy off and marching to you. You're both practically running by the time you meet in the middle. You crash into him and he lifts you off your feet in a crushing hug.

"You did it," you whisper, overwhelmed by his success now that you've gotten the chance to celebrate with him. "I'm so proud of you."

Pierre laughs as he sets you on your feet. His smile is wider than you've ever seen it and you're sure his cheeks must be sore.

"Wish they allowed us to bring a friend up there," Pierre says softly, a smile melting into a sly smirk. "Seeing you doused in champagne is an image I wouldn't forget."

You shake your head, caught up in his ceaseless flirting. He had no idea that his honeyed words and gentle touches lit something inside of you, rattling your brain and making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Instead you snatch the black and gold Pirelli cap off his head and place it on your own, earning you a peal of laughter.

"Looks better on you anyway." Pierre runs a hand through his sweaty, champagne doused hair, leaving bits sticking up at odd angles.

Someone calls Pierre's name, far enough away that there's no rush. Pierre's hands remain planted on your waist and yours stay wrapped around his neck. By the way his bright blue eyes bore into yours, you swear he's thinking the same thing you are.

"Thank you for believing in me," he murmurs, gaze falling to your lips.

"I knew it was just a matter of time," you tell him, inching up on your tiptoes. Tempted by his win, you want to ruin the best friendship you've ever had. You want to discover if the lips you spend far too much time dreaming about felt as soft as they looked. You want to know how it feels to be lost in Pierre, newly minted race winner, and find out just how he dealt with the adrenaline and euphoria of his incredible drive.

"Well done mate!"

Max Verstappen startles the two of you apart. You take a healthy step back and drop your gaze to the ground to hide your burning cheeks.

"Thanks." Pierre accepts the Dutchman's embrace and claps him on the back. "Sucks I didn't get to fight you for it."

"There will be more chances in the future. And I didn't expect to see you here, that's a nice surprise." Max knocks you with his shoulder, tipping you off balance. On instinct you latch onto Pierre's arm to steady yourself. You wait a heartbeat too long to remove your hand and both of you find anywhere to look but each other.

"So where's the party?" You ask, searching for a distraction from the way your palm still burns.

"Definitely not at Red Bull." Max shudders and you laugh because that's what you do when someone is being over dramatic. It rings hollow in your ears.

"I hear there's a few guys with adjoining rooms at the hotel who bought plenty of booze," Pierre says. "You and Dan wanna come by?"

"Is that really a question?" Max grins, already typing out a text as Pierre feeds him the details.

**********

"You should do body shots," Max suggests, which earns a roaring laugh from Daniel and a half hearted one from Pierre.

"I don't think so," Pierre says, "there's no one here I trust enough to let that happen."

"Not even your best friend?" Max gestures to you and shoots you a wink when Pierre glances over. "I think she's trustworthy."

"No thanks." Pierre holds up his plastic cup and salutes Max before draining it to the dregs.

Pierre's immediate refusal hurt more than it probably should have. You hadn't expected him to jump at the offer but having him shut the idea down so thoroughly hadn't been what you wanted either.

Max notes your pouty lower lip and speaks on your behalf. "Come on mate," Max insists. "You just won your first prix, live a little! It's not like you've got anything to lose, she's your best friend."

"That's exactly why-"

"Shut up, it would be fun! Wouldn't it?" Max says this last bit to you, a wild grin on his face.

Max expects you to turn red and object. That was his end goal. But what the Dutchman hadn't counted on was how drunk you already were on Pierre. On his smile. On his bright blue eyes, swirling in the aftermath of his unlikely triumph. And mostly on the not-so-sneaky way he glances at you every few minutes.

"Let's do it."

Pierre blinks, searching your face for any sign of distress. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" You shrug, suddenly fearing that you'd read him wrong and he really was against this whole thing. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Get the vodka," Pierre interrupts, nodding to Max though his stare remains pinned on you. Pierre latches onto your wrist and drags you around the room until he finds a table long and sturdy enough for his liking.

"This a good height for you?"

The coffee table is low enough that you'd have to kneel. Luckily getting on your knees isn't something you'd mind doing for Pierre. You lick your lips without thinking. Pierre's pupils blow wide, black swallowing the swirling oceans of blue.

"Sure," is all you manage.

"Good." Apparently neither of you were able to focus on speech. You work together to clear the empty plastic cups and used napkins from the surface. Your hands brush when you both reach for the last cup and you just catch the way Pierre's breath hitches.

You and Pierre have danced this dance since you were teenagers. Each of you knows the steps by heart. The only difference is tonight neither of you were poised to bow out before the final lift.

"Beep beep, bitches!" You yank your hand away when Max's shout reaches you. Pierre's hand lingers in front of him, outstretched as if your palm remained grazing his thumb.

Max holds the bottle of vodka over his head as he wades through the crowd. "You're all about to be very, very entertained."

"Where's your chaperone?" You ask Max, searching for Daniel in the low lighting. You press your palm to your thigh, dissipating Pierre's lingering heat.

The Dutchman waves you off. "Went to get us more drinks. Pierre, isn't it kinda hard to do body shots if you're still fully clothed?"

"Who says I'm the one getting undressed?"

Max's grin dimples his flushed cheeks. "I mean you can ask her to take her shirt off in front of all these people if you want to."

"No," Pierre responds quickly. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Pierre strips off his shirt he gets more than a few whistles from men and women alike. That tended to happen when someone was built like a Greek fucking god, you supposed. Whoever voted for People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" and decided on Michael B. Jordan had clearly never laid eyes on Pierre, with his bronzed skin, endless expanses of muscle, and brilliant cheshire grin.

Michael B. Jordan who?

Pierre hands the team branded shirt off and lays out on the table. He pillows an arm under his head, bare bicep flexed as he gets comfortable. Leaning in to kiss along the hard muscle was out of the question, however tempting it was.

Pierre looks up expectantly. "You coming?"

Holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You sink to your knees and Pierre laughs.

"Up here." He pats his thigh with his free hand and beacons you forward. "Please."

Screw it, you've already thrown your friendship out the window. This night ended either in heartbreak or awkwardness, might as well get your money's worth.

A few whoops break out above the music. The bassline isn't the only thing thundering in your chest as you straddle Pierre's thighs, hands braced on his chest.

"Okay?" Pierre whispers for your ears only. You nod with what you hope is a charming smile.

"Alright move," Max says, shooing you back until you're resting on your haunches. Max flicks the cap off the bottle and you grab it to take a long sip.

Max gapes at you and you wipe a hand over your mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

Pierre's thighs tense beneath you in response to your bold declaration. Dozens of Pierre's friends and team members gather around. For all you care, Pierre is the only person in the room.

"Last chance to back out," Max warns. You're too busy tracking the drop of liquid that falls from the neck of the bottle to splash onto the crease of Pierre's abs to bother responding.

"Pour it out." Pierre's chest sinks with his demand, doing nothing but sparking your imagination, creating images of him heaving beneath you. You'd sell your soul to recreate the way you're currently poised above Pierre's hips with a little less clothing and no audience.

Max gives up hope on you replying and dribbles the alcohol up Pierre's abdomen, stopping just below his pecks.

"Have at 'er-"

Your tongue is on Pierre's skin before Max has finished his sentence. You feel the muscle tense beneath your tongue, going rigid at the first contact. The burn of the vodka doesn't even register as you lap it up, catching the drips that fall over his sides.

You aren't sure either of you is breathing. Salty sweat mingles with the sharpness of the alcohol, an afterthought barely worth mentioning.

Blame the liquid courage or blame the high from Pierre's win, but you were confident Pierre was enjoying this just as much as you.

Planting a hand on Pierre's hip, you steal a glance up at him to find him locked on you. You take that as permission to continue, dragging your tongue flat up his stomach and continuing well past where the vodka had been poured. Up between his pecks, over the curve of his throat that bobs beneath your tongue, over his chin until you meet his lips, already parted and waiting.

Neither of you pay the shouts cresting around you any heed. You've both waited too long for this, endured too many almosts and what ifs to let the opportunity slip through your fingers. Your sticky hands cradle Pierre's face, angling it in a way that's to your liking so you can explore more of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and mint, the juxtaposition of hot and cold scattering your thoughts. One of Pierre's hands finds the nape of your neck when you gasp for air, refusing to let you end the moment.

And it's pure, unending bliss that floods your veins when he nips at your lower lip, swollen and surely reddened from his kiss. His thumb sweeps across the back of your neck while you both fight to catch the breath currently evading you.

Daydreams didn't hold a candle to the real thing. One taste and you were addicted, craving as much as Pierre was willing to give.

"Hey," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a stupidly gorgeous smile.

"That was nice," you tease, tangling your fingers in the silky blond strands of his hair. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again."

"Me too. Maybe somewhere where it's just us though. I wouldn't want to scandalize my team any further." You manage to steal another sweet peck before Max hauls you off Pierre.

"Fucking finally," Daniel says, clapping when you're upright again. "Do you know how long I've been trying to orchestrate this? The two of you really are dumber than a box of rocks. I can't believe all it took was Max suggesting body shots to get you two to kiss."

The arm that wraps around your waist feels right. Pierre hasn't hugged you like this before, with his chin resting on your shoulder and his nose nuzzling your neck, but it already feels like home.

Pierre ignores Max completely in favor of pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. "Why don't we go back to my room? I'll pour more alcohol on myself if that's what it takes to convince you."

You're just about to take him up on the offer when one of his team members taps his shoulder. He glances at them impatiently, which the man thankfully doesn't take personally.

"They want some photos with you holding your trophy," he explains, handing a shirt and the star shaped interpretation of the Italian flag to Pierre. "It will only take a few minutes, they promised not to keep you long."

Of course everyone knew exactly where your minds were. Sanity had long since left the premises, tangled up in crisp white sheets. Pierre's entire team and half the Red Bull garage had seen what had gone down while the prix winner was sprawled on that coffee table. There would be no chance of denying it in the morning.

And while you'd never imagined that the first time you'd kiss your best friend would be directly preceded by licking copious amounts of shitty liquor off his super-heated skin, now that you'd experienced it any other way seems forgettable.

Pierre sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, I already have my trophy, but…" your stomach lurches when you realize he means you. Pierre catches the way your mouth hangs open and he shoots you a grin before accepting the real trophy.

"You carry it," he says, not giving you much of a choice as he thrusts it into your hands. "I'm occupied."

You're about to point out that his hands are, in fact, free and that the more likely reason for insisting you carry the trophy was his usual post-race laziness when he slings an arm around your shoulders and tucks you tight to his side.

"Is this okay?" Pierre asks when you involuntarily stiffen. God, it was more than okay, it was perfect, it had just caught you by surprise. You'd only kissed him a handful of minutes ago and Pierre was already wrapped around your finger, smitten as if you'd been a couple for years.

"Yeah no, it's perfect. Simply lovely," you say quickly, stumbling over your words.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Your answer comes in the form of a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You prop the trophy on your hip and smile up at your race winner.

"You don't have to ask that ever again. My answer is always yes."

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