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#every time i talk to them im lying them in the face about something they already know to not make them upset

criminalamnesia · 2 months

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HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

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ywuji · 1 month

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Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his.

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

#ywuji #this is so long n so rambly HAHEHW #i rlly had fun writing this tho #i wld love to write more :00 #the last part is For Sure tacked onto the end but i wanted to include it bc i talked abt it alr Lol #apologies U_U #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro smut #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi headcanons #fushiguro headcanons #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ssparksflyy · 25 days

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idk if this is like a weird request but could u do a percy x insecure!gf hcs?? like she’s not that confident about her looks and has a pretty low self esteem

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! ˚ʚ ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

pairing: percy jackson x insecure!fem!reader warning(s): swearin, obvi reader feeling insecure even tho she shouldnt bcs shes literally gorgeous nd breathtaking a/n: helloooo! ty for requesting!! i hope u enjoy this, had fun makin these :)

you're beautiful, every little piece love ♡♡

the second you even mentioned feeling insecure about ur looks percy went ??

ur literally the most gorgeous girl ive ever seen ??

a literal blessing from aphrodite herself ??

whatre you talking about ??

he's so quick to assure you that you're literally perfect ♡♡

lowkey

bro might pull out a mic

nd start singing what makes you beautiful

im talking whole ass performance

music video pulled up and everythinggg

bro thinks he's zayn frfr

he'll literally cover u in kisses

leaving little kisses nd telling you about how beautiful u are :((

if ANYBODY points out something ur insecure about he will personally make sure a wave knocks them down and are unable to get up the next time they visit the lake

js lookin out for his fav girl 🤗😋😆🤩

always telling you u look gorgeous

nd hes not lying

he'll compliment the little things about you that make him go crazy

there's not a single thing this man doesn't think is cool or pretty

he says it matter in the way you look at things

shit like acne ?? constellations on ur face.

stretch marks ?? flowers blooming on ur skin.

those r just some i could think of off the top of my head but u see what im talkin about :))

percy is literally ur #1 hype man

cheers you on in everything

complimenting you 24/7, 365

listens v closely

pays attention !!!

laughs at ur jokes

over all just makes u feel loved ♡♡

there's never been a single time where you've doubted if percy loves you

cause he makes sure you know it all. the. time.

if he notices that ur bringing yourself down after doing something, he's quick to either distract you or begin talking about how impressed he was while watching you

makes sure ur caring about yourself before caring about others ♡

always checking up and making sure your eating enough, drinking enough water, nd asking you if you feel alright ♡♡

if ur a smau girlie you best believe this man is always posting STUNNING photos of u and gushing abt you

does his best to help you grow more confident in yourself and help you see yourself in the way he sees you ♡

a/n pt.2 : heyyyy, hope u enjoyed!! ik these were a little short but yeah </3 have a good day / night !!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

#percy jackson #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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aliaology · 6 months

Text

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #mitch marner

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rafesslxt · 6 days

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SUPP IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REQUEST!! How about professor riddle marks ur work but u didn't get good grades so he punishes u? xoxo mattheosslut22

omg i smiled at this like a fool and my boyfriend asked me what I was smiling about hahaha - yes my real boyfriend, not mattheo duh

thank you for requesting doll 🫶🏻 I‘m already writing a professor one shot right now but with more plot, just have to finish it 👀

Bad student | Professor!Mattheo Riddle

summary: Professor Riddle and you have a special agreement.

warnings: professor x student so don‘t read if you don‘t like, kissing, teasing, fingering, unprotected p in v

words: 2,4k

I looked down at the paper I got back from Professor Riddle. I got an F. Fuck. My gaze wanders up as he looks at me with raised eyebrows and a kind of disappointed look on his face. "You might want to come to me after class." he says in a chilli tone.

Professor Riddle and I have an agreement. A secret one. If I continue to write bad notes, he stops fucking me. As a motivation. And If I get good ones, I get a reward - which is his dick. As a motivation of course.

I sigh and nod but he already left to give the rest of the students their papers back, which of course were all better than mine.

He continues with class and tries to explain everything but I only can concentrate on what‘s going to happen after this class. It is the last one I have today which means I have time and don‘t need to rush out, which is good. Or bad? I don‘t know yet and that‘s exactly what worries me.

The ring interrupts my thoughs and brings me back to the reality. That I‘m alone with him. I swallow the clump in my throat down and gather my things together.

As I walk to the front of the classroom and towards his desk he doesn‘t even look at me. I breath out, loudly. " Sooo.." i start and try to get him to look up but he still doesn‘t.

While correcting another test and sqribbling something on it he talks " You know what our arrangement was,right? " "Mattheo I - I mean Professor I‘m really sorry okay? I promise it won‘t happen again!" I almost begged. I couldn‘t imagine losing him and our sessions, they got me addicted.

"Yeah you said that the last few times you got a bad grade but now an F? No y/n." "Pleease, fuck there has to be something that I can do! I‘m literally begging you."

I saw him smirking a little and I knew he loved to hear me beg like this, litte fucker.

"I swear I‘m always paying attention I just - I didn‘t have had time to study with quidditch and everything." I wasn‘t even lying on that.

"Prove it. I‘ll ask you Questions and you‘ll have to get at least.. 8 out them right. If not, you can come back when you write good once again after the holiday‘s"

I looked at him in shock. "Holidays?!“ "Yeah, the next test we write is after the holidays." I shook my head, not able to live that long without that dick. I know how desperate I sound, but that was exactly how good he fucked me. I tried to forget him, tried to find fun somewhere else but It was useless with these boys at school. He just knew every single move to get me trembling under his touch.

"Okay okay.. give me those questions." "Sit down." I did as soon as he told me to and looked up at him as he stands up and walks to the desk I‘m sitting on.

"First question: Let‘s start with a easy one.. Which spell will cast a body bind upon an enemy?" he asks me, looking directly into my eyes. I lick my lips before answering. "Petrificus Totalus."

"What‘s the strongest love potion in the world?" I started smiling when the memory of him showing it to us last week came back. "Amortentia." I answered him. "What did you smell?" he asks curious as he slowly places his hands beside me on the table, getting closer to my body. "Does that count as a question?" i ask him in a teasing tone. "Answer." he says in a demanding one but I didn‘t miss the excitement in his eyes." So I answer him. "You."

"Smelled you too.“ he mumbles as he gets closer to my neck which leaves me nervous and with goosebumps all over my body.

"What is your only defense against the Imperius Curse?" I felt his lips brush against my skin but still not kissing it which made me even more desperate. "There is no defense.." i answer lost. "Wrong." he whispers and bites the skin on my soft spot. I whine and squeeze my eyes shut. "M-maybe I need a little motivation.." i started and looked down at his shirt.

He rolled his eyes but still smirked a little as my hands found the buttons to his shirt. While I opened them he took out his wand from his back pocket of his jeans and spelled the door shut.

When I opened the last button I pushed the material to the side and let my hands glide over his abs which he knew i love so much. "Don‘t get too eager baby. You already got one wrong." Now I rolled my eyes as my fingers followed the contour of his abs. "Won‘t happen again."

"No matter how many legs you have, they'll all dance if you're cursed with what jinx?" I snort and answer "Tarantallegra. Easy." He nods and asks his next question, his face now on my throat again. "Which potion acts as a truth drug?" I swallow as I feel his soft lips now ghost over my skin again. I open my mouth a few seconds before answering. "Veritaserum."

His lips now meet my skin and I moan. "Correct." He murmurs, leaving wet and passionate kisses all over my throat. His hands find their way to my knees, leaving them there.

"One side effect of the Draught of Peace, If done incorrectly?" he asks me while letting his hands wander up my legs towards my tights slowly. I press my lips together as I feel myself getting wetter.

"Answer, I know you‘re a smart girl." he grins, kissing along my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.

"Irreversible sleep. " "That‘s right, good girl." he starts playing with the hem of my skirt.

"Who created the main ingredient in the Elixir of Life?" "Nicolas Flammel." He nods and wanders towards my mouth with his lips. I start to get impatient and shift slighty on the table, making him smile again. "3 more baby."

"What is the final ingredient needed for Polyjuice Potion?" " Hair." As I answer correct, his lips connect with mine. My mouth almost opens itself when it feels his tounge gliding over my bottom lip. His hand moves further under my skirt, his fingers now right in front of my underwear. "I can already feel the heat from you." he groans against my lips before his tounge explores my mouth.

I let my hands wander to his back, where I scratch his skin slighty, sending shivers down his spine this time. "Hmm love when you do that." "I know."

He pulls away from my mouth a few inches and looks into my eyes. God his eyes. "When must Wolfsbane Potion be taken to be effective?" Shit. I really don‘t know. I think he saw it in my eyes when he lifted his eyebrows at me. "Uhm –" "Come on. We had this topic only a few weeks ago." "The week leading up to a full moon?" I ask more than answering.

I see a smirk forming on his lips and his head shaking. "So much for 'i listen to your classes', huh?" I groan in frustration. "Are you enjoying the thought of not fucking me for that long?" I ask him almost a little mad.

"No baby, my hand doesn‘t feel like you. But I know you‘ll feel even better after weeks of not riding my cock like you love to do." Wait. His hand? Doesn‘t he have like a tons of women at his feet? But I didn’t have that much time to think about it.

"Name me all of the Unforgiveable Curses." "Uhm – Avada Kedavra, Imperio and .. Crucio." He nods in approval and suddenly I can feel his fingers ghost over my damp underwear.

"Fuck baby, are you always this wet while answering your tests? Maybe I should help you next time so you don‘t write F‘s in my class hm?"

"Ask the last one." I say in a desperate voice. If I get this one right I can fuck him, If I get it wrong, these holidays will be the longest I ever had.

"Okay baby, now concentrate yeah? We had this last potion lesson. How long does Felix Felicis take to prepare?" I smile brightly at him as I instantly knew the answer to it. "6 months." i answer.

"Fuck thank god." he groans and pulls me closer to his body, my legs wrapping around his hips. "10 would have been enough." I answer him, my hands already in his soft curls, tugging at the ends which made him groan even more.

He picks me up and sits me down on his desk, pushing my upper body back. "Gonna give you your reward now baby. You were such a smart girl." he starts praising me. "Well, have a good teacher." "Oh yeah?" he smirks and pulls my skirt off. "Hmm, Professor Snape is actually really nice." Suddenly I feel pain flowing through my thigh, making me hiss.

I look down at him as he starts to kiss the skin he just bit. "Careful baby, don‘t forget who‘s in charge here." he mutters against my thigh, nibbling on it and preppering it with wet kisses. My hands find their way into his curly hair. "Please.." i whisper as he does the same to my other thigh.

"I would miss those little begs so much If I wouldn‘t have had them to hear over holidays." he mumbles against my skin, his lips now on my underwear. He groans as he pulls it down and sees my glistening folds.

And just like a starving man he pushed his fingers through my folds before lapping at my clit, making me bite down on my lip instantly. "Shit.." I breath out, closing my eyes too. "Nuh uh baby, look at me while I eat that sweet pussy of yours." he smirks when my eyes opened up again.

I look down at him, seeing just his eyes and a bit of his nose. Not once does he look away while eating me out and I can see the desire he's holding back right now clearly.

I feel him sliding two fingers inside me without a warning, groaning when they just slipped inside like nothing.

"Fuck me, please.." I beg, not being able to wait any longer. He lets go of me, his mouth and chin glistening from my wetness. I see him licking his lips, with half a smile, almost making me come just from the sight.

"Gonna pound that pussy numb, baby. Just preparing you for what will happen over the holidays." Since we had that agreement, I stayed almost every holidays here so I could spent them with him. "You're staying, right?" he asks as he sees me in thoughts. I start smiling and nod. " Of course." "Hmm good girl."

He pulls me closer to him again until my legs wrap around his hips. His hands open his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer shorts down, revealing his already throbbing cock.

He lets the tip glide over my clit teasing me. His mouth is open, breathing heavy and looking at me through his lashes. "Ready Baby?" "Uh-huh." I mumble, nodding before he finally pushes inside me.

"Fuck yes, so fucking tight." he groans as he slowly pushes inch for inch inside. I let my head fall back and bite down on my bottom li to not moan too loud.

He starts thrusting forward with his hips, making the table squeak against the floor and echoing through the classroom. "I swear I will never get tired of this pussy." he smirks down at me while his words send butterflies down my stomach. I let out a little whine as his right hand wanders up to my throat, cocking me just so slightly but good.

"You still gonna write bad grades, huh?" he ask me, thrusting harder now. "N-no?" I answer but it sounds more like a question. Suddenly he pulls out and turns me around so I'm laying flat with my stomach on the desk. He spreads my legs and pushes inside me again, putting his whole weight on me.

A moan slips past my lips but he puts his hand over my mouth, grinning arrogant. "Let me guess, 'oh daddy it's too much', right?" he mocks while rocking my whole shit into the table.

He pulls his hand away from my mouth and wraps it around my throat again, squeezing with more pressure than before. "Shit Mattheo" I groan, letting my eyes roll back into my head.

"What is it baby? Thought you're able to handle it hm? Should I stop?" "No, no don't stop." I whine out at the though of losing the feeling of him.

Suddenly I feel a sharp pain going through my body. I look behind me over my shoulder and see Mattheo smiling at me like a innocent angel. Yeah, right. He slaps my ass again, this time harder.

"What? Did you think this is gonna be all nice and shit? You still wrote a bad grade. Gonna have to punish you at least a little hm."

He does it again, over and over again until my whole ass is fire red. His thrusting of course continues without faltering. "Fuck I'm close." I groan, my eyes already shut. His hand slides under my body towards my clit and starts rubbing circles on it with his fingers.

"Come around my cock baby." And shit, I did. I feel my walls clenching around him, milking him almost. I hear him groan behind me and his thrust getting more uneven. "O-oh fuckk.." I feel him coming inside me, his head falling down against my shoulder.

"Shit, you always do this to me." he says before kissing my skin. "What do you mean?" "You always pull me in, would have fucked you no matter what grade you got. You just got me wrapped around your finger." I smile at his words, knowing damn well he got me hooked too.

The end was Kida rushed I'm sorry, let me know If you liked it 👀

Taglist: 💞💗💕

@justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @nevereverthem @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @atadoddinnit @auxcordlawd @helena-1105 @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgalllery @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @miribenh26 @azalea3leaza @littlemadamred

thank you for every support 🫶🏻

Sorry it took so long but had a writing block

xoxo sarah <3

#slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #harry potter imagine #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #professor mattheo riddle

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holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

red flags | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

this is based off a request an anon left for @leclvrc but they opened it up for someone else to write it: 'toxic ex Charles where the reader and Carlos are together and Charles just couldn't stand that his teammates is with his ex'

word count: 13.2k (im so sorry) tags/warnings: 18+ toxic, smut, a lot of swears, really toxic, not healthy, i don’t condone any of this, this has so many red flags, more than the 2022 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix qualifying session (which was a lot) cheating, which i also don’t condone AT ALL holy moly don’t cheat on your partners, not even for charles leclerc, a little degrading, some choking did i mention this is just angst and hate and smut, thigh riding, overstimulation, p in v, all of it, this is bad this is all bad, if you ever come across a guy like this fucking run and alternatively if you relate to y/n pls seek a therapist.

Honestly, it was fucking stupid. All of it.

The way Charles looked at you when you walked into the motorhome as if you were a driver for a rival team was stupid. The way he literally rolled his eyes or made a face of disgust whenever you kissed Carlos was stupid. The way he completely disregarded your presence as you stood at the barrier to congratulate Carlos and him at the end of a Ferrari 1-2, was fucking stupid. And it was on international television so everyone and their mother was able to see the way Charles purposely ignored you after hugging the people on either side of you.

You decided to call him out on it the second you and Carlos returned to the hotel.

“What room is he in?” You demanded, storming down the hall when the elevator doors opened.

“Mi cielo, I don’t have a key to his room.”

The endearing term almost made you forget about ripping into Charles. Carlos had such a good weekend, he just wanted to relax and celebrate with you. Instead, he was following you down the hallway as you pointed at all of the numbered suites, waiting to see if Carlos would react to any of them.

And he did. He swallowed when you passed room 1250. You came to a sudden halt and looked back and forth between him and the door.

“This is his room?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my love,” you clicked your tongue against your teeth, stepping forward to cup his cheek with your hand. You felt his stubble under the pads of your fingers as you plastered on your sweetest smile. “You have a distinct tell when you lie.”

Your smile dropped as Carlos tried to argue with you, assuring you that he wasn’t lying. But he did the same thing every time a little white lie passed through his lips. He always glanced up and to the left. Very quickly, you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but it was a nervous tell of his you came to learn early on into your relationship.

Turning on your heels, you raised your fist to the door and started to hit it obnoxiously loud. Carlos attempted to grab your arm to get you to stop, muttering something about how there were other people in this hotel, but you just swatted him away and kept pounding on the wooden surface.

Charles knew you were out in the hall. There was no one else who would be causing this much of a disturbance just to talk to him. You had done it before, before you two even broke up. There were countless times when the two of you had gotten into fights during a race weekend and he’d ask for the hotel keys to be switched, purposely locking you out for a few hours, occasionally even for a full night if the argument was bad enough.

Honestly, you should have walked away from Charles a lot sooner.

But when things were good they were really fucking good. And the make up sex after you two were finished yelling at each other was almost as good as the hate sex.

And that’s all it was that was keeping you together. The physical attraction, the intimate pull you two shared. It wasn’t love, it wasn't romance and it certainly wasn’t the idea that you two would start a family and settle down one day. It was purely sex and it was unhealthy.

Whereas Carlos was everything Charles could never be.

Obviously jumping from one Ferrari driver to another caused a bit of an uproar, but it made for an entertaining episode on the last season of Drive to Survive. The producers had a habit of creating their own drama, but they didn’t need to embellish anything between Carlos and Charles. There was tension on the track, the determination to be the better driver, the constant fight and you were in the middle of it.

It wasn’t your fault that Carlos just so happened to be standing in the motorhome when you and Charles got into one of the worst screaming matches of your lives. You both thought the place was empty, it was nearly midnight and no one had any reason to still be at the paddock.

But Carlos heard it all. He heard all of the things Charles called you. He heard every swear in every possible language you knew come out of your mouth. He heard the door slam. He heard the way you screamed ‘We’re done’ with such strength and fury that he himself was paralysed with fear as you stormed down the stairs.

And then he saw your tear stained cheeks. He saw your trembling hands and heard your ragged breaths as you landed on the bottom step. You met Carlos’ eyes and not only were you embarrassed that he was a witness to that whole mess, his pitiful stare was what pushed you to the edge.

Your knees gave out as you all but collapsed to the floor. Carlos crossed the motorhome and bent down to your level, hurrying to take off his jumper so you could use it to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop.

What were you even crying for? Your relationship had been over for months by that point. Charles treated you like shit. You treated him like shit. It was a toxic cycle that was finally coming to an end.

But for two years, he was all you knew. He was everything to you. The good, the bad, the disastrous, it was your life.

You didn’t intend on anyone picking up the pieces. This was your mess, you had to move on by yourself.

So when Carlos offered to take you out, get you away from the motorhome, away from Charles, even just go for a drive, you almost said no. He had seen the downfall of yours and Charles’ relationship coming for a while now and you didn’t want to burden him anymore. You should have just stood up and left.

But you didn’t.

You hung out with Carlos that night. Nothing happened, of course. Maybe because part of you was holding onto that sliver of hope that Charles would call and ask where you were, only that call never came. He was done too.

There were no ulterior motives when you decided to keep hanging out with Carlos. It wasn’t to get under Charles’ nerves, it wasn’t so you could still be around the paddock. In all honesty, you avoided the races for a while, not wanting to run into Charles. Your friendship with Carlos grew, but you kept it private. It wasn’t until the second last race of the season, nearly four months after you and Charles called things off, did you decide to show up in support of Carlos.

God did you regret that. If you had known the Drive to Survive production team was still hanging around, you probably would have stayed home. Instead, you gave them the last little bit of drama they needed before calling it a wrap.

Charles spotted you first, which wasn’t ideal. You hadn’t shown up with Carlos, but he was expecting you. Charles, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks and took his sunglasses off, narrowing his eyes at you as you walked in his direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles asked, clear annoyance on his face. To him, you were a headache with legs. He thought he’d never have to see you again.

You weren’t going to let his attitude get to you. If anyone was going to be the bigger person you made sure it was you. You smiled sweetly at him, not even bothering to stop to give him the time of day as you just pointed at the Ferrari motorhome.

“You can’t go in there,” Charles scoffed, pivoting on his heels to follow you. He reached for your arm and you were quick to pull it from his grasp.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snarled.

“Then don’t show up at the fucking race,” Charles shot back. “Why are you here, Y/N? You have no reason to be here.”

“I’m just here to support my favourite Ferrari driver.”

The confusion on his face was priceless. 100% he was wondering if you were there in hopes of winning him back.

But Carlos’ timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He was walking from the other end of the paddock and picked up his pace the second he saw you and Charles already bickering. He didn’t want you two to cause a scene, but he might have already been too late.

When you spotted Carlos, you genuinely forgot about the Monegasque driver standing right next to you. Your hard features softened. Your scowl shifted into a smile. Your shoulders relaxed.

Before Carlos could even greet you, Charles let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking my teammate.”

“Not yet,” you shrugged. “I’ll see how well he does today first.”

It was a joke that Charles took literally. Once Carlos finally reached you, he placed a hand on your back and asked how your drive in was, giving Charles the cold shoulder.

Charles couldn’t believe what was right in front of him. His ex and his teammate. Friends? Possibly more than friends? He scoffed, pulling you both from your private conversation, “This is a fucking joke.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” You challenged him. Carlos picked up on your venomous tone and pulled you closer into his side, ready to intervene if he needed to.

Charles just looked at Carlos and slid his sunglasses back on, “Have fun with her, mate. She’s a wild card.”

“Can we just all be civil?” Carlos asked, looking between you and Charles. Neither of you said anything. That wasn’t something either of you could promise. Carlos eventually sighed, staring right at Charles, “She won’t bother you.”

“You don’t speak for me,” you snapped your head towards him.

Carlos wasn’t about to put up with your attitude right now. You were annoyed, your morning hadn’t started off the way you wanted and you were dangerously close to taking it out on the wrong person. Carlos recognised this and spoke directly to you, “You won’t bother him, right?”

You didn’t want to ruin Carlos’ day. So you nodded, agreeing to stay out of Charles’ way granted he offered you the same courtesy.

Charles stalked off immediately following that conversation. And he was true to his word, he stayed out of your way.

The only problem was, the fucking Netflix crew managed to capture most of that interaction. Even if they didn’t get audio, they didn’t need it. They could fill in the blanks and turn this situation into a goddamn soap opera.

It didn’t help that when Carlos landed a podium, you were right there against the barriers. Neither of you had crossed that line yet and had remained friends for the last few months, but the adrenaline was high. Carlos had one of the best races of his life and you were genuinely so excited to have witnessed it, to have been there to cheer him on, to be one of the first people he saw when he parked the car at the end of the race.

You made the first move, and even then, it wasn’t really a move. You kissed his helmet, barely able to contain the grin on your face as the crowd behind you exploded for him.

You didn’t expect him to pull his helmet off, that’s for damn sure. But he did. He handed it towards a team member for temporary safe keeping and grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours. There were about twenty other people he could have celebrated with first, you were only a friend up until now, but he wanted to kiss you in front of thousands of people.

Charles never did that.

He’d hug you, maybe, if you weren’t in a bad mood and were actually watching from the garage. He wouldn’t jump into your arms like he did the rest of the team. He wouldn’t make it public that he was elated to see you in the crowd. He’d squeeze your arm or your waist, that was it.

Carlos didn’t think twice about the repercussions. He didn’t think about twitter and instagram blowing up as CARLOS CELEBRATES WITH CHARLES LECLERC’S EX-GF topped all of the trends. He didn’t think about how bad this would look for you or the team, or for the dynamic between him and Charles moving forward.

The upside was there was only one race left. One race, which of course you attended. And then you two were in the clear.

During the winter break, you were in your own little world. Carlos treated you how you knew you deserved to be treated. He didn’t raise his voice at you, or if he did it was only in a playful way or when you had stolen the remote and changed the film when he stood up to use the bathroom during a movie night.

Slowly but surely, you were falling in love with the Spanish driver.

It was a whirlwind romance that came out of nowhere and knocked you off your feet. The two of you were on cloud nine from December to March. Four months where the world beyond his house didn’t matter. The drama didn’t matter. The impending tension as you moved closer and closer to the start of the new season, didn’t matter.

You didn’t even care that Netflix painted you out to be a villain. At this point, the majority of Charles' fans couldn’t stand you and about half of Carlos’ fans didn’t trust you. Paddock Bunny, you were called. Hopping from driver to driver.

But people didn’t know about the toxic relationship you shared with Charles. No one outside of the Paddock knew you two were at your absolute worst when you were together. If they did, they’d probably be over the fucking moon to hear how Carlos was treating you in comparison. They’d probably stop rooting for the Monegasque driver.

What a sight that would be. People burning their 16 caps and CL merch because they found out how awful of a partner he was. It would never happen, but you could dream.

You were tempted to make that dream a reality when you showed up at testing in Bahrain with Carlos. You had so much dirt on Charles, so many stories that would ruin him and the Leclerc name that when he took one look at you in the paddock that first weekend in March, you nearly sent in an anonymous email to Sky Sports.

Carlos talked you out of it, telling you that you couldn’t drag his teammate through the mud.

But Charles was such a fucking asshole. He stayed out of your way, sure, but if your paths did cross he made you feel so inferior, like you weren’t allowed to be in the Paddock. He’d make snarky little comments to other drivers or to members of his team, calling you names you didn’t want to repeat, all because you were with Carlos now. He treated you like you were scum of the earth.

So…it was similar to when you were dating. The only difference now was you couldn’t scream at him or cause a fight when you felt the tension building. You couldn’t even attempt to work through it, even temporarily. Both of you just carried all of this weight and frustration on your shoulders, both angry at the other for the stupidest fucking reasons.

Flash forward to today's race when it finally came to a boiling point.

Charles won. Carlos finished second. It was a Ferrari 1-2 at the second race of the season. This would do wonders for the constructors and for both of them. You hated Charles but you would always be a Ferrari fan. You supported Carlos so in some way, you were sort of forced to support Charles. At an arm's length and through tooth and nail, but you did want to see both drivers succeed.

When both drivers made their way out of the cars, Carlos found you first. He kissed you, of course he did. He was glistening with sweat, his name was being called from all angles but he found you and he kissed you like there wasn’t a single person watching.

He made his way down the line, celebrating with his team and Charles did the same. They exchanged a hug as they met in the middle of the line and it was only a few seconds later when Charles was right in front of you.

He didn’t even look your way. He hugged the person to your left and then grabbed the arms of the person to your right, bypassing you completely.

You weren’t expecting a celebratory hug, you certainly didn’t want one. But the cameras had caught the lack of interaction and now once again your name was trending. CHARLES GIVES EX THE COLD SHOULDER AFTER FERRARI 1-2.

You looked like a fucking idiot. It didn’t help that someone with a camera captured a clip of you staring at Charles like he had just spit on you or insulted your entire family. The disgust and betrayal on your face was evident.

Carlos tried to tell you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he just didn’t see you. You were right in the front and you were the same fucking height, of course he saw you.

So you were pissed the entire drive to the hotel. Carlos asked you not to say anything. He practically begged for the two of you to just go back to your room, but the moment you stepped out of the elevator, your mind was made up.

Now here you were, banging on his hotel room door. The underside of your first was starting to turn numb and no matter what, Carlos couldn’t get you to stop. Each time he tried to grab your hand or pull you away, you elbowed him in the side or yanked your arm out of his grasp.

“Open the fucking door!” You yelled, landing one more exceptionally hard hit on it. Carlos winced at the contact. Your hand was going to hurt in the morning, but the fact that you paid the pain no attention right now said a lot. How often did you find yourself in this situation?

But it worked. Charles probably had enough of the disturbance and he swung the door open. You had half a mind to land a hit directly to his nose, but that wouldn’t look good for his image.

He didn’t even look at Carlos. His gaze hardened as he met your stare, “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything!” You jabbed a finger against his chest, pushing him further into his own hotel suite. Carlos tried to grab your arm and pull you back but it just resulted in him being dragged into the room after you. There was no stopping you when you were this outraged. You scanned over Charles, hating his I’m-too-good-for-this-shit, expression he wore. “What I need is for you to get your fucking head out of your ass.”

“What are you talking about?”

The nerve of this man.

“Have you not looked at your phone recently?” You tried not to scream at him, but it was hard to keep your voice at a respectful volume when the person who caused you so much grief and anger was standing a foot away from you. “Everyone saw the way you completely ignored me at the end of your race. I’m a fucking laughing stock on social media right now.”

Charles nodded, his jaw clenched, “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you brought this on yourself by sleeping with your ex’s teammate?”

You turned over your head at Carlos who was now leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he watched you two hash it out. This was probably a long time coming. This was also the longest you had gone without fighting, you had a lot of pent up aggression and you were certain he did too.

Carlos knew that there was a time and a place to step in, so he just watched carefully, listening for when one of you crossed a line. He couldn’t place a bet for who would be the first to do so, but he knew it was coming.

You stepped forward, expecting Charles to step backwards to keep the gap, but he was never one to back down from you. That was your problem, one of them at least. You were both too stubborn.

“I don’t know why you think this is just a fucking hook up, Charles, but let me remind you that it’s not. I love him-”

“I love you too,” Carlos added from behind you and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t humanely possible to grow tired of hearing those words.

But again, time and place.

Charles snickered when you held up a hand towards your boyfriend, a nonverbal reminder that now was probably not the time to interject, even if he did so with the sweetest intentions.

You focused back on Charles. “I love him, so I’ll be sticking around for a while whether you like it or not.” And just to get under his skin, you added, “I know love is a word you’re probably not familiar with-”

Charles dragged his hands over his face. It was his turn to raise his voice as he cut you off mid-sentence before you could finish whatever painful truth he didn’t want to hear, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I want you to apologise for completely disregarding me earlier.

“What are you on about, Y/N?”

You hated the way he said your name. Like each individual letter was laced with its own personal brand of venom.

“Are you kidding me?” He had to be playing dumb to piss you off even more. “I was at the barrier and you hugged every other person around me and didn’t even have the audacity to look at me. I don’t need a hug, Charles, but maybe get off your fucking high horse and show some fucking appreciation when I show up in support of Ferrari! Put on a fucking act when the cameras are around, at least.”

Charles raked his eyes over your body. Your chest was rising with each angered breath. He knew your heart was racing. He knew what you were like when you were riled up like this.

He also knew that if you weren’t with Carlos, this fight would end very differently.

He knew you would turn around and leave with Carlos when you finally got the last word in but if Carlos wasn’t glued to your side right now, you wouldn’t be leaving until Charles fucked you so hard, you forgot why you were even mad in the first place.

He’d pin you against the wall to get you to stop talking and kiss every inch of the skin visible on your neck before his hand found a home on your throat. His other hand would work to keep your wrist glued to the wall to keep you from grabbing him.

He’d tease you until you were begging for him to actually do something and even then, Charles would take his time with you. Sex with him was never easy. It wasn’t gentle or loving, it was rough and fueled by a variety of emotions, anger being the most prominent.

But that wasn’t how this fight was going to end. Charles could rile you up all he wanted but at the end of the night, you’d go back to your room with Carlos. You could take the rest of your anger out on him in bed and he’d probably run you a fucking bubble bath afterwards and kiss your shoulders. He probably had a whole assortment of ways to make you forget why you were upset, wholesome ways. Ways that didn’t make you want to claw his eyes out.

Charles hated the thought.

He hated knowing that you could stand here and yell at him and get most of your frustration out and at the end of it, you had someone else to turn to. Someone to turn things around for the better. Whereas he had no one. He had to stand here and listen to you scream at him and when you left, he’d be alone.

There would be no hate sex. No make up sex. No waking up the next morning with you in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to bury his face into the back of your neck, making you laugh softly when he muttered something about your hair being too long. He could no longer reach for your arm to pull you back on top of the covers when you tried to stand up to go take a shower.

You two had some horrible days and a lot of insufferable nights.

But the mornings were good.

Before anything else mattered, before either of you could remember why you were fighting twelve hours earlier, before a comment was said that negatively affected your mood for the next few hours.

The mornings were fucking good and god did he miss that.

He wondered if you did too.

But you probably had the best mornings with Carlos. He probably made you breakfast in bed, something that Charles was always too tired to do. Carlos probably pulled you into the bathroom to shower with him whereas Charles always complained about the type of shampoo you used and how you hogged most of the water. Carlos probably invited you out to his events, his meetings, to run errands and Charles wouldn’t even consider letting you tag along, knowing that a fight would break out one way or another.

You brought out the worst in each other.

He should have walked away from you a long time ago.

He had enough experience with red flags to know that you were the worst of them.

Neither of you could explain why you put up with each other for so long. It wasn’t love, it was never love. What you had with Carlos was love.

Charles could admit he was envious.

Why couldn’t you ever look at him the way you looked at his teammate? Why was it so easy for Carlos to make you laugh? Why did he walk in on conversations where Carlos was talking about you like you put the fucking sun in the sky?

What did Carlos have that he didn’t? Besides patience. And a sense of humour. And the ability to admit when he was in the wrong.

The more Charles thought about it, the more it sunk in that he wasn’t good for you.

He remembered when you first started dating and he wanted to be good for you. He wanted to be what you needed. He wanted to fall in love with you and he wanted you to fall in love with him in return.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when something in your relationship shifted for the worse, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

This whole thing was fucking stupid. You kissing Carlos after he got second place was stupid, especially when he thought about how you never kissed him when he got a podium. You banging on his door hours after the race to yell at him was stupid. And now, you standing right in front of him while your boyfriend, his teammate, listened with caution in case he had to step in was fucking stupid. You could handle yourself, Charles knew that much.

You were still yelling at him about how he had completely disregarded you after the race. Charles zoned out for a second, something he often did when you raised your voice. All of these fights sounded the same, it didn’t matter what the current problem was. The biggest problem was always your relationship in general. The two of you should not have been allowed within ten feet of each other.

He promptly cut you off, “Y/N you are the absolute last person I want to see when I finish a race.”

“Well suck it up because I’m going to be around for a while,” your jaw tightened as you spoke. The lines in your forehead were making a reappearance. You were always scowling at him, Charles couldn’t remember the last time you looked relaxed.

“That doesn’t mean I need to put up with it.”

“Yes it fucking does,” you retorted. “I’m here for Carlos and here for Ferrari. You just so happen to be part of this fucking team so unfortunately for both of us, we can’t just avoid each other all season, Charles.”

“Well we can fucking try and you can start-” he gestured towards the door, “-by getting the hell out of my hotel room.”

You tugged at the roots of your hair, inhaling a deep breath, “Oh my fucking god-”

“Can you please control her?” Charles turned his line of sight towards Carlos. Carlos looked like he didn’t want to be dragged into the middle of this, but now he had no choice.

“Control me?” You yelled. “Oh you pretentious, arrogant fucking bastard-”

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos stepped forward, cutting you off before you could start swearing in French. He reached for your hand and you were harsh in pulling it away from him. The last thing you wanted right now was to be touched, though.

“No, mate you’re doing it wrong,” Charles interjected. A wicked smirk on his lips as he stared at you but spoke directly to Carlos. “You can’t grab her like that, she doesn’t like it. She’ll only listen if you go for the throat, choke the words out of her-”

Now Carlos was getting involved. You made a swing towards Charles, aiming for his face but Carlos grabbed you and pulled you back, his arms tightening around your waist and using his strength to his advantage, something he didn’t like doing with you. He practically pushed you towards the door before squaring up with Charles himself, nearly chest to chest.

Carlos was fuming over what Charles had said. He knew your relationship was toxic, but he couldn’t believe that after months, almost a year, of it being over, Charles could still say something so degrading, so disrespectful.

And Charles was smirking. He thought this was entertaining. He knew Carlos wouldn’t hit him. He knew Carlos wouldn’t let you hit him. He also knew that you weren’t going to be able to get the last word in, something you thrived on.

“I’m not wrong,” Charles said quietly, eyes darting towards you for a brief second as you stood with your arms crossed by the door. Charles gestured towards his own neck, “Give it a try sometime. She likes it.”

“How about you just stop talking about her, yeah?” Carlos suggested, with an underlying bitter tone that wasn’t usually present when he opened his mouth. “Don’t talk about her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look at her.”

He made the mistake of looking at you right when he said that and Carlos raised his hand to push on Charles’ chest, forcing his attention away from you.

He didn’t want to fight with teammate, but he was going to stand up for you no matter what. Time and place, he decided, and right now, Charles had to be put in his fucking place.

“She’s not worth it, mate,” Charles chuckled.

“It’s the other way around, mate.” Carlos mimicked. “You’re not worth it. At least Y/N was able to figure that out.”

They both flinched when the door slammed. Carlos turned over his shoulder to see that you were no longer standing there. You stormed out of the room. Charles tried to tell him to just leave you be, you did this all the time, but Carlos wasn’t Charles.

He followed you out and found you furiously pressing the elevator button, tapping your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor. Carlos knew better than to reach for your arm at this point, so he settled for putting his hand on your waist and stepping forward until his chest was against you. You felt the tension in your shoulders dissipate when he slowly snaked his arm around your stomach, pulling you against him.

You dropped your head to his shoulder, eyes closed and you whispered, “I hate him.”

“I know,” Carlos pressed a kiss to your temple.

What a fucking difference. Usually you were screaming ‘I hate you’ and you’d hear those three words repeated back. Sometimes in French. Sometimes in Italian. Once, Charles took you by surprise and screamed it in Spanish. Whatever the context, whatever the language, whatever the fight, you’d always hear it back.

You raised your hand to press your palm against his cheek. Carlos hugged you tighter against him and you stayed like that until the elevator doors finally opened on the twelfth level.

You pressed the button to take you to the lobby and Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing the room you shared was on the tenth floor.

“I need air,” you answered his wordless question. “Just for a minute. I need to take a walk.”

“I don’t want you walking around by yourself this late,” Carlos was worried for your safety and that was such a foreign concept to you. When you told Charles you need to go for a walk he would say ‘I don’t care’ or ‘don’t come back’. He wasn’t concerned about what could happen to you when you stepped outside.

You extended your hand out to grab his, giving him an assuring squeeze, “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Carlos walked you to the doors of the lobby, not letting your hand go until he had to. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and slid the extra room key into your jacket pocket. He then took hold of your face, tilting it upwards so he could look you directly in the eyes.

“I love you, mi cielo,” he kissed your lips feverishly. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

Mi cielo. My sky. My heaven. Carlos started calling you that soon after you started dating. When you asked what it meant, he said that he was calling you his own personal slice of heaven right here on earth.

That’s when you knew you loved him.

You assured him once more you’d be fine before stepping outside, letting the midnight air hit your cheeks. Your jacket was thin, but you didn’t plan on staying out for very long. With your hands shoved in your pockets, you made your way down the sidewalk, replaying the last few minutes in your head.

You really did hate Charles.

Everything about him infuriated you beyond reason.

You couldn’t stand his arrogant attitude. How he couldn’t own up to his own mistakes, in his personal life, in your relationship, on the track. Charles just couldn't be wrong. All of his problems were always someone else's fault.

You remembered the first horrible fight you got into. You had bickered here and there, all couples did, but when he returned home after a race weekend and you showed him the text you got from Pierre, one that read ‘did you and Charles break up?’ you lost it on him.

He cheated on you. Why the fuck else would Pierre be asking you that? There were no photos, no proof, and Pierre refused to go into detail, but you knew. You could practically smell the infidelity on him as he walked through the door.

When gaslighting you into thinking you were crazy didn’t work, Charles tried to blame you for his actions. He tried to say that you didn’t pay him enough attention, that you should be joining him during race weekends so he didn’t feel tempted to seek affection somewhere else. It was your fault he cheated.

And you loved him, well you thought you did, so you started accompanying him more often.

God did that just make things worse.

Everything was a constant downhill in your relationship. There was no silver lining. There were good moments, but they were always overshadowed by the impending dark clouds. It was never easy for you two.

And you weren’t perfect either, you could admit you had flaws and contributed to your relationship falling apart. You didn’t trust Charles, as much as you wanted to, you never did. There was no solid foundation for you two to ever stand on so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the cracks started forming.

You became annoyed with every little thing he did, or said, or even the way he looked at you. Qualities of his you used to admire soon because the reasons why you struggled to be in the same room as him.

The two of you were constantly at each other's throats. It was unhealthy and everyone around you saw it.

His team was probably ecstatic when they heard you broke up. They didn’t have to worry about a blow up in the garage or Charles being in a bad mood during meetings.

No one could have expected you’d show up again with Carlos.

The team walked on eggshells, watching to see if you and Charles would return to your ways, bickering, arguing, yelling.

But that didn’t happen during testing. Nor did it happen during the first race weekend, or the second. There were only petty comments made behind the others back, but nothing that caused the two of you to get into each other's faces again.

You thought maybe you could work with this. Just having to see Charles. As long as you didn’t talk directly to him, everything would be fine. That’s what the whole team was hoping for, at least.

And then this bullshit after the race happened and you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore. You needed Charles to understand where you were coming from, why he couldn’t just brush you off in front of the public eye like that.

There was so much more you wanted to say to him too, you wondered why you even stormed out.

Going for a walk and getting air wasn’t helping. If anything, the anger stirred inside of you and the more time you spent not letting it out, the more worked up you became.

Maybe that’s why you found yourself hitting button 12 instead of 10 when you returned to the hotel. You needed to get one or two more things off your chest and then you’d be fine, then you could go back to Carlos.

You knocked on the door, politely this time. Not like it mattered because he probably looked through the peephole to see who was standing in the hall.

The door swung open. Charles rolled his eyes after checking to see if Carlos had followed you up. When he realised that you were alone, he pushed the door open some more, just enough for you to step in.

“I take it you’re not done?” Charles’ assumption was correct, but it was a little surprising that he invited you in without you needing to cause a scene. Maybe he had more he wanted to say to you as well.

He grabbed the remote off the edge of the counter and paused the movie that was playing. You recognised it instantly. He was watching The Princess Bride. One of your favourite movies.

There’s no fucking way he was just scrolling through the tv guide and came across it. He had to purposely search and pay for it.

You raised your eyebrows and pointed at the television, completely ignoring his question, “Princess Bride?”

He shrugged, “It was just on.”

Bull-fucking-shit.

“I thought you hated this movie,” you recalled the number of times you tried to get him to watch it with you and he never would.

Charles shrugged again, “Well you seem to like it.”

“So you’re just now giving it a chance eight months after we’ve broken up?”

“Would you rather I not watch it?”

“I would have rathered you watched it with me when I fucking asked you too!” It only took ten seconds for you to raise your voice at him. “Jesus, Charles, when I told you it was my favourite movie you went out of your fucking way to never let me watch it.”

“You’re being dramatic. I never did that.”

“Don’t gaslight me.”

“Stop using that fucking word,” He had heard it so many times during your fights.

“Stop giving me a reason to.”

And just like that, you had fallen back into your previous cycle. Pointless, stupid, meaningless fights. Over a movie for fucks sakes. But you were both so easy to piss off. No one worked you two up quite like the other.

“Why are you here?” Charles asked, shifting the conversation back to you. “Shouldn’t you be with Carlos?”

You caught the lingering jealousy in his tone. The way he waved his hand to the side, acting as though you dating his teammate didn’t bother him, when in reality it did.

But Charles also caught the way your breath caught in your throat. He noticed how you shifted your balance from one leg to the other, something you only did when you were nervous. You may not have been a good pair, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know you.

“Carlos has no idea that you’re here right now, does he?” Charles didn’t even have to ask. He knew the answer.

Maybe that’s why he stepped forward slowly, eyes raking over your body like they had done so many times before. Maybe because he knew Carlos didn’t know your whereabouts, Charles felt confident enough to step around you and tug at the sleeves of your jacket until it was no longer on your body. You didn’t know why you let him. You came here to yell at him some more and in a split second, in the blink of a fucking eye, the atmosphere shifted.

Charles reached for your wrist and you reacted like you did every other time someone touched you, by flinching away and putting some space between your bodies.

But that wasn’t going to work with Charles.

He paid no attention to your reserved tendencies and just grabbed your other arm instead, gripping your wrist and turning you to face him before you could react fast enough. You attempted to pull away, you even pushed on his chest, but Charles was unphased. He just waited a few seconds, letting you think you’d win this and then he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around so your back was pressed against his chest, your arms crossed over your body like an X.

Charles dipped chin so his mouth was right by your ear. His breath was hot against your skin. There was no doubt in your mind that he could feel your heart racing through the clothes on your back.

“Mon amour,” Charles spoke so softly, but you didn’t let his gentle tone fool you. Neither did you let his name for you affect you the way it used to. “Let’s stop fighting, oui?”

“Don’t call me that,” you pulled against his hold but his grip was too tight.

Charles chuckled and you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach, “What would you rather I call you? Mi cielo?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, I can’t believe he calls you that,” his lips travelled dangerously close along your skin. You could feel goosebumps rise over every inch of your skin. “You were always picky about pet names, but Carlos doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Don’t-”

You lost the last of your argument when Charles suddenly let you go, only to pin you against the nearby wall instead. His hand went to your throat, keeping you in place without applying any pressure. Before you could push him off of you, he grabbed both of your wrists and placed them above your head.

This was a position the two of you had found yourselves in more often than not.

But you were broken up now. You were with Carlos. You loved Carlos. Charles had absolutely no fucking right to be trying to pull a move like this.

And you had no right to be enjoying it.

“Answer me,” Charles’ eyes darkened. “Does Carlos know what you like? Does he know how to turn you on, mon amour?” He leaned in, his lips hovering right over yours, “Does he know you still think about me?”

“Let go of me,” your voice was barely audible, like you had to convince yourself to say the words and even then, you weren’t even sure if what you were demanding was what you really wanted.

Charles noticed how you avoided each of his questions, which in itself was a good enough answer to all of them.

When he released the hold on your neck, you expected his other hand to follow. You weren’t surprised, however, when his grip on your wrists only tightened. His fingers trailed down your side, stopping to push up the hem of your shirt. You shivered under his touch and it gave Charles a bit of an ego boost, the confidence he needed to go further.

You wanted him. Even if you said you didn’t, the way you reacted to the faintest touch told him otherwise.

He needed to hear it though. He’d tease you until the sun came up, he’d done it before. What Charles wanted was to hear you beg. He wanted you to tell him how desperate you were for him, how these last eight months without him had been unbearable.

He had no idea what your sex life with Carlos was like. He didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Charles knew he would always be the best fuck of your life. No one would ever take that title from him.

He undid the button of your jeans, all while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d put up more of a fight or not.

You were the one that showed up here, alone, after an argument.

You may have been broken up, but if there was one thing Charles knew, it was recognising a fucking pattern.

He then dragged your zipper down next. He traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at them to see what colour they were.

Of course they were red.

“For Carlos,” you told him, reminding him that you had a boyfriend. You wore a matching lingerie set for your boyfriend. “He likes me in red.”

“Of course he does,” Charles tossed that thought aside, “It’s a shame he won’t be able to enjoy them.”

He slipped the tips of his fingers past the seam. It was embarrassing how your back arched off the wall. Charles made sure your legs were spread by keeping a knee pressed between them and he looked pleased with himself as his hand travelled further down your panties.

His hand rested just above your clit, he didn’t need to go any further to know you were soaking. Charles knew exactly what to do and say to turn you on, to leave you craving him. His nose brushed against yours and if you tilted your chin up the slightest bit, your lips would connect.

But Charles dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck instead, the spot where your throat met your jawline. You craned your head upwards, automatically giving him easier access as his teeth grazed your skin.

Charles knew your body better than you did. He knew that the second he took your earlobe between his teeth, your breaths would become staggered. He knew that the tighter he held onto your wrist, the more you gave in, you always gave in. He knew that the moment his fingers brushed over your clit, a helpless whimper would pass through your lips.

Charles knew the pattern by heart. He knew you.

So when he did all of that and Carlos’ name didn’t cross your mind, you knew you were screwed. You should have been trying harder to push Charles off of you. You shouldn’t have even showed up here in the first place.

He started massaging your clit, slowly yet confident in his actions and you were absolutely throbbing. Charles didn’t like gentle so the fact he was taking his time right now, purposely trying to work you up even more, only pissed you off further.

Charles dropped his mouth, moving to suck on another sensitive part of your neck. He debated leaving a mark, something you’d struggle to hide when you eventually, inevitably, returned to Carlos.

“Charles,” you swallowed, legs shaking as he focused all his energy on your clit. Rubbing the nub beneath the pads of his fingers.

“Oui, mon amour?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, it was an act. Nothing about this, about him, was sweet. He lifted his head, nose brushing against yours as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Tell me what you want.”

It took a second, but you managed to form a single coherent thought, forcing the name out through clenched teeth, knowing just how much it would get under Charles’ skin.

“Carlos.”

Charles had the audacity to laugh. His lips hovered over yours, barely touching, but close enough that you found yourself trying to lean forward to connect them.

“Wrong answer.”

Without warning, Charles’s hand dipped further and he plunged two fingers inside of you. He watched with a smug look on his face as your jaw fell open and a helpless inhale was all that came from you. You attempted to clench your legs together but Charles made sure that his knee kept them apart as he slowly started to slide his digits in and out.

“You always take me so well, don’t you?” His praise sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core. He kissed your jaw softly, “So tight, Y/N. Does Carlos not know how to fuck you?”

He wasn’t looking for an answer. And it wasn’t like you were in the state of mind to give him one. Charles curled his fingers inside of you and your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to get as much out of this as you possibly could.

He was relentless with his fingers and stubborn in the way he held your wrists above your head when all you wanted to do was touch him. Each time his fingers entered you it was driven by fury and lust, a dangerous combination that you knew so well.

He was purposely keeping his lips off of you now, wanting to watch you crumble from just his fingers alone. He’d tease you with his breath hitting your lips, or grazing his mouth along your jaw, but he wouldn’t give you what you desperately wanted.

This was a game to him. Bring you to the edge until you had no choice but to beg.

He added a third finger without so much of a thought, loving the way your walls clenched around him. Charles wished he didn’t have to use his fingers to fuck you, but he could be patient. He could play the long game tonight.

And then he stopped, his fingers deep inside you but refused to move them. You swallowed and attempted to rock your hips against his hand, but Charles wouldn’t budge.

“You’re too quiet,” he said, head slightly tilted. It was true, though. There were no helpless moans or whimpers coming from the back of your throat. No pleas to go faster, harder. You were biting your tongue and holding back.

It was because you didn’t want him to know how desperate you were. It was the last bit of pride you were holding onto, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe you just don’t turn me on the way you used to.”

He laughed cruelly as he started his assault on your pussy again, curling his fingers and getting just the right angle, knowing what you said was bullshit. Charles smirked, “We both know that's a lie.”

“Fuck me,” Your head fell back against the wall, your legs were shaking. Charles was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Ask nicely and maybe I will.”

“I’m not asking you for anything.”

“That’s fine, mon amour,” Charles dragged his thumb over your clit and that familiar sensation started to build in your centre. “I will happily watch you cum all over my fingers again, and again, and again, until you forget your own name.”

He rammed his fingers in you again, picking up his pace.

“Or better yet,” Charles left a delicate kiss right below your ear, applying more pressure to your clit, “Until you forget his name.”

That should not have been what did it for you, Charles dragging your relationship through the dirt, but the second those words left his mouth you were gone.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. What was worse was the strangled moan you failed to keep back that was music to Charles’ ears. You pulsed around him and he continued to fuck you with his fingers through it all, not letting up until you were shaking and even then he just brought them to a halt and left them inside you.

Charles released the grip he had on you and your wrists were sore and tender. You didn’t have to look at them to know how red they were, and in all honesty, the pain you’d feel tomorrow was the last thing on your mind.

You were breathless, staring up at Charles and trembling each time one of his fingers brushed against your sensitive walls. He leaned forward, once again hovering his lips over yours, both of you wondering who would make the move to close the gap once and for all.

Him fingering you was one thing. It was pure sexual tension built up over the course of god knows how long. But by kissing him, this moment would become so much more intimate. Less lust, more desire. A kiss was supposed to be shared with the person you loved, it was supposed to make you feel safe and adored.

And you didn’t love Charles.

But you kissed him anyway.

With his hand still down your pants, you took that daring step to press your lips against his. It was rough and frantic and your tongues were clashing as you held onto the side of his face, relishing in the feeling of his stubble beneath your fingers.

Charles didn’t let you enjoy this for very long. He pulled back, keeping your jaw between his forefinger and thumb as he forced your mouth open. His thumb traced along your lower lip and as he slowly slid his fingers out of you, past your aching folds, you recognised the deviant look in his eyes.

Charles brought his fingers, soaked with your juices, up to your lips. The sight of you licking yourself off of him turned him on more than anything else ever could. This was a mess he created and you were cleaning it up, without so much as a verbal instruction.

He forced his fingers into your mouth, suppressing a moan when your tongue swirled around his digits. He could see the tears well up in yours as he pushed them as far back as his knuckles would allow, getting off on the control he held over you.

That’s all it ever was. Charles needed to be in control. You wouldn’t have had a problem with that if that desire of his didn’t extend past the bedroom, but it always did.

Charles pulled his fingers out of your mouth when he noticed you struggling to breathe around them.

It was safe to say that neither of you what to do next. This wasn’t like all of the other times you fought and made up with sexual acts. You weren’t supposed to be his to fight with anymore. You shouldn’t have caved as quickly as you did.

He wasn’t holding you anymore. Nothing was keeping you from pushing him away and heading towards the door. You could storm out of here and pretend like none of this happened, like your boyfriend's teammate wasn’t just knuckles deep inside of you.

But you didn’t leave.

You stood with your back against the wall, eyes locked on Charles as the same thoughts ran through his mind. He didn’t want you to leave. The longer he kept you here, the more time you spent away from Carlos. Fuck Carlos, he thought. Fuck his teammate for stealing you from him.

Charles still wanted to hear you beg.

All it took was a microscope raise of his eyebrows and you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Charles feverishly reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body, swearing under his breath when he saw the red lace bra you had on. That you wore for Carlos.

It had to go.

Before he could rip the material off of you, you grabbed his shirt and peeled it off his body. If you were shirtless, it was only fair that he was too.

And then it was a race to see who could get the others clothes off fastest. Charles’ lips attacked your neck as he pushed your jeans down as much as he could, relying on you to step out of them and kick them to the side. You unzipped his joggers and he stepped out of them, hearing him groan when you palmed his painfully hard dick through his briefs.

He cupped your panties, feeling how soaked you were through them. He had half a mind to fuck you against the wall, but he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted that easily.

Charles had to fight with himself to step away from you and when he did you were confused. You stood with your back against the wall as you watched him walk backwards towards the bed, the outline of his cock constricted against the thin material.

He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread as they hung off the end of it. His palms rested against the blanket as he leaned backwards and nodded his head, gesturing you to follow.

And you did. Of course you did. Charles was intoxicating as much as he was toxic. You couldn’t get enough and for that reason alone, he would be the death of you.

You stood between his legs, arms draped over his shoulders as Charles took in the sight of your body, your curves that he had had memorised, the red lace that was giving him a headache.

He reached around you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. Your fingers became tangled in his hair as he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers, pinching it until you moaned in pleasure, or pain, or both.

Charles kept his hand on you, continuing to fondle and show attention to one of his favourite parts of you as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the spot right between your breasts.

He was being uncharacteristically slow. Something that never lasted, but you didn’t let yourself think about it as Charles took your other nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like he had done so many times before. When he grazed his teeth over you, your knees momentarily buckled. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs again and you needed him to do something about it.

You dropped your knee to the edge of the bed, ready to straddle him, but Charles had other plans in mind. He stared up at you, devilishly handsome, dark hair pulled in all sorts of directions, an unruly sight that was making you want to drop to your knees.

And you probably would have, had he not spun you around and pulled you to sit on his lap. Charles could feel how wet you were as you soaked through your underwear and onto his bare thigh. He used one hand to force your legs apart as the other found your neck, not yet applying any sort of restraint but it was only a matter of time.

You were so focused on what Charles had in store for you that when he gave you a second to compose yourself, you found that you were staring directly at your own reflection. There was a mirror across from the bed. Charles wanted a show.

The sight of you settled on his thigh, his hand around your throat as the light caught the bulging muscles in his arm almost made you cum again. He was watching you, eyes glued to yours in the reflection.

“You’re going to ride me, chérie, understand?” Charles raised his lips to your ear, dragging his teeth over the lobe and you shivered in response. You could see his sly smile in the mirror, “You’re going to watch yourself as you get off just from my thigh.”

All you could do was nod. You weren’t in any position to argue, nor did you want to.

So slowly, you started rocking your hips back and forth atop his leg, clenching where you could to feel any bit of friction. You found a steady pace, one that seemed to suffice as Charles watched silently, jaw locked and eyes never leaving yours.

You wished you didn’t have your underwear on still, but that was half of the tease. Charles knew how desperate you were to feel his hard thigh against your folds, bringing you to the edge, but he also knew that you wouldn’t last if that was the case. He needed you to work for it.

He grabbed your chin and roughly turned your face towards him, temporarily pulling your eyes off of the mirror.

And then he was kissing you. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue diving inside of your mouth like he owned it. His suppressed groan only encouraged you to rock your hips faster, which you did. The ache between your legs was borderline painful as you became overstimulated, desperate to find that second high so soon after your first.

Charles wasn’t going to help you at all. The most he did was trail his hand up your body, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your sensitive nipples until you cried out against his lips. Your body had been tense since you first stepped into his hotel room and now you were feeling all of your energy being sapped. And he hadn’t even fucked you.

“Please,” your helpless whisper against his lips earned you a wicked smirk in response.

“Please what?”

His dick was rock hard against you and you wanted it inside of you. It wasn’t fair that he was making you wait for it when you knew he was just as desperate to fuck you.

You hadn’t even noticed you stopped moving until Charles landed a light slap to your cheek, “I didn’t say you could stop.”

You fell into that rocking motion again. His grip on your breast was tight and it took all of you not to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you either had two choices. Look at him or look in the mirror.

You opted for the mirror, looking at how dishevelled you were. Faded mascara under your eyes. Red marks on your neck from where Charles held his grip. The girl in the mirror was desperate for a release, swaying back and forth on Charles’ thick thigh.

It was the worst possible time for Charles’ phone to start ringing.

“Leave it,” your voice almost caught in your throat, but you were in no position to be making any demands. Charles kept one hand on you as he reached backwards, grabbing the phone he had left on his pillow before you showed up.

The glint in his eye was unmistakable. His smirk, mischievous. Usually Charles didn’t have a problem letting his calls go to voicemail, but he wasn’t about to do that and you knew why when you caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing your boyfriend's name on the caller ID.

Your heart sank to your stomach, but Charles sliding his hand towards your core was a good distraction.

“Don’t,” now you were begging, but for all the wrong reasons. “Don’t answer it, please.”

“It could be important,” Charles’ tongue slid across his teeth. “I suggest you stay quiet, mon amour.”

And then he answered it, bringing the phone up to his ear, “Carlos, what’s up?”

You probably could have stayed quiet had Charles not dropped his hands past the seam of the red lace once more. He wasted no time in rubbing his fingers over your clit and you inhaled a sharp breath, watching him with worried eyes through the reflection.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” you could hear Carlos through the receiver. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your staggered breathing, “but you don’t know where Y/N is, do you?”

Charles looked so calm and collected as he answered. You wanted to slap the smug expression off of him, “No, why would I know?”

It shouldn’t have surprised you how believable he sounded. Charles knew how to lie, he did it frequently throughout your relationship. This was the first time you were part of his lie.

And then he slipped his finger inside of you again, something that he wasn’t originally going to do, but with Carlos calling, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He wanted you to squirm, to make a sound, to do anything that Carlos would hear and leave him questioning when he hung up the phone.

You brought your hand to your mouth to silence yourself and Charles’ devious smile only grew.

“She went out for a walk a while ago and she isn’t answering her phone now. I just want to make sure she's okay.”

You had completely abandoned your phone in your jacket pocket. It was sitting right by the door to the hotel room, forgotten about.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charles plunged a second finger inside of you and started to scissor them. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you could taste blood. Charles wasn’t going easy on you, he wanted you to be struggling right now.

You had stopped rocking, trying to gain a little bit of control as Charles kept you angled against his chest to keep his fingers in you. He wanted to feel you dripping all over his thigh. He wanted his fingers to glisten when he pulled them out.

“She could be lost-”

“Mate,” Charles cut him off harshly, simultaneously picking up the pace with his fingers. He so badly wanted to tell his teammate that you were safe, in good hands, falling apart on top of him. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re better off without her.”

Leave it Charles to degrade you to your boyfriend while he rammed his fingers inside of you so hard you could feel it in your stomach.

Carlos, bless his soul, you didn’t deserve him, scoffed into the phone, “Just let me know if you see her, okay?”

He pressed his thumb to your clit, meeting your stare in the mirror and taking a second before answering, just to bring you a little bit closer to the edge. Your legs were shaking, you could feel yourself climbing closer and closer to your release. Charles’ fingers in you, the attention he was giving your clit, the way he stared at you like he was challenging you to say something while he was on the phone, all of it was overwhelming in the best, and worst, ways.

There was no singular thought in your mind except his fingers, and how good they felt, and how badly you wanted to cum. You clenched your walls around him and Charles momentarily forgot that Carlos was waiting for a response. The quietest groan passed his lips and he tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, will do,” Charles couldn’t hang up faster. He threw his phone to the side and focused all of his attention on your pussy. Dragging his fingers through your folds, rolling his thumb over your clit.

With his other hand finally free, he raised it to your neck once more. You barely had time to take a breath before you could feel the sides of your windpipe becoming constricted under the pads of his fingers. The lack of oxygen gave you a headrush. Charles was taking complete control as you continued to sit on his lap and fuck his fingers for the second time, all while watching in the mirror.

“You’re the worst,” you spoke through clenched teeth, dragging your hand up to tangle your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

Charles was unaffected by the words he had heard so many times before, “I told you to be quiet.”

A gasp left your mouth when he tightened his grip on your neck. You still attempted to find your voice “You- fuck, you didn’t want me to be quiet,”

He chuckled, “You’re right.”

His abuse on your clit became heavier as he pulled his fingers out of you agonisingly slowly. He nudged his leg against you, instructing you to get back to riding his thigh, you weren’t supposed to have stopped.

“I can’t help it that I love the sounds you make for me,” he was practically growling. “I wanted Carlos to hear, he’s probably never heard them before.”

You stayed quiet, feeling all logic leave you as it became increasingly harder to catch your breath or keep your eyes on him.

Charles loosened his grip for a split second, just to give you a break, “Answer me when I talk to you. Carlos doesn’t know how to make you feel this good, does he?”

You shook your head, stammering out a quiet, “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” his hand tightened around your throat, constricting your airways once more.

The only sound that filled the room was your occasional whimpers between breathless moans of pleasure. Charles continued to praise you quietly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked getting off from riding his thigh. It was the praise combined with his suffocating grip that brought you to edge but it was the way he feverishly rolled his thumb over your clit that pushed you over.

You came undone on his lap, your panties absolutely soaked as your pussy convulsed while waves of pleasure coursed through you. Charles let go of your throat and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, pulling on his hair as you rode out the rest of your high.

Charles waited a few seconds before taking your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, it was one of those rare gentle moments you two shared between rounds.

“You think you have one more in you?” He asked, barely moving his mouth from yours. You couldn’t speak, but you could nod and you felt his lips curve into a smile, “Good girl.”

He flipped you around and got you situated at the top of the bed, your head falling back onto the pillows. Charles finally discarded the last bit of red lace you wore, they were absolutely ruined at this point, and he pulled his briefs off as well.

If you had the energy in you, you would have reached for him, attempted to give him a half-assed hand job or possibly taken him in your mouth, but all you could do was lay there and watch as he fisted his hand around his already hard cock.

Charles pushed your legs apart until you were on full display for him. You were staining the hotel sheets with how wet you were, not like either of you cared.

None of this mattered, it was all fucking stupid. The way the two of you ended up crawling back to each other after eight months of moving on was stupid. The way you found yourself desperate for him to fuck you after fingering you twice was stupid. The way Charles wanted to stare at you just a little bit longer because he knew this opportunity would never come again was stupid. All of it.

Charles shifted towards you, dropping his body on top of yours but using his arm to keep himself propped up. You could feel the tip of his dick run through your folds, teasing you, because that’s all he seemed to know how to do.

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Charles whispered, staring down at you with a look that was filled with lust and loss, a combination you hadn’t seen before with him.

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” you retorted, not about to take the sole blame for the situation you found yourselves in.

“I’ll always let you in.”

There it was. The sprinkle of good hidden beneath the cascading tsunami of bad.

“Don’t say that,” you shook your head, swallowing when he inched his cock into you slowly, taking his goddamn time because he knew how much you hated it.

“I mean it.” Charles’ voice was hoarse as you watched his features tighten. He pressed his forehead against yours, sliding out again right before you could feel all of him. “We could have been good together, Y/N, we could have worked through our problems. Instead you ran directly to Carlos.”

You didn’t entertain that idea for a second. The two of you would have never been on the right terms. Years of couples counselling couldn’t fix what went wrong. You were each other's worst nightmare, your own individual walking red flags that should have been avoided at all costs.

But that was Charles’ favourite colour and you looked the best in it.

“Carlos loves me,” you said, which was most definitely the wrong thing to say as Charles dragged the tip of himself over your centre again.

He laughed, of course he laughed. Carlos loved you and yet here you were, about to let your ex-boyfriend, Carlos’ teammate, fuck you because you couldn’t work out your issues in a healthy way.

“And where is he now, hmm?” Charles asked, eyes darting all over your face. “More importantly, why aren’t you with him, chérie?”

You didn’t have an answer. Which was better for Charles anyway. He didn’t want to give you the chance to change your mind about what was to come next.

With no warning, and a quick snap of his hips, he rammed his dick inside of you. Despite how many times he had fucked you before, you never seemed to get used to his size. Charles stretched you out, making you gasp in relief of the feeling of finally being full. You loved his fingers, but they just didn’t compare.

“Carlos can’t fuck you like I can, that’s why,” Charles answered his own question as your nails grazed his back before clenching onto his bicep. He kept at this steady pace for less than a minute, watching as your face twisted in pleasure, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

Your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out suddenly. He would always fucking do this.

“Charles,” you groaned, mostly due to annoyance but your tone carried a delicate plea. That’s what he wanted after all, for you to beg for him. You swallowed your pride, you had no choice, “Please.”

“Please, what?”

You were throbbing for him and his dick teasing your entrance did nothing to help.

“For the love of God, Charles, just fuck me already.”

That was as close to a beg as he was going to get.

Charles slammed back into you, so hard and fast that a scream left your throat. God you hoped these walls were soundproof. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out.

Your body couldn’t take it after already coming twice. Your legs shook beneath him as you clawed his back, digging your nails so deep into his skin you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood.

Charles knew your body, he knew what angles to go from to hit all the right spots. Searing pleasure mixed with the pain from overstimulation had you helpless, but this was what you wanted.

You looked up at him, recognising the familiar animalistic stare in his eyes. Charles reached above you to grip onto the headboard, his pace never faltering. You don’t know what came over you as you brought your hand to his cheek, but you watched as his gaze softened for that brief second.

Charles liked it rough, but you still craved that bit of tenderness to balance it out. Even as you took your anger out on each other, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. You wanted to swallow his breaths and pretend that for a minute, everything was fine.

You pulled his face towards yours and kissed him before you could think twice about it. His tongue fought yours and you felt his thrusts becoming unsteady. A sound emerged from the back of his throat as you kissed him like there was no tomorrow and you swore you could have came for a third time right then.

Charles dropped his face to your neck when he felt himself starting to experience something other than lust and jealousy. He didn’t want to be craving you again, he didn’t want to fall back into this cycle.

“I fucking hate what you do to me, you know that right?”

“I know,” you dragged your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, body quivering when he kissed the spot below your ear. “And you know I hate you, right?”

“Oh I know,” He accentuated his words with a particularly hard thrust that had you reeling and it was only a few seconds later when you were seeing stars for the third time that night.

Your orgasm was earth-shattering. Almost like the entire world around you paused while waves of euphoria crashed through your entire body. Charles continued to fuck you through your high as you screamed his name, holding his body tight against yours.

Your pussy clenched around him as you shook with pleasure. Everything about you felt numb as Charles continued his violent thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall. He didn’t plan on slowing down, desperate to fuck the literal living daylight out of you for one last time, before you had to return to Carlos.

His dick twitched inside of you, followed by a string of French and English expletives under his breath against your skin. And then he was cumming too, releasing everything he had inside of you.

His body shook before he collapsed on top of your already exhausted body. Your heavy breaths were synchronised as you loosened your grip on his hair, switching to gently twisting your fingers through the dark strands instead.

Charles hummed into the crook of your neck and you braced yourself as he pulled out, wincing at how empty, and sore, you suddenly felt. You half expected Charles to stand up and go to the bathroom to give you the opportunity to leave without saying anything. You wouldn’t have even been surprised if he was blunt and told you to go back to Carlos.

But he rested his head on the pillow next to yours after pulling the covers over your bodies. He then turned your face gently so he could admire you and your post orgasmic glow. All lust behind his eyes had faded, replaced by something else now. Something you were never able to put a name to, something you once convinced yourself was love.

It was longing. A yearning desire for what used to be, what could have been. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You knew the right move would be to get up and leave. You fucked your anger out. Carlos was worried sick about you. You needed to leave.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Not as you watched Charles’ eyelashes flutter softly until they closed, his hand still resting on the side of your face. You turned slightly to kiss the inside of his palm, and climbing out of bed did cross your mind.

You probably would have, had Charles, in his half-asleep state, not muttered, “Stay.”

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep as well, the two of you facing each other throughout the duration of the night. At one point, his hand found your waist and that’s where it stayed. Charles lovingly touched you more in his sleep than he ever did while awake.

You could have stayed in that bed for hours with him, but you had a rude awakening when you heard your phone ringing from the bedside table. Charles groaned, having woken up too, but he just waved the call off, letting you deal with it.

Your eyes were still shut when your hand fumbled around the surface next to you until you found what you were looking for. You barely registered what you were doing or what time it was as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call.

You cleared your throat, “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

Carlos saying your name in response jolted you awake. Your eyes widened when his accent flowed through the phone, the concern evident in the way he said your name.

“Carlos,” you sucked in a breath. “I-, I’m sorry, I was out-” you didn’t even know what time it was. You were struggling to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t go back to the hotel room, something that he would believe, but nothing came to mind. “I didn’t- I mean-”

None of what you were saying made any sense, but as it would turn out, you didn’t need an excuse. There was a more pressing issue at hand.

His heavy breath had your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and you couldn't have prepared yourself for the next words to come out of his mouth.

“Why are you answering Charles’ phone?”

this is so long im so sorry, if you made it this far..see u in hell

masterlist here

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 x you #holllandtrash #nsfr #im so sorry #f1 requests #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader

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mommymccabe · 8 months

Note

Ooh, ive got one, Katie McCabe x reader, where Katie basically spends every bit of free time shes not training or with friends flirting with and trying to fluster the reader despite her stormy stoic nature and it turns out the reader is just a really big softie for katie but tries really hard to hide it in front of the others. That's not all I've got for it, but I'll leave it entirely for you to perceive and deduce the plot and stuff 😅

Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing

Summary: Katie is always getting under your skin, you finally get her back.

Word count: 800

an: i apologise for the wait, i’ve been sick and had no motivation but im working through the requests. hope you enjoy :) x

________________________________

Training today had been exhausting and really took it out of you. As you and Leah walk to the change rooms, you feel someone run up behind you and wrap their arms around you. You jump and scream, trying to get away until you hear;

‘Calm down y/l/n, it’s just me.’ Katie says with a smirk.

You turn and face her with an unimpressed look on your face.

‘Katie stop fucking doing that. You give me a heart attack every time.’ You whine

‘But it’s so so funny to see you freak out.’ Katie laughs, Leah joining her.

You turn to look at your best friend.

‘Really? Rude!’ You yell.

Leah simply shrugs at you before continuing walking to the change rooms, you and Katie following closely behind.

‘You know, you looked really hot out there. Gotta say, watching you run around and just dominate. Very attractive’ The Irish woman states from beside you.

She always does that, makes comments like that to get under your skin, get a rise out of you. It always works. You always end up a blushing, shy mess despite trying your best to keep your composure. She just does something to you, it’s hard to explain.

You don’t make eye contact with her as you continue walking, you hear Leah let out a giggle in front of you and as you arrive at the change rooms, a loud bang is followed by a loud;

‘Shut it Leah!’ from you, confusing the rest of the team in the change room.

As the three of you walk in, all eyes are on you, making your scowl disappear as you walk straight over to your locker and sit down. A quick moment of eye contact with everyone has them averting their gaze and focusing on what they’re doing.

‘So y/n, you free tonight?’ Katie asks with a smile.

‘Nope, got a hot date’ You reply quickly.

All eyes are back on you. You never go out, maybe to a team bonding night once a week but you rarely go anywhere to anyone else’s knowledge.

‘Oh yeah? what a lucky lady’ Katie says with a wink.

‘Whatever McCabe’ you mumble paired with an eye roll before looking at the ground, a small smile taking over your face.

You and Katie had been dating for 6 months, yet no one on the team knew, not even Leah. You felt bad for lying to your best friend but you wanted to get to know Katie on your own before making a big deal out of your relationship. But her nonstop comments and flirting makes you feel giddy and so in love. You try your best to hide it from the rest of the team but it’s getting harder.

‘You’re going on a date!?’ Leah asks from your left.

‘Yes I am. Is that really surprising? Jeez thanks guys’ you mumble with a laugh.

‘Yeah! It is! You never go anywhere, must be one special gal’ Caitlin pipes up from across the room and her and Steph share a look.

‘Nah, she’s okay’ you say nonchalantly, watching Katie out of the corner of your eye.

You watch her roll her eyes before she quickly says,

‘I could treat you better’ with a cocky smirk as she makes eye contact with you, arms resting on her knees, showing off her muscular arms. The sight has you starstruck. You can’t help but admire her beauty and body. Damn were you lucky. A quick blush takes over your face before you focus on packing your bag. You don’t respond and watch as everyone laughs at Katie’s confidence. You both talked about telling the team last night, you just didn’t expect her to be so bold with it and she definitely wasn’t expecting you to say;

‘Well, considering it’s you taking me out, i’m not sure it works like that, love’ you say with a proud smile on your face.

You watch with amusement as Katie is now the one blushing and stuttering. The team around you erupts with questions and shocked looks.

‘You two are dating??’ Leah nearly screams.

You just laugh before walking over to Katie, pulling her in for a quick kiss before walking out of the room.

‘What the actual fuck just happened’ Steph says as the room explodes with questions directed at Katie. You continue down the hall with a smile on your face followed by a;

‘Y/n you little shit’ as Katie leaves the room as quick as she can and catches up to you.

At least the team knows now.

_______________________________

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine

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taylorswiftbutsimp · 2 months

Text

Putting Down Roots

[Jealousy]

☆ Author’s note: I might make a series out of this >ᴗ< (any reqs L&DS is open!!)

✰ Warnings: low-key angst, angst to fluff, pregnant reader, tears, insecurity, second point of view, husband zayneeee

✰ synopsis: which reader has trouble understanding their emotions properly and Zayne reassures them it's okay to feel that way

✰ Word Count: 597

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“You've been ignoring me for a few hours now, wife. Do you want to talk about it?” Zayne replied as he sat down and turned to face you from across the bed

“I’m not ignoring you; in fact, I'm talking to you right now” You answered, doing your best to pretend everything seemed well

If it takes the two of you staying up all night to work out the tension, then so be it. Zayne understands you better than he knows himself

“Your lying my precious jasmine” He moved closer to you as he spoke softly while maintaining eye contact

You did not respond, debating with yourself over whether or not to brush it off and act coy with your husband

“Is it because of the intern?” Your pupils dilated as you realized Zayne was right

You had gone to the hospital earlier in the day, carrying lunch for him even though you had been scolded for roaming around the kitchen too much unsupervised—especially with a growing baby bump

You walked along the hallway to his office, where Yvonne told you he had just done a surgery with interns. Normally, you wouldn't give a damn who he was with, even if they tried to flirt with your husband

Because you knew deep down he loved you, and he was a cold man, you had to work your way into his heart even though he claimed you had him since you two were little

However, something changed today when you observed him heading to his office with a stunning woman you had never seen before, causing you to assume that she was one of the interns

Normally you would continue talking about your day with Zayne, but they looked amazing together. She's young and attractive, and she clearly takes care of herself

“Dr zayne care for a lunch?” You could hear her voice it was quite seductive with hint of flirty

You were standing a few inches away from them when he saw you in his peripheral vision as he was going to decline the offer and open his office

His gaze softened “my wife” you waddled making your way to him “did you walk all the way from here hm?” He asked giving your forehead a kiss

He then excused you both leaving the intern standing there from shock quiet uncomfortable of the situation she witnessed

“I cant lie to you can i?” You pouted pulling zayne closer wrapping your arms around his neck

"I know jealousy is a disgusting, green-eyed monster, but I can't help feeling this way, Zayne" pulling away from the hug and looking at his eyes with tears forming into the corner of your eyes

With tears running down your cheeks, Zayne hates to see you in this state. "I'm moody everything makes me think, i eat random foods that doesnt even sound well but taste so damn good and i think so little of myself"

“I hate to see you like this my wife being the reason of your crying in pain even i think im not worth for you” he whispered holding your right hand before giving it a soft peck

“Everyone can disappear from this world but not you i love you so much that you might as well take my heart”

You whimpered, cupping his cheeks. There was a pregnant pause between you both, but this one is warm—not the one with awkwardness or tension, just full of love and understanding

His soft lips touched into yours as he whispered praises in between, “You drive me crazy every time I might just show you tonight how”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

#ᗯiᒪᒪoᗯ #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #li shen #i have a problem #l&ds x reader

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megumimania · 3 months

Text

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES - ryomen sukuna

summary: your boyfriend hates modern technology.

warnings: sukuna x fem reader, sukuna is an old hag (affectionately), sukuna not fucking with consumerism is he in his marxist era?🤔, sukuna is a softie when he wants to be, sukuna is ooc because i hate writing mean men :), yuji being a hottie is my fav hc of all time, i can’t believe im giving amazon free promo 😞.

notes: i missed you guys!

sukuna cant wrap his head around technology.

he doesn’t understand why companies sell ‘new’ phones every single year, when they perform the same exact functions as the previous one.

he doesn’t like how your coffee machine has too many buttons when all he wants in the morning is just a cup of black coffee to get him through the day. sukuna just prefers doing things the old fashioned way which makes him subject to teasing by you and his little brother yuuji.

he doesn’t care though, constantly talking about how he’s ‘escaped the matrix’ by not owning an up to date phone and only getting his news from the daily paper and tv. however his view on technology changed once you brought alexa home.

initially he thought that it was a speaker and was confused to why you bought another one. “it’s not just a speaker ryo,” you corrected him swiftly. “she’s a digital assistant that can tell you the time, the weather, recipes and she can even tell jokes.”

sukuna looked at you with the same wariness he’d give to a snake oil salesman. “can’t your phone do the same exact thing for less?” you knew he was lowkey right but your stubbornness refused to let him get the upper hand.

“that’s not the point babe.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, carrying the box to the kitchen counter and setting it down with a loud thump. “now if you’ll excuse me i’ll be busy setting my alexa up.” you huffed as you opened the instructions trying to make sense of them.

sukuna looked over at your focused expression. your brow furrowed with concentration as you read the instructions. it was simple really and within a couple of minutes the alexa was ready to go and by the joyous look of pride on your face sukuna knew that he was going to be in for one hell of a ride.

and unfortunately he was right.

life with an alexa was hell. sukuna barely got through the day without hearing the monotone female voice rattle off the hottest food spots or tell you a stupid joke that was suddenly the most funniest thing alive. he used to make you laugh like that!

he felt like the speaker was taunting him. hell he couldn’t even have some down time with you without that stupid speaker getting in the way. it was literally like he was third wheeling all the time and he hated it. you were his girlfriend first!

sukuna didn’t like being second best. especially to a glorified speaker.

you and sukuna were cuddling on the couch together after finishing a movie—terminator 2 to be exact. “so what do you think of the alexa?” you asked whilst the credits rolled, mindlessly stroking his cheek with your acrylic nails whilst he rubbed your legs.

sukuna tensed at the question as he tried to think of a way to answer without sounding like a complete asshole. “well…im not really a fan.” you could already tell from the dry tone and his poor attempt of acting unfazed that he was lying through his teeth.

“if that’s the case then why did i find it in the bathtub?” you pulled up the waterlogged alexa in a ziploc bag. sukuna would usually have a sarcastic reply in his arsenal but he was now looking at you as if he was a deer caught in headlights.

“fine, i used the damned thing.” he raised his hands up as he accepted defeat much to your surprise. “it fell into the bathtub when i was trying to stream that megan the stallion song yuuji told me to listen to. he said something about the song needing to go number 1 on the charts.”

you sat back in disbelief. you didn’t know whether to be annoyed, angry or smitten with him. “i’m glad yuji is helping you become more cultured but why did my alexa have to die for such a good cause!” you wailed dramatically collapsing on the floor, clutching the alexa to your chest.

sukuna lifted you off the floor with such ease it almost made you jealous. “stop whining i already ordered another one. it should be coming in a few days.” he said with his usual gruff tone that was laced with softness, peppering kisses down your neck.

you giggled as his stubble tickled your skin. “that was quick, you missed it that much already?” you teased him whilst you hooked your arms around him running your nails down the nape of his neck.

sukuna rolled his eyes at your playful expression. “i’m still anti technology, don’t be fooled.” one thing sukuna was to his core was a hater but like most haters he rarely stood on business.

“whatever you say babe.” you hummed biting back a smile. you and sukuna knew give or take two months that he’d change his opinion about it.

#vina writes: jjk #vina writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x female reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna x black reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna

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simp4wom3n · 3 months

Text

The Quiet One Pt V

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary:With Ghostface closing in on them, Act 3 finally begins as everyone teams up to hopefully once and for all take them down. ~ Word Count: 9.8k ~ Warnings: descriptions of gory injuries, blood, and anything that comes with Scream, Scream VI spoliers!!, hella swearing

A/N: OMG HEY!!!! IM BACK!!! It has been such a ridiculously long time since I have written, and I'M SO SORRY. Life really got in the way for a while, but I am back. This fic is so damn long it took me ages, but I hope it's everything you guys wanted. I love you all! COME ON MOTHERF*CKER!!

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

Stepping onto the brisk streets of New York, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, painting a rosy hue on your nose and cheeks. The gentle breeze caressed your scar, providing needed relief to its subtle throbbing as you walked hand-in-hand with Tara, who was engrossed in conversation with her sister, while the rest of the group led the way to the station. Eyes scanning your surroundings hastily, your brain attempted to adjust to your new vision as you watched people walk past, utterly oblivious to the psycho that was tormenting their city.

You had never been more jealous.

While meeting Tara was undoubtedly the best part of your life, walking nonchalantly down a busy street at night without checking your shoulder regularly sounded pretty nice. Was it worth throwing your love for Tara away for? Absolutely not, yet you would be lying if you said there wasn't a little voice in the back of your mind that liked to remind you how every day your life could've been - especially after everything you've suffered, as if Woodsboro wasn't enough.

As if sensing your discomfort, Tara paused her conversation with her sister to glance at you worriedly, her eyes scanning your rigid posture and distant eyes moving too fast for her to track. She squeezes your hand to grab your attention as your eyes finally meet hers, your lone e/c eye standing out against its pale white counterpart. "You okay?" she whispers softly, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Yeah," you sighed dejectedly, "just kinda wishing I had a normal life... you know, without all this Ghostface shit".

You watched as Tara's face fell slightly at your words, causing you to panic, "It's not your fault! I love you and everyone here. I just hate worrying about who will be alive in the morning." Her expression was slightly lifted as a small smile formed on her lips, but guilt continued to gnaw at her eyes. You could hear her whisper, "Yeah, I get it", as she briefly looked away to look at others a few metres ahead of you. She lets go of your hand with a comforting squeeze as she quickens with each step. "I'll be right back."

Watching as she walked off, a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled your attention from the small girl now talking to Mindy. "Did I say something?" you ask, knowing it was Sam standing next to you. "No, she just likes to run off sometimes," she jokes lightheartedly, a slight chuckle falling from your lips. "Tell me about it.". Mindy glances back at you as Tara approaches Chad and Danny. "She's a difficult girl to understand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that she loves you. It's a little obsessive, honestly." Your cheeks flush as you look at Sam questionably, "Sam being sentimental? Never thought I'd live to see that." "Oh shut up" she shoves your shoulder playfully as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

Curious, you gaze at Tara as she returns to her position beside you, intertwining your hands without hesitation. You enquire softly, "What was that all about?" while she keeps her gaze fixed on the approaching station stairs. "Nothing. I just needed to talk to them about something.". Despite feeling it was about you, as said friends kept looking over their shoulders at you, you stopped yourself from pushing it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the station, you were greeted by an overwhelming influx of people, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes. Mindy steps back from the group in front to stand by your side as you take in your surroundings for the first time. Like you, she looks through the crowds, her expression more serious than you're used to on her. You excused her unusual behaviour until you both walked into someone who stared at you wide-eyed, horrified by your scar.

"What the fuck are you looking at?! Fuck off! Jeez... some people."

Now, you were the one who had to look at Mindy with wide eyes. This type of aggression was uncommon for the typically gentle and humorous girl, so the fact that she even displayed it, especially to defend you, it shocked you, to say the least. "Damn, Mindy… thanks," you muttered under your breath as Mindy returned your timid smile, "They deserved it."

Walking further onto the platform, the group waited momentarily whilst the train came to a stop and the doors opened. With tons of people trying to squeeze through the small doors to fit in the tiny space left on the packed train, it became a free-for-all. It happened in a blur; your hand separated from Tara's as Danny dragged her onto the train, leaving you and Mindy amongst the wave of people.

Amidst the chaos of people jostling your shoulders, your attention shifted away from Mindy's presence and focused solely on reaching a concerned Tara. Mindy's frustration became evident through the curse words she hurled at those around you. As you pushed your way towards your girlfriend, an obnoxious person dressed as Ghostface forcefully pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble onto the train and into Tara's embrace, the girl grunting softly at the impact. The echo of Mindy's furious tirade filled the air as you finally turned to witness her forcefully pulling off their mask.

Tucked in Tara's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped your lips at the scene before you. That was until the doors of the train started to close. "Shit… Mindy!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you as you desperately try to reach the door, only to be held back by Tara. You watch Mindy's sudden realisation of the closing doors, a loud 'fuck' escapes her lips as she tries to navigate through the remaining crowd in her path.

The doors shut just as she's about to reach them.

You pound your fist against the door in frustration, mirroring the same exasperated look on Mindy's face. Grabbing your phone, you motioned for her to do the same through the glass as you texted her. The whine of the train starting to move fills your ears as Tara pulls you closer, her body wrapped around your free arm.

In the midst of all the chaos, it escaped your attention that Ethan had also managed to miss the train, although you couldn't quite fathom how. Your phone dings with a text from Mindy. "She's taking the train right after us with Ethan," you inform the group, slipping your phone into your back pocket and releasing a quiet sigh.

"She'll be okay. She's Mindy." Tara comforts you softly, gently stroking your arm as you gaze down at her, nodding in response. You embraced your girlfriend in a tender and heartfelt hug. You were burdened with guilt. You're not sure where this sudden protective nature had come from, and although your heart felt some relief knowing that she cared, you couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

She was protecting you, and look where that got her.

Letting go of Tara, you gently kissed her forehead and intertwined your hand with hers. Until now, you were completely absorbed in your thoughts, oblivious to the tension brewing within the group. Taking your gaze off your girlfriend, the source of said discomfort became obvious.

Ghostface.

Everywhere.

"Oh, what the fuck" you cursed as Tara's grip on your hand tightened. Everywhere you looked, there were individuals wearing the costume that perpetually plagued your nightmares, and their unwavering gazes seemed to be fixated on you. "Why are there so many of them?" Chad asked, his frustration evident in his voice as he, too, grew tired of encountering the same pale mask wherever he went.

Everyone's faces are ridden with anxiety. "How many stops do we have?" Tara inquired with a heightened sense of urgency, eager to get off the train just like the rest of you. Sam gazes at the map, undoubtedly internally pleading that it's not too many. Looking back at the group, she hesitates slightly, revealing the news couldn't be good. "Ten", she speaks solemnly. Tara's eyes are filled with concern as you exchange worried glances, causing your heart to race at an abnormal speed.

The subway lights start flickering, intensifying the eerie atmosphere inside the train. Your vision, already impaired, struggled to follow every Ghostface amidst the flickering lights. It became nearly impossible for you to keep track of them, adding to the waves of anxiety that were rushing over you.

As the train came to a halt, the lights flickered into a steady glow, and a voice over the intercom announced your arrival at 79th Street. In a matter of seconds, as you glanced down the carriage, your gaze met that of one of the masked individuals. Your face fell. A sense of fear filled the air, your breath catching in your throat as both of you remained motionless, captivated by the piercing gaze of those intense black eyes.

As if they had never been there, your intense gaze was interrupted when they vanished behind someone getting on the train. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you scanned the area, desperately searching for any sign of them, but your efforts proved futile. The others remained clueless about what you just saw as the train started to move again, the lights resuming their irritating flickering.

You pulled Tara closer to you as the carriage grew dim, the silhouettes of your friends becoming the only discernible shapes in the darkness. With a tender embrace, she places her hand on your back, tracing soothing circles that bring you a sense of calm. You locked your gaze on the floor as the cabin continued to flicker around you.

"This is 72nd Street", the announcer speaks monotonously, the train coming to a stop as you look up from the floor, noticing your girlfriend's concerned gaze directed towards you. Attempting to avoid her gaze, your sight lands back on the Ghostface from before, again staring daggers at you. You try to maintain an equally stern gaze, which you manage until they start moving towards you at pace.

"Guys", you quickly inform the others about the imminent danger. The atmosphere instantly tense up as all eyes fixate on the approaching figure. Tara and Chad both step forward to protect you. The Ghostface suddenly stops right in front of you, causing your friends to freeze in an effort to avoid giving away any reaction, just in case it's not the real killer.

Attacking a perfectly innocent person on a New York subway was the last thing you needed, especially with the rumours surrounding Sam.

With a sudden and effortless motion, the person in front of you removes their mask, making Chad flinch. Instead of those frightening black eyes, a teenage girl's soft brown eyes fixated on you, brimming with a curious intensity that seemed almost unhinged.

"Holy shit, your makeup is so good! I saw it from across the train, but, oh my god, it looks so much better up close. How did you do it?" she chirps out in excitement. You freeze, immediately recognising she is talking about your scar.

Your perfectly real scar.

You find yourself speechless, unable to form a response as the unexpected question catches you off guard. Without hesitation, the girl extends her hand towards your face, her fingers inching closer to your scarred face. Taken aback, you witness Chad's hand swiftly grasping the girl's wrist with a firm grip. The expression on the girl's face is filled with surprise, whilst Chad displays determination.

"Get away from her before I make you." Your eyebrows raise slightly at his words, your lips quirked into a small smile as you revelled in your friends' newfound sense of protectiveness.

It made you feel human again.

You softly thank Chad, who gives you a curt nod and a smile as your face lights up with a smile that hadn't adorned your lips for many days. Since Ghostface's return, your life has been completely turned upside down. Your friends began to turn against you as the blame game singled you out as its victim, tearing apart the very essence of your being.

However, at this moment, as you bear the marks of your past and the lasting impact it has had on you, a newfound determination surges through your veins as you observe the individuals surrounding you.

These were your people. Your family.

You were determined to go to any lengths to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for their sake.

With your hands still interlocked, you finally emerge from the sweaty train and lead the way up the stairs, closely followed by Tara and the others. You quicken your pace up the weathered stairs, your gaze searching for a blonde who had agreed to meet you here. A voice you recognise calls to you as you reach the peak of the staircase. "Hey," you hear her say, your eyes meeting Kirby's as you shift your gaze towards the woman.

As she approaches, she effortlessly inserts herself into the group, seamlessly blending in as you all make your way towards the theatre. "I've talked to Bailey. I've got everything set up," she explains before noticing the lack of numbers in the group. "Where are Mindy and Ethan?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Clenching your jaw slightly at the reminder of the people you left behind, Tara jumps in to respond, "They're five minutes behind us."

"Let's get you all inside.", Kirby speaks, nodding in response before she redirects her attention to the theatre, which is now just a few steps in front of you. As the dilapidated structure looms before you, its imposing presence casts a shadow over the group. Everyone's steps come to a halt as Sam directs her attention towards Danny. "Not you."

Turning towards them, you watch as shock comes over Danny's face, "What?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Don't trust anyone, remember?" Sam speaks softly yet assertively. "We don't know you. Not really.". His face contorted with hurt as he leaned towards Sam. "You know me," he said, trying to convince her to let him protect her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry." Whilst you felt bad for Danny, despite knowing that Sam would never willingly let anyone protect her, the revelation that being part of Woodsboro meant you were trusted filled a small part in your heart that you weren't aware was missing.

Releasing Tara's hand, you gently wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as you watch the interaction. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile graces Tara's lips, a sign that she's starting to see the return of the girl she loves after the emotional and physical turmoil you've both endured over the past few days.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it." Danny finally speaks up. "Be safe, okay?" he pleads Sam, leaning in and kissing her cheek tenderly while delicately caressing her arms. Sam's face reveals a hint of guilt as she replies, "You too." before swiftly turning around and continuing walking. The rest of you cast sympathetic glances at Danny before joining the girl on the way to the theatre.

"Good call."

As Kirby unlocks the doors with a reverberating clank, a surge of nervousness courses through you as the doors swing open, revealing the dimly lit theatre. With Tara clinging tightly to your side, a sense of unease washes over you as you cautiously enter the room, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I cleared the whole place before you got here. This is the only way in or out." Despite your best efforts to pay attention, Kirby's words seemed to go unnoticed as you surveyed the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease growing within you.

"So, this is the only way in or out. He steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside. We turn it into a kill box." Kirby continues to explain enthusiastically, clearly entertained by the fact that this is finally her chance to bring one of these psychos to justice. "Weapons?" Sam questions. "One gun and I hold onto it." Sam gives Kirby a disapproving look, but before she can say anything, Kirby interrupts her, "I'm the only one with a badge here. That's the way it's going to be. We're safe here."

As much as you want to believe what she says, this was Ghostface you were dealing with. Despite the lingering uncertainty, you made an honest attempt to maintain trust in the plan's success, not only for your own sake but also for the sake of the others, particularly Tara.

"I'm gonna check in with Mindy. See if they're close." Sam interrupts, breaking the suspenseful silence that had fallen amongst the group. As Sam walks away and Chad follows, Tara squeezes your hand for your attention. "Come with me?" "Of course", you reply softly. She guided you to the old confectionary stand, a room that had unexpectedly become an escape for the two of you, as it felt like the only safe spot in the entire building.

Besides, it was Tara. You would follow her wherever she went.

"When was the last time anybody used this place? It's so old," Tara comments as you walk through the door. Although not well-maintained, the room decor still manages to evoke a strange sense of comfort as you softly chuckle at her words. "Yeah," you respond softly as you both make your way to the counter, gently letting go of Tara's hand and resting your elbows on it.

As you spot an old box of Milk Duds across the counter, your hand instinctively reaches out to grab them, only for your hands to collide with the girls next to you. A faint blush tinges on your cheeks as her hand pulls back, causing a soft chuckle to escape your lips, "I-I'm sorry, you can have them". You apologise, holding the box towards her, a hint of nervousness evident as you gently bite your lower lip. She pushes your hand back towards you with a slight smirk. "Take them."

"No, I mean…" you stuttered, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as you savoured the rare moment alone you'd shared with her for a while. "If you want them, you have them," you eventually finish. "You think I want these?" she chuckles, prompting a shared embarrassed laughter between the two of you. Your eyes lock, smiles forming on your faces, entirely captivated by each other. "Kind of", you joke, raising your eyebrows at her. "They're like a hundred years old. Maybe that's your thing."

Your soft laughter trails off into a comfortable silence as you look down at your hands, your heart racing, but this time from a much more pleasant catalyst. "I really missed you. I don't know why I told you to back off." You smiled gently at her, tears starting to well in your eyes. "I was so stupid. This whole time, all I really needed was you."

The more she spoke, the more flustered you got. Instead of enjoying the sentiment, you couldn't help but let your mind destroy it.

You're different from the person she is talking about.

She fell in love with the girl whose face wasn't mutilated and would probably scare off young kids. Whilst Tara and your friends could look past it, understanding the trauma you had gone through, you would never be able to walk down the Street without being met with horrified gazes from every direction. And even though Tara would undoubtedly try to protect you from it, you were convinced that her efforts would be futile.

"I'm not the same anymore," you said dimly. Tara frowned at you, gently taking hold of your trembling hand. "What do you mean?" "I just... someone mistook me for a Halloween costume for fucks sake... I'm not the same, and I never will be." You speak, deliberately avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend, as if her reaction would confirm the truth behind your words.

She could never see you the same.

Instead, her delicate touch caressed your cheeks, mindful of your scar, as she tenderly lifted your gaze towards her. Your teary eyes met hers as she looked at you with a tender smile. "Y/n... scar or no scar, you are still the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing will ever take you away from me, especially a scar that makes you look pretty badass if you ask me." you chuckle at her words, a few stray tears escaping, which she gently wipes away.

"I love you," she says, her gaze locked with yours, ensuring her words reach you. "I love you too," you speak with a chuckle, leaning closer to her as she wraps her hands around your neck and draws you in. The moment your lips connect, it feels like heaven. The taste of her lips is a sweet revelation, and you plan to savour every moment. The room seems to blur as the outside world dissolves, leaving only the two of you. The warmth between you intensifies, and a current of desire courses through your veins. Sinking deeper into the kiss, you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly as your lips begin to move.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your scar, causing you to pull back. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to suppress the pain, you eventually look towards your girlfriend apologetically as she looks at you worried. "Sorry," you chuckle lightly, "It's... still a little tender." You offer the girl a gentle smile as her hands glide down to your hips. "Don't say sorry. We'll just take it slow." Her seductive gaze locks with yours, setting your senses ablaze and causing a familiar blush to creep onto your cheeks. Briefly taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean in again. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

Or so you thought.

As your lips are seconds away from colliding, Tara's body is slammed into you as a scream erupts from her throat. Your eyes go wide in panic as you scream her name, only to see Ghostface standing behind her with a knife in her back. She is ripped from your grip as she is thrown to the ground. Although your instincts told you to help her, the masked individual who was now staring straight at you told you otherwise.

Without warning, their knife comes swinging towards you. Taking a swift step back, you barely dodge the blade as they go to swing again, their arm colliding with you. With a grunt, you harshly grip their arm before pulling them around you and throwing them into the wall. The shattering of glass from the poster frame intensifies the chilling encounter as another swing of the knife inches dangerously close to your face. Dodging the swing, you swiftly regained your footing and delivered a powerful punch to the psycho's face. As your fist made contact with their chin, they crumpled to the ground. As the cries of Tara echo in your ear, in a fit of anger, you direct your attention towards their fallen form and deliver a forceful kick to their stomach.

Frantically realising that there was little time they would be on the ground, you swiftly pivoted and rushed to your girlfriend's side, urgently helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the door. With a sudden burst, the door swings open, startling you as Sam and Chad's faces, filled with terror, appear on the other side, their expressions clearly reflecting the echoes of Tara's bone-chilling scream. They quickly notice your dire situation and urgently drag you from the room.

"Come on, go, go, go!" Sam screams as you run out of the room, and Chad slams the door behind you. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam yells at you, "No shit!" you scream back, desperate to get out of this place. Running towards the caged exit, you grip its rusted bars and pull at it desperately. "That's locked. Come on". Your face falls further, "Are we trapped?" you yell in disbelief. "She made the whole theatre the kill box. For us."

"Hey, what about that? There's an exit door." Tara directs everyone's attention to an opening on the roof, positioned just above a set of scaffolding. "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," you suggest, looking at your girlfriend, who nods in agreement. "There's only one way to find out. Let's go." Chad quickly takes the lead, leading the group towards your potential escape route.

"Bailey's on the way, but-" Sam's words are abruptly interrupted as Ghostface unexpectedly pounces on you from the shadows of the stage. Tara frantically tries to evade the swinging knife, ending up on the floor in an attempt to do so. Unfortunately, you are unable to do the same as the blade slices the side of your arm. You firmly grasp the wound on your arm as you clench your jaw in pain. You watch as the Ghostface continues to swing at Chad and Sam before Chad manages to tackle them onto the floor.

"Y/n! Come on." you hear your girlfriend exclaim, her voice filled with urgency, as you catch sight of her and Sam moving towards the stage. You swiftly move as Chad forcefully slams an old movie camera into their masked face, causing their head to snap back and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

Chad follows you with the camera in hand as you join the girls backstage, both of them looking around frantically for an exit. "This way! Come on!" Tara's voice echoes through the air as she swiftly dashes towards a small tunnel backstage. You eagerly trail behind her along the narrow path, acutely aware of the ominous footsteps of Ghostface closing in from behind. Until now, your lack of vision in one eye hadn't posed much of a problem. Yet, as you sprinted through the narrow pathway, you kept crashing into the walls while Chad struggled to guide you in the right direction.

As you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a chilling realisation washes over you - Ghostface is steadily closing in. "Fuck, they're fast," you exclaimed, as Chad also realised their proximity. "Get fucked", he shouted as he made the quick decision to hurl the bulky camera at them, immediately slowing them down.

With the additional advantage, you all made it back into the confectionary area as Chad threw the popcorn machine behind you. They quickly push it out of the way as you all turn around to face them. With a slight tilt of their head, they launch a series of aggressive swings towards you and Chad.

The knife narrowly misses both of you as you attempt to position yourselves for some kind of counterattack. Swinging down at Chad, he manages to grab their arm as you grab their shoulders, throwing them back onto the counter. Sam and Tara swiftly seize their arms, desperately trying to subdue them, while you deliver a decisive blow to their face, sending them crashing to the ground once more. As they fall to the ground, Tara quickly runs up to them and boots them in the face.

You couldn't help but think how hot it was.

"Go! Go!" Chad exclaims, swiftly grabbing the old bubblegum dispenser from the counter. With a determined gaze, he raises it above his head, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to Ghostface. Tara and Sam guide you away from him, leading you towards the door, expecting him to join you momentarily.

His piercing screams quickly disrupt the plan, causing everyone to turn their heads in disbelief. Your jaws hang open in shock as you see another Ghostface standing beside him, clutching a knife pierced in his side. "No! Chad!" Tara screams, sending a shiver down your spine. With Sam holding her back, you watch in suspense as the two masked figures surround Chad and lift him up to his knees.

They absolutely butchered him.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed the relentless onslaught. You watched him get stabbed over and over and over again as if it was never going to end. You were frozen to your spot. He somehow mustered up the strength to tell you to run, but no one could move. "Go," he sputters out, his determination to save the rest of you clear. In a swift and chilling motion, the Ghostfaces allow his lifeless form to crumple to the ground. With synchronised precision, they wipe their blades clean, sending a shiver down your spine.

Finally getting over your shock, you immediately grabbed the two sisters and dragged them out of the door. "This way. Up here. Come on." Sam directs your pointless running as she tries to get you both backstage. Before you can make it, one of the Ghostfaces pounces from behind the screen. Instinctively turning around, you are stopped immediately as the second Ghostface traps you, waving their knife mockingly.

You're surrounded. Whipping your head back and forth, you watch as they both close in on you, the tension in the air palpable. Thinking quickly, Sam assesses the situation with a determined glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she swiftly grabs some bricks from the debris-laden floor, handing one to you and another to Tara. In that instant, a silent understanding passes between you - do anything to survive.

As Sam moves the two of you so that you find yourselves back to back, forming an impromptu defensive triangle, the weight of the brick in your hand provides an unexpected but reassuring comfort. The cold surface of the brick grounds you, grounding your resolve as you prepare to face whatever unfolds.

"Ready?" Sam asks, and you swiftly reply, although Tara's distressed cries hinder her ability to respond, overwhelmed by panic and fear. "I need you to be ready. Ready?" With your free hand, you firmly grasp Tara's, offering a comforting squeeze while she inhales deeply. Her hesitation overwhelms Sam, prompting her to urge Tara to look at her. As Tara meets her gaze, a newfound determination fills her voice as she declares, "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!"

Just as the fight was about to begin, the deafening echoes of gunshots reverberated through the vast theatre, prompting an instinctive duck for cover. The ominous figures of the two Ghostfaces hastily retreat into the shadows, leaving an unsettling silence shattered only by your heavy breathing. In the dimly lit ambience, a figure emerges from the stage, and a collective gasp escapes the group as the familiar face of Kirby comes into focus, blood streaming down from a fresh wound on her temple.

"It's okay!" Kirby's voice rings out, a desperate attempt to reassure, though her pained expression reveals the gravity of the situation. The vivid red streams on her face contrast with her pale complexion, creating a chilling scene that leaves everyone motionless.

"Stay the fuck back!" Sam's voice pierces the tension, laced with a mix of fear and anger, earning a confused glance from Kirby, disoriented yet resolute. "We know it's you, Kirby," Tara adds, her tone unwavering as Kirby hesitantly approaches the group. "One of them knocked me out," Kirby pleads, her expression changing to one of desperation. Her eyes are genuine, making you want to trust her more, but your trust issues weren't easy to overcome.

"Kirby, stop!" A deep voice slices through the air, redirecting attention to Bailey, who strides into the theatre with a drawn gun, his gaze fixed on Kirby. "Get away from the girls!". The urgency in Bailey's command prompts an instinctive protective response as you push Tara behind you, eyes fixed on the unfolding standoff.

"What are you doing?" Kirby pleads desperately, the air thick with accusation and uncertainty. "Did you kill Quinn!? Did you kill my daughter!?" Bailey's vengeful glare intensifies, scaring the shit out of you.

He clearly wasn't afraid to kill for his kids.

"Jesus Christ!" Kirby exclaims, her eyes darting between you and the detective in disbelief. With her focus back on you, she pleads again, "Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him." The desperation in her gaze transforms into one of resolve as she turns back to the man threatening her. "He's probably the killer," she speaks assertively.

Your gaze remains fixed on Bailey, his expression unwavering even as the damning accusation hangs in the air. Suddenly, the figure of Ghostface appears behind Bailey, and Kirby's frantic scream fills the space, warning him of the imminent threat, "Behind you!" she screams. Disregarding her desperate plea, Bailey swiftly pivots and unleashes three deafening gunshots that pierce through the air, each shot finding its mark, striking Kirby in the chest, and causing her to crumple to the ground.

The aftermath is a haunting symphony of laboured breaths and the lingering echoes of her cries. As your focus shifts back to the killers, you watch in horror as two Ghostfaces stand alongside Bailey, their presence casting a sinister pall over the unfolding chaos. The dim lighting accentuates their ominous figures, while Bailey, wearing a sadistic smirk, reveals himself as an orchestrator of this grim spectacle.

"Great job. Both of you."

"You?"

A palpable tension filled the air in the dimly lit theatre, engulfing you as the truth unravelled right before your eyes. "Yeah, of course me." Bailey teases with a smirk growing on his lips, "Frankly, I expected more from you two after what you did to us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara questioned hesitantly. Bailey's smirk grew into an insufferable smile as he looked to his left, where one of his accomplices was moving to remove the mask. Your heart pounds inside your chest as the white face and black fabric are torn away, revealing your friend's face.

Ethan.

The seemingly unassuming roommate revealed himself with a sinister grin. "Ta-da!" Bailey laughs, finding the shock on all of your faces amusing. The sick look on Ethan's face made you want to puke, the revelation that someone you considered a friend had been out to kill you all along.

The feeling made Woodsboro feel like nothing. The two killers were Sam's boyfriend, whom you had hardly met and someone who you hated from the beginning.

It was nothing compared to seeing the real side of your friend.

With a smirk plastered on his lips, he begins to taunt you about how unsafe you were the whole time, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck it felt good to kill him.". You felt a surge of anger coursing through you as he spoke, causing your jaw to clench and your grip to tighten around the brick in your hand.

The idea of Ethan pretending to be his friend for months, only to have been plotting his demise the whole time without any hint of remorse, ignited an unbearable anger inside you.

"This one was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis?" Ethan smiles at Sam, pointing to his mask with his bloodied knife. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family, my name isn't Ethan Landry, is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara speaks for the rest of you, your faces growing more shocked. As the shock washes over you, your focus shifts to the second masked figure who still stands menacingly staring directly at you.

"But, if you're Ethan, that just leaves… Mindy?" Sam breathes out in disbelief. Your expression twisted in confusion as you looked back at the memories of how much Mindy had loved Anika. It seemed impossible, yet who else could it be?

Shock filled the room as Quinn removed her mask, leaving you all in stunned silence. "Hey, Roomies. Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"But you died?" Tara spoke, a hint of anger behind her voice. "Yeah, kinda didn't, though." Quinn quipped mockingly, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of thing."

Bailey's proud smile made you feel sick as his proud eyes bore into yours, "I made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. You'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with."

Your anger was starting to burst at your seams, being played for fools and having someone come back from the dead to kill your friends, pulling very tight on your last nerve.

"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favourite.". You rolled your eyes at her giddy proclamation. Of course, he was.

Bailey, clearly the leader of this psychotic trio, took slow and calculated steps towards Sam. "Number three and number two. Which just leaves…" Pulling out the most weathered mask from his jacket, he holds it out towards Sam, his eyes menacing. "I'm gonna need you to put it on."

Sam stands tall and looks back at the man with a matching expression, slapping the mask out of his hand as you watch his jaw clench in anger. Ethan is quick to react and slashes his knife towards the girl, slicing through her upper arm with a hiss.

You are quick to catch Sam as she falls back into you. She quickly recovers as she grasps her arm, now dripping with a familiar crimson liquid. Bailey's two minions begin to move around you, circling you as your anger finally comes spewing out of you; you step in front of Sam with rage filling your eyes. "You did all this as a family?" you yell at them incredulously. "Hell yeah, bitch! Sam should know why better than anyone!"

You immediately knew they were talking about Billy, yet the true origin of their motive still escaped you. What family had Sam ever hurt for them to hate her so much to go on a murderous rampage?

"They still haven't figured it out. Maybe we overestimated them." Ethan mocked as the confusion was clearly evident on your faces. Sam was the most confused of all, knowing that she had never done anything wrong. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit the murders in Woodsboro…"

Bailey's laugh fills the theatre, slightly offended that Sam would think that they would believe some stupid internet rumour. Instead, he reveals that it was, in fact, Quinn who had started the malicious rumours, making life in New York for Sam absolute hell.

Each time you think the betrayal couldn't run any deeper, they manage to beat themselves yet again.

"You're a killer, just like your father was.". "I'm not…". "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!". The gears could finally tick inside your heads as you looked between each other in an attempt to connect the dots. As far as you were aware, the only person Sam had ever 'killed' was… Richie.

Oh shit.

"You're Richie's family?" The realisation also struck Sam as her face sank. "Ding-ding-ding, now she's finally getting it." You shook your head in disbelief. A family seeking revenge for their dead son, okay, sure. Seeking revenge for a murderous psycho by killing his victims who had killed him out of self-defence? Too far.

Yet clearly, nothing was too far for this family, as Ethan revealed the sickening detail that they had killed their own mother because she had refused to avenge Richie. You knew all Ghostfaces were, on some level, psychotic, but this was getting insane.

"Great job with the parenting…" Tara quipped at Bailey, her words bringing the tiniest of smiles to your lips, her sarcasm never failing to entertain you, even if it's whilst you are surrounded by killers.

"You shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at the girl, your jaw clenching at the insult as you looked at her, infuriated. The temptation to throw the brick in your hand at her face almost overcame you until you felt a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I loved my son. So I helped him build this collection." You shifted your gaze towards the older man as he looked amongst the exhibitions with a reminiscent smile. "All of this is Richies?"

The more you seemingly find out about Richie, the more Sam's expression seems to fall. The guilt she had felt after Woodsboro was reborn as her ignorance about her then-boyfriend increased tenfold.

Knowing that this was all Richie's made the space somehow more bone-chilling than before. As your eyes scanned the numerous exhibits, filled with items that belonged in an evidence box somewhere, a part of you pangs with guilt for the other siblings who were clearly the least favourite.

"This is where you have to die." Your attention is brought back to him as he redraws his gun and points it directly at Sam. Instinctively grabbing for Tara's hand, you spare Sam a quick glance, noticing her expression shift as she tilted her head at the man.

Oh, he was fucked.

"He was pathetic, you know?". You watched the deadpan expression on Bailey's face break. "That's not true…" he shook his head. "He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do almost all the killing." You had to hold back your smile as you watched his facade breakdown. "He was a strong, virile young man!" "He was a weak little bitch who cried before I cut his fucking throat."

As the words leave Sam's mouth, Quinn lunges towards the three of you with a bloodcurdling scream. She is quickly and effortlessly stopped as Tara clocks her in the face with her brick. With teeth and blood flying out of her mouth, she falls to the floor.

A sign that their moment is finally over, your senses are heightened as Act 3 appears to finally kick off. Before you can make any moves, gunshots ring out from behind you as you turn to see Kirby apparently coming back from the dead.

Her resurgence doesn't last long as Ethan quickly rushes towards her with his knife ready in his hand. You're quick to follow the boy as he reaches Kirby and stabs her in the stomach. Finally reaching them as Kirby falls to the ground in pain, you run straight into Ethan, throwing him into the ground. He quickly gets back up and runs away with a maniacal laugh as you shift your focus back to Kirby.

Noticing the knife still sticking out of her stomach, you look at her with a grimace as you realise it's the only way you're gonna get a weapon anytime soon. "Sorry, but I need this." She gives you a small nod as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Gripping onto the handle, you pull the knife out swiftly in an attempt to minimise her pain. She howls in pain, and her hand grips on your arm, her nails digging into your skin as the wave of pain washes over her. Finally relaxing, she opens her eyes back up and looks at you with a tiny smile.

"Fuck 'em up."

As you stand up, you see Ethan reappear from behind a wall, his eyes set on you. Turning towards him, he begins to charge towards you with a sick grin still plastered on his face. "What are you gonna do, scar-face…" he calls out mockingly as he closes in.

That made you snap.

With a new vigour burning inside of you, you lunge towards him as you pull the knife above your head. With a loud grunt, you drive the knife down into his chest. His smile finally washes over his face as he looks at you surprised. Ignoring it, you continue to pump your knife in and out of his chest as if he were a piece of meat, his blood splattering all over you, but you couldn't care less.

Out of breath, you push his limp body off of you as he keels down with blood sputtering out of his mouth. Standing still, you look at his blood-covered body with laboured breathing. Noticing he is still alive, you move to stab him again until you hear your girlfriend's voice from behind you.

"Y/n!" she calls, your head instantly turning in her direction as you notice her beginning to climb the scaffolding behind her sister. Taking your chance, you quickly run towards them, weaving in and out of the display cases before you reach the base of the scaffolding.

Looking for a place to hold your knife, you settle on wiping it off on your shirt, adding to the mural of crimson colours, before placing the knife between your teeth.

As you begin climbing, the gash in your arm aches as new blood begins to flow from the wound. Biting painfully onto the knife, you continue your ascent as you see Tara at the top, reaching her hand down to you. Hearing noise behind you, you turn your head as you watch Bailey and Ethan begin to circle you like sharks, smelling your blood.

With a final grunt, you reach the top and grab Tara's hand as she helps pull you towards the balcony. Watching the two sisters scale across it in front of you, you take the time to try and settle your breathing, which is easier said than done when you're clutching a knife between your teeth.

Moving to follow them, you take the knife out of your mouth and carefully hand it to Tara. Climbing carefully along the railing, you are seconds from making it to safety with the others before another shot rings through the air.

A burning sensation instantly erupts in your leg as you lose your balance and fall backwards. Screaming your name, Sam and Tara barely manage to catch you as your hands barely grip the slippery railing.

Peering over your shoulder, you watch as Bailey moves towards a set of stairs and Ethan moves to stand directly underneath you. "Shit. Not good," you whisper to yourself as your gaze returns to the sisters' terrified looks.

With your injured arm weakening by the second, a noise from the balcony catches your attention as Quinn appears behind Sam, brandishing a bloodied knife in her hand. As Quinn moves towards her, she is forced to let go of your arm, and she turns to face her.

With Ethan taunting you from below and Quinn and Bailey closing in on the girls, you overcome your panic and realise it's your life or theirs.

"Tara, let me go". Your words cause the girl to look at you in shock. “No, I-” “Tara! Let me go.”. Your grip continues to slip as she looks at you as if you have lost your mind.

"Tara… Please." you give her a small smile as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. You watch as her lips begin to quiver, and you feel her grip loosen. Giving her a nod, she finally lets go of your wrists, causing you to plummet down from the balcony.

Turning your attention to the killer below you, you land with a loud bang, and your injured leg collapses beneath you. In an instant, Ethan is plunging his knife into your stomach, a meek whine escaping your lips as you bend over his arm. Twisting his knife inside of you, your loud cru echoes through the theatre as tears threaten your eyes.

Finally, bringing your head up to look at the boy, his smile sent a shiver down your spine as your breathing became more and more laboured. Just as you thought your time was coming to an end, another figure comes falling down from above you.

It was Tara.

Before you can say anything, she lands on her feet with a knife in her hand. Catching Ethan off-guard, she grips his hair and rips his head back. Looking at her with his mouth open, she lifts up her knife and plunges it into the back of his throat. You can hear him gargling on his own blood as she twists the knife, blood splattering on her face.

"Now die a fucking virgin."

Pushing him so that he falls to the ground with a thud, Tara quickly averts her attention back to you, who, to her surprise, was wearing a smirk on her lips. "That was really hot." you chuckled in pain as she kneeled down next to you, noticing the knife was still in your abdomen.

"Shut up," she said before moving to lie you down. Knowing she was about to pull it out, you exhaled shakily before nodding at her, and just like you did Kirby, she pulled the knife out quickly, earning a pained groan from you, before immediately applying pressure to your wound.

Gently removing her hand from your stomach, you move to sit up and attempt to ignore how her hand is now stained with your blood. Making into an upright position, you look at Tara, who is scanning you for any other wounds, whilst you watch her face with a tender gaze.

The bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of a body that vibrated the creaky floors above your head, brought you both back to the situation you were in. "Help me up," you say quickly, urgently trying to get up and help Sam, presuming it wasn't her body that you heard fall.

As Tara wrapped her arm around your waist gently, she pulled you to your feet; the faint sound of Sam's voice talking to someone calms your nerves. The throbbing from your bullet and stab wound was a rude awakening as to the shape you were in, not to mention the blood that covered almost every inch of your body.

Before the two of you could move towards the stairs, the sound of screaming rang through the theatre as you both looked up. Your jaw dropped. Bailey and Sam came flying over the railing before plummeting into the displays beneath them. As the glass shattered beneath them, you were quick to notice their lack of movement.

Pulling Tara off of you, you pushed her towards her sister. Running to her side, you hobbled as fast as you could towards them. Thankfully, Tara had managed to shake her awake by the time you got there. As she helped Sam to her feet, you sighed in relief as you looked over at a still motionless Bailey.

As the sisters check over each other, your sights remain on the unconscious killer in front of you. "What are we gonna do about him?" you ask, nodding your head in his direction.

You watch as the gears turn in Sam's head, weighing the options between ending it now and letting him die somewhat peacefully or giving him a taste of his own medicine.

She chose the latter.

Hidden behind the curtains on the side of the stage, you watched Bailey through a small slit, waiting for him to move in order to signal Sam that your plan was in action.

It was simple, really. Make him go crazy, and then you kill him.

After a few minutes, Bailey finally began to stir as he moved to sit up. You quickly poked your head around the corner into the hidden hallway, where Sam was standing in her father's costume; you gave her a nod before she pulled a phone out of her pocket and pulled it to her ear.

The sound of Bailey's phone ringing echoed through the now disturbingly quiet theatre. Repositioning yourself so that you can see him, you watch as he rapidly looks around him before standing and bringing his phone to his ear.

You can't hear what Sam is saying to him, but you watch him make his way to the stage as planned. "Oh yeah, what's that?" his voice grows louder as he finally appears on the stage.

Now, the fun part.

As planned, from your place on the ground, you reached your uninjured leg out and kicked a floorboard. Before you could even retract your leg, Bailey snapped towards the noise and fired two precise shots into the heads of the mannequins that lined the stage.

"You put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic that you're going to die in it…" Exhaling quietly as he spoke, you moved to a spot against a wall where you could relax your weakening body for a minute as Tara played her part.

A noise sounded from the other side of the stage. Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back onto the wall, you listened as Bailey once again flinched and fired his gun, this time the sound of shattering glass filling the stage.

"You know the truth now. Murder's in your blood."

It was your turn again. As quietly as you could in your state, you reached your arm over to the brick that Sam had given you. Picking it up, with the strength left in your arms, you threw it into the back corner of the stage, away from you.

The sound of Bailey's gun firing once again filled the air as he screamed frustratedly, "Stop fucking around and show yourself!". Knowing that it was Sam's turn, you quietly crawled towards the curtain, pulling it aside slightly so that you could peer through.

"I'm a fucking police officer! What are you gonna do, huh? Who do you think they're gonna believe?" he screams once again. A faint smile lands on your lips as you watch Sam appears behind him, wearing the mask and all. Before he even notices her presence, she quickly spins him around before, as you would put it, stabbing the shit out of him.

As crazy as it sounded to say, the sound of his screams was like music to your ears. His family had singlehandedly taken everything from you, so watching him suffer was like heaven to you.

Spotting Tara appear from behind her hiding spot and walking towards Sam, you decided to do the same. With a groan and the help of a wall, you pulled yourself to your feet before weakly hobbling out from your place behind the curtains.

As Sam finally stops stabbing him, and he pleads for his life, you watch with a mixture of admiration and concern, confused as to why she is giving him any chance to live.

She didn't entertain it for long.

"But you did fuck with my family, so…". You watch with wide eyes as Sam gruesomely stabs him straight in his eye, the blade clearly reaching his brain as he falls to the ground, twitching.

"Aw, now we're matching." you joke, earning a laugh from the girls as you look at the mutilated body of the once detective who now also had only one functional eye - had he been alive, that is.

"Let's get out of here," Tara says softly as she grasps your hand with hers. Her touch never fails to make you giddy, but something was off this time. As she tried to pull you towards the stairs off the stage, your head began to spin uncontrollably as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.

Your legs collapse underneath you as Tara catches you, her face ridden with worry. "Y/n?!? Hey, you're okay, just breathe.". Your vision was fading in and out of a blur as the feeling of your limbs began to escape you. Sam kneels down on the other side of you, matching Tara's expression, as you try to nod to Tara's words.

"Yeah… I just… need a little break." Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you try your best to keep them open. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay," Tara speaks as calmly as she can as she notices the blood beginning to spill from your wounds again.

“Yeah… of course…”

Opening your eyes slowly, you groan softly as the bright light hanging above you stings your eyes. Carefully rubbing your eyes, still careful of your scar, you move to sit up slightly, noticing you are in an empty hospital room. Confusion washes over you, as last you remember, you were on a bloodied stage, and yet here you were.

Doing your best with your aching limbs, you move a pillow behind your back in order to give you a better view of your new environment, admittedly much nicer than your previous one.

Scanning the room, you notice the small TV in the corner of the room is playing The Babadook. You know you didn't put it on, so someone must be here, and it's not particularly hard to figure out who it must be.

With your attention focused on the screen, you fail to notice when Tara walks in the door with a bag of chips in her hand. As she notices your moving figure, a loud gasp escapes her lips. She drops everything in her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately watering.

The sound makes you immediately turn to her, a smile growing on your lips as your eyes meet hers. As the fact that you are awake and alive sinks in, she runs over to the side of your bed and brings her hands up to your face.

Gently cupping your cheeks, her teary eyes look into yours as your hands gently grip her wrists. "Hi," you chuckle softly, the wave of relief finally hitting you. "Hi," she chuckles back even softer, her eyes scanning every detail of your face.

"Is everyone okay?" you ask with furrowed brows as she nods enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, yeah, we're all fine.". The sigh that escapes your lips rids your mending body stress, all of it melting away as soon as you know you have all made it.

Your eyes return to Tara's as she whispers softly, "I can't believe you're alive.". You smile sincerely at her words. "I'm not going anywhere." At your words, she lets go of your face and climbs onto your bed. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. You watch as she wraps her arms around your neck and buries her head in your shoulder.

Instantly reciprocating, you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her with all the strength you can muster. You can feel her tears falling onto your bare shoulder, entangling one of your hands in her hair as you gently play with her hair.

"We made it, Tara. We made it."

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#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream 6 #scream VI #scream #the quiet one #simp4wom3n

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seeingivy · 11 months

Text

the scouts

roommate eren x f!reader

eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you.

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives

an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest

previous part linked here

“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.”

“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.”

“Then call her. I’m going to block you.”

“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.”

“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.”

“Okay. Are you sure?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?”

“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.”

Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you.

Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university.

You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there?

Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed.

All the more reason to do this.

to jean-boy

you: hey. are you at the game today?

jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up.

you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol.

jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries

you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home

jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it?

you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth.

jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him.

You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this.

“Hey.”

“Hi Jean.”

“What are you wearing?”

You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“You wore the rival's colors.”

“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.”

“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.”

“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.”

He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side.

“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.”

He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come.

“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.”

You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock.

“What are you doing here?”

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?”

“How much did you hear?”

“None of it. Did I miss something important?”

You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?

“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.”

“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…”

“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.”

You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium.

“Um so-”

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“We’re not doing this, Eren.”

“You have to change. Like now.”

“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.”

You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.

“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.”

Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss?

He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on.

“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.”

“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.”

You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand.

“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.”

“Mine. Thanks Armin.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?”

“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.”

Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on.

“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.”

“It’s just a color.”

“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.”

My girl.

“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.”

He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium.

“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.”

“Look at the second row, towards the middle.”

You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.

“Eren.”

He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you.

“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.”

Asshole.

“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?”

“Give me the jersey, Eren.”

He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes.

“So.”

“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.”

“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.”

He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.

I told you so.

You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you.

“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?”

The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks.

So this is where Eren gets it from.

“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.”

You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too.

And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game.

You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair.

You tap him on the shoulder.

“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.”

At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you.

“His roommate? Since when?”

“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.”

“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.”

“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?”

Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while.

“Mikasa. Did you know about this?”

“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.”

Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously.

“I’m Sasha.”

“And I’m Connie.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.”

They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently.

“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?”

“Sure.”

“How did Eren become your roommate?”

“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.”

You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you.

“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?”

“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.”

“I might have an idea.”

At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of.

“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?”

“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?”

You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat.

“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?”

“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.”

Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what?

“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?”

“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.”

At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours.

“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.”

“What playlist?”

You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game.

He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street.

You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches.

“So. Is it about you?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.”

Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation.

“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?”

“Uh, no. I think he likes it?”

“Hm.”

Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha.

“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?”

“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.”

“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?”

“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes.

Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them.

Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked.

“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?”

“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.”

“We have his wallet.”

Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids.

This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears.

“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?”

At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.”

“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.”

She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them.

“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.”

And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you.

So you don’t.

“I will. Take care of him, I mean.”

She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug.

Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating.

You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads.

“Ren?”

He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium.

“Everything okay, kitty?”

“Uh. I might have messed up.”

He stops, turning to face you.

“What did you do?”

“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?”

“I could never be mad at you. You know that.”

Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling.

“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them - and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.”

He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips.

“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

“What?

“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.”

“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.”

“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Yeah. How’d you know?

“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.”

“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.”

He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk.

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.”

“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?”

He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.”

He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead.

“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.”

“Bullshit.”

You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium.

“And why’s that?”

“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.”

He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.

Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice.

next chapter linked here

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544 notes · View notes

padscomm · 3 months

Text

safe place

tara carpenter x f!reader

warnings: grammatical errors, mention of suicides, abusive household and also scream 5+6 au bc why not?!

a/n; IM ALIVE !! I'm so busy, school is shit broo

it was sunday, it meant it was cleaning time. but, you were to focused on studying that you forgot to clean the house.

you checked the time, and you realized, that your father was coming home soon. you panicked, and quickly started cleaning your room.

your father was an abusive alcoholic, it was a suprise. an loving caring man turning into an abusive alcoholic, when your mother died.

he didn't bother going to therapy, instead he started drinking and started doing drugs. when he's tired, he takes his anger out on you, when he's in a bad mood he takes it out on you.

he poured out his anger always at you, you didn't know why. you would always be hiding in the closet, filled with bruises from him. trying to hold your tear's, it was always hard. you've never told anyone about the abusive and toxic household you were in.

you were a joyful person, filled with sunshine but personally, no one ever knew you that well. except for your girlfriend; Tara Carpenter.

you heard the door creaking, you weren't even halfway done cleaning with your room and you still had a few rooms to clean. you were scared, you didn't have a way out.

you decided to hide in the closet, where you always do. you were scared for dear god, you were scared what he will do to you. your tear's streaming down on your face.

you heard a scream, “Y/N!! How come you still didn't clean the house?!” it was filled with anger, your heart is beating fast, you are scared. sweating intensely.

hearing footsteps from the stairs, and through the hallway’s of your bedroom. you prayed to dear god, to not hurt you. “y/n, i know you’re in there.” he say's, opening the door of your bedroom.

you had no way out. you heard him investigating every area.

he opened the closet door, “there you are.” he says, grabbing you from your wrist, tightly. “dad stop please! I'm sorry, I was so carried away—” you didn't have time to speak, he punched you so hard on the face.

that your nose started bleeding, “you really think I'm gonna believe you? you lying son of a fuckin bitch.” you were down on your knees, crying.

The next day

it was a good Monday morning for tara. she was awoken by her sister, sam. she got up from her bed and started making it, then after that she check's her phone if she received a message from you, but sadly she didn't.

it was something off, she chat's you again, asking if you were okay.

· my baby ; hey, are you okay y/n? im worried sick, text me back as soon as you can. hope you're okay mylove! I love you

timeskip at school

“hey guys, have you seen y/n? she hasn't texted me back.” tara said, worried about you. “look's like an overprotective girlfriend is worried about her troublemaker girlfriend.” mindy jokes, tara didn't find her funny, and just glared at her.

“oh there’s y/n!" anika pointed, she ran after her. “she seem's off today, its just not me who thinks she's off today? right?” mindy stated, the others agreed with her. usually, you would hangout with the friend group but this day, you didn't.

you went straight to class, it was unusual for them. you saw anika running towards you, but you decided to walk more faster so she wouldn't catch you.

once you entered inner part of the school, you saw anika not chasing you anymore. you were glad. you had a long oversized hoodie, covering your body and bruises. you went straight to class with the oversized hoodie on you, even tho it was hot as fuck.

after first period, you went to second period. not even bothering to check up on your girlfriend. you were just not in the mood to talk to anyone today. you just wanted peace, and alone time with yourself.

not until second period started, you realized that you and anika were seatmates. you and anika are bestfriends, she worries about you alot.

you sat down to anika, avoiding eye contact with her. “hey y/n, why are you avoiding us?” anika asked, but you didn't answer. anika wasn't really comfortable with your silence, since you were always loud and energetic.

she kept asking you questions but you didn't answer once. second period ended and it was third, you continued to third period with talking to any of your friends or even anyone.

after third, it was lunch break. you didn't have the appetite to eat. so you skipped it, and hid at the rooftop, listening to music peacefully and doing your work.

“y/n didn't talk to me in 2nd period, I don't know why tho, I think something's off about her.” tara looked at anika, “you should go check up on your girlfriend, tar.” liv suggested, but even tara didn't know where you were.

“ill go check up on her at the end of classes.” mindy really thinks tara is a bad girlfriend.

more timeskip

it was time to go home. you didn't go home yet, you were at the rooftop, smoking. it was peaceful, and calming for you. no disturbance.

not until you heard the door open, you put out your cigarette as fast as you can. you saw tara, looking worried sick at you. “y/n, are you okay? you didn't talk to us for the whole day, tell me everything, I'm willing to listen y/n.”

she says, pulling the sleeves of yours “and why are you wearing a jacket it's so—" you quickly took your arm away from her. she saw what she saw, bruises, blood streaming down your arms.

she was in disbelief, “im so sorry tara, i didn't mean to freak you out. I know I'm a bad girlfriend, you can leave me because of my weirdness and my bruises and scars—" she hugged you tightly, “im not gonna leave you y/n. I love you, and that's what matters. can you tell me what happened? it's okay if you're not comfortable.”

you sighed. you needed to tell her the truth, to gain trust. and you did, she was in pure disbelief and shock. she comforted you, and made you more safer.

“i think i should go home, my dad will be mad at me.” you said, but tara didn't let you go. “stay with me for a few days, ill get you help.” those words from tara, was enough to make you tear up.

“dont cry now, baby. stay with me, you'll be more safer.” you didn't care anymore, you wanted to be free with tara.

once tara and you arrived at her house, you were greeted by sam. death staring you, “hey tara, who've you got there?” sam asked, “this is my girlfriend ive been telling you about.” you blushed at her words, she's been talking about you?

“by the way y/n, can you go upstairs. you know my room already.” tara said, she didn't tell sam that you've been sneaking inside their household. “why is there red stuff on her sleeves?” sam was curious. tara explained the whole situation to her.

sam felt bad for you, the two carpenter's will be doing their best getting you help.

after a conversation with sam, tara went up to her room. she saw you, laying down peacefully. “hey let's get you cleaned up, okay?” you nodded, and got up from the bed.

she guides you to her bathroom and sat you down on the sink, she took your hoodie off, and saw all the bruises you had. bruises everywhere, “more bruises down on your legs?” you nodded.

“can i take them off?” she asks for your permission, “go ahead.” she takes of your pants, slowly and lightly. she was shocked with all the bruises that you dad gaved.

“thats alot. let's start with your wrists.” she wiped off all the blood, until there was no more flowing. and rolls the comforting bandage around your arms.

working one by one on the bruises, she stayed up just to get you cleaned.

at the end of the day, it was the two of you lying in bed. “i love you so much, tara.” you said, burying your face onto her neck.

“i always love you more, my love. soon your dad will be in prison.” she reassure's you, and before going to sleep, she kissed you forehead lightly, and kissed you lips passionately.

“tara, what if attempted suicide one day?” you said, out of the blue. it was a suprise, “of course my life will be empty. i cannot live without you. i love you more than everything, if you have a problem, come talk to me okay?” you smiled at her.

she was tired already, “im going to sleep na. im so tired, mahal.”

“goodnight my beautiful, beautiful girlfriend! i love you.”

“goodnight tara, i love you too. sweet dreams.”

“thank you for taking care of me.” you mumbled, “your welcome.

a/n; this is shit

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beansboop · 3 months

Text

after the tour - julien baker x reader

okay, so this is my first time writing for Julien. its just something small and was just an idea ive had in my head for a couple days. I know only a few people who write for Julien (i love their work) so I thought maybe I could start writing for her and even the other members of boygenius too! but anyways I hope this is good and I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it :)

summary - Julien has been on tour for a while now and all she wants to do is be with the person she loves most. you.

rating - none

warnings - literally just fluff. she/her pronouns. reader is younger (in college) not proofread.

word count - 800

It was still dark out when you first woke up. Some birds were chirping and you could hear the soft snores from the person lying next to you.

Julien. Your little body heater.

She was laying on her stomach with her arm thrown around you. Her face tucked in the back on your neck, her breath tickling you every time she exhaled.

You shuffled around until you were facing her. Admiring her relaxed face. She had just finished the tour with the boys and has been exhausted ever since she got home. All she wanted to do was crawl into your arms and go to sleep.

Which is exactly what she did last night.

The boys had just finished the last song of the night and the last show of the tour. You were backstage waiting for Julien, and the rest of them. Mostly Julien though. You weren’t able to go to every show sadly, you were in college and had to keep things going with yours and julien’s shared home. You guys facetimed and texted throught the day. You did go to some shows and were able to support them front row or back stage. But Julien felt bad cause she was always so tired after shows all she wanted to do was go to sleep. So she didn’t get to talk to you much or spend much time with you. But you understood completely. You loved Julien and your just happy to be together wherever it is and whatever you guys are doing.

Julien, Phoebe, and Lucy all came running back and collided into you with the biggest hug.

“you guys were absolutely incredible out there” you said before you quite literally ran out of breath from the bear hug.

They all laughed, phoebe and lucy went to go to their rooms to grab their stuff to bring to the tour bus leaving you and Julien alone. Julien just kept looking at you smiling.

“what are you looking at?” you smirked.

Julien laughed “im just looking at you.. ive missed you so much” she says wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your forehead.

“me too,” you said sadly. “but were together now and we’ll be home soon and we can do whatever you want” you said, kissing the tip of her nose then her mouth.

“oh.. whatever I want huh” Julien smirked and raised her eyebrows. You chuckled and lightly smacked her cheek.

You rolled your eyes “ugh come on” you grabbed her arm and started dragging her towards her room to get her things.

For some reason you were wide awake and just thinking about random stuff. You were so in your head you didn’t even realise Julien had woken up.

“whatcha thinkin’ about baby?” she asked tiredly.

“just life. You, and me”

She smiled at that. “good thoughts I hope?”

“Yes, of course” you said, cupping her face with your hand and brushing hair out of her face.

Her eyes starting to close again.

You didn’t say anything for a couple minutes so she thought you had fallen back asleep. She pulled you closer to her so your face was in the crook of her neck. You both keeping eachother warm from the cool air.

“are you awake?” Julien asked softly.

You hummed

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds trying to think of a way to get this all out. “I know because of the tour I haven’t been able to talk to you much or be with you and im sorry. Ive been so stressed and tired lately I know I haven’t been making time to really be with you and when I am with you im just annoying cause im having to practice or talking with the band and im not giving you my full attention” she started rambling.

Now you were really awake.

“Julien” is all you said.

“you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it. Your stressed, anyone would be. eThis was one of your biggest tours and im so, so proud of you.” You exclaimed.

She started tearing up at your words. She really felt like she was such a bad girlfriend. But of course you would understand, that’s why she loved you so much.

“Im just so-“ you cut her off with your lips.

“stop saying sorry. You don’t have any reason to be sorry. Im not mad, I never was, In the slightest.” You kissed her again. This time slowly to make sure she really gets that your not upset.

You could never be upset at her.

Especially over something like this.

You rested your foreheads against each other and just laid with each other.

“I love you so much y/n. I mean it. You are it for me” Julien said.

She kissed you gently. “I love you Julien. Your it for me too.”

#julien baker x reader #boygenius #julien baker

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cemeterygirlrocks · 8 months

Text

IM CRAZIER — JOE GOLDBERG

Summary; He’s crazy, but you can be crazier.

Contents; Begging, slightly sub!joe, slight dacryphilia, pain kink, p in v, unprotected sex, edging, black fem reader, possessive reader, reader has female anatomy, reader has glasses in this, but you can pretend she doesn’t if you don’t have them.

It was your big pouty lips that drew him in, the way you looked while being lost in a book. You were everything he wanted in a women, he had to have you, it could only be you.

The way you smelled, mm. You smelt like vanilla, subtle though, he hated the strong scent. He loved when you changed your hairstyles, felt like he was meeting a different part of you every time.

The blonde, the brown, but he really liked when you went outside basic colors. Joe hoped to see you in blue maybe, it was his favourite color.

Well that’s what he told you.

You didn’t know whether it was true or not, he always just wanted to please you and lying about his preferred color was something he would certainly do.

Joe wondered what you were like outside of the library, and it was hard to find you. You were always home, he liked that.

Stalking you wasn’t enough, he had to see you outside his place of work, you were all he ever wanted.

Your black glasses framed your face perfectly, it blended well with your perfect skin tone.

The first interaction you guys had was when you took out a scientific book; what keeps scientists up at night.

He knew you were smart, the way your smile grew brighter when he complimented your book. Joe knew nothing about it, but he could pretend he did.

You seemed to liked him. He had a nerdy vibe, pathetic almost. Drove you in, and he knew right then and there he was yours.

You couldn’t help but stay around his workplace later than you needed to, growing jealous when he talked to another woman. You didn’t know he was already taken; by you of course.

It got worse as the weeks went by, when you saw a girl write her number down and slide it onto the table he was sitting at you just happened to pop up, crumbling it before he even caught a glance.

He didn’t know what you would do for him, he was yours. You didn’t care whether he thought so or not, he was going to eventually.

When you guys bumped into each other outside where you usually did, it wasn’t on purpose on your end, neither was it on his.

“H-Hey! Y/n right? It’s me, Joe.” He gave you a cheeky smile, how cute, “Mhm, you work at the library.”

Joe fell in love with the way you responded so carelessly, but he knew while you said so few words they were laced with the love you had for him.

He was convinced you were obsessed with him, oh how he was right.

While itching the back of his head his eyes fell towards your chest. You wore it just for him, but he didn’t know that.

You were perfect to him, no flaws in sight.

“I was wondering, you wanna get some coffee? I know a great place.” Your eyes darkened at his slight plea for your heart, “Of course, tomorrow at 3?”

It’s like he couldn’t breathe, time had stopped and you were the only thing he could see.

“I’ll come get yo—why don’t we just meet at the library?” Your smile softened, you didn’t even realize the mess he thought he got himself into.

You made him so hot and bothered, he couldn’t help but hump his pillow imagining it was you. Tears springing in his eyes as he wouldn’t let himself cum, needing your permission somehow.

Joe hadn’t came in weeks, he didn’t wanna disappoint you. You saw it all through his window, how stupid he was to keep his blinds open.

Like he wanted you to see how much of a mess you made him. You saw, and you knew.

Made your panties get slick with your wetness, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into testing you.

You just wanted to caress his skin, scratch him, bite him. Show him just how he made you feel.

The two of you hit it off at the cafe, it was bound to happen. Both of you had researched everything about each other, knowing all of the opposites interests.

It was only right that you guys ended up together, it was either that or you’d be together in death.

2 weeks had past since you guys made it official, you made him wait. Everybody had said he plotted on you, not knowing how long you had been watching him since you even went into the library.

It was all apart of your plan. Joe was coming over, all you ever wanted to do was make him beg, make him tell you that you were the only one.

Even though you knew that already, if there was somebody else you would know.

A knock on the door made you smile, you were already dressed the part.

Pretty black heels, along with your favourite black and pink matching set. He loved your ass and tits, every single part of you made him feel like blowing up.

Joe kissed you on the lips, not even realizing what you had on. He was just too obsessed with your pretty little face. Til he realized you weren’t always this tall, he looked down, immediately feeling warmth spring up to his cheeks.

“You like it sweetie? Just for you.” Grabbing his hand you walked him through your apartment. He already knew what it looked like the second day he met you.

“Just for me huh?” His voice came out in on breath, like he was suffocating. Joe hadn’t came for months, the only thing you would do with him was kiss.

He didn’t mind, anything with you was something big for him.

“Sit down baby, but first. Undress will you?” You watched as his eyes lit up, a small smile creeping onto his face. Those pretty big eyes, looking straight at you while he stripped.

Joe didn’t know what you really wanted, so he just took off his pants and shirt, left in his boxers. You already knew what he looked like, the size and the shape.

“All of it Joe, don’t be dumb now.” He cherished how you talked to him, like he was just an ordinary dude.

But he knew, he knew he was everything to you.

“M’sorry.” Joe mumbled, his hard on slapping against his stomach. All you did was watch him, leaning against your dresser.

Slowly stepping out of the heels he bought you, your pretty baby pink toes made their appearance.

He was already oozing pre cum, you knew your baby was soo close. “You better not cum, Joesph. Sit on the bed.”

A whine fell loose, but he obeyed. Doing exactly what you asked. Slowly crawling up towards him, you were perked up between in legs, massaging the inside of his thighs.

Made him whimper, his pink bottom lip just begging to be bit down on.

“Fuck please, please touch me Y/n.” Tilting your head to the side, you frowned, “Is this not enough for you? Am I not doing enough?”

Before he could even form a reply you slapped him, the harsh touch making his eyes water and his cock twitch.

You couldn’t help but giggle, softly rubbing the spot in circles.

“You’re a bad boy, oh but you liked that didn’t you? Hm Joe? Tell me.”

He let out a choked moan, his eyes low and dark. The man nodded before he could even let words out.

“I love it, you know I do,” He moved his hair out of his face, just to see you more clearly, “Do it again? Fuck please mama.”

You caressed his thighs, before your sharp short french tips ruined his pretty pale skin.

“Mmf-fuck, hurts.” You laughed softly, “Oh baby I know, you want me to stop?” You didn’t even finish your sentence before he begged you not to.

Harshly gripping the base of his cock, his head hitting the back of your headboard when your cold hand made contact with him.

“Please, o-oh fuck please, please.” He didn’t know what he was begging for. Release? More pain? Joe didn’t know.

You were going so fast, his body couldn’t control itself.

The tears were welling up, but when you kitten licked his tip the man’s brain got fuzzy, his vision fogging up.

He hadn’t even realized you unclipped your bra, letting his cum coat your pretty big tits. “Baby? You did so good, but look.” He blinked for a few seconds, regaining his eyesight.

Joesph still was shooting out his semen, it was so much. Always been an overachiever.

You just looked so pretty with his cum all over your chest, his breathing got heavier. He could feel himself getting hard again when you took your thumb and wiped his semen off the side of your lip, sucking on it while maintaining eye contact.

“Shit. Thank you, mm thank you,” You motioned to your boobs, “but you made a mess on me, you know what you do with messes.”

Smirking slightly, you shuffled just in front of his face, smiling when he cupped your waist. Joe licked up all of his cum off your chest, sucking and kissing on each of your nipples in the process.

You giggled, it tickled almost. You grabbed ahold of his tip again, pressing your big lips against his.

They swallowed his, just how he liked it. The man was panting in your mouth, trying to catch up but the pain he was feeling was taking over.

You bit his bottom lip hard just when the pain turned into pleasure. His tears dripped onto your skin, he was always the most sensitive.

“Mhm, I’m gonna, please? Please let me.” You let go, a loud groan erupting from his lips. Then you did it again, bringing him on the brink of release.

“I wanna cum,” He sobbed, his hand reaching for your free one, gripping it so tightly. Shaking your head softly, you stopped, peppering him with small kisses.

You didn’t wanna make it deep, because you knew how he’d react.

Laying wet kisses on his stomach you made your way down, biting harshly above his pelvis. He took a deep breath, whimpering loudly. Joe didn’t know what to do with his hands so he gripped onto your bedsheet.

“Hurts so much.” Furrowing your brows you pulled away, a grin planted on your face and the mark you left.

“You want me to stop Joseph? I can leave you like this if you want.” He shook his head, pouting.

“Don’t leave me, no. You can’t. I c-can take it, you know I can. Keep going Y/n, don’t stop.” You couldn’t leave him, not when he was like this, not ever.

He felt so warm, his blood was boiling at your every touch.

“Tell me more, you got me so wet Joe.” Joseph moaned, your words. The way they fell off your sweet tongue.

When you kissed the sweet spot on his neck, a shaky breath left his lips. “I love what you do to me, make me feel so good. Don’t ever want you to stop, oh fuck. Rig.. Right there, p-please keep going.”

Your hand had made its way to his tip, squeezing gently while moving your hand in an up and down motion.

His body was twitching, every touch making him feel like fainting. You stopped, getting yourself situated above his leaking head.

“Mhm, so good Joe.” You pulled your panties aside, lowering yourself down you let out a breath. You bottomed out, pushing up your glasses a little.

Gripping his chin, you pressed a quick kiss on his bottom lip, the same place you so harshly bit.

Every move hit her spot so perfectly, he was molded just for you. “I��m yours.” He whispered, his voice coming out raspy and broken.

“Hm, what was that bunny?” His ears perked up at the pet name, smiling a toothy grin.

“I’m yours Y/n, a-all yours.” You loved that, so when you cupped his throat he didn’t protest, just watching you with pure lust in his eyes.

“This dicks mine?” He nodded as well as he could, a broken moan coming out, “Say it.” You huffed, moving faster, not slowing down when he tried to steady your hips.

“It’s yours, f-fuck I promise. Shit, shit. Don’t stop, fuck please don’t stop.”

You fell undone on his lap, your head falling into his neck. His orgasm was ruined once again, and he whined, a tear falling down.

You quietly snickered, you knew what he wanted, he was so desperate. When you started to move again the man’s eyes rolled back into his head.

“Can I cum? Please?”

“You better, don’t want me to get off do you? Cause bunny I will, I’m feeling a little tired after all.”

You clenched around him, a choked moan escaped and you pressed your lips to his. “Hah, fuck. Hurts so good.”

Continuing your movements you felt him twitch inside you, he edged himself for so long it was crazy how much he could stop himself from cumming unless you told him to.

“Come onn, make me happy.” You moved up, clenching around his tip before slamming yourself back down.

You sighed deeply when you felt him coat your warm walls. He was so cute like this, so pussy drunk.

Riding him through his orgasm you caressed his skin softly, kissing him everywhere.

Joesph literally felt like he was floating, he couldn’t breathe. When he thought you were gone, your smell was back and he knew he wasn’t alone.

xo, liah

#sub!joe #black!fem!reader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #black fem reader #black reader #black!reader #blackfem!reader #pain kink #sub!joe golberg #sub joe golberg #dacryphilia #joe goldberg

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arachnoia · 10 months

Text

holy shock ➶ . ˚ ༉‧₊˚ˑ༄ؘ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x fem! reader (nsfw!)

a/n: literally I love you guys smmmm! i’m so glad you guys loved ‘gone’ 🥹 here’s pt 2!

again im trying new things bc im not rlly a smut writer but if y’all want smut, im down to write it! it’s j not my strong suit and y’all can prob tell.

ILL SHUT UP! ENJOY!

warnings- this has a lil nsfw, p in v, lil bit of angst, untranslated spanish, second part to gone

pt1- ‘gone’ pt3- ‘finally’

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“HE TOLD YOU HE DIDN’T YOU IN HIS LIFE? WHAT?” Peter looked at you wide-eyed and Mayday raised her eyebrows even though she has no idea what was going on. But her dad sounding shocked was enough to get a surprised reaction from her.

“Sort of…” you whispered. You kept looking at the sun’s glare, as if it had the solution to your crumbling “love life”.

“What do you think we were, Peter? What is your perspective? Why was Miguel your first thought?” You remarked. You felt your voice slightly crack from your questions thrown at Peter.

You also felt a little irrational.

You were angry too.

Not at Peter of course, but of how pathetic you think you look right now.

A slew of emotions piled onto you suddenly, all negative.

“Y/n…Aren’t you guys best friends?” His answer shocked you when it shouldn’t.

If you said yes, you wouldn’t be lying because that’s how your relationship looked like. But it’s not how it felt. It felt like something more.

“You could say that,” You said, glancing at the hyper cars from below.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“Thank you…”

Miguel looked startled as he turned in your direction below. “For what?”

“Saving me. My thigh feels better and thank you for uh, saving me,” You yelled, smiling awkwardly. Hopefully he couldn’t tell how nervous you were from up there.

Miguel leaned his head to behind you, “What do you have there ?”

“Oh, fuck right! Uh, these are for you,” You swung up and held out a plastic white bag, plastered with “THANK YOU”s and “GRACIAS”s.

You felt so stupid.

You sounded so stupid.

He probably thought you were stupid too.

“I- uh…got you some empanadas. I know you like them from Doña Rosa’s restaurant, so…here.” Miguel’s eyebrows were raised and he chuckled. “You didn’t have to, Y/l/n.”

Stuttering? Really?

You blushed and felt nervous. He’s your best friend?? Why are you feeling this way??

You retracted your arm with the bag before Miguel grabbed your arm and sucked his teeth. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t take them now, Y/n.”

Your face felt like it was on fucking FIRE.

“Gracias hermosa,” He said smiling and snatching the bag quickly.

He said it in a teasing way, which lead you even more confused as to what the hell it meant translated.

You tilted your head in confusion, “What does that mean?”

What if he said he didn’t like them?

WHAT IF HE THOUGHT YOU SOUNDED LIKE AN IDIOT?!

He turned around and shrugged. “Means ‘thanks bud’. So thanks, bud.”

His nonchalant tone made you bite the inside of your cheek as you frowned at him, who was already opening up the bag of empanadas and munching on a fig one.

“Yeah, you’re welcome, bud.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I just need time to breathe and take a minute, Peter. It’s not every day one of your best friends just tells you ‘Oh! You’re dead to me, you bastard, I hate you, I want you gone from my life!’ That just doesn’t happen,” you said, feeling an immense wave of sorrow hitting you, replacing the anger that was just there.

Peter, in his 38 years of living never ever thought he would be in this situation; giving relationship advice to his 27-year-old colleague.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” That was the first thing to mind. As you can tell, he isn’t really good at this.

“Well yeah-“

“How did it go?”

You glared are him and your tone turned sarcastic, “How does it look like it went?”

The sky’s sunset looked beautiful. It had an array of warm and gorgeous reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows, with a hint of violet.

“Well, he blocked my number! He unfollowed me on his super duper secret Instagram-”

“Wait what? Miguel has Instagram? He’s such a…”

You laughed a bit, “…Deadkill? Why? Is it because he has the humor of an 80-year-old man? He’s not that boring, Peter. He has social media.”

“Y/n. The man says ‘Oh shock!’ Like man, just say oh shi-” Peter stopped and looked at Mayday, who was already looking up at him and was smiling cutely.

“I mean ‘oh shiitake mushrooms’…”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Well he cut off all communication from me! The bastard even blocked me on SPOTIFY. He deleted our shared playlist-”

“Woah. WOAH! Shared playlist? Me n MJ do that!” he gushed.

You nodded, “And he was the one who added the majority of the songs. Pinche puto.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um Y/n, hey I don’t know. Talk to him?” He said, giving you a sassy tone with his hands on his hips. ”Peter, you’re setting me up for failure…”

“It would be, you know, more real if you just talked it over. I’m not sure about the whole picture as to what happened between you two but Miguel has always been so…depressing and you really did brighten up his life to some extent.”

“Right-”

“Hey, before you start being all mopey, just talk it out. I know Miguel just wouldn’t be irrational because he’s just a very level-minded person.”

If only he was…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You didn’t want to laugh. But the more he dramatically moved his hips, the less control you had until you busted out cackling.

You caught him dancing to Bachata while he was washing dishes in his apartment.

Why were you in his apartment? You came unannounced to hang out, thinking he wouldn’t really care, until you walked into him dancing to his bachata playlist.

“You should definitely teach me. I see you listening to this all the time,” you said, giggling.

He jumped and turned around, giving you a scowl. “Ay dios, what are you doing here?”

You walked infront of him and put your finger against his lips, “Shh. You should definitely teach me how to dance this.”

He stopped and gazed at you for a few seconds before he went over which led you to twirling around and him having his hands resting at your hips as he helped you sway them.

You were going to probably scream into your pillow once you got home and cry since you’ve been going at this for 30 minutes.

You felt kind of bad feeling that way about your best friend, but holy-

The current song stopped and you felt his breath against your ear as he whispered, “I can hear your heart beating fast. Are you alright?”

HOLY SHOCK?

“I-“

Before you said anything, he interrupted you just studying your facial features. He studied your lips, nose, beauty marks. The silence was then caught off by him kissing you.

You felt your heart stop for a second before you returned the kiss.

He pulled away and smiled, “I see that you didn’t try to stop me, hermosa.”

HOLYSHOCKHOLYSHOCKHOLYSHOCKHOLYSHOCK

“I don’t think I should stop you,” you whispered, getting a low chuckle from him before he carried you bridal style towards his sleeping quarters and laid you on his bed. He barely came back from a mission and was still in his suit while you were in your regular clothing.

“I see, you like calling me ‘hermosa’? What does that mean?”

He smirked at you and pointed at you, “It means beautiful, just like you.”

You got up a bit from your laid position and kissed him even harder, pulling his weight on top of you as you both were drowning in each other.

“Oh fuckkk…” He groaned, squeezing your ass before he started attacking your neck, leaving you with red and purple love bites. He reached for your collarbone and stopped.

“W-Why’d you stop,” you whined. You didn’t know what to feel at this point. Here you were, with your best friend who you had a crush on, making out in his bed. Did he feel the same way? You had to pinch yourself before you could decide it was an illusion.

It wasn’t.

“I need permission. Can you-“

Before he responded, you took off your shirt and slid down your pants, leaving you in your panties and bra. “Continue.”

He smiled and started to play with your clit and kissed you at the same time, as you moaned in the kiss.

“F-Fuck, O’Hara-“ you moaned

It’s safe to say that you still couldn’t believe what happened next when he asked for permission again.

He pushed a button from his watch, placing it on his nightstand to reveal his almost godly sculpted body…and his very, very long member.

Your eyes couldn’t help but widen, which he noticed and chucked.

“Do you think you take it?“

“I don’t know, but I can try,” you muttered. You didn’t know what just happened with your newly found confidence but you were rolling with it.

He ripped your panties off and put a condom on. He then, aligned his erected member to your vagina and went in.

“It hurts-“ you whined before he kissed you.

“Just take it, you’re doing good right now, cariño.” He said as he moaned a bit, enjoying how tight you feel around him.

‘Cariño’…that was new.

That’s what Doña Rosa called her husband whenever he came at random times in her restaurant when the two of you were ordering empanadas.

That’s what lovers call each other, right?

It didn’t take long for you to almost pass out from his girth entering in and out, giving you a wave of euphoria and a bit of pain.

Your mind was rushing at different places, all while hearing his little grunts and moans.

You were probably going to be sore tomorrow but it’s fine.

“I’m- I’m about to-“

“Yeah, me too,” he said before you both finished, feeling him fill you up.

“Shhh, sleep. You need rest now,” he said as he kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered. He wrapped his sheets on you and patted your head. You softly smiled. It smelled like him and it smelled so good.

You recall him putting on some clothes and leaving, but thought he would come back.

You realized he didn’t when you woke up.

The only thing he left was a note on the other side of the bed you laid on, telling you that he felt every emotion opposite for love towards you. He wanted you to be gone from his life.

All you could do was just stare at a wall and cry.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Peter…are you sure that talking to him in person would help? I’m just-“

“Nervous? Yeah I get it. When me and MJ had our troubles, it’s always best to talk it out. Look at me now!”

“Peter, I’m looking at you and all I see is a middle-aged man in a superhero costume with a pink bathrobe, raccoon eyes, and a baby.”

Peter glared at you and rolled his eyes, “Wow I’m offended-“

You put up your arms, “Hey I’m sorry but that’s what I saw!”

“Mhm? Well, just talk to him. If he told you that in person-“

“He didn’t…”

Peter fumed, “Stop interrupting meeeee! Alright. That makes more sense then, honestly.”

You raised your eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”

"What exactly did he do?"