#i still don't know what that was about. i guess i turned the knob a certain kinda way that worked better.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Nameless, Faceless: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

x

You arrive at his apartment building in ten minutes and immediately head to the floor his apartment is on. The second you step foot onto the floor, you know something is wrong. The feeling in your stomach hasn't gone away, it gets stronger. You knock on his door but he doesn't come to it.

"Hotch? It's me, Y/N. Are you in there?" you ask and knock again.

You take out your phone and call him but when you hear his phone ring from inside, you know something is wrong. You take out your gun and try the door knob which is unlocked. You push open the door and get hit with a wave of familiar energy--George Foyet's. You walk in slowly and notice a few things off the bat. Hotch's keys and briefcase are still by the front door, his phone is on the kitchen table, and there is a large bloodstain on the floor behind the couch. Upon further examination, there is a gunshot in the wall, tables and chairs are turned over, and Hotch is nowhere to be found.

If Hotch is dead, you would have seen his spirit here. Though, he has been stabbed multiple times by George Foyet. How he got in, you're not sure but the entire attack is played over and over to see exactly what went down between the two men. If you're going to have hope in finding Hotch alive or dead, you need help from someone you know who can track him.

"Overtime shift. Penelope speaking," Pen says when you call her.

"Pen, it's Y/N. I need you to listen really carefully. Something's happened to Hotch."

"What do you mean, something?"

"He's been stabbed. There's blood on the floor but he's not dead. I would have felt him otherwise."

"Oh, my God," she gasps.

"I need you to send police and FBI techs here right away. Everyone available."

"Do we need an APB?"

"Only on Hotch. I saw his car outside."

"Someone took him?"

"Yes, I believe so. There's a lot of blood here and a gunshot in the wall. Just get people here."

"Okay, I'm sending an army."

"Pen, I'm gonna have to tell Spencer because he and Em are expecting me back but you can't tell the others. They cannot be distracted. I'm only telling you and Spencer."

"Okay. I'm calling everyone."

You hang up on her and immediately call Spencer.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Listen, don't tell Emily this but something bad happened to Hotch. He's been stabbed."

"What?"

"He's not here but there is a lot of blood here and I felt Foyet's energy here."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Is that Y/N?" you hear Emily in the background.

"I can't come back but just tell Emily and Dr. Barton that I'm away on an emergency. Don't tell the others. They can't be distracted right now."

"What's going on? Is this about Jeffrey?" Dr. Barton asks.

"No, it's unrelated."

"We only have a few hours left here."

"I'm really sorry, I have to take this phone call, okay?"

"What could be more important than my son right now?"

"I assure you, this will take one second. Please, I promise." Dr. Barton walks away and joins Emily's side to go over the files that Penelope has sent over. "What happened?"

"There's a gunshot hole in the wall. I'm guessing it's a .44 but there isn't any blood or tissue spray around it. Hotch wasn't shot."

"Any idea how he got out?"

"Foyet carried him. Hotch was stabbed but there aren't any blood drops anywhere. His body might have been wrapped in something.

"Is he...?"

"Dead? No. I would have felt him."

"Are bureau techs on the way?"

"Yeah, Penelope called everyone. She's the only one who knows."

"Alright, write down everything you see. We'll profile from your notes when you get back."

"How's Dr. Barton?"

"It's a huge list of cases to go through with him."

"Okay, I've got this here. You have Emily with you. Just stay focused."

"Alright, you too."

"What's wrong?" Emily asks when Spencer hangs up with you.

"Nothing. Y/N's been called away on an emergency not related to the case, but it's fine."

That answer seems to satisfy Emily but not Dr. Barton.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm confident that the three of us can do this together. We know he's been killing Hispanic males as surrogates. Did you separate the case files?"

"Yeah."

"How many of the surgeries fit the criteria?"

"Eight-two."

"Let me ask you this. On how many of those dates did you operate on somebody else as well?" Emily wonders.

"Seventy-five."

"Did any of those patients die on the table?"

"Eleven."

"That's where we start. This whole thing is about choice. He's forcing you to play God with your son because the last time you had a choice, your decision devastated him."

"I'm a doctor. I save people."

"It doesn't matter to him," Emily says. "All that matters to him is that you had an alternative and you didn't take it. Now, how many of those surgeries involve patients under twenty?"

"Six. I get a lot of gunshot wounds, mostly gang-related."

"Has a gang or family member ever threatened you?"

"No. At first, when you lose someone it's mostly confusion and devastation. The anger comes later."

Emily and Spencer go through the case files that fit the criteria and come up with six dates that could have been the trigger for the unsub.

"Alright, we have six dates where you operated on a Hispanic male on the same night a patient under twenty died. What we're gonna do is read the names and dates off to you, and you tell me anything you can remember, okay?"

"Okay," Dr. Barton sighs.

"Let's start with January 22nd. I have Tyler Hayes with multiple gunshot wounds. The next day, Brian Douglas was a hit-and-run victim with a lacerated aorta."

"No, not that one."

"March 15th, Devon Marks who was a heroin overdose, and Angela Harris who is another car accident victim in a single vehicle, bleeding into her brain."

"No, this is no use. I would remember if I was threatened."

"Did any of them ask you about your family?" Dr. Barton looks at the clock that is ticking down. "We have time."

"Okay," he sighs.

He tries not to think about his son and the danger he's in as he recalls the patients he's dealt with. The entire school day has gone by without a hitch but there are still a few hours before school ends. Derek, Rossi, and JJ have been very diligent in making sure Jeffrey and the other students are safe from the unsub.

"I talked to Detective Walker," JJ says, "The final bell is at 3:10. He's gonna have a SWAT unit in place at exactly 3:00 to escort kids out. We'll need you to gather the students at 2:45."

"This could all be happening now," the principal argues.

"If the unsub sees us evacuate early, we feel certain he'll kill another random citizen, and this also buys us a day to try and discover his identity. So, we'll have school buses for evacuation, and teachers can brief parents who are here to pick up their kids."

"The key is to keep Jeffrey isolated and avoid panic with the other students. If we can do that, everybody gets out of here safe," Rossi explains.

"Have you cross-checked all the records of employees in the building against Dr. Barton?"

"Garcia's on it."

Derek calls Penelope who answers eagerly.

"Y/N?"

"No. Sorry, baby girl, just little old me. You're out of luck."

"Right. Sorry."

"Did you finish the background check on everyone in the building?"

"Yeah. There's no red flags, no felonies, and no connection to Barton."

"That's god. Alright, I gotta go. There's about to be a bell."

"Alright. Be safe," she sighs.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Yeah, I hear you. Let's just get this kid home safe and we can all sleep."

"Right."

As soon as Penelope hung up with Derek, she called multiple hospitals in Virginia in hopes Hotch was in one of them. No one has seen or heard of a man named Aaron Hotchner, though one of the hospitals did have someone named Derek Morgan show up recently. With this news, she immediately calls you.

The FBI techs and police did come quickly while you stayed off to the side and replay what happened over and over again. You're not sure how Foyet got into Hotch's apartment but he waited for him and threatened him with a gun only to shoot the wall. They both got into it and knocked some shit over only for Foyet to stab Hotch multiple times. Every time you replay the scene, it leads to more questions than answers.

How did he get in? Why didn't he kill Hotch? Why stab him and take him to a hospital? Your phone rings and you pick it up when you see it's Penelope calling.

"Hey, what's up?"

"I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room. He's not listed as a patient but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."

"Foyet took Derek's credentials."

"Why would he drop him off at the ER?"

"I don't know. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call with an update as soon as I get one."

You quickly send a text to Spencer to let him know what's going on so he doesn't freak out about the state of his boss.

Hotch is in St. Sebastian Hospital. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call when I have an update.

Spencer reads the message as soon as it comes in. He knows Hotch is in good hands if you're the one looking after him.

"Are you sure she's okay?" Emily asks when she notices his worried look.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's just giving me some updates."

"I don't understand. These surgeries are all hours apart. I didn't have to choose between patients. If he's punishing me for my choices, none of these fit," Dr. Barton groans in frustration.

"Alright, look at the note again and compare it against the wording on the charts. A lot of times an unsub will unconsciously mirror the wording of situations." Something suddenly comes to Dr. Barton which is evident in his facial features. "Do you remember something?"

"I don't know. It was right after New Year's. There was a car accident. One of the victims was Hispanic."

"New Year? I have it right here," Emily says. "On January 3rd, there was a two-car collision. You operated on someone named Hector Ledezma. That was your only surgery that night."

"I remember that case. Someone else came in, but I didn't operate on him. His name was Jason Meyers."

Spencer calls Penelope to gather more information on Jason.

"Garcia, I need you to find a patient in the system named Jason Meyers."

"He was admitted on January 3rd on life support. Oh, no. He was taken off the ventilator and declared legally dead three days ago."

"Who is his father?"

"Patrick Meyers, age forty-five."

"Get a photo into the school immediately. I think he's our unsub."

"Okay, it's on its way."

Spencer texts you an update on the current case since you're doing everything you can to take care of Hotch, which you appreciate. You can't do anything about Dr. Barton and his son, but you can find Hotch and figure out what's going to happen to him. As soon as you checked into the hospital, one of the doctors met with you and took you to the room Hotch was in. The second you see him, tears form in your eyes.

"He was stabbed nine times, but no major arteries were hit. It's a miracle he's alive."

"When will he wake up?"

"The anesthesia should wear off within the hour, but he's bound to be out of it."

"May I stay here?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

The doctor checks a few things before giving you some privacy. You pull up a chair next to his bed and stare at his unconscious body.

"You better not die," you say to him. "This entire BAU is my family and that includes you. Do you hear me, Aaron? Don't die."

You hate lying to your team and hope they're doing okay without you. Hotch's medical chart is hanging off the edge of his bed. Your curiosity makes you read over it as if you're going to understand what most of it means. You're very smart but you're not medically smart. However, the initial L.C. in the top right-hand corner grabs your attention. It's the same initial the unsub left on the note for Dr. Barton. You grab the chart and find the doctor at the nurse's station.

"Excuse me, what does L.C. stand for?"

"Living Children."

"Thank you." You walk back into Hotch's room and call Spencer. "I know what L.C. stands for. Living Children."

"Are you sure?"

"Hotch has it on his medical chart. It's administrative. It's when they're afraid a patient's gonna go on life support and they don't have a DNR order."

"What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he's gonna leave his son without a father?" The sound of a door opening catches Spencer's attention. "Barton!"

"What's going on?" There is commotion coming from his end and you hear something that chills you to the bone. A gunshot. "Spencer?" No answer. "Spencer, answer me. Please." Still, no answer and you get tears. "Spencer? I can't lose two people I love. Please answer me." Instead of trying to get him to answer, you hang up and call 911 to report the gunshot. "This is Special Agent Y/N from the FBI. I need police and an ambulance to 120 Kensington Road, Mclean, Virginia. Shots were fired and a federal agent is possibly down."

Spencer lays in front of Dr. Barton with a gunshot wound in his knee from the unsub. The unsub was targeting Dr. Barton but got Spencer instead.

"Are you hit?"

"No."

"Get my gun. Get my gun!" Spencer urges.

Dr. Barton scrambles for the gun before the unsub can fire off another shot. Spencer grabs his gun and points it at the unsub.

"Get away from him!"

"Whatever you do, stay down," Spencer says to Dr. Barton before facing the unsub. "Drop the gun!"

"Don't protect him. He killed my son!" Patrick says emotionally.

"He did not kill your son. Your son was killed in a car accident."

"Stand up!" he yells at your boyfriend.

"I'm gonna ask you again, please drop the gun. I do not want to shoot you."

"Stand up, you coward!"

"Mr. Meyers, listen to me. Dr. Barton did not kill your son. Your son was killed by a car, and this is not what he would want. Okay? So, drop the gun. Please."

His words seem to get through to Patrick because he lowers the gun. Tears are streaming out of his eyes, he looks like he's in so much pain, and he doesn't know who or what to trust. Sirens can be heard from down the street no doubt from the call you made to 911. The unsub raises his gun toward Spencer and Dr. Barton.

"Don't do it."

"I'm sorry."

Before Patrick can fire, Spencer shoots him in a spot that's not fatal. Dr. Barton turns to Spencer to help him but the young doctor waves him off.

"I'm fine. Go to him. Kick his gun away. Make sure his gun is not near him."

Dr. Barton kicks the gun away before assessing the wound on Patrick.

"No, don't touch me. Oh, I want to die. Oh, don't touch me," Patrick weeps.

"I need to stop the bleeding."

"Let me die."

"The medics are almost here. Can you keep him stabilized?" Spencer asks.

"Yes, I think so." Seconds later, the ambulance and police arrive. "Hold on, they're right here. Help is coming, alright?" They get out of their car and rush over with equipment. "We need a backboard and a C-collar. Put pressure on this right here. Call ahead to the ER and tell them they got a GSW to the thoracic cavity, and have him redlined to the OR stat."

"You got it."

"Don't touch me," Patrick cries.

Dr. Barton approaches Spencer and inspects the wound on his knee.

"It looks like it went clean through."

"You might have just saved his life."

"Keep pressure on this, okay?"

The team arrives with Jeffrey, and Spencer nods to the doctor's son.

"I'm good, I'm fine. Go to your son."

Jeffrey and his son embrace in a tight hug while the team joins Spencer's side with worry on their faces.

"Are you okay?" JJ asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"We'll get you to a hospital."

"No, you need to call Y/N. She's at the hospital with Hotch. He's been stabbed by Foyet."

x

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

[ozarkthedog]

𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

summary: joel secretly watches you shower.

warnings: 18+ mdni. older!joel miller x afab!reader. dubcon -> reader has no idea. reader has a bush but no other physical descriptors. male masturbation. joel is a conflicted, dirty old man but we love him so. w.c: 1.3k

author's note: the title is way too sweet for this. thank you @ghotifishreads for looking this over!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel is a bad man. 

A very, very bad man. 

Still, he couldn't think of a reason to stop as he gripped the base of his cock and began to stroke while he watched you dance like a sprite under the flowing stream.

It was a miracle the two of you stumbled upon a YMCA this far from the city. Joel figured it'd be swarming with people or worse, but it was oddly barren aside from crawling vines and small critters living in the alcoves. 

It was even rarer that the water would still be working, but after you begged him with those big doe eyes, Joel checked it out. 

You wait anxiously on a pathway in the center of a large washroom, shifting back and forth on your feet between the shower stalls while Joel stands in one of the less scary cubicles. The room was a mess. Mud cakes the floor and walls; once pearly white tiles are now smeared with dirt. Various tiles and mirrors are splintered and broken. 

"'ere goes nothin'." Joel turns the knob, and the pipes behind the wall make a slew of thuds and loud creaking noises before a rush of water flows from the tap like a waterfall spilling over the edge of a cliff. 

"No, shit." Joel curses in shock and tests the water's temp. "S'ice cold." he hisses before stepping out of the tiny stall. 

You squeal elatedly. Uncaring about the cold, you move closer and cup your hands under the stream. You let out a soft moan at the frigid temperature. The unruly summer days were doing a number on you both.

Joel swallows hard at the sound and shifts his eyes to the floor before spying a few bars of soap a few feet away. He grabs two and tosses you one. "I don't know about you, but I'm taking a shower now," you announce, dropping your bag into the path between the stalls.

"Guess I should, too," Joel says, looking at the other, relatively clean stall across from yours. 

"You definitely should." You quip and playfully wrinkle your nose as you shuck off your shoes.

"Shut up." Joel bites back with a sly grin. He takes a few short steps and turns the shower knob. Sure enough, crystal clear water streams freely from the head.

"See ya when we're clean." you send him a smile before tugging your curtain closed. 

Joel shifts on his feet in the small space as he watches you pile your clothes on top of your bag from behind the curtain. He should keep guard and give you some privacy, but all coherent thought evaporates when he sees and hears you step under the stream.

Sunlight pours down into your stall from a window above, creating a tempting silhouette as you shimmy in the water and let loose an unrestrained moan. The sweet sound echoes off the washroom walls and slithers into Joel's brain. It races down his spinal column, and reaches home in his groin. His cock fills with blood instantly, forcing him to bite his cheek and mute his own moan.

"Ah, what the hell," he mumbles, setting his pack next to yours and closing the curtain to his stall. He's out of his clothes quicker than he remembers moving, chucking them carelessly on the other side of the curtain. His cock stands hard and raging, but he ignores it, choosing to step under the freezing stream with the hope it'll curb his arousal. 

"Fuck." Joel groans when the cold rains down on his sweltering body.  

"Told you." he hears you tease.

Joel shakes his head with a smile. It was by chance that your paths crossed. He wasn't looking for anyone to share in this new way of life, especially after Tommy left, but as luck would have it, you stumbled into his world at the right time, and now he's not quite sure he wants to live without you in it.  

He'd kept his distance over the last few months. He was too old to get caught up in sappy feelings and didn't need the distraction when life was on the line. However, that raw, gnawing need never went away. It took him a while to relax and feel secure enough to get off, but when he did, he was able to let go and succumb to the urges he remembered enjoying so much before the outbreak. 

He scrubs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, across his broad, hairy chest, expelling dirt and grime from his skin as it swirls down the drain. His erection still hasn't faded; if anything, it's even harder now as your airy singing fills the room. 

He teethes his bottom lip as he succumbs to the urge once more and curls a soapy hand around his twitching length, circling the girthy base with a tight grip. Blood pulses in the crown— a desert sunset red, throbbing and weeping.

Joel knows it's wrong, but he's past the point of caring. With his left hand, he eases the curtain to catch another glimpse of your inviting silhouette but gets more than he imagined.

A breeze from the open window above your stall must have pushed the curtain open without you realizing. It was no bigger than a small gap, but it exposed enough of your body to Joel's prying eyes.

His jaw clenches tight as his deviant gaze travels along the wet, soapy expanse of your body. Water drips from your hairline, over your clavicle, between your breasts, and trickles down your soft belly. A mess of droplets and soapy suds cling to the patch of curls that covers your mound. Joel's cock throbs at the sight of your bush; he always loved the taste of a sweaty, hairy pussy.

You wash yourself, utterly unaware of his stare. The knot in Joel's abdomen twists, an unyielding cramp cinching ever tighter. He swirls his large, slick palm over his drooling tip, expertly moving with the right touch, trying his quickest to get off before the floor opens up and swallows him whole.

His sac tightens, drawing up as an intense wave burns through his gut. He watches with shameless infatuation as you run your soapy hands around your breasts and between your legs before rinsing away the filth. He roughly thrusts into his grip, imagining it's your cunt as it hugs and swirls around him while he greedily fucks into your warmth. He wants nothing more than to feel you under him, writhing from his illicit and soothing touch. 

His spine curves as he hunches over and leans one hand on the wall for support as he comes with a mess of deep, broken grunts. Fingers scratch the tile, body quivering with searing pleasure as thick white ropes splash against the dingy tile; he pictures you gasping for him while he fills you to the brim.

Shame creeps in, swarming hot and fast like the midday sun after a summer rainstorm. He yanks his hand from his cock like he's been burnt when you suddenly appear on the other side of the curtain.

"Are you almost done?" your voice cutting through the white noise of the shower stream. Joel peers around the side of the curtain, eyes piercing yet sorrowful. "Yeah, gimme a minute."

For now, Joel shakes off his shame. He cleans himself up and haphazardly splashes the wall with water, washing away any evidence of his perverted seclusion.

"Here," he hears you say as you hand him his clothes. He opens the curtain a bit and notices your eyes are cast downward. Joel instantly feels the sharp fangs of regret sink into his flesh; you must've heard him. 

"Thanks," Joel mutters. His fingers brush yours as he grabs his clothes, making your big eyes snap to his before they curiously travel down over his bouldering, sun-kissed shoulders. He watches your jaw drop with a silent gasp, and your knees slightly buckle at the dewy sight of him.

"Be out right out," he smirks when you forget to let go of his clothes, forcing you to mumble a mortified apology before he closes the curtain.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he's not as bad as he thinks, and just maybe he might have a chance with you.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

[emomanswhore]

—♡ —SIMON SAYS . . . ❞

SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER

✯. !! Synopsis : so you like to play mind games with ghost? goodluck, cause hes got a few tricks of his own to beat these little charades of yours. when he comes home to remind you whos really the expert at games—simon says...your playtime is over

✯. !! WC : 8.3K

✯. !! Tags & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - hard dom!Ghost (he’s rlly mean), bratty! reader, sex tapes, masturbation (male & fem), choking/asphyxiation play, creampie, mating press, squirting, rough sex, spanking, subtle sir kink, size kink/difference, degradation, manhandling, orgasm denial, praise/petname usage, dumbification, dirty talk, (maybe?) prey and predator play, the mask stays ON. <3

✯. !! A/N : first fic and guess what, i wrote with my pussy on this one. hope you enjoy !! lmk what y’all think <33

Maybe this wasn’t your smartest choice in life.

Whether it's the sobering reality of sitting in the after-guilt of praying for negativity, or a complete backfire that could've made things entirely worse—most times, an action made purely from spite and pettiness, never ends up well.

This was one of those times.

Where guilt and the possibility of a backfire merged into one—a single, enormous, dark mass of gut bubbling anxiety.

You were given very, very simple instructions only a few days prior to this moment. And yet, all because your last few messages to your boyfriend were being left unanswered and open on seen, your willingness to take matters into your own hands—to finally get his attention, brought you more than you bargained for.

You had no idea what was truly in store for you once you decided to misbehave and break one of his very simple rules.

You missed your boyfriend, and while he was technically home from work for the week, he still had to go into the city for a few days to handle some business. And of course, for about fifteen minutes at the doorway, you kept fussing at him for leaving when he just got back home.

While it was certainly endearing to see how much you wanted him to stay, this was very important business he had to take care of. So all he could do was offer you a kiss on that pout you put up on your puffed up face. And as usual, you ate up every little crumb of attention despite not showing it.

“Shouldn’t take me that long before I’m comin’ back,” he pauses and looks at you, already knowing that glint in your eyes means that little brain of yours is up to no good.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by you and have shit go to all hell. Not until business was handled.

He moves in a little bit closer so you can really see the seriousness in his gaze, tilting your chin up a bit to meet eye to eye. “Just keep your manners in mind while I’m away for a bit. I will be back sooner than you think, so that means no funny business out of you.”

You wish you could deny the implication of him saying you don't respect his space while he was out at work. But truth be told, you did want him to stay home for as long as he could. And the mere fact that work was being put over you, made an ugly bile of jealousy creep up your throat.

Luckily, your boyfriend was smart enough for the both of you, so he already knew you’d throw a fit over him choosing work instead of being at home. To take the edge off the situation, he once again pressed a soft kiss to your pouty lips. Like clockwork, you immediately folded from the little gesture of intimacy he gave you and he could feel the pout dropping from your lips instantly.

“But you’re my good girl, aren't you? ‘Yknow how to behave till I see you again don’t you, little miss?”

And weak you were, as you tucked your lips into your mouth and nodded all doe eyed up at him. When he lifted an ashy eyebrow up at the lack of your vocal response, you blink up at him all pretty and promise a, “Yes sir, I understand.”

“Atta girl.” and that's the last thing he rasped, before turning the knob to your front door and exiting in total silence as if he were never even there.

That was two whole days ago.

You really missed him.

That reasoning alone is what you kept telling yourself was enough justification to tease him and send a very lengthy video of you masturbating while he was away from home. 

A video you impulsively sent to your boyfriend, Simon Riley, or what most only knew to call him by, Ghost. 

A mystery of a man and the textbook definition of an enigma, who only brought more questions than answers everywhere he went. No one knew too much about Ghost, not even what the man’s true identity was underneath the infamous skull balaclava he never left the house without. The very few people in his closest inner circle, or whom he had some sort of mutual trust and respect for, usually asked the same questions when it concerned you:

How did such a recluse man manage to get himself a woman?

Doesn’t it get tiring, trying to figure out what's really going on in his head?

Out of all the men you could’ve been in a relationship with, why choose a man who could possibly never come back home?

Well, it wasn’t an easy start to your relationship with Ghost. Like most people brought up, the man came from years of solitary and preferably worked independently. It took well over six years to get yourself where you are now with him, and there were plenty of times where you two experienced hardships in your relationship. Sometimes his straightforward and blunt attitude really infuriated you, and sometimes your stubbornness and hard-headed tendencies deeply vexed him.

But the two of you learned so much while spending time together and bonding. Eventually you both came to a mutual understanding, that communication and respect was the biggest key to keeping your relationship stable. 

Ghost only demanded the utmost respect, and you could live with that as long as he talked to you and vocalized what was really on his mind. Sure, there were still plenty of things he wasn’t quite ready— or ever willing, to voice out loud about himself, but it never wavered the deep adoration and love he had for you. 

He trusts you. You know he does when you’ve had late nights that you both lay in bed together, sharing stories and telling each other lame jokes as he gazes softly at you. Everyone knew who Ghost was, but you? You were the only one in the world who knew Simon, and earned all your rights to see just who the man under the mask was.

You are the light of his world, and as much as he hates to indulge into what you call your “Princess treatment”— or what he better calls “Bein’ a proper little rotten brat”, he almost always gave into your ways. It was all harmless fun and playful banter when you went out of your way to make things difficult for Simon. That was fine though, since it always only took one trip to the bedroom to remind you of where your place was.

Hell, you were one insatiable jezebel. You both knew that secretly, this little game of cat and mouse was just another way you kept yourselves entertained for years now.

That’s why you thought almost nothing of it, unlocking your phone as you rested your back against the polished quartz granite of your marble sink countertop. Humming the melody of a song that lowly vibrated out your living room’s speaker, nails making sharp click clicks while you played around with your device to get to the photo gallery app. Well, to a certain little part of your photo gallery that was only for Simon and your eyes.

You always did have an interest in film and photography, and you used that hobby of yours to make a few collections of sex tapes with your man. It was something you both found to be very entertaining and highly stimulating to your sex drives. Sometimes even shooting another movie while an older one played in the background on your TV.

Your leg started bouncing as you traced your bottom lip with your tongue, taking the time to look and reminisce on each and every little thumbnail of the videos. I miss him, you exhaled deeply out your nose, already feeling that heavy ache between your legs as you practically salivate like a dog in heat. Fixating your drooping eyes onto one particular thumbnail of just him— you remembered this, how could you forget? 

A hard, grueling day at work, when Simon couldn’t even fake like he was completely nonchalant and able to disassociate from his own need for you. All he wanted was to come home to that pretty little face of yours and show you how much he missed you. So that day he let all shame and pride in his body leave, as he sent his own video for you… in its entirety of ten whole minutes.

Ten whole minutes of his phone’s camera slightly coming in and out of focus, as he sloppily fucked his own hand. Keeping an iron grip on the pounding base, so you could really see how much he wished you were there, without him releasing into his palm too early before he could make his message apparent to you.

"Fuuckk… Fuckin’ christ…" Simon hissed through his teeth, the egg shell skull plate stitched on top of the thick knitted mask slightly muffled his voice. If anything, the loudest thing in the room was the slick wet sounds of his hand roughly working on his shaft, completely coated in the pre-cum that leaked heavily from the flushed and angry tip.

"Fuckin’ need you, princess. Look at what you do to me… fuck— ‘m gonna show you—" He groans deep from his chest, tilting his head back so far that you catch a peak of his exposed thick neck. Dark veins bulging and pulsing through his skin, as he twists his hand tighter on his cock, "Show you what that pretty little pussy deserves. ‘Gonna treat it real fuckin’ good when I get my hands on you."

You felt your panties starting to stick against the twitching lips of your core, now whimpering at just the memory alone of what happened in the rest of that video. 

It wasn’t fair.

How could he have so much power over you, to make you literally wet your panties from just the thumbnail of a video? 

It's so not fair. 

Not when you miss him, and want him so badly—  but he still hasn’t come home yet or updated you on where he was. It’s almost like he wasn’t even thinking of you at all. Like he didn’t even miss you-

Wait. 

Like in the scene of a child’s cartoon, you swore you heard a ding! And saw the hot flash of a lightbulb pop over your head. Yes. Yes, that's it! 

Your fingers worked faster than the better judgment of your self conscious did, as it took you another few scrolls down to get to the most recent solo video that you made. The one you made only a few days before Simon came home. The one he never got the chance to see. And as humble of a person you believed you were, you couldn’t deny how enticing you looked in the thumbnail of the video.

 It was perfect, too perfect for the little trick you had up your sleeve. 

The camera propped up against the little fort you made out of your pillows, aimed perfectly to capture you lying on your back on the king sized mattress. A pillow— Simon’s pillow, under your lower back to lift your hips up. Just enough for the camera to focus solely on the dripping, wet heat between your widely spread thighs. 

Your pussy practically leaking like a faucet, as you drag your ring and middle finger in and out your tight, gummy walls. Fucking yourself so sloppy that juices run out your gushing pussy, trailing down your hole, and all over simon’s pillow.

It’s a mess… from the little puddle you left on his pillow— that’ll surely stain, to your cum sticking like a web in between the tight trap of your messy cunt, and to the garbled whines you let out. A siren’s melody of your sweet voice, whimpering mixes of ‘simon’ , ‘miss you’ and unintelligible words that only make your soft cries all the more enchanting and hypnotic.

Even then as you rewatched the video, you couldn’t help but gaze in awe at how pretty your faces of pure pleasure were, and how good your pussy looked glistening in the low lighting. 

Mhm, this’ll do alright. With more click clicks on your phone’s screen, you found yourself glaring down at your last message to Simon— still left as seen. 

That was alright though. You could bet a million dollars on this next move of yours, and walk away with full confidence that this current plan is the right move to take. With that being said, you clicked the little plus symbol next to the text message box and scrolled through the attachment options until you found the ‘photos’ selection. 

You clicked on your video and made quick work of attaching it to a message you also impulsively typed into the box. Not a single thought ran through your mind in that moment, the pounding of your heart and your pulse thumping in your throat blocking all second guesses. You couldn’t stop now. 

Fuck it.

One more click, and the next thing you know… you were staring at the thumbnail of your head thrown back into your pink, plush pillow. Eyes rolled completely into the back of your skull, and fingers dug deep inside your soaked cunt with Simon's pillow mushed underneath your ass. It was saturated so deeply that the formally navy blue pillow took on a deeper, almost black shade.

And what sat at the bottom of your video, was only the icing on your tooth rotting cake.

sent: miss u baby <3 come home now or i’ll keep playing w out u

You must've been stuck so deep in some sort of trance— one that filled you with a sudden dark swirl of unease that curled its way up from your belly and all the way into your throat. This trance kept you still for a moment, until you jumped out of your skin and almost dropped your phone on the kitchen floor from a sharp buzz! 

Blinking a few times and putting your hand on your chest to keep your heart from leaping out your body, you refocused your blearing eyes on the open message inbox. Except now, your text moved up a little to make room for the new one that just entered the chat. 

Your message— no, your video was marked as seen. 

But the message your boyfriend replied with left you feeling very ill from just it's three little words, you thought you were finally looking forward to see:

seen: stay right there.

You swallowed the saliva that sat heavy on your dry tongue. Feeling that familiar thump, and deep ache in your core start to resurface once again. 

Maybe today wasn't the day for a silly little game with Simon.

No matter how long you spent your next few hours completing errands around the house, you couldn’t make enough distractions for your mind to stop thinking about what transpired earlier. 

As much as you wanted to feel bad that your little video may have caused some trouble for Simon, while he was at work— the bubbling swell of pride inside you, made a cheshire-like grin curl on your face.

It was finally happening.

Damned work or the ‘business’ he had to go settle. You finally got him to look at his phone. To look at you, and without a single doubt in your mind you just knew that thumbnail alone must’ve thrown him off from whatever he was so busy doing.

But now you were the one that was stuck at home, lying in wait for him to come show you what was truly in store for you.

Stay right there.

What did that really mean?

Was it literal? Did he believe that you recorded that video in real time, and expected you to wait for him in that same lewd position ? Or was it a warning for you not to try running away from home, before he could finally make his grand appearance. 

You doubted it was the latter, since you never ran from dick. So what could make him think you’d start now? 

All you could think about for the rest of your afternoon was just what he was up to, and when he was coming to you. Sitting in the house alone only made your imagination run wilder and wilder. 

You couldn’t live like this.

The anticipation was eating you alive. And it took every fiber of will and strength to not send him another one of your videos, so he’d get the message and hurry up. You already gave him enough power from almost coming in your panties from just the memory of him pleasuring himself. You were trying to prove that you always come out on top of these games of yours. And there was no chance you’d submit to the temptation of begging for an answer to his cryptic message.

So you figured the healthiest way to cope and keep your mind off things, was to cook. Not just any meal either— but some of Simon’s favorite dishes that you make for him. Even if you were still a little frustrated by him ignoring you the whole morning, you still wanted to cater to your man. After all the old saying does go, ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’. And your endgame was to have a hot meal ready for him once he comes home, then finally get him to jump your bones after waiting for so long. 

It was going to be another night that starts off with Simon showing you how big and bad he is, fucking the brattiness out of you, and ending it off with tender pillow talk. Even just fantasizing of how easy it is to make him drop everything to come running home to you, has your confidence sky rocketing through the roof.

As you prepped your ingredients, you plugged in earbuds and maxed the volume up to the highest it could go. Next to cooking, music was always the best way to stimulate your brain and keep your head full of happy thoughts. The two went perfectly together, and you sang outloud to yourself while concentrating on the strenuous task of slicing cabbage into slivers. 

Your music was slowly lowering itself as it came to an end. And just before the volume died down completely and transitioned onto the next song–

You heard it before you could see it.

A set of heavy thump thumps making the floorboards creak and rumble, approaching fast from behind you. 

Next thing you knew, a heavy and hot palm wrapped around the back of your neck and practically knocked the wind out of you, with how violently your whole body was whipped around backwards. Before your mind could register the sharp throb of your lower back hitting the edge of the sink, an audible gasp squeaked its way out your throat. 

There he was. Simon was home.

The signature skull balaclava and smudged charcoal coating his face under the dim kitchen light, made him all the more terrifying. And with the way he towered over your much smaller form, all you could do was stare up at him as if you were some dumb little deer caught in headlights.

His eyes were casted down so low, so dark, so devoid of emotion that he almost seemed soulless. Here stood the empty husk of the same man who murmured a soft ‘you’re my good girl, aren't you?’ after pressing a slow, honeyed kiss against your lips. 

You make a weak attempt to play off how excited you actually were. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing out loud in his presence. Mustering a shaky chuckle, as you tried to ignore the light press his finger tips made against your throat.

“H-hey baby. God, you scared the shit out of me. Y’know you can’t do that to me while I've got this knife in my hand.” 

Obviously Simon could care less about your little rambing, his silence spoke the loudest between the two of you.

 He continued to apply light pressure, steadily flexing his fingers deeper and deeper into your neck, so he could hear the way your stuttering voice hitched from the slight lack of oxygen. His eyes trailed down to your plush lips, and dragged even further down to shamelessly gaze at the enticing way your cleavage sat in that little lace camisole. You weren’t wearing a bra, and he could make out the perfect outline of your nipples pressing against the fabric of the dainty cloth.

And of course he saw it. The little lift of the corner of your mouth, then the way you crossed and pressed your inner thighs together.

All not-so subtle telltale signs, that you thought this was still some little game that you thought you were the genius mastermind of. 

“Anyway, you ruined my surprise for you,” and you still kept your fucking mouth running. “I know you’re probably exhausted, so i started dinn-”

“Only thing you should be starting right now, is makin’ your way upstairs. Get everything you’ve got on, off. ‘Wanna see your ass up and ready for me, by the time i get my shoes off.”

Oh. 

Oh. That shut your mouth up, real quick.

The abrupt way he cut you off completely, and the fact that those were the first words he’s said to you all night has you gaping up at him like fish. 

He only stares back at you with blank indifference. You can only give him that stupid little look, before you snap out of being stunned and continue to try talking your shit and having some control over him.

“O-oh but i was just—”

“_____” The sudden boom of his baritone voice raising, knocked whatever rest of words you had sitting on your tongue. No princess or sweet girl— just your full name in its entirety, that sounded almost like a curse with how venomously he spat it out. 

It was slowly starting to dawn on you, that this was becoming a very dangerous situation you got yourself into.

Your shock must’ve been extremely apparent to Simon, so he let the tension sit thick in the air of the room. Really making you feel the severity of the situation that was transpiring. All you could do was stare up at him, all doe eyed and pull your wobbling bottom lip into your mouth as he took two more steps forward. Somehow you were able to keep some of your courage in check, looking him up in the eye even as his head hung down to glare down at you. 

“_____” he finally continued his words, again starting with your name, only in a lower guttural tone. “You are in no position to fuck around with me right now. Only ‘gonna say this to you one more time, before things get worse for you as it is— go upstairs, take off everythin’ you’ve got on and lay on the bed with your ass up. Don’t want another peep out your mouth, ‘less you wanna see what happens when you’ve thoroughly tested my temper. Wouldn’t want that now, would you, sweetheart.”

Simon drummed his fingers against your neck one more time, before he finally released it and watched you let out a soft wheeze of air. He looked over your body one more time before he turned his back to you, the heavy footsteps of his steel toed boots echoed dully in your ear.

Oh. Was that your cue to start making your trip upstairs? 

Was that a test to see if you would even attempt to disobey him, when he has clearly had enough out of you for the night?

You loved a challenge. And even as you looked what seemed to be your demise in the eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a warm gush out of your core, come running down the side of your sleep shorts. 

One step he took towards the doorway, was another stride you took as you practically hurled yourself up the stairs.

5.

You skipped a few stairs on your way up, feeling your heartbeat hammering in your ear on the mad dash to your bedroom.

4.

Flinging your top off haphazardly in the middle of the hallway, you couldn’t help but look back a few times to see if he was trailing behind you. 

The pounding of your feet against the floor, deluded your ratting brain into thinking that it was actually Simon chasing you. The dull creaking of his heavy boots on the floorboards, still echoes in your head. 

3.

You nearly knocked the bedroom door off its hinges, with the way that you heedlessly flung it open. Your chest heavily rises and falls as you make quick work of getting rid of your soiled sleep shorts and panties. 

2.

Raw adrenaline courses its way through your veins, vibrating all the way from the bottom of your toes to the top of your tingling spine. You made it. You beat him.

 Simon could challenge you all he wanted, but he could never beat the tenacity that ran through your whole body. You smile to yourself, thinking you won the battle and proved to him that he had no more control over your mind and what was between your legs–

1.

You were very fast.

But Simon was even faster.

Boots be damned, he could catch up to you in an instant.

You let out a loud shrill shriek from the feeling of two hefty arms wrapping around your middle, and lifting you up into the air. Your world turns upside down— literally and physically, as you find yourself thrown over Simon’s strong bare shoulder, like you were some sort of light weighted object. 

“Times up,” You feel the deep timber of his voice, while your body helplessly dangles onto him for dear life. “Told you to have your ass up on the bed, by the time I got my shoes off.”

You kick your feet in objection— but immediately cease your protest and squeal, when his heavy open hand comes down hard on your naked ass cheek.

“Seems like you can’t handle or understand instructions today, can you, honey?”

His taunting coo’s only make you dizzier, after he so carelessly drops you face first onto the bed. Your body bounces lightly off the mattress and you whip your head around to glare up at him.

“I can understand!” you stubbornly argue back, watching him scoff and shake his head. “You cheated, I got here on time but you picked me up before I could do anything.”

Your eyes take in his current appearance– other than the mask he kept on his face, he stood before you in all his mountain of a man glory. 

He was so big. 

From the wide, broad shoulders that just carried all your weight on it, down to the lean and toned torso, sculpted with hard, rippling abdominal muscles.

You practically whimpered at how big and thick his thighs were. Almost ready to give in and beg him to let you trace your tongue on the rigid V cut of his abs, all the way down to the wisps of the dirty blonde happy trail on his pelvis… and get a taste of what you’ve been craving for the last few days.

His thick cock stood tall in the air, curving up a bit against his stomach from the weight of the heavy, fat, dark tip. There was already a bead of precum running down the side, where a prominent blue vein stood out.

You drool just looking at it. Your mouth waters and jaw starts aching, as if you’re ready to feel that hefty press of the head on your tongue.

Simon knew exactly what you wanted. How could he not know, with the way your eyes grew heavy and your lips slightly parted. 

“It's too bad, isn’t it?” he watches your lips part wider, as he uses the tip of his thumb to smear the little bead of precum across the length of the shaft. Fucking tease. 

“Could’ve been feedin’ you this dick, and lettin’ you get full off of it. ‘s a damn shame, you act like you don’t know how to do what you’re told. And you keep running that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

You puff your cheeks at him and kiss your teeth, “It’s ‘cus y-”

Before you could even think up an excuse, Simon cracks his open palm on top of your left ass cheek. Your loud gasp is like music to his ears, and he moves in closer to press that same palm down your lower back until you’ve made a perfect arch for him. He kisses his teeth back at you, looking at the drooling lips of your pussy already making your inner thighs wet and sticky. 

Spanking isn’t an unfamiliar thing he’s done to you, but to this degree? The force in his hits did so much to you. The hot stinging pain of it makes you wetter by the second. 

“Still seems like I’m not makin’ it clear enough for you, _____. Don’t even know how to take yourself upstairs and lay like i told you to. That’s the problem with you,”

He removes his palm from the small of your back. Winding his hand back far, just to bring it down on your right cheek this time. “Spoiled you and that sloppy little cunt of yours rotten. Can’t even get a fuckin’ job done without you fussing at me.”

Simon continues alternating heavy handed smacks on both sides of your ass, not taking a single break between his assault on your cheeks. Talking out loud to himself, as if you weren’t writhing around and whimpering from his merciless punishment. 

“Know what happens— stay still, when you wanna act like a desperate little whore? ‘Get treated like one. ‘Wanna act like you can’t sit and wait like a good girl? i’ll bruise this ass so sore that you won’t be able to get out of bed.”

His ruthlessness almost seems endless, and you start to lose track of how many times he’s striked your cheeks. 

Your whimpering turns into full on moans, fully turning your face into the sheets to try suppressing the loud sobs you let out. 

But Simon pulls your head back by the back of your neck, squeezing the sides of your throat, and giving you an even deeper arch in your lower back. “Can’t hide from this, sweetheart. You’re gonna learn to take what’s given to you, and stop being so fuckin’ greedy all the time”

He finally shows mercy on your bruised and flaming hot cheeks, deciding he’ll let you off with twenty two this time. He should’ve taken you over his knee and made you count the spanks out loud, telling him why you deserved each and every one. 

But the truth was, he was almost as desperate as you. Hasn’t even been anywhere near your cunt, but you soak the sheets as if that's the only thing he’s been playing with. His dick bobbed and twitched, at just the thought of your velvety walls wrapping around him. 

“S-Simon,” you babble and blink away tears that sit on your lashes. “Please baby, ‘m so close. I need you.”

Again, he kisses his teeth at you before putting his hand in between your drenched inner thighs. Listening to you keen softly, as he uses his thick middle and ring fingers to spread your thick pussy lips open. Watching your hole spasm and clench over nothing. Your little clit sticks out all pretty and swollen, just aching to get some attention. 

“And why’s that, baby, hm?” You’re so messy that he’s able to slip in his two fingers, immediately finding that little spot that has you squealing and pushing your ass back for more. He uses his other hand around your throat, squeezing it tight as a silent warning for you to lay still. 

“Why should I let you cum, when you’ve been nothin’ but an ungrateful little slut?”

You could cry real tears from him edging you like this. It’s never taken this long for him to make you cum. 

All this was so unfamiliar. Simon never dangled your orgasm in your face, and made you wait like this. 

It was time to drop the tough girl act, and admit defeat. He won. If it was for the sake of needing this pounding ache in your tummy to be relieved, you’d do anything to prove you deserved it. 

“Baby pleeaassee,” You’re unable to hold back the hot tears of frustration from running down your face. “I'm sorry, ‘m so sorry baby. Just please, g-god im sorry.”

You can practically hear the sneer in his next words, your hysterical sobs getting more and more pathetic by the moment—

“God? What’re you saying sorry to him for? God isn’t here to save you, silly girl.”

You feel the hot tip of his cock hovering over your twitching folds. He takes his sweet, leisure time to swipe the head through the sloppy mess of your pussy. Purposely avoiding the neglected little pearl, as he runs the tip up and down on your pussy. Getting it nice and wet before he’s pushing half of himself inside your sensitive, gushing walls. 

“But i’ll show you what heaven looks like, since all that’s been on your pretty mind, is gettin’ this little cunt of yours beat raw.”

Simon starts off at a brutal pace, pulling himself all the way out of your tight heat, before slamming all the way in. When he bottoms out inside you, your ass jumps and slaps against his strong thighs, making a sloppy plap. The bed rocks and groans, from the sheer ferocity and force he uses to split open your soaking pussy. 

Your voice belts out your throat, coming out as shrill squeals and moans. You go to reach your hand back to push yourself away from the deep strokes he gives you, but he grabs your wrist and pins it behind your back. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You never ran from dick before but this? It was too much. So much that you could hear the loud sloppy squishes of your contracting walls, working and squeezing around his length. The feeling of it all, sending you into hot waves of burning pleasure. Letting him have his way, and fuck you like he detested you. 

“Yeah that’s right, don’t fuckin’ move, or speak. Y’hear that? Only thing I wanna hear is how good this slutty cunt talks to me.”

All you can do is lay there and take it. He lets go of your neck, to snatch your arm and pin your other wrist behind your back. His thick forearms flex, the veins in them protruding out his skin as he uses some strength to rock you back and forth by your arms. You fear your arms may pop out the sockets, with the way he uses both of your arms as leverage to keep your body up and ready to meet his deep strokes. 

Your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your skull, with the way he fucks his fat cock into the depths of your core. You cry and sob a familiar melody that has Simon gritting his teeth, fucking into you at an even faster roll of his hips. 

“Know what this reminds me of,” His voice comes out as a deep rasp. He bows and leans his weight over on top of your poor little body, so he can press your face into the bed. Turning your face to the side, so he could continue murmuring into your ear.

 “Makes me think of that little video you sent. Reason why you’ve gotten yourself in so much trouble— ooh, naughty fuckin’ girl. Squeezin’ around me so nice. Y’like knowing I saw you act so sweet on camera for me? I was around my men when you sent it to me. Had to stop what I was doing, so I could see what you wanted from me so badly.”

You could barely understand what he was talking to you about. The deep rumbling of his voice, lulling you into an empty head and going dumb on his dick. 

All your fucked out little mind could do was blindly whimper and nod, just trying to focus on how the vein on the underside of his dick rubbed so good against your walls. You were so fucking close, you just needed more. 

“L-love you baby, mmm. I’m sorry,” You felt him lift a little off your body, and took the opportunity to turn your head more so you could keep eye contact with him. “Jus’ miss you so much, b-but i promise i won’t bother you. I won’t do it again. Swear baby, I swear.”

He only grunts in response, feeling his cock throb and get squeezed after he knocked the tip into your special little spot. “Only sayin’ all that because you need to cum. I can feel how close you are, princess. You’re gonna have to just wait ‘till I'm done having my fun.”

Despite that leaving his mouth, he grips your hips tightly before pulling all the way out. He shushes you as you let out another hysterical sob, and gets completely off the bed to go move closer to the edge.

 Honestly, if he left you alone like this you wouldn’t even mind. 

You thought a prayer to god for forgiveness. This abuse on your poor little pussy, was enough to make you ask for repentance. Never again would you make yourself go through this, and you silently begged that Simon would see the light too so you could be forgiven already. 

But apparently, god was not on your side today.

You felt his strong hand grab your ankle, and drag you down by the end of the bed. You started to complain until you were roughly turned to lay on your back. Now, you could properly see your boyfriends face— well, mask and the exposed eye portion of the balaclava.

You could see some sweat from his exertion, had ended up smudging off even more of the charcoal on his face. He only stared down at you, before he put both hands on your thighs and pushed them up until your knees squished against your chest. 

At this point you could only let him do whatever he wanted to your body. Not a single ounce of fight left in you as he settled between your folded legs, and started speaking to you. 

“Remind me again now, sweet girl. Whose pussy is this? Hm?”

You blink once, then twice. Even with the question being asked again, in an even slower way for you to comprehend, you simply couldn’t. Your brain was short circuiting, completely burnt out and purely running on the raw dopamine buzzing in your mind. All it could manage in that moment, was the soft mewl of a mmm that let itself out from the depths of your throat. 

Your mind so fuzzy, that the words ‘sweet girl’ coming from him only made you think of times of love and adoration. Times when Simon would make love to you; caressing your body, exploring and marking every single curve and inch, cooing praises into your ear.

 That’s it, theres my sweet girl. ‘Look so good takin’ all of me like a champ. Want everyone to see how good i treat my princess, when she fucks me so well. Gonna fill you right up, just how you like it. 

Only now, you weren’t being spoiled and made love to like his special girl would. 

You were some filthy little whore, and getting the treatment a bitch in heat deserved the most. A dumb one at that, and all Simon could do is chuckle to himself, shaking his head at how sloppy and stupid you looked. Not even the damn mutts in heat at the base, got silly like you were at this moment. 

“_____ ,” Simon slapped his open palm twice on the side of your cheek, listening to you whine softly before using the same hand to squeeze the sides of your cheeks until your lips puckered out. “_____ , focus right here— that’s it, right here. Listen to me baby, unless you don’t wanna cum tonight, you’re gonna stop wastin’ my time and talk to me nice.”

With what little brain fuzzy cells you had left to help you speak, you nodded and spread your thighs wider so he could see your swollen, glistening pussy and untouched clit. 

“ ’s all yours, Simon. It all belongs to you, so please help me cum. Pleeasse baby, I-I need it so bad.”

That must’ve been what he wanted to hear. 

 Simon plunges right back into the heat of your walls that welcome him in with ease. Only with this new change of position, you get filled in even deeper now. 

No running. You’re trapped and overwhelmed by the heat that radiates off his body, as he uses his heavy weight to fold you in half and press you deep into the creaking mattress. You can see over your tummy, just what he looked like when he battered the insides of your pussy. You’re forced to watch him dig his cock in and out of you. Hiccuping and sobbing at the sight of a creamy translucent ring made of your cum, completely coating the base of his length. 

“That’s right baby,” His heavy balls slap sloppily against your ass. The sounds of your skin clapping together, and his baritone murmuring echo in your ears. “Pussy belongs to me. So you don’t tell me when it’s time to come home and play with it. You wait for me and behave, when I tell you to. Understand?”

You shake your head, not paying attention to a single word he utters. The only thing you can focus on is the way he drops his dick perfectly into the spot you need him the most. 

“Ohh fuck- fuck, fuucckk,” You let out strings of curses, your legs already getting numb from being squeezed down so tightly against your tits. Drool fills your mouth and runs down the side of your lips. You can feel the bubbling sensation in your womb of your orgasm approaching. Your babbling gets sloppier and less coherent, as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. 

“Fuck yeesss, yes S-Simon. ‘Understand, promise I’ll wait and be— oohh… uhuh, right there, b-be good for you. It’s only for Simon. Whatever Simon says, it’s all for you”

“Shit.. that's it. There’s a good girl,” He groans deep from the bottom of his chest at your words, grabbing you by the throat and pulling your head up off the mattress so he can look into your glossy eyes.

Simon pulls his mask up, just enough to where the top of the cupids-bow of his lips starts. He flicks his tongue over the bottom of his lip, before he leans in to press his mouth against your open one. He swallows the wanton moans that come squeaking out your lips, moving his hand up from gripping your throat to cup your jaw. 

“Easy girl,” he mumbles inside the heat of your mouth, feeling your legs start to shake harder now. “Relax, you can take it. Take everythin’ I give to you and let me— shit ‘m close, let me fuckin’ fill you all the way up, princess.”

He reaches between your sweaty bodies to finally give your neglected swollen clit the attention it deserved. He uses the tip of his fat thumb to rub it in circles, grunting when he feels your pussy squeeze around cock. It was as if your body was trying to pull him all the way in, and never let him escape the gushing caverns of your walls. 

Simon removed his hand from your jaw, using his now free hand to press down hard on your soft lower belly. 

You shake your head in resistance, already knowing how messy you were gonna make this if he continued on like this. He must’ve known what you were thinking, shaking his head back at you and having no regard for your little babbles and sobs for mercy. 

“Let it out _____. C’mon, show me what a sweet girl looks like when she knows how to make a mess all over this dick.” 

The little band in your core snaps, and you swear you heard a little pop! from deep inside of you. 

You both feel it before you see it. Lips practically sealed together, and you both let out guttural groans in each other’s mouths at the feeling of your pussy spraying cum and juices everywhere. You made it real messy, drenching Simon’s stomach and splattering your ecstasy on top of the comforter of the bed. 

And at the same time, Simon snatches his lips from yours to let out a long series of curses. You feel his cock twitch violently from the depths of your insides, letting out a soft mewl when you feel the tip painting your walls and shooting out thick ropes of cum.

You nearly black out from the high you get from coming so hard. The whole room seems like it’s spinning, your hearing fades in and out, with static like white noise shrilling into your eardrums. All your senses are heightened, and you feel so overwhelmed by your vision getting blurred and fuzzy, that you decide it’s best to close and rest your eyes.  

Apparently you did end up blacking out. 

Jolting awake and blinking the blurriness from your eyes, you sit up from your position tucked underneath a new comforter set— you can’t even recall how you managed to make yourself comfortable in bed, or how you wound up in a new pair of clean underwear. 

You think you get the answers to your state of confusion, when you see Simon sitting by the edge of the bed with his bare back turned towards you. 

Oh, okay. He must’ve cleaned me up and changed the sheets after I fell asleep. 

Without turning around and facing you, Simon calls for you and tells you to come closer to where he sat. You huff, begrudgingly pulling yourself from the cozy warmth of the cotton blanket and crawl across the bed to where he was. 

“Baby, I’m so hungry” You pout, giving his bare shoulder a soft kiss before you go to roll yourself off the bed. “We should try ordering from that place Soap keeps talking about. I think the menu’s downst—”

“That can wait,” He grabs your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed, it’s so abrupt that you make a squeak of surprise when you tumble back down on your back. “Still got something we have to finish.”

He sees the utterly puzzled look you give him and can tell just how lost you were at this moment. Simon rises from the bed, towering over you and hums at the sight of you looking up at him with wide, expectant doe eyes.  

Since this is the first time he’s actually facing you from the front, you notice he holds a sleek, black handheld camcorder. Where did he get that from ?

Again, Simon reads you like an open book and starts explaining just what he was up to. 

“On my way home, this little thing here caught my eye and reminded me of something,” He turns it over on its side, inspecting it before he presses his thumb down on the power button to turn it on. “Made me think of how I had to leave from where I was at, and missed a vital proposal for work. Set back my plans, all because of the little video you decided to send to me.”

You gulped, already knowing where this conversation was leading to. You can feel a pounding in your core, your underwear starting to stick to your heat from the little bit of excitement that came gushing out of you. 

 “Since you do love your little films, you’re gonna make another one just for me. Somethin’ real nice, and a good reminder for what happens when you think about pullin’ another stunt like today.”

Simon pulls down the band of his grey sweatpants, his hard cock springing up and bobbing back and forth before it curls up against his navel. He sneers at how quick you are to roll off the bed, kneeling on the carpet to get on your knees before him. 

There was no changing or fixing the insatiable little minx that lived inside your body. 

“Now, eyes on me princess,” he aims the camera down at your face, flicking his eyes from your own half lidded ones down to the screen of the camera. “You’re gonna start off with ‘Simon says I’ve been a filthy little slut and been on my worst behavior’. Then, you can show the camera you know how to act like a good girl and apologize.” 

You nod your head, already going dumb from the commands he rasps. When he tilts his head down and lifts a brow up, you give him an audible yes sir and rub your inner thighs together in anticipation for what you’re about to do.

“S-simon says–” you pause, dragging your eyes up from the camera and into Simon's own eyes. 

You are a good girl. And as a good girl should, you made sure you kept your manners in mind, so he knew how sorry you really were. 

“Simon says I've been a filthy lil’ slut, and on my worst behavior,” you lean in close to his cock, looking him in the eye as you plant a slow soft, short kiss on the tip. Greedily licking up the bead of precum that caught onto your lips, feeling the little jump his cock makes against your mouth.

“So ‘m gonna show him I'm a good girl, and apologize like his sweet girl should.”

/tagging\ . . . @touyyes(<3) @noriken @hellavile @munsonsins

#ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty smut

[ddejavvu]

ok but my favorite criminal minds specific trope is when the team needs someone to be bait and the unsub’s type is reader, would you pls write hotch just trying so hard not to lose his professionalism when the team realizes reader has to play bait??

There's a knock on your door, and you hope it's Emily. She'd know how to untangle this dress.

"Who is it?"

"Hotch," Comes the reply from behind the door, "Can I come in?"

"Uh-" You stammer, lunging for your tank top and throwing it over your head, "...Yeah!"

Once he gets the O-K from you he turns the knob, peering into the dimly lit locker room that you've been using to change. The outfit you'd been provided is a strappy ensemble, but the strings are intertwined with each other like stray yarn, and you don't know how you're ever going to get into the garment.

"I can't figure this out," You lament, holding the dress sheepishly between two fingers, "I think this is made for wizards or something."

Hotch chuckles, reaching for the dress, "Can I try?"

"Be my guest," You nod, turning to a mirror on the inside of one of the lockers and reaching for a comb, "I'll do my hair in the meantime.

Hotch absentmindedly fumbles with the dress while keeping an eye on your work, "Pigtails?"

"Well," You grimace, tugging one of the ponytails tighter on your scalp so that it sticks up and bounces with any movement of your head, "You know what they say about pigtails."

Hotch's face takes on a similar expression of discontentment, "Right."

While you pin some of your stray hairs in place, Hotch makes a breakthrough. The dress comes untangled, hanging between his fingers like it should have on the hanger.

"Oh my god!" You marvel, "Are you a wizard?"

"I was trying to keep it a secret," He plays along, offering you the garment, "But I guess the cat's out of the bag."

"Thank you," You gush, taking the dress from his hands, "I can't- oh."

The dress warps in your fingers. It hangs limp in your hands; apparently you'd grabbed the wrong strings.

"Uh- like," Hotch reaches for it, pulling a few straps up from where they're sagging, "That."

"Oh. Right." You grab the ones he's holding instead, hyperaware of his fingers brushing your own, "Can- um, is Emily here?"

"No, she's out at the second scene," Hotch hums.

"JJ?"

"Talking to the parents of vic #3."

"Hotch," You hum cautiously, "Could, um- could you help me get this on?"

He's still for a moment, nodding slowly after he processes your words.

"Yeah," He takes the dress back from you, letting you fumble with the zipper, "Here, I'll- I'll close my eyes."

"Thanks," You breathe, watching him lower his hands until the dress is close enough to your waist for you to step into it, "So just-"

"Yeah." He nods, letting his eyes slip shut as you take a deep breath. You take your tank top off first, then your bike shorts, and brace your hands on Aaron's to get your leg high enough to step into the dress. He doesn't open his eyes, but you can tell he wasn't expecting the touch.

"Sorry," You hum, far too close to his face as you shimmy your hips into the fabric. You try finding the sleeves, mindful of the straps, and his breath hits your face when he speaks.

"You don't have to do this." He murmurs, his lips moving mere inches away from your own.

"Hm?"

"This," He jostles the dress slightly, as much as he can with it around your waist, ""If this is too much, you don't have to go undercover. It seems stressful to me."

"It is." You nod, even though he can't see it. The movement shakes your chest slightly too, and with the way Hotch is crouched, your boobs bounce just below his jaw.

You take the time that his eyes are closed to admire his face like you can't when he sees you. There's equal laugh lines and frown lines in his face, and you're glad he doesn't overdo the latter.

You slide the dress the rest of the way up your body, fitting your arms through the sleeves and securing them over your shoulders. Then you hum, 'okay', and his eyes flutter open.

They widen at the dress, a maroon garment that hugs your curves and billows out at the waist. You back away from where you'd been nearly standing on his toes, tentatively turning on your heel, "Could you zip me up?"

"Mhm," He nods once, reaching for the zipper. It puts his hands on your lower back and you barely contain a shiver, something that you'll think about long after tonight.

"There," Hotch hums, securing the clasp at the top of the zipper's track.

"You're sure you want to do this?" He asks, his breath now fanning over your mostly-bare shoulder. This time you do shiver, but you hope he doesn't notice.

"I have to," You nod, "I'll be okay, Hotch."

"Alright," He nods reluctantly, his voice soft and careful, "I'll be across the room the whole time if you need me. Just say the word and I'll be there."

You pride yourself on not collapsing at his words despite your weak knees. You nod, "Thanks." And finally turn to face him with a nervous smile.

"Ready?"

"Ready," You nod, and he steps aside to let you pass him. Despite having let you go first he reaches the door before you do, pulling it open for you and letting you lead the way out.

"Oh," Morgan crows from across the room, "Killer, baby!"

"The pigtails are a nice touch." Reid smiles kindly at you, "Did you know that-"

"Yes Reid," You put a hand up, not intent on hearing nauseating statistics, "I know."

He nods, blinking rapidly at being cut off. But he's quiet, and that's all that matters to you right now.

"Okay, Morgan, you're with me," Hotch commands, "We'll be stationed around the club just in case Y/L/N needs help. And Reid, you stay here with Rossi. JJ will be out soon. Let me know if Garcia has any updates."

"Will do," Reid nods, and Hotch gestures to the exit of the police precinct, letting Morgan fall into step beside you.

"Nervous?" He asks, elbowing you in the arm.

You take a deep breath, nodding, "Yeah, a bit. But it'll help, I'm sure."

"It will." Hotch assures you, heading for the team's SUV and pulling open the passenger door for you. He pointedly avoids looking at the hem of your dress when you climb into the seat as it rides up your thighs, and he even tucks the fabric into the car so that it doesn't get caught in the door.

"Good?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for your confirmation. When he has it, he shuts the door, striding around the front to the other side.

"I think boss man's more affected than the unsub'll be," Morgan snickers, and you turn to glare at him while Hotch climbs into the front seat.

"Morgan," Hotch eyes him disapprovingly in the rear view mirror, "Whatever you're doing, stop."

"Told you," Morgan smirks at you, hissing at the slap you land to his forearm, "Ow! Hotch, control your work wife."

"You probably deserve it," Hotch drawls, pointedly ignoring the work wife comment, as do you. But everyone notices the slight rosy tinge to his cheeks, and as usual, Morgan doesn't know when to quit. You're happy for the excuse to check your phone, even if the text does make your face flush hot.

Derek: I know he helped you get that dress on, maybe he'll help you take it off tonight ;)

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[mikobeautifulheart]

How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.

IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.

TEHEHE YESSSS

Not edited btw :(

Weak spot

Including: Yuji and Yuta

Yuji

You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.

Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.

You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.

Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?

First you looked under the couch.

Then his desk draws.

And then in the book shelfs.

Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.

Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.

You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"

You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.

"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"

"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.

"What were you looking for?" He asked

"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"

"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.

(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)

Yuta

You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.

You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.

Man this sucks.

You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.

Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.

You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.

"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.

You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.

A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.

"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.

"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.

"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen megumi #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #okkotsu yuta #yuta x reader #jjk yuta #yuta fluff #yuji itadori x reader

[james-is-here]

heheh Part two to my Jisung fic. OOH! I can also make fics of how Mn got into sleeping with the others if that interests you along with fics about...things that are hinted at in this fic.

Blog Tags: @binnies-binna <3 :) @heartbinn

Tags: No power specified but sub!chan/Dom!reader if you squint towards the end. Reader calls Chan Hyung/Hyungie/slut/cunt 🫢 cum swap, choking, blowjob/handjob(Mn receives), I seriously went on a tangent at the end so Chan is a bit 🤔 innocently provocative i guess idk, unprotected, fingering(Chan receives)

Still wearing a small grin while shaking your head, you look over to Jisung who was completely passed out. You sigh and walk back to the bed, picking up his boxers on your way, before throwing the sheet off him, dressing him then picking him up to lay him on the floor with a pillow temporarily while you rush to strip the bed and put fresh sheets on before picking the boy back up and putting him back on the bed.

You dress him in your hoodie from the floor after removing the flannel and tuck him under his blankets. With a kiss on his forehead, smiling when you hear him hum in his sleep with a smile before walking out, in just your underwear mind you, before walking down two doors. You didn't know if the other was still awake but you faked a cough in front of his door before going to your room to get a pair of sweats. You had a suspicion that they wouldn't last long on your body but you were cold and back in Jisung's room you didn't want to put jeans back on.

After getting the article of clothing, you walk back to Chan's door. You can barely see the purple lights under the door but no noise. Reaching for the knob, you turn it as smoothly and quietly as you could before being able to push it open to step inside. After closing it, you look at his desk, computer still open but asleep with a black screen, then you look to his bed. He's laying on his stomach, cuddling his pillow and his blanket was askew like he was covered laying on his back before rolling onto his front. You almost didn't want to disturb him, knowing how much all of you try to get Chan to sleep more, but the picture he sent lingered in your mind. It was so lewd and brave of Chan to send it to you, you didn't think he could do something like sending a post-nut picture to a friend.

On second thought...friend? I mean, y'all are friends but all of you know that you guys are sleeping with, at least, one other member. You and Jisung, Felix and Hyunjin, you almost coughed up a lung the day you found out about Minho and Seungmin that one day after practice. Though, you didn't blame Minho, Seungmin's sass that day almost had you wanting to fuck the brat out of him.

You were so zoned out you didn't even notice that Chan was now awake. In fact he now stood in front of you. When did he get out of bed?

"Mn?" His quiet voice brings you back to reality and your eyes meet his. "Hi, sorry." "Did you come in here for a reason or just to watch me sleep?" He smiled sleepily, his messy hair and droopy eyes just made you want to hold him close and cradle him. He looks so exhausted. "I had a reason but you look so sleepy." "I'm fine, what did you need?" He yawned into the back of his hand before he closed his eyes for a moment then leaned onto your shoulder. "Are you fine, Chan?" "Mmm, stay thinks so." "That's not what I meant and you know that." "Just tired is all." "Then I can come back another night." "Another night?"

He pulled his head off your shoulder to look up at you. You managed to beat Hyunjin's height, making you the tallest in the group by a couple inches and it makes you laugh when they all have to look up at you by just the smallest amount. "What was your reason?" He asks skeptically. "Well, in your photo, it seemed as though you still had a problem so I wanted to help." Your hands plant themselves on his waist gently as you rub your thumb along the soft material of his hoodie.

"Okay." "Okay?" "Yeah...but I don't want to do anything." "Tired?" He nods his head, your hands hold his waist tighter and its like that touch had him weak as he practically went limp in your hold. His arms move to wrap around your neck as yours wrap around his middle, raising his hoodie in the process to slip your hands underneath.

You were going to go further but the way he tightened his hold and buried his face in your neck, the furthest you went in the moment was wrapping your arms around him completely and squeezing, burying your face in his neck in return. After a couple seconds, you lift your head to rest your chin on his shoulder. "You sure you're up for it? Looks like you would rather cuddle." A whine is muffled into your neck but you hear a faint giggle as well. With a playful huff, you remove your arms from around him, bend your knees slightly, then grip his thighs to lift him up effortlessly causing him to gasp at the sudden action as you move to sit on his bed.

When settled, he shifted in your lap before pulling away from your neck, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he looks down. "You're hard?" "Um, yeah, we don't have to do anything though. We can just cuddle, it'll go away." He shook his head as if he couldn't let that happen, pulling away from you to move off your lap. "Hyung, you don't have to. Aren't you tired?" "I am but doesn't a lazy blow job sound good? You wanted to help take care of your Hyung but now let your Hyung take care of you." A pathetic whine rests at the back of your throat that you couldn't stop in time. He looked so soft and cozy while speaking such filth and your brain couldn't catch up as you instinctively scoot down the bed a little bit when Chan pulled your sweats down just enough.

He felt flushed suddenly as he sat back up and pressed his lips to yours, you gasped into the kiss as he wrapped his hand around you at the same time. You tilt your head with his as he climbs back onto your lap and slowly jerked you off. You hum against his lips before opening your own when he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. You couldn't help yourself when you giggled and pulled back. "Thought you were giving me a blow job? Got shy?" "Shut up." You laugh again at his shy smile and kiss him again.

He picks up the speed of his hand, he wants to pull away and watch his handy work but kissing you was addicting and he didn't even want to pull back when his lungs burned but he did, moving to kiss along your neck.

To be honest, he knew the others starting messing around and he's kinda glad he sent you that photo.

You're also a lucky S.O.B as your the first member Chan sleeps with.

He kissed all over your neck and left marks, you were so lost in your hyung's soft lips and touch that you didn't think about it, didn't think about the fact that you guys have a fan meet the next day.

Suddenly he stops and you can't stop the whine that escapes. "Hyung, come on." You watch as he stands up and removes his sweats and your disappointment disappears. "Oh." "Don't miss the blow job now, do ya?" "U-Um, I- No, Not at all."

Chan went to sit on your lap but stopped. "I don't..." He hesitated, straddling your thighs as he glanced between his hands and your eyes. "It's okay. We don't have to go full out." "No, that's not the problem. I just...don't have lube...or anything." "Oh." "I think I'll be fine." "No, hold on, it's your first time." "Mn-" "Hyung, it'll hurt. Trust me, I was stupid and didn't use anything my first time and it hurt. Let me go get something." "Okay."

He got off you and you stood up, pulling your pants up before walking out of his room, quickly dashing to Jisung's room to grab the bottle only to remember that you finished that with him so you leave the room and make your way to Hyunjin's room, amused to see Felix in his bed before you went to the bedside table only to see the bottle on top of it. "You fucking kidding me?" You mutter exhaustedly to yourself when you see the empty bottle laying on its side before leaving and trying Minho. How the fuck can you not find any lube?

You almost bump into Minho somehow and he stumbles back. "What are you in a rush for? Shouldn't you be sleeping for tomorrow?" "I'm trying to do something with Chan. Do you have lube?" Minho's eyes widen before sighing. "Bottom drawer." He said as he pointed to his nightstand and left to go to the bathroom. "Thank you Min." You whispered gratefully but before you went in and he walked away completely, he pulled you back by your arm and reached up to kiss you. "You empty it, you owe me." "Was gonna by more anyway since Hyun and Ji are out." "That's not the only thing you owe." "You can ask for that anytime." You kiss him again, biting his bottom lip before pulling back and walk into his room.

Finally you walk back to Chan's room and surprisingly find him lying in his bed politely, his knees are pulled up and his hoodie pulled down as he fidgets with the strings of his hoodie. "Have I ever said that you're adorable, Hyung?" Your voice makes him jump as he watches you walk back to the bed, discard your sweats, and sit in front of him, hands rested on his knees. "Um, not that I can recall." "Well you are."

With a gentle movement, your thumb moves back and forth on his knee. "Had to get this from Minho and he has a point. You sure you want to do this? We have that thing tomorrow." "I'm sure." With a gentle smile, you carefully push his knees apart and lean forward to kiss him.

Chan's hands cradle your face, his sweater paws making him impossibly cuter. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you tilt your head and slip your tongue between his lips. You try to pull back when your lungs burn but he pulls you right back. You pull back again but quickly move to his neck to stop him, your voice right next to his ear as a lighthearted giggle leaves you and you kiss behind his ear. "Mn..." He whines, laugh coming out of you this time. "I'm just trying to tell you that I'm gonna stretch you now. Thought you'd like a warning." "Oh."

You kiss all over his neck, you go to bite his neck under his ear, the same tactic you used on Jisung to distract him but he stopped you when your teeth grazed his skin. You groan, nipping at the place you were gonna bite before moving further down, pulling the collar of his hoodie down with your chin to bite the top of his pec as you finally slide a finger in.

Eventually you get two, then three fingers in him. He's whining, softly moaning against your shoulder as he holds onto you tightly. You adore that he's clingy, it is really adorable. "Mn..." "Yeah?" "C-Can you..." he trails off with a whine and you smile. "Can I what?" You push yourself up to look at his face, flushed red with plush, bitten lips and his eyes glassy. "...put it in...please?" How could you deny your precious hyung when he asks so nicely.

You remove your fingers, placing your hands on his thighs and guiding them to go around your waist before you brace yourself on your left hand. "Relax, Hyung, okay?" He nods, reaching up to cradle your face again to gently pull your gaze back to his when you looked down to watch what you were doing. "Hyung, hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" He started panicking slightly when you saw him crying, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face and graze your thumb over his cheek. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours suddenly and it wasn't messy as before, it was gentle yet firm, it almost made you dizzy with the amount of passion that was also given.

Chan pulled back, his eyes moving rapidly, almost gauging your reaction. "How..." He started before shaking his head. "Nevermind." "No, it's okay." Despite the soft moment, Chan still tried to go on. "It's nothing. Can you..." "Will you tell me if I put it in?" He thinks before hesitantly nodding his head. "Will you?" "Yes."

Giving him a quick kiss, you look back down, lining yourself up before pushing in. Once in place, you look back up, kissing along his neck and distracting him as you slowly push all the way in. Chan's left hand went from your neck to cover his mouth with the back of his hand, covering it but also letting some noises out. His moans and whimpers were noises you thought you'd never hear from him. "You sound so good, Hyung. So many others would love your noises too." You chuckled next to his ear. "Now, I won't move until you tell me what you were gonna say."

He hesitated, eyes closed adjusting to your size and the new feeling before opening his eyes again. "How..." "You can do it, come on." You kiss the corner of his mouth. "It's okay, Hyung. Whatever you say I won't judge, you know that." You mutter as you kiss along his jaw. "Who were the firsts?" You pull back, looking at Chan. "Me and Hyunjin." "After that, wh-when more of you started..." You smile gently. "Fucking?" "Uh, yeah...How did none of you not...catch feelings?" You smile fully, planting a big kiss on his lips as you reward him for asking his questions by pulling back and thrusting back in, drawing a moan out of him. "Who said we didn't?" You smirked in return as you slowly picked up speed.

Your thrusts got harder overtime and Chan's noises eventually got muffled by your lips, your tongue claiming his mouth as you swallow his noises. You're both lost in the pleasure --with you hitting that one good spot in Chan repeatedly and Chan's tightness surrounding you-- that neither of you truly process the fact that you started leaving marks along his neck. He thinks that you licking and sucking his neck is the best feeling, he also realizes how sensitive he is.

Since starting, you finally moved his hoodie, sliding your hand underneath. Chan's breath hitched, you've touched his abs before but not in this setting, your nails gently dragged over the skin, over the toned muscles of his body before your hand moves to his hip and squeezed then moved to squeeze his thigh. Your touch was gentle and it made him dizzy at the same time. "M-Maybe I should've- Oh shit~" He moans and arches up into you when your nails grazed his pelvic area, super sensitive and has him trying to move back into you.

He whines when you pull out before letting out a gasp of surprise when you got off him then pulled him onto your lap with ease. "I-I guess being Changbin's gym twin is true." That gets a laugh out of you as you grip his thighs, pulling him further up before moving your hand to his hip and one guiding yourself back into his tight hole then pulling him down to sit on your lap completely, fucking into him deeply with one thrust, hitting his prostate dead on. "Shit~" He moans, weakly draping his arms over your shoulders and leaning onto your shoulder. "So tight, Hyungie. You feel so fucking good." Whining, he begins moving on your lap, rocking his hips back and forth, getting use to the new position before he readjusts his legs straddling you to start gently riding you.

The new position seemed to have you reach deeper inside him, still hitting all the right spots and with how close he's sitting to you, his leaking tip making a mess of your toned stomach but the feeling of your bare skin on his dick felt good. Your hands move to his ass, squeezing before moving to his waist above his hips, an almost bruising grip on his sides has he helps him bounce.

One of your hands move to wrap around Chan, pumping him quickly then switching to slow strokes, rubbing your thumb over his tip then stroking him once with a tight fist before letting go when you reach the tip. "Fuck~ Y-You are- Shit, ah~" He couldn't even get a full sentence out. "So good~" He settles with and you chuckle. "Have I really fucked you dumb? I've barely done anything." You stop his bouncing, wrapping your arms around him as you sit up from leaning on his headboard before thrusting into him again, thrusting up into him at a fast pace. The moan he lets out is the first one he's let out freely, "Fuck~ G-Gonna- ah~" You thrusted deeper and faster, abusing the sensitive spot inside of him repeatedly and his dick rubbing on your abs, his pre-cum making the contact sticky and slick and with a particularly hard thrust and you sucking a mark under his ear, his cum stains your stomach and chest.

He moans freely next to your ear, you pull him flush against your lap as his cum gets on his hoodie as well. He rocks his hips back and forth, riding through his high as he revels in the pleasure and marks up your neck like you did his. His lips were so plush and soft against your neck, hot with every press, bite, lick, and suck. He was addicted to marking you as you were to him, the consequences of doing such is a problem for tomorrow.

He pants, his rocking slowing down as he moves to kiss you gently before pushing himself up and off your lap, a groan builds from your throat at the loss before Chan gently pulls you to the edge of the bed and gets on his knees. You see his intentions and lean back to get a pillow and put it in front of him. You'll have consequences for the hickeys, don't need any for Chan's knees being in pain and bruised.

When he got comfortable, he took your cock into his hand, it was oddly cold and it had you gasping out a curse as you spread your legs slightly to give him more room. He starts at a fast pace as he pushes himself up slightly. "Oh shit." You moan as you lean back onto your elbows as he cleans up his mess, licking all over your abs and licking up his own cum. When he got the majority of it, he sat back and showed you his spunk on his tongue. "Shit, you are so dirty, Hyung." Then you chuckle when you see a small flash in his eyes, taking him by surprise by grabbing his neck and squeezing slightly, eliciting a surprised gasp and small moan from him. Seeing your hyung like this, at your fingertips, drove you crazy. Yes, you had Minho in the same spot somehow but he was bratty while Chan obeyed you.

You lean down as Chan's strokes slow down to give him an open mouth kiss, tangling your tongue with his and mixing his cum with your spits, he moans at the whole action as you pull back, smirking when Chan keeps the mixture on his tongue. "Swallow, Channie-Hyung." He closes his mouth, swallowing all of it before opening his mouth again to show you. "You...are such a slut, Hyung, fuck." You grin as you kiss him again. "How would you feel about being called a good slut, huh? Cause you are." He moans as his hand almost subconsciously moves again to stroke you. "I wanna know what else that mouth does."

With that, you let go of his neck and lean back again as he moves forward and presses his lips to your tip. You thought his lips were soft on your neck but it's almost like they're softer as they trail down your shaft and back up to the tip before wrapping them around the tip. His tongue then swirls around the head, dipping into the slit, then taking you to the back of his throat. His reflex kicks in and that's when it hit you, how is he so fucking good for it being his first time?

Your dick was the first he's taken and his desire may have clouded reality but he still keeps going, focusing on the vein on his tongue as he tried to relax. You notice his attempt, combing your fingers through his fluffy hair in appreciation. You were about to tell him to breath through his nose if he wants to go further but he beat you to it, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose before he went down on the rest of your length. "Shit~" Moaning, you grip his hair, drawing a moan from Chan who pulls back with a gasp. "Are- Shit, you sure I'm your first?" You ask, genuinely shocked that he could do that. "Yeah." He blushes, suddenly really shy when he realizes what he did. "Fuck, you're really good. So good." "I'm good?" He asks softly, contradicting his actions as he places your tip on his tongue, moving his hand away so its weight rests on it.

"You-" A laugh escapes as he smiles, mouth still open as he rests more of your length on his tongue. "You fucking cunt, you can't ask me that so innocently while you look like this." He chuckles before wrapping his lips around you again. "You're so good. Such a good cocksucker. Or do you want to be called a good boy? Is hyung a good boy?" He moans, looking up at you as he takes all of you down his throat again, hallowing his cheeks and swiping his tongue everywhere he could reach as he bobs his head. You were long enough that his throat constantly tightened around your tip whenever he swallowed the pooling amount of saliva, occasionally forgetting to cause the weight and feeling of your cock in his mouth was addicting which caused some spit to cover his chin and drip down your length.

"Fuck, Hyung, please don't stop. Gonna- Fuck, Gonna cum." He stops at your base, deep throating as he swallows around you. The feeling of his throat, his tongue, and just the main thought that your hyung is on his knees, swallowing your dick, had the coil inside you snapping quickly. He lifted his head, keeping the tip in his mouth as he took your load almost happily, moaning as it also shot to the back of his throat. "Oh, shit, hng~" You whine as you brush your hand through his hair, panting as you try to catch your breath.

Chan pulls off you, showing you your cum on his tongue. "Swallow." He whines, looking up at you desperately. "Oh my god." You shake your head, hand moving from his hair to his throat as you pull him up and kiss him, biting his tongue and bottom lip before pulling back, watching him swallow your load this time and then show you it's gone. "God...If he wasn't with Hyunjin earlier, Felix would've loved you." "Felix!?" He asked shocked, eyes widened as he stares up at you. "Yeah." You smirk, reaching down to take his hand in yours and pull him into the bed before you notice more cum on his hoodie.

"Did you cum again?" He looks down shyly as you pulled the soiled clothing off him and threw it on the floor. "Yeah..." "How can you be so shy and adorable but sexy as hell at the same time?" "I don't know what you mean." He plays innocent as you pull him onto your lap. "Oh really? Were you not just on your knees, grinning cock drunk with my tip on your tongue?" "You can't- Fucking cunt." You laugh as he buries his burning face in your neck and wraps his arms around your neck. You slide down the bed, getting under his blankets with him and laying on your sides. Chan curled up into you, your right arm around his shoulders and left around his waist as his hands are between your bodies.

Before you passed out, Chan taps your chest, you hum in return, eyes closed. "Can we spoon?" "Yeah." You mumble and are shocked to suddenly have his hand back on you. "Are you wanting to cock warm?" He nods as he flips to his other side, whimpering when you do enter before relaxing, your arms wrap around him, his hands resting on yours around him tightly when you pulled him further into you.

You'll regret the consequences for the hickeys later, the only thing you regret is not asking if he wanted to do something sooner.

Hours later, surprisingly seven hours later, you slowly wake up, long been slipped out of Chan who now lays on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle and yours wrapped around his shoulders and the other resting on your stomach.

You're trying to gauge what woke you up. Bathroom? Weird dream? Full nights rest?

With a grunt, you stretch lazily and attempt to open your eyes. They eventually flutter open and the first thing you see is Chan's door cracked open. A bit confused, you shrug it off, going to turn on your side to cuddle Chan when you process the weight on your lap.

If Chan is in your arms, then who-

Your eyes flutter open again to find the answer to the opened door.

"Holy shit." You mutter quietly, letting out a stuttery, soft moan when you finally feel a suffocating tightness around your length, thick thighs encasing yours and your body suddenly going warm as your eyes meet another set of boba eyes and a flushed face.

His hands slide from your pelvis up to your chest as he leans down slightly and you're still shocked speechless.

"Morning, Mn."

"Shit...Changbin-Hyung..."

Oh my god, and I thought Jisung's cliff hanger was good, shit.

Obviously...I'm gonna do the next part.

Kinda digging myself a hole but I have an equal balance of what I'm writing, let's hope I can keep it balanced but if not, I'm gonna have to take a slight break from either Day in a life, drafts build up, cliffhanger continues, or posting in general.

I have adhd and I tend to have too many ideas and then I kind of overwhelm myself but ignore it and carry on.

If I can't carry on at some point, I hope y'all won't mind me taking a pause.

Besides that, Chan's part is done!! 🥳 Hope the wait was worth it. 😅

#Sleeping Around by James #random #stray kids #straykids #bang chan #stray kids x male reader #bang chan x male reader #bttm bang chan #top male reader #hyunjin #lee felix #lee know #changbin #jeongin #seungmin

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?" 

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago. 

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on. 

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?" 

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!" 

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase... 

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall. 

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground. 

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?" 

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?" 

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?" 

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez." 

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys." 

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

#x reader #stranger things #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x female reader #yandere x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #yandere steve harrington #yandere eddie munson #yandere billy hargrove #.right way up #billy hargove x reader

[allbark-no-bite]

kiss me and apologize || Carmen Berzatto x reader

summary: from private chef to working in a rundown restaurant in Chicago, your life does a 180 as you try to fit into the world that is the Beef. Richie isn’t helping and Carmen just can’t figure you out

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, mentions of michael’s death/suicide

author’s note: so um i guess i write for the Bear now?? official obsessed with the show and was inspired by all of the great writers that write for Carmy on here :)

"Carmen? The door?"

"What—? Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He turns towards the door, fumbling for the key with numb fingers, his face burning hot.

He wasn't used to anyone else besides himself showing up to the restaurant so early in the morning, and he definitely wasn't used to you and your pink cheeks and and warm smile greeting him at the door. You were a new hire to the Beef, a godforsaken miracle dressed in oversized overalls who had shown up two weeks ago and been hired by Sydney on the spot.

She had been smitten with you from the start, dead set on hiring you without so much as a second interview.

"—studied in Copenhagen, worked at multiple Michelins in New York. I mean look at this, Carmen. She's a private chef in the Hamptons. We would be stupid not to hired her."

And you were great. You are great. Except for the fact that you're really fucking distracting.

"You sure you got it, chef?"

Carmen can't even blame the heat rising from his cheeks from the cold at this point because his hands are sweating as he jiggles the door knob that somehow always seems to get jammed at the worst possible moments. This is one of those moments.

Finally, he hefts his weight against the door while twisting the knob and it busts open. A muffled snort escapes you from behind him. Carmen steps inside, holding the door open for you with a small wave of his hand. "Sorry. I'm sure this crap isn't what you were expecting when you applied here—"

He's rambling, stomach twisting in knots. His nerves always screw up his stomach—maybe he'll pop a few Tums before—

"It's fine, Camren," you assure him, stepping in from the cold, body pressing against his in the small entry way. "I like it here."

I like you.

"Yo, am I interrupting something, cousin? You and the princess wanna take that shit somewhere else?" Richie's shout can be heard from all the way across the parking lot, and it makes Carmen visibly cringe.

"Fuck off, cousin," Carmen mutters, reluctantly breaking away from you.

Still standing in the doorway, you huff, whatever moment you and Carmen had shared broken by Richie's arrival. The taller man stomps up the front steps, shaking snow from his boots.

So far, he had been the only staff member you found unbearable. Even Tina had warmed to you after a few weeks and now took great pleasure in listening to your elaborate stories as a private chef. Richie, on the other hand, hated your guts.

"You just gonna stand there and let all the fuckin' cold air in? I'll let Sugar know to take the heating outta your paycheck."

"Fuck off, Richie."

The morning is only the beginning of his wrath.

——

"Richie, you fucking imbecile—"

"Every single time you open your mouth, all I hear is this fuckin' bullshit. Jesus, you're so fuckin' high and mighty with your fancy ass college degree," he sneers, looming over you. If he stepped any closer you would have lacked the self control not to hit him. "You wanna come in here, act like you know everything because daddy sent you to school—"

"You don't have to fucking like me, Richie, but what you're not going to do is push me around and be an egotistical misogynist just because you have a set of balls. So give me my fucking knife."

Richie's hand is in the air beside your head, waving about in wild gesticulation that he does not have your knife, or any fucking knife for that matter. "I don't have your shit!"

With your jaw clenched together, you breathe in deeply through your nose and take in the taller man through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. "Fine." You turn on your heals and storm off. "CARMEN."

Richie throws his hands up and scoffs at your retreating back, yelling after you. "Ohh go ahead, fuckin' call mommy. Like I'm scared of him," he snorts.

"CARMEN!" Your fury only fueled by Richie's taunts, your stride quickens as you shove your way through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging both Sydney and Marcus.

"Woah, chef. What's the matter?" Sydney asks as you whip past her, her hands busy with mashing potatoes, but you don't stop to answer, instead rounding the corner like a woman on a mission.

"CARMEN—"

"—What?!" At the third sound of his name, Carmen finally jerks his head up from his prep station, only to be met with you head on. "What's going on, chef?" he repeats, looking back down to his station after taking in your vexed disposition and gathering that no one's dying. He puts on these sort of metaphorical blinders once he's in the kitchen and nothing, not even you, is going to distract him from what he does best. He becomes an entirely different animal in the kitchen.

"That fucking dickwad has my knife and he won't give it back. How am I supposed to—"

Still urgently chopping carrots, Carmen cuts you off. "Chef, just get another knife," he instructs, stepping around you to dump a pile of sliced carrots into the bin.

His dismissal throws you for a loop and leaves you open mouthed, protest caught in your throat. Just this morning he had been stuttering nervously, cheeks flushed as you stood waiting for him to unlock the staff door. Now he's biting and abrasive, domineering in the way he takes control of the kitchen. You know he's just doing his job, doing whatever it takes to keep his head above the water—keep everyone's head above the water, but right now you want to scream at him. "Just tell him to—"

"Yes, Chef," he provides, indicating that he's done refereeing yours and Richie's squabble. He moves across the station so that you have to step sideways to avoid being in his way.

"But I—"

"Yes, Chef?" Carmen effectively cuts you off with a hard stare, momentarily stopping his urgent chopping. His blue eyes are fixating despite their look of wild urgency.

When it becomes obvious that arguing your point further is going to get you nowhere, you nod, growling a reluctant, 'Yes, Chef.'

If Carmen notices your attitude, he either pointedly ignores it or is too busy shouting at Tina about onions to care. You grab a knife laid out at one of the empty stations, purposefully shoving Richie as you round the corner.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Mommy didn't take your side?" he calls from the expo station "Didn't fuckin' see that coming."

You ignore him, deciding that he's not worth anymore of your energy for the time being. There's an entire rack of ribs that needs to be sliced and it's going to take you twice as long with this poor excuse of a knife.

"Chef, how are those ribs coming?" Sydney calls amidst the kitchen chaos. "Doors open in fifteen minutes."

Glancing at the digital kitchen clock, panic sets into you as you realize just how much time you've lost. "Fuck," you mutter, more to yourself than anyone. "Ahh—I'm going to need at least twenty," you shout back.

"What? What's taking so long?" Sydney asks. You can hear her moving behind you, finishing up with her own prep.

"Yeah, what's takin' so fuckin' long?" Richie chimes in.

Your grip on the knife's handle tightens, but you don't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his words. "I'm working on it, Syd," you promise her, praying you can somehow speak that confidence into existence.

Richie is still running his mouth behind you. "Y'know, maybe you just aren't cut out for this. It's not too late to go back to makin' your fancy little hors d'oeuvres up in New York."

"Screw you, Richie," you mutter, your brow furrowed as you concentrate on cutting through the ribs. The knife is hardly cutting and it's taking everything in you not to just start hacking away and be done with it.

"This ain't a cocktail party. This is a real fuckin' business, and we don't need you over here messin' us up and screwin' around—"

"Screw. You. Richie."

"What was that? Can't hear you, princess," he taunts.

Just as you turn to open your mouth, ready to snap at him, the knife hits a dull spot and slips against your grip, catching your fingers along the way. Immediately you jerk your hand back, biting back a cry. The knife clatters to the ground at your feet.

"Fucking dammit!" you exclaim, clutching your bleeding fingers with your other hand.

"Oh now you've really fuckin' done it," Richie laughs, shaking his head.

You only glare at him before muttering, "Move," as you shove past him. To his credit, he doesn't say anymore as you shoulder him out of the way.

By the time you get to the back sink, there's blood seeping from between your gloved fingers and onto the floor. You have to fight back a whimper as you peal away the latex from your skin.

"Woah, woah— what the hell??"

Hands appear beside you, grabbing your own bloody hand and wrapping it tightly in a clean kitchen rag. You close your eyes, willing yourself not to faint. The pressure stings but serves to staunch the blood flow and relieve some of your dizziness.

When you open your eyes, Carmen's blue ones are staring at you worriedly. "You good, chef?"

You close your eyes again, this time not because you're dizzy, but rather to avoid the intensity of his stare. "Yeah," you manage hoarsely, finding your voice. "Yeah. Just bandage me up okay? I've still got prep to do."

Even with your eyes closed you can still feel his eyes on you. He's so close that you can feel the brush of his body against yours.

"Yeah, okay," he finally says, but you can hear the hesitation in his voice. Immediate loss fills your body as he pulls away, but then he's pressed up against you again, holding your fingers steady as he wraps them up.

It hurts and you want so badly to just let go of the cry of pain and frustration that you're holding back. But instead you bite the inside of your cheek and watch Carmen bandage your fingers like he's done it a hundred times before. When he's done, he draws your hand up to his mouth and tears the tape with his teeth. You force back a swallow when his lips brush your skin.

"This okay, Chef?" he asks, looking up at you with those ridiculously anxious blue eyes—anxious like he's always got somewhere to be, something to do, something on his mind. Now they're focused entirely on you.

Somehow you find your voice. "Y-yeah—yeah, thank you." You pause, still staring at him, not moving. "I, um—I should go finish prep..."

"Okay," he answers softly.

"Okay."

"—Hey." Before you turn to slip out of his office, Carmen calls after you. He raises a fist to his chest, tracing it clockwise over his heart.

I'm sorry.

Your brows furrow at his apology. "Carmen, it wasn't your—"

"Yes. It was," he clarifies, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the desk. "I blew you off earlier and you got hurt because of it... So I'm sorry."

From the doorframe, you offer him a half smile.

"Apology accepted, Chef." And then you leave him before he can say anymore, slipping back out into the chaos of rush hour.

——

You do end up finishing you prep before opening. Your fingers hurt like a bitch, and you may need to visit a 24 hour clinic on your way home for a few stitches, but you make it though. Rush hour was hell, your head hurts from both screaming and being screamed at, but now the Beef is closed, the kitchen is quiet, and you can just breathe.

Slowly but surely, everyone files out of the kitchen once they finish their end of the day tasks, bidding you goodbyes and see you tomorrows as they leave—except for Richie, who you flip off once his back is turned.

The bell above the front door chimes, announcing Tina's departure, and then it's just you left tending to your station. Sydney had offered to take care of it for you, seeing as you were down a hand, but cleaning your space at the end of the day gives you peace of mind and time to cool down after all the chaos.

At some point, the lights in the back office click off and heavy foot steps make their way towards the kitchen. Carmen appears beside you, arms crossed as he watches you clean. He's quiet, observing the way you scrub the already pristine table top over and over and over. You don't learn that kind of precision from working in a place like this.

You're an anomaly to him and he doesn't know what to do with you

You certainly don't fit in here with your perfectly refined private school vocabulary and your Michelin star palette and your fucking expensive gold chain necklace that's probably worth more than the rent for his apartment.

"What're you doing here?" he finally asks.

"Wiping my station?" Your voice is leaning on the defensive side and he figures that probably has to do with Richie.

"Exactly," he concedes. "So what are you doing here? Because six months ago you were making fuckin' soufflés in the Hamptons."

This time you actually kind of laugh because that statement is not too far off from the truth. "I don't know, Carmen. I was bored?"

"You don't give up the Hamptons because you're bored."

You look up at him for the first time since he's walked up. There's no bristling anger in your eyes like there was earlier when Richie took your knife—he did and you both know it. You just look at him, really look at him, and then you set down the rag and you nod. "Just like you don't give up Noma?"

Carmen holds your heavy gaze for a while. It's as if some sort of unspoken understanding passes between the two of you and eventually he sighs, nodding. "Right."

You look around at the restaurant surrounding you, the stained floors, the rundown kitchen appliances, the framed 'let it rip' note. "Natalie, uh she told me about him—Micheal... I'm really sorry. He seemed like a good guy."

His eyes follow yours to the note, and he doesn't say anything for a minute, which isn't unusual, Carmen has always been decently shy since you met him, but it makes you wonder if it was a mistake bringing it up.

Strangely enough, this is the first time that someone's brought up Michael and he hasn't wanted to slam a door in their face. Normally, he would just nod and say something like, 'yeah, he was a good guy' and that would be his way of wiggling out of another unwelcome conversation, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at the note and wonders for the first time since Micheal died if he should have gone to the funeral.

It made him feel like a fucking asshole for not going, but he couldn't listen to all those people saying how good it was to have him back—how happy Micheal would have been to have him back—because if Micheal hadn't gone and killed himself, he wouldn't be here anyhow. He'd still be in New York. He'd still be angry at Micheal like he is now.

Carmen sighs. "I—I wish that I had talked to him more instead of just fucking off to New York. Because after that I just hated coming back too all of this... y'know? And then it was like even when I was here, he kinda just knew that I didn't want to be here, and so we spent that time just fuckin'... at each other's throats.." He trails off, sniffing to clear the choked up feeling from his throat. "Just—who the fuck does that?"

He's asking you. Who shoots themself and doesn't even leave a note? Who shoots themself and leaves their little brother to pick up the remains of their shithole restaurant?

"Well," you begin, laughing a little at the absurdity of it all. "You're talking to a girl who decided to quit her job after three years as a private chef and is now slicing spare ribs in Chicago for just over minimum wage."

The unseriousness of the confession makes him crack a smile and now he's fighting a grin off of his face. "Yeah, that was uh..." He's still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was really stupid of you. Why would you do that?"

You're fighting a smile too now, heart pumping in your chest because he's really fucking pretty when he laughs. His cheeks are flushed and his curly hair is a disheveled mess and you just want to reach over and smooth a hand through it.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip and his blue eyes don't miss the nervous habit. "Well, there's this guy..."

"Yeah?" Carmen's smiling, the tired expression on his face softened by the twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, there's this guy. And I've looked up to him my entire life. He's brilliant—like really fucking brilliant. And I promised myself that if I ever got the opportunity to work for him, I would do it."

Carmen snorts softly, glancing down at the white tile floor a bit bashfully before looking back to you again. "And now you know what a freaking psycho I am, huh?"

You can see it, him retreating back into the mellow, unsure person he becomes when he's not manning an overflowing expo station, a broken freezer, and an entire staff of chefs. It's endearing how timid he is, like he almost doesn't really know himself or how he fits in anywhere outside the kitchen. "I don't think you're a psycho, Carm. I mean, I would be a little crazy too if I had what you have on my plate."

He just nods, still a little sheepish at your praise. Just like this morning, when you had caught him at the back door before opening, he doesn't know what to do with himself when you're around.

You break the silence by turning back towards your station. "I'm going to finish up here. I don't mind locking up if you don't want to stay."

Carmen watches as you lean forward onto the toes of your beat up sneakers to grab the paper towels off the overhead shelf and the hem of your hand cropped t-shirt rides up. His first instinct is to look away because the exposed flesh of your rib cage feels like something he shouldn't be seeing, much less staring at, but it's like he freezes out of panic and now he's looking at the tattoo just under your breast.

He stands there, mouth partially open to reply back to you, but it's like his tongue is numb in his mouth and he doesn't even remember what he was going to say anymore. And then it's gone, concealed again by the hem of your white t-shirt.

When you walked into the Beef two weeks ago, your tattoos had been strangely surprising to him at first. He hadn't pictured you like that in his mind—bronzed skin and tatted forearms and cherry glossed lips—just grunge enough to make anyone who passes you look twice. Now you're all he thinks about.

"Carmy. Carmy?"

You're staring at him, head cocked to the side, brows furrowed in confusion and—God, he wants to kiss you.

"Are you oka—"

"Can I kiss you?" He blurts out the question as if he won't be able to finish it if he doesn't get it all out in one breath. Like he knows that if he doesn't ask now he's never going to have the courage to do it again, and he'll be stuck shoving down these feelings for you for the rest of his life.

When you stare at him, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights, he knows he screwed up. His stomach drops and—fuck, he really needs a Tums right now. He looks away, hand reaching to his hair, eyes darting to the ceiling because he can't take the embarrassment of looking at you.

"I—fuck, I'm sorry. That was totally—um. I shouldn't have—"

"Shut up, Carmen."

"No, that was stupid of me. I—"

"Shut up so I can kiss you, you moron."

Stepping forward, your hand curls around the back of his neck, drawing him down to close the gap between the two of you. Even then you have to stand on your toes to reach him. Although the tense, anticipatory stiffness of his body against yours is screaming wait, you press your lips to his before he has the chance to back down.

It's everything that a first kiss should be—hot and sweet and a bit awkwardly reserved. You can tell he’s nervous. Nevertheless, you can't help the hum that escapes you at the feeling of his plush bottom lip pressed between your own. If given the choice, you’d never pull away from the warm taste of his mouth.

Carmen's breathing heavy, heart pounding in his chest, hand pressing into your back, pulling you closer as he kisses you impossibly harder. He's never kissed a girl before and he decides then and there that he never wants to kiss any girl that's not you.

It’s not clear which of you pulls away first—coming up for air more than anything—but it leaves you both nose to nose, mouths still inches from each other, still sharing the same air that you would had your mouths been connected.

“Carmen?” you ask softly, nose brushing his as you speak. You can feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Yeah?” he replies in same breathy tone.

“Did I mention I really like it here?”

#carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear #carmy berzatto imagines

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

TEEN PARENT HEADCANONS WITH BILL

(Hello! Sure I can! Enjoy!) Taglist!

Obviously, teens in love fool around, and apparently so do you and Bill

I don't think he understood the geabity of the situation when you first told him

He was confused at first at how hesitant and scared you seemed

He laughed, saying it was okay to tell him end the more you dragged it on I think this when he started getting nervous and scared

I think he thought you were about to break up with him or something

The best thing to do was just say you were pregnant, which you did

He fell really silent, almost scary silent as he just stared at you

It was knobs turning in his head, and he actually somehow smiled

He didn't really take in the situation and what like

"You're pregnant! We made a baby! Wait…we- we made…a baby…"

It slowly dawned on him the situation

You guys were teens, who now has a baby coming

He more panicked, was pacing back and forth, he wasn't angry at you, but more at himself for putting you in this situation

And he was worried about what the media would say, the band, your families, fans, everyone and everything

It seemed like it was all falling down in front of him and he didn't really know what to do

You finally got him to sit down, and he was able to breath

He slowly got out the words telling you it was okay, and that you could do whatever you wanted

He loves you, he supported your decision, and even if he wanted the kid, he knew it wasn't his entire decision but yours as you were the pregnant one

If you cried, he held you, if you were scared, so was he but he was by your side, which made it better

Through long and hard thinking, you came to the decision to keep the baby

I feel like Bill was relieved, and sorta scared at the same time

He wanted a family with you, he just thought it would be farther in the future, but I guess life doesn't work out like you always want it

Plus, he cheered both you guys up by making jokes, laughing and just being there

I think you guys kept off telling the band, media and anyone for a while

Until you guys were all together, everything was fine, Gustav, Tom and Bill were laughing before they noticed how you two were acting different

Tom was laughing, playfully asking what crawled up your asses before Bill just blurted it out

"(Name)'s pregnant."

Dead silence. You could hear a pin drop as all three of them stared at you, Bill and your stomach

Then questions came like rapid fire

"You're pregnant?! I'm gonna be an uncle?!"

"H-how?! When?! Why?! You let him get you pregnant?!"

"Holy shit…oh damn, you're really pregnant. Oh, oh god-"

Obviously after the shock, they were all still sorta surprised

Obviously because it was Bill and you, but obviously Georg was like

"So, what are you guys gonna do?"

And obviously, you guys told them you were keeping it

They all just nodded, sorta quiet and looking at each other before Tom stood up, walking over to Bill and leaning down to hug him

That caused a little wave of hugs and laughs going around

I think Bill actually needed those hugs as the final push of everything was gonna be okay

What you guys weren't prepared for was the media waves

As your stomach got bigger, obviously it got out

You were hounded with scandals, rumors, paparazzi, questions, angry and happy fans, threats and congratulations

Bill did his best to help keep you safe, keeping you away from the media as everything about the band was kept on hold for about half way through your second trimester

After that, if you were in the band, for a while you weren't

You would stay backstage, with hands and assistants to make sure you were okay as Bill watched you from the corner of his eye, never taking his eye off you or your growing child

Tom, Gustav and Georg were actually excited to be uncles

Having a little kid running around seemed fun and exciting now

Tom would sit by you, and if you were comfortable, put his hand on your stomach and feel his little niece or nephew kick

Sometimes he would sit in front of you and just talk, shit talking everyone and telling your stomach everything he would teach them as they got older, and to love him more than Bill

Gustav was making sure you were okay all the time, getting you stuff you needed so you didn't need to get up and do it yourself, especially as your stomach got better

Georg dubbed himself the best uncle, outdoing everyone and everything, he also served as the one who threw paparazzi off your trails

They all kept you safe, especially when people would crowd you guys or follow you

But Bill was always the best think

Throughout the entire thing he was always by your side, getting anything you needed, supporting you and never missing a thing

Especially the birth, the scariest he has ever fucking seen you

But everything made it worth it as he held your guys' kid for the first time

Admittedly and proudly, he cried, which nobody ever lets go of

He didn't want to let go of them, which stayed true for years

Nothing really changed in the band, just a kid was added to the mix

Your kid has the absolute best uncles, and grew up loved by many

You guys kept them protected from paparazzi and threats, shielding them from what you couldn't shield yourselves from growing up

They're an absolute daddy's girl or boy

Bill is their absolute go to, hiding behind his leg, in his neck or just wanting to be held

Bill was always the one to get up when they cried, saying you did enough through birth and pregnancy and to let him handle it for now

Your baby is the luckiest kid in the world

They went on interviews, answered so many questions with their adorable face and smile, sitting on your lap, or Bills lap or any of their uncles laps

Your kid went to signings, signed their own stuff to fans and always somehow grabbed a mic to say hi to you guys on stage

They even ran out a few times, jumping onto Bills or your leg, wanting to be picked up

Your kid loved you guys so much, and even if you guys were teens and raising a kid, you did a good job

Your kid was well behaved, spoke their mind, and even if they were absolutely spoiled rotten by all of you, they remained so cute and so humble, always kind to everyone

They loved seeing you guys on stage, on videos or backstage and running up to cling to you both

They especially loved seeing Bill when he walked on the runway, clapping and yelling for their dad and laughing, sitting in Tom's lap and going

"that's dad! Dada! Daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah, that's dad!"

Bill and you faced some criticism for having a kid so young, and even for your parenting style or anything concerning your kid

But your kid grew up loved, happy and healthy with every uncle, and you and Bill by their side

So, I think you guys have little to worry about

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

@billsjumbie95 @bigbootahjudy @dead-tapes @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @elenacgn08

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel georg #gustav tokio hotel #gustav schäfer #georg #georg listing

[rusmii]

xoxo...BONDING WITH A MAFIOSO: ms. healer! - n. chuuya

chuuya x healer!reader/self insert (fem.)

[✦🥛]. . . another self-indulgent fic. idk why but I'm in the mood to make more friends... come talk to me if you guys want to (´,,•ω•,,) [pt.2 of xxx...mr. mafia! NOT PROOFREAD]

[syp]. . . when you meet up with chuuya at the coordinates, you're surprised to see that he's alone. what happens next is a moment of weakness and vulnerability between the both of you.

[cws]. . . flirty chu, reader has a weird thought abt chuuya for the entire fic, you guys flirt the whole time idk why, THIS IS FLUFFY GUYS!!!!, flustered chuuya, smoking, teasing chuuya, bickering/banter, nicknames/petnames

You shivered. Doubt began to seep in you, the cold air shriveled atop the thinly layered jacket you wore. You should've brought a thicker jacket. If not, then layer up more to protect yourself from the chilly atmosphere — Secrecy of the Port Mafia began to unshed itself in the depths of moonshine. Thoughtless images of your mangled body bloodied and beaten to the curve under the brash aggression of your recruiter were enough to rack fear into your veins.

You shook those reeked thoughts away. Death by the Japanese mafia is, and will not be on your 2024 bingo.

"What's wrong?" His slightly hoarse voice questions from across you. Shaking your head again, you push the question aside, "It's nothing – just.. cold." Noticing the hesitation in your voice, Chuuya gets up and moves around the room — said place was a dimly lit room, you could barely see anything past the four dark corners that the light didn't gaze upon. It was smaller than a shipping container, much like a small living room space with a kitchen right next to the couches. The bathroom was hidden by old paint, the door knob being the only indicator of its existence.

"Is that so?" Chuuya says from the kitchen area. "Want some hot chocolate? Got plenty stocked for the occasion," he flaps the flimsy packet up and down for you to see. He didn't really need to speak loudly. The silent room being so shrunk gave your guys' ears the benefit of even hearing hushed whispers. "Sure," you shrug your shoulders. Chuuya chuckled, amused by the act of your feigned toughness. "Well then, one hot cocoa coming up for my lovely lady tonight."

You wanted to roll your eyes at his blatant flirting. You knew that he was only doing that to soften up your interior, make it easier to invade through your exterior, slip through the cracks, and unwire all the tangled up complexities that mangled up your person. He wanted to; intended to; desired to break down your so carefully curated towers — but you weren't gonna fall, not with the strong resolution you walked in with today. Especially not when he's expecting you to open the gardens' gates so freely for visitors.

"Relax," Chuuya's voice resonated around the walls. Despite his turned back, it seemed like he could read your face and very thoughts at the moment. " 'M not the type to bite – not that fast, at least." How he could tell you were still wary about him, you didn't know. Guess it was a perfected technique you had to acquire before becoming one of the top dogs in the Port Mafia. "So you still intend on toying with me before you make me one of the PM's bitch?" A snide remark escaped you before you could stop and think about what to say next.

He laughs, "Basically."

Chuuya hums, placing both his drink and yours on a tray, the cups rattling atop the metal. "Jus' kiddin'," he sighs when he sees your face. "Toying with my meals ain't my style – playing with food is Dazai's thing. I'd rather go in for the center of the plate, the best part comes first f'me." His smile never disappeared from his lips. Short and elegant, composed in a way you completely weren't. "So you were lying? And who's Dazai?" One by one. Chuuya's smirks widens as he slowly peels you bit by bit.

"Here ya' go, miss healer," he hands you your drink. "Don't worry 'bout poison, I'm supposed to recruit you not kill you," he reassures your next thought, but ignoring your question. You eye him as he sat down, taking the drink with cusp palms. You didn't know what to believe — there was one hell of a 99.9% chance of him lying to drug and kidnap you — but you wanted to believe in that 0.01% of him attempting to somewhat befriend you.

"Heh - miss healer?"

"What? What's wrong with it?"

You wave him off, "Nothinnn," blowing the top layer of your hot cocoa. "What made you think of miss healer, mister mafia?" A familiar smirk made its way back on his face. "Exactly that, miss healer." Taking a sip of his cup, he crosses a leg around his other one. Had he sat like a lady, you'd tease him, but unfortunately for you, he sat like he was waiting for someone to sit on his lap — the wide open space, his knee pointed to the side rather than upward like how normal cross sitting is, and the arm resting above the couch cushion — god he was tempting.

"Exactly like what sir?" Using his tactics, you were starting to recompose yourself. The same smirk Chuuya uses was the one donning your face at the very moment.

Chuuya doesn't seem to mind it however, the same bland expression showcasing his already high confidence. "An eye for an eye. A nickname - " he flicks his cup, " - for a nickname."

Wanting to reply sarcastically, you bit your tongue – not wanting to anger the calm mafioso.

"Keep blowing your drink, and it's gonna go cold." What Chuuya said made you snap out of your daze, urging you to gulp down a large portion of your drink. Bad idea — "fuck – !" you managed to gurgle out, the hot beverage burning your throat, your tongue feels like it burned off all it's nerves. When you heard Chuuya laugh, you had just about lost your temper with him. "You ?! – you tricked me?!" His chest rumbles, "Hey now! You drinking that shit wasn't my fault! All I did was try to warn you!"

An accusing finger points at you, "Tut, tut – miss healer can't handle hot drinks!"

"Wah – Yes I can!" You shout back, "It's just too hot! That's why I was blowing it for so long!!" You point a finger back at him. "If you hadn't said anything I wouldn't have drunk it so fast!! Besides! It's hot chocolate, you're supposed to wait for it to cool down if you want to drink it comfortably!"

"Oh really? Cause all I hear are – wait, what's that word..? Excuses!"

"Urgh! You have no point in trying to make fun of me! You barely even took a sip of yours!"

Stopping himself from arguing back, Chuuya takes a look at his brimmed filled cup and exhaled a deep breath of air before pushing the cup to his lips. What came next was a shock to you; of pure utter stupidity. Chuuya chugs down his beverage, some of it leaking down the side of his mouth. His adams apple bobbed with every quick gulp he took — "Dunno' whatcha talkin' 'bout," he swallowed the remaining liquid in his mouth and showed you his now empty cup.

"You..." Feeling speechless. Horribly confused. And just overall weirded out by this weird action, you placed your cup back down on the coffee table. "Actually never mind, I don't know what to say to that," you gave in, the perpetual defeat that Chuuya had paved out was inevitable.

"Don't weep now. We still have business to talk about." Quick and cut to the chase, the mood sours just as the lights dim impossibly so.

Keeping to yourself, you wait. The cigarette that the mafioso had pulled out to light was starting to burn; smell invading your senses. Covering your scrunched nose with your hand, you start fanning the contaminated fumes away from your air space. "Don't like the smell of cigs?" Chuuya puffs out, a fog of white smoke evaporating towards you. "Is it not obvious?" You cough, a glare wrenching it's away out.

"Oh," was all he said before putting out the cigarette and throwing it aside. "That better?" He asks again, wanting to ease you back into the mood before he makes any more advances. "Better," you confirm, still swatting fumes away from your face. Pulling out a lollipop from your bag, you handed it over to Chuuya. "Here, take this." Chuuya takes the candy before unwrapping it. "What flavor?"

"Dum dums show the flavor dumdum – look at the wrapper." He clicks his tongue in annoyance by your relentless back talk, but he didn't let it bother him for the most part. "Blue berry raspberry?"

"Yeah. Thought you'd like it."

"Hm? Why?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Blue, like your eyes." Chuuya had to pause for a moment when you said that. His eyes slightly widening — his slightly pale complexion now brushed over with a light pinkish red — his composure faltering for just a split second, not even giving you time to witness what you had just done to him.

"Oh – uh, thanks. I guess..." Quickly revaluating himself, the slight loop in his expression fixed itself — making you miss your chance at teasing. "No problem!" Humming for his pleasure, you did take great delight in feeling appreciated. "Yeah, um," he fakes a cough to get you guys' back on track, "Tis' good. Thanks for the lolli." You can see the roll of the candy inside his mouth, his tongue moving around to savor the oncoming flavor. You hum again, a happy look washed over your face.

Chuuya sighs. You two were getting sidetracked — but for some reason, when he glances at your innocent, happy, so, so genuine expression, much unlike his, he feels the need to drag this meeting out for a bit longer. A little bit longer to talk with you as a civil person before he has to force an ultimatum.

belongs to @churuai DONT STEAL >:(((

taglist (free to join!): @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani

teeheeteeheetehheee hope u guys enjoyed! comments and reblogs appreciated <3<3

#[˚₊‧꒰ა🩰] — runi #FINALLY DONE WITH THIS... #might make a mr. mafia pt3 muahahaha #chuuya x reader #chuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #bsd x reader

[genderlessghoul]

I'm sick so this is purely self indulgent

(Please be nice, I don't usually write but I have a lot of ghoul thoughts)

Summary : Phantom gets sick for the first time, Dewdrop decides to take care of him. Nothing more than Ant being an oblivious dumbass and Dew turning into his mom.

Since his first day Top Side, Phantom was always one of the first ghouls awake. He'd already be sitting down at the kitchen table eating his toast when the others would start to slowly appear one by one for eggs or coffee or whatever they needed to start the day.

That morning, Phantom was not up before everyone. In fact he did not even show up at all for breakfast. The unusual change in behavior had one particular fire ghoul worried enough to pay him a visit after his meal.

Dew finds himself in front of the young ghoul's closed door, no light coming from under it and no noise coming from the other side. Maybe Phantom's still asleep. But he's never still asleep at this time.

The fire ghoul knocks after a few seconds of consideration. A small, almost inaudible whimper answers him. He turns the door knob and walks into the room.

The curtains are still closed. There's a faint halo of light emanating from the edges, just enough to cast a dim light on the bed. There lies a truly ridiculous pile of blankets, the only sign of the quintessence ghoul burried within being the gentle rise and fall of said pile. The room, which usually carries Phantom's scent of sunlight and chamomile, smells of something sour.

"Hey..." Dew starts, not quite sure how to handle the situation. He walks closer to the bed as he speaks "What's going on, what's wrong?"

"I don't know" the younger ghoul's voice is shaky and coarse "I just woke up like this. My head feels dizzy, I'm so cold and my nose" he sniffs loudly "it just won't stop leaking."

Now sitting on the edge of the bed, Dew is able to push away enough of the blankets to be able to see Phantom's face and make up the outline of his body. He's curled up on himself, completely shivering.

"Oh shit, I think you might have caught a cold for the first time. I told you to dress up warmer yesterday, it's getting chilly outside."

"How can I catch a temperature?" the tone of absolute confusion in his voice makes the fire ghoul chuckle against his better judgment.

"No baby, it's just a way of saying you got sick. One of the joys of living amongst humans, you can get diseases like them too. It's just a little virus, it'll pass."

"What's a virus?"

Dew's not sure how to answer that question. He's never been one to get into the sciences of it all. He's never been sick himself, one of the pros of being part fire ghoul is that his body runs too hot for most uninvited guests of the sort to thrive.

"I don't... Really know, I've never been sick... I guess it's a thing that lives inside you and tries to like... Kill you?"

"What???" Phantom gives out a truly pathetic squeak and another loud sniff "Am I gonna die? Is that why my nose is leaking, are my insides slowly liquifying?"

"Naaah, takes a whole lot more than a cold to kill a ghoul. But it's gonna royally suck to be alive for a couple days."

"Please just kill me already" the request is accompanied by a series of sad groans as the sick ghoul turns around to bury his head in his pillow.

"Oh don't be so dramatic" Dew gets up the bed and heads towards the door "Stay there, I'll be back."

He hears more groans as he heads into the halway towards the kitchen.

Phantom doesn't move after Dewdrop leaves. His head is in too much of a fuzz, it feels like it's about to explode. He feels truly pathetic and quite frankly gross, laying there with his snot slowly soaking into the pillowcase. When the fire ghoul emerges back in the doorframe, he's carrying a tray with a bowl, a cup, a box and a small container.

"Whas all that?" the quintessence ghoul inquires.

"Sit up" the older ghoul orders. Phantom obeys without arguing but not without a few pathetic whimpers. How dare he be asked to move when he's on the brink of death?

Dew walks back towards the bed and sets the tray on the nightstand before sitting next to his protégé. "That's chicken noodle soup in the bowl. It's the fake kind that come in an envelope but I swear it's just as good. I think the yellow powder's slightly radioactive, it might help kill the virus."

Phantom's eyes go wide and he doesn't have a choice but to explain to him that it's not, in fact, radioactive. The new ghoul is so gullible sometimes. It's adorable.

"The cup's mint tea. Real kind tho, Mountain would probably skin any of us for make tea the wrong way. But you know that. Box is just tissues, it's for your runny nose."

"I thought you said you never got sick?"

"I don't... Why?"

"Well there's a box of it by your bed. Is it in case Rain gets sick?"

"Yup that's it, it's for Rain, enough questions. And that small thing" he grabs the container from the tray and unscrews the lid, putting it directly below the other's nose. The smell is strong, Phantom throws his head back in surprise. "It's to help you breathe better"

Dew dips his fingers into the mixture and rubs it lightly on between the sick ghoul's collar bones. "Thank you"

"You're welcome. Now move over, I need space in there too."

"Hm?"

"Speaking from everyone else's experience, the best way to get over a cold is to cuddle up next to somethin' extra toasty" the quintessence moves enough to allow the older one to settle right next to him. He takes the bowl of soup from the side of the bed and places it carefully in Phantom's lap. "Eat it while it's still warm. Then we can spend all day napping and watching stupid movies, sounds nice?"

"Yeah... Sounds real nice" there the hint of a purr starting up in his chest. Maybe it's not all that bad if he gets the fire ghoul all to himself for an entire day.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghost #ghost ficlet #dewdrop ghoul #phantom ghost #meerkat writes

[kaz11283]

Bucky Request (1)

It's More Than Just Friends

This is a cute little request from @itsplumwriter, I messed up on this first one but I feel like it wasn't going in the way that I was wanting it to any way so let's start over. I am sorry my dear for taking so long on this but in the end I truly hope you enjoy.

You walk into something after a mission you know you wasn't supposed to so you turn to the only person who truly understands you.

Bucky X Y/N (female)

Maybe some bad words other than that no warning.

"Come on Buck, I know you're in there!" You banged on the door as loud as you dared, any louder and you would probably wake the neighbors which at this hour wouldn't be very good. "James Buchanan Barnes, if you do not open this door I'm gonna kick it in." With no answer you slide down the door and propped your head against it.

"Ya know, for someone who just spent three months away from your boyfriend and instead with me you would think that you would be there instead of here." Bucky said leaning against the railing of the stairs coming up to his landing. He was carrying Chinese food in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.

"Yeah, well, kinda hard to spend time with a guy who's balls deep in another girl, in your bed." You sighed standing up so that he could unlock his door. "I even think about you not being here. If I had known I wouldn't have been yelling like I was." He cocked his eyebrow up at you. "There is a small possibility that you may have a few complaints in the morning." You shrugged walking by him into his place.

He stood at the door as you walked in and plopped down on his couch. "Can we rewind back to the beginning of that sentence? He was what with who?"

"Balls deep, another girl. If I had to guess he probably met her at a bar, took her home, and didn't expect me to come barging in while they were, well, ya know.". You leaned over to take off your boots. That's when it hit Bucky that you still had on your gear, not changing when getting back to the compound because you had been so ready to get home.

"That doesn't surprise me." He asked walking into his room to grab you something to sleep in. This wasn't the first time you had stayed the night at his apartment because of the ass of a boyfriend. "I don't understand what you see in that guy. It feels like he's just using you Y/n."

"I get it though, I get that he probably gets lonely every time I have a mission and I'm gone weeks of not months sometimes. I'm lucky he gave me a chance-"

"That asshole is lucky you gave him a chance. If you were the one I was coming home to there's not a chance in hell I would chea-" he stopped mid sentence with his eyes wide looking at you. Your mouth dropped at the confession.

"You don't mean that Bucky, I have a lot of baggage that comes with this. You're just saying heat of the moment stuff now." You got up from the couch and walked to the door.

"Where are you going? Not back to him." Bucky almost whined.

"I think I'm just gonna stay at Nats for the night, let everything settle, clear my head." You were reaching for the door knob when Buckys hand caught your wrist turning you around.

"Don't go, stay here, with me. As long as you want. Y/n I love you, I love you so damn much but I will wait as long as you want me to." You looked up at his pleading eyes tears springing to yours. You loved Bucky more than anyone else, he opened up around you and you him. Everything you went through you went through together, he wasn't just your partner he was your best friend. "As for the baggage, we've spent more time together than we have with anyone else, I know every little article of baggage that you carry."

"Kiss me." You whispered looking into his eyes. "Kiss me right-" his lips met yours and you felt fireworks. It was needy, slow, and wanting all in one. You didn't want it to end, his lips the softest you had ever felt. Kissing him was the lifeline that you needed, every pent up emotion you had shoved to the back of your mind because you shouldn't feel that way about someone who you're supposed to work with. "I love you James Barnes. Always have." You pulled away placing both hands on his cheeks.

"Stay with me, for now till we find you an apartment here, stay with me forever, the choice is yours." He leaned in placing a kiss on your forehead.

You spent the remainder of the night curled up with him in his bed finally getting some much needed sleep. When the sun peeked through his binds causing you to stir you heard a heated argument in the living room.

"I know she's here, Barnes. Tell her I need to talk to her." You heard your ex yell.

"I didn't tell you she wasn't here, I told you that she didn't want to talk to you. I know what happened last night, you are pitiful. Going out and hooking up with some random girl. After everything she's done for you?" Bucky yelled back.

"Everything she's done for me? Like hoping on the avengers jet every chance she had with you? Going God knows where, doing God knows what? If I had to guess it probably wasn't a mission every time, probably going off just to screw you behind my back." You stormed into the room at that point heading straight for him. "She's here right now, wearing your clothes, coming out of your room. Did you have a nice little escapade last night?" There was a sound of skin hitting skin and your ex falling flat on his back with you standing over him.

"Get out Y/ex/n, I'm coming to get my stuff later and you had better not be there. You have no right coming in here, accusing us of sleeping together when you've been doing it for God only knows how long." Bucky came over and placed a hand on your shoulder trying to get you to come with him. When you finally did move he took your hand in his to examine your knuckles to see how bad they were.

"You good, doll?" He asked bringing them up to his lips to kiss them.

"Yeah," you smiled and turned back to your ex who was now holding his cheek where you had hit him. "I want you out of my apartment, and I don't want you to be at yours when I pick up my stuff." You glared at him as he nodded before walking out the door.

"Your apartment? So are we gonna be roommates now?" He laughed.

"If that's still ok with you. Besides you have a decent size guest room that I can make my own.". You laughed at his wide eyes.

"Oh, darling, if you think you're sleeping anywhere else besides my bed you're deathly wrong." He said cornering you against the back of the couch to kiss you again.

~~~~

How did we like it? I hope it was all good seeing as it was the first one I had written in.... Well.... A while. I loved every minute of it though. Thank you again @itsplumwriter for the request. I truly hope you enjoyed it.

If you have any requests, asks, prompts, anything send them my way. It may take a little bit for me to write them but I will work on them!

#bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #avengers bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #Bucky #Bucky Masterlist

[asherloki]

Until I found you

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 815

Fluff

"oh how wonderful indeed" I exclaimed as I touched each string of violin in order with my index finger, making it buzz. Sherlock was still stuck with his microscope, examining the specimen he's been given by Hopkins recently. This officer, Stella Hopkins, she's a huge fan of Sherlock and to our surprise Sherlock doesn't mind her, he says "this young officer has potential". I took his violin as no response came from the man with the microscope. Imitating how Sherlock holds his violin I took the bow in other hand. When I let it touch the strings, it made an awful sound. That's when I turned and found out the detective lifted his head from it.

"You didn't hold any chord did you?" he enquired getting up from his chair, leaving the kitchen table as it is, messy.

"I don't play violin detective, so I don't know the chords" I replied putting the violin down. As I turned back again I saw my man was walking towards me or was he walking towards the violin?

"perhaps you'd be interested in learning it?" he offered as he stood infront of me.

"how many times have I offered you to learn a bit of piano from me Mr Holmes?" I teased him and I was delighted at how he pouted at my teasing. Whenever we visit my mum's I always play my old piano, perhaps I've asked him to play it a thousand times and he didn't agree to do so for once. Even though I caught him once or twice admiring it, as he pressed a few keys with his index finger.

"I'm not a pianist, sorry Mrs Holmes" him referring me as Mrs Holmes has never failed to make me giggle, "guitar, Ukulele, all the instruments you own" he said walking past me and grabbing his violin, "I'm fascinated by you" he praised holding his violin over his shoulder, then spinning the knobs as he tuned it.

"you were?" I enquired, sitting on the arm of his chair as he faced the window.

"wrong" he replied taking the bow in hand, "I still am, very much fascinated".

I smiled, did he smile too? who knows. Even after being his wife I can't always tell what's going on in his head, the mystery that he is, the man that he is.

"I always wanted to learn violin next" I said for I've always been drawn to how wonderful this musical instrument sounds.

"why didn't you?" Sherlock asked staring at his dearest violin.

"here you are" I replied, the only musical instrument I knew not how to play, my husband does, and he does it wonderfully, "you can, maybe one day I'll have enough courage to ask you to teach me too".

He gave me a hum in response, as if he wondered 'when will you be genuinely willing?'

"what will you play Sherlock?" I enquired, wanting to know if he has prepared anything, he loves to compose sometimes, he did one for me, the day we were married, three years ago, twenty second November, he made a rather happy melody for me. It was so joyous that everyone asked about it, like what is the inspiration behind it. He replied "my sunshine", he named it so as well. For he says he's never truly been happy, until I came one day, while he was playing with Rosie, John's daughter. He says he felt as if the sunrise for which he waited for a long time, rose that day.

"something my wife would love" he replied turning a bit to me, his smile indicated he will play my favourite song. A song that sounds beautiful when he plays it for me. And then his bow touched the strings, and the buzz was perfect, for the man held the right chords, unlike me. With Swift movements of his fingers, as if they were dancing on the chords and the bow sliding over the strings he started the part that goes,

heaven, when I held you again....

I smiled widely as my guess was correct, the song he says is ours, for he never fell in love, true love, in his entire life until he found me. Seriously though, the cold, grumpy detective, melted for someone like me, immature they say, childish too, young, alot younger than him, but then, I love him, so does he.

"would you mind humming with me?" he asked turning to me, with a nod I agreed and started singing,

"I would never fall in love again until I found her" he hummed as I sung then the next line, he joined me,

"I said I will never fall unless it's you.."

"I'm falling to" I continued,

"I was lost within the darkness" we sung together, looking at eachother, for we dedicated these lines to one another, "but then I found her... I found you..."

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you #i am sherlocked #sherlock fandom #Spotify

[jcbbby]

hey!! could you do a enemies to lovers where jace teases the reader for actually loving him and not hating him like she says she does then she gets flustered and jace also teases her about that too and it ends with him eating her out?? sorry if it’s too specific!!

hello hello! so like I said, writing for Jace is a lil out of my comfort zone, just because I don't know too much about the mortal instruments and that sort of universe in general. but I've given it my best shot for you! and the specifics help a lot, thank you! I hope this is alright. <3

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, SCRAM KIDS or I'll turn the hose on you. enemies to lovers. oral sex (f receiving). a few swears.

note: okay well...I guess I do smut on the reg now, sorry mom and jesus.

-

Life at The Institute was not exactly where you thought you would be growing up. You had only recently learned the truth about your early life and birth parents. They were both shadow hunters, and they had placed you for adoption, in fear for your safety; wanting to keep you away from the evils and darkness that swelled around them. Eventually, your intuitive and gifted mind sorted out the truth, uncovering the very world they tried to keep you from.

You tracked down The Institute, meeting Alec, Isabelle, and Jace, upon arrival. Letting them know that you hoped to find your fellow shadow hunter parents, they invited you in, offering their help and hospitality. Alec and Isabelle were lovely and the three of you hit it off rather quickly. However, Jace was not as warm to you.

In fact, he had a chip on his shoulder that made it awfully hard for you to enjoy his company. A smugness and sarcastic nature that never failed to instantly annoy you when he walked into a room. He seemed to always know how to push your buttons; making snarky comments, being short with you, getting you frustrated and worked up before smirking to himself, having the victory of getting to you. It was like a game to him.

You sat in your room this morning, reading your current choice of literature, sipping a mug of tea before you started your day. A knock came upon your door, startling you momentarily. You gently closed the book, marking your spot, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. As you grabbed your robe from your bedpost, another knock came from the door.

“Just a minute!” You called, cursing under your breath at whoever couldn’t wait more than 20 seconds for you to open the door.

Once you had made yourself decent, you went over and turned the knob, swinging the door open. On the other side, you were annoyingly met with Jace. His shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open, revealing his many rune markings across his toned torso. He was significantly taller than you, so your eyeline was at his chest.

“My eyes are up here, love.” He smirked. “I know it’s hard to take your eyes off though.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door frame, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Jace?”

He held up a notebook, your journal. “I believe this is yours.”

Your eyes widened as you snatched it from him. “Where did you find this?!”

“It was on a windowsill in the library, you must have left it there. You’ve got some interesting ideas, by the way.” He winked.

You instantly saw red, realizing he had read these private thoughts of yours. “You read my journal?!”

“Well, I had to see who it belonged to, didn’t I? You really shouldn’t be leaving your belongings around if they’re so valuable to you.” He still held his smirk.

“I didn’t mean to leave it anywhere…When did you even find this? You’re not usually up this early.” You tucked the journal under your arm.

“Couldn’t sleep…I was just really invested in what I was reading. Especially page 23.” He leaned against the doorframe to match your position, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You son of a…” You quickly whipped open the notebook to the page he had mentioned. Scanning your writing, you came across a short passage you had written about Jace.

I almost fell flat on my face in the hallway, but Jace actually caught me. He asked if I was alright, even. I’m not sure what kind of good mood he was in, I would have expected him to let me knock my own teeth out. It was a surprisingly nice moment. But god, I really can’t stand him sometimes. He’s rude, cold, full of himself, just insufferable… It’s such a shame he really is rather attractive. If he had any redeeming qualities, I’d maybe even say I would be into him. I would have enjoyed having his hands on me. I really wish I could like him. Truthfully, I want to like him. I think I do care about him somewhere deep down. But he just has to be a total asshole all the time.

You looked up to Jace, who was grinning wickedly. You slammed the book shut, tucking it back under your arm.

“I bet you’re just so pleased with yourself.” You hissed, scrunching your face into a scowl.

“I’m always pleased with myself. But I’m more interested in the fact that it seems you are actually rather pleased with me.”

You scoffed. “Oh my god…you’re delusional.”

“I think you’re the one being delusional. You wrote it yourself. You really don’t think I’m all that terrible, do you?” He leaned forward slightly.

“I do. I do think you’re terrible.” You said in a stern tone.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you do…I think you really do like me.”

“Oh my god…” You rolled your eyes. “I do not! You’re infuriating.”

Jace chuckled. “And I’ve noticed how you look at me, too, when you think I don’t notice.”

“I-I don’t look at you in any way… I don’t-” You raised your voice at him, and he chuckled again. “See you’re just trying to mess with me right now, like always. Jace, it’s 7am. It’s too early for this shit.”

You went to close your door, but he held his hand out.

“You wouldn’t get so worked up if you didn’t care about me, would you?” He cocked his head.

You huffed, lost for words about how to convince him that you didn’t have feelings for him. Maybe a few times you thought he looked nice, or maybe you had a strange dream about the two of you together…but you didn’t have feelings for him. No, absolutely not.

Jace stepped through the threshold of your room, closing the door behind him. You found yourself swallowing hard as all you could do was watch him. He stepped closer to you.

“Jace…” You started to say. “I…I don’t…” Your gaze fell again to his chest.

“Oh, but you do, don’t you?” He said, just barely above a whisper, stepping closer again.

Your mouth fell open slightly, to say something, anything. All you could do was shake your head no, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. He slowly brought his hand up to your cheek, cupping it lightly. You brought your eyes up to him; his were dark, staring deep into yours. He was intoxicating, you felt an ache between your thighs, finally realizing the walls you had been putting up were falling away. You needed him. He tilted his head as he gently caressed your cheekbone with his thumb. Only centimeters separated you now.

“Jace-“ You started to say, but were soon cut off by his lips pressed into yours, which you didn’t fight.

In fact, you pressed your own lips hard into his. His hand fell from your cheek, snaking around your waist, resting on the small of your back. Your hands came up, journal dropping with a thud to the floor from under your arm, pressing against his bare chest as he pulled you into him. He pushed you slowly backward towards your bed; your whole body and mind were buzzing, you barely even noticed until you felt the back of your legs hit the mattress and Jace gently lowered you down on to your back.

His lips traveled from your lips down to your neck, nipping and licking, as he ran his hands over your torso. Your breath was heavy as you reveled in his touch.

“Let me show you that I can play nice too.” He whispered against your neck.

He sat up on his knees on either side of your hips. His hands reached for the tie on your robe, pulling it teasingly slow, smirking down at you. He pushed away the satin fabric from your top half, revealing your torso, covered only by a sheer bralette that you had slept in. He dipped down again, delivering kisses to your collar bone, making his way more center, to just under your throat, then down between the valley of your breasts, and down to your stomach. As he traveled lower, he parted your robe further, displaying your light pink panties; a patch of arousal already soaking through the fabric. His eyes looked up to you hungrily, noticing how badly you ached for him.

“All for me?” He winked.

He placed a soft kiss on your thigh as he pinched the fabric on the waist band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and letting them fall to the floor. Lowering himself between your legs, he held eye contact with you as his lips made contact with your pussy, teasing you with a soft kiss. You whimpered, bucking your hips ever so slightly, eager for more, you needed more. He chuckled to himself.

“Don’t get greedy.” He smirked.

“Jace…please…” You whined.

“Well, since you asked nicely…”

He maintained his eye contact as he brought his mouth to your clit. His soft tongue generously started working on you and your breath hitched, screwing your eyes shut. You felt him smile against you, seeing you squirm in pleasure under his touch. His tongue lapped at your clit in perfect rhythm, circling it euphorically, sucking every now and then for added sensation. You rocked your hips into him, quiet moans escaping your throat that were music to his ears. He teased a finger at your entrance, driving you wild for just a moment, before plunging inside, curling upward.

“Mmm, oh god…” You breathed. “Please don’t stop.” Your hands found their way down to his blonde locks, entangling your fingers in them.

He slipped a second digit in, curling that one along with the other. You gasped, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your mind went fuzzy, only managing to whimper and let out strings of curses and his name. He loved hearing his name on your lips like that. You felt the coil in your stomach tightening, arching your back, as your legs started to shake.

“Jaaace…fuck…I-I’m…gonna…ohmygod.” You moaned, tightening your grip on his hair.

“That’s it, baby. Go on, let it go.” He said against you, placing his free hand on your lower belly, increasing the pressure.

It was all the extra pressure you needed for the coil to snap. You shook and bucked your hips as he kept his tongue and fingers working, riding out your orgasm with you, leaving no ounce of pleasure for you ignored. He kept going until your moans turned into gasps of overstimulation. It was so much, but you didn’t want to tell him to stop. He slipped his fingers out of you as you came down from your high. He then placed one last gentle kiss on to your swollen, sensitive bud, kissing his way back up to meet your lips, tasting yourself on him. Your excitement coating his lips and chin, glistening in the early morning light that came through the window.

“So, it seems like you do like me after all…quite a lot, actually.” He grinned.

You let out a soft burst of air through your nose as a smile grew across your face. You hand rose to tousle his hair, bringing his lips back to yours.

“Maybe you’re right…” You smiled.

#jace wayland x reader #jace herondale x reader #jace wayland smut #jace herondale smut #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower fanfic #jamie bower fanfic #jace wayland fic #jace herondale fic

[sinfully-yoursss]

how do I tell you?

a/n - based on the songs how do I tell you? and what are we? by lizzy mcalpine. it's angsty-ish? idk

It was a love that burned bright and fast. Everything felt right. At least for her it did. When he had answered the door, she could see this look in his eyes that told her it was the end. She knew that the traveling was hard on their new relationship. She just wished there was something she could do to prove to him that this was worth it. Prove to him that she was worth the heartache and pain that came with moving on too fast. 

“Given the circumstances, I guess I can’t ask you to stay?” Tears pooled in her eyes as she stared at who she was certain was the love of her life.

She solemnly looked over to Lando who was sat on the other end of the couch, his gaze only on the floor. 

“I would get it if you decided to walk away.” As she looked down, the tears began to fall. “All my life, I’ve been looking for this. It just seems fitting that as soon as things fall into place, it all goes to hell.” 

She wasn’t trying to hurt him, just make him understand. 

“I don’t think we’re wasting time, but if you do, I’m sorry.” She stood from the couch, kneeling down in front of Lando. “I can see a life with you, but if you can’t, I’m sorry. If four months mean nothing, and if none of it counts for something then I’m sorry. If spending every night in your bed has no meaning, then what are we? It’s all just a sorry excuse for love.”

She stood from him, making her way to the door. As she neared, she spared one last look at the man destroying her world.

“Lately, the world has felt like it’s ending, so I don’t ask for too much. I’ve found that I’m pretending to be okay with too much. All my life, I’ve been looking for this. It’s really funny that things go to hell, now that I’ve found it.”

Lando looked up at her, tears streaming down his face. 

“I don’t think we’re wasting time, but if you do, I’m sorry. I can see a life with you, but if you can’t, I’m sorry. If four months mean nothing, and if none of it counts for something then I’m sorry. If spending every night in your bed has no meaning, then what are we? It’s all just a sorry excuse for love.”

Just as she put her hand on the door knob, Lando finally spoke.

“I’m a little scared of being someone that you’re scared to love.” She turned suddenly, surprised at the words. “But, you don’t talk the way she did and you don’t say the things she said. I’m not who I was back then. I’ve been scared to speak ‘cause I can’t find the words to say. You don’t play the games she did, and you don’t make me feel like shit. My mom even likes you more than her, but still.”

She moved away from the door, walking back towards the couch. 

“How do I tell you that I've come to like the pain? How do I tell you that I don't know what it means to be happy with somebody. I don't know anything about that. How do I tell you that I got it from her?”

Lando stood, walking towards her. “I'm a little prone to feel a little overwhelmed with it all, because you are someone I want to know, and I hope that you don't let me fall. You make sure I get home safe, and you always know what to say, and I feel like I've found my place, but still.”

“You know I never want this to end. You are my person, my safe place.”

Lando leaned forward, kissing her with everything he had. Once he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I don’t think we’re wasting time because I can see a life with you. These last four months have meant everything to me. Waking up to you every morning is something I could do for the rest of my life. You count for everything because you are my everything. None of this has been a sorry excuse because I love you.” 

They stood in a gentle quietness for what felt like hours, holding each other, too afraid to let the other go. Every so often, one would place a kiss on the other showing a sign of love and understanding. 

Not wanting to break the silence, she whispered. “I’m sorry she left you feeling so broken.”

“I’m sorry you felt like the world was ending. I can’t promise it will be soon, but you are it for me. You are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. The person I want to heal with.”

“I’d like that.” She tearfully smiled at him, knowing they would be okay.

#lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #mclaren #mclaren f1

[c-m-stuff]

Teaching

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are together. When he failed his qualification again, you tried to teach him.

-Warnings: Fluffiness, 1x6 spoilers

-Word count: 1361

-Note: (Repost from Wattpad!) Hey y'all, I want to all thank you so much for the love I've received! Means a lot. Thank you!

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

I placed myself on the chair by my desk, sipping my coffee. Emily walked in, looking a bit sad.

'Spencer failed his qualification.' she told us, as the same sad expression appeared on my face. We all knew, Spencer had a bit trouble, working with a gun. I felt really bad for him, he didn't pass.

'Well, he can re-test in two weeks.' David spoke, matter of fact.

'Yeah, but he's going to be embarrassed about it, so let's not mention it.' Emily continued, as we all nodded.

'Not a word.' Derek replied.

On that moment, my boyfriend walked irritated in, crashing on his chair. The first thing Derek did, was getting up, making his way towards the genius.

'Hey, we're all here for you.' Spencer gave him a look.

'I'm serious. If you ever need anything... Just blow on that.' the muscular man did the rope with a whistle around his neck, chuckling at the sight. Spencer quickly took it off, walking angrily away.

'Derek was that now necessary?' I lightly hit him on his chest.

'(Y/L/N), can I talk to you for a moment?' Aaron joined the conversation, while I nodded, and followed him towards his office.

I took a seat, waiting for him to begin.

'I guess, you already heard about Reid's failed qualification?' he asked, as I agreed with him.

'Well, as you know, profilers are not required to carry a gun. But, I know, he really wants it. I've tried to teach him, and I would do it again, but I can't. Jack's teacher just called, he got sick on school, and I need to pick him up and take care of him. Since, we have no case today, it would be the perfect opportunity to practice again. If you don't mind, would you want to try teach him?'

'Yeah, of course!'

'But, can I ask, why you chose me?' I genuinely wondered.

'Because, you're really good with a gun. And, I know, you're patient, and close with Reid.' a smile crept on my lips, happy from the compliment.

'Thank you, Hotch. I will start right away.' I stood up, and placed my hand on the door knob, before turning around.

'And, I hope Jack gets better soon.' my earlier smile mirrored on his face, as I now walked out the office.

I couldn't see Spencer anywhere, considering he's still pissed. I decided to go to the break room, guessing he was there. Apparently, my guess was right, as I saw the tall man pouring himself some coffee. I walked closer to him, and placed my hand on his shoulder.

'Hey, you're okay?'

'I'm fine.' he simply answered, but we both knew, it was a lie.

'Spence, I'm sorry about you qualification.'

'It's okay, don't worry about it.' he said, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

'What about, I help you with it?' I tried so sound more enthusiastic, hoping to brighten up the mood a little.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, I just spoke to Hotch, and he asked me to teach you, if you want. He can't do it himself, since Jack it sick.'

'You really want that?' he asked, with a bit insecurity in his voice.

'Of course, I want to! Come, let's go.' soon enough, we were in the exercise room, the target already in sight.

'Alright, safety first.' I handed him the hearing protector and safety glasses.

'Now, we're going to load the gun.' we both filled our guns with bullets.

'Hotch always learned me the three steps. One: front sight, you need to focus on the front sight. Not on the target.' in the meanwhile, Spencer stood for the target, gun in front of him, ready to shoot.

'Two: controlled trigger press.' I contiuned.

'Three: You need to follow through. After the shot you come right back to the target. Try.' he did what I said, shooting on the target.

Sadly enough, he shot wide of the target, not hitting the drawn black person, he needed to hit. He sighed, lowering the gun.

'Don't worry, love. Now, what did you do wrong?'

'I didn't follow through.' he answered, knowing his fault.

'Right. You came off the target to see where you hit.'

'(Y/N), I barely passed my first qualification, now I failed my second one.' he stated, irritated.

'You're going to be fine, sweetheart. I'm going to help you till you can do it perfectly. Now watch.' he made room for me, as I took place. I holded my gun in perfect position, placing my finger on the trigger.

'Front sight, triggers press, follow through.' my finger pressed the trigger, hitting the target almost perfectly in the middle. It was only a few inches away for the perfect shot.

I lowered my gun, and turned around.

'I'm not so good as Hotch, but-'

'Not so good? (Y/N), that was perfect!' Spencer looked with disbelief and proud eyes in mine. I smiled from his confession.

'Alright, try again.'

He placed himself again for the target, aiming with his gun, and shooting. It was better than the last time, the bullet hitting now almost a part of the drawn black person, but it still wasn't on it.

'They're going to take away my gun.' he stated, insecure.

'No, they're not. Let me help you.'

I gave a good look at Spencer his position. His legs weren't at the right spot, and his gun needed a bit more to the left. I improved the mistakes, while talking:

'When I joined the BAU as last one, Hotch told me something, Gideon told him: "You don't have to carry a gun to kill someone.".'

'Look at me, without a gun on my belt, I look like a teacher's assistant.' he joked, making me laugh.

'You look fabulous, gorgeous. With or without a gun. Now, why don't you try to shoot again?'

He gave me a soft smile, and nodded. While staying in position, the bullet shot through the target. However, this time it was in the drawn black person, just in the middle. He did exactly the three steps, making the perfect shot.

'YOU DID IT, SPENCE!' I yelled, excitedly, as he placed his gun aside, and wrapped me into a tight hug.

'I can't believe, I did it!' the most happiest smile was painted on his soft lips.

'I am so proud of you!' we gently ended the sweet hug, admiring one another.

'Thank you, (Y/N). So much. I couldn't do it without your help.' I smiled, giving him a loving kiss.

'I'm glad, I could help. Now, you need to practice a bit more, but you'll be fine.'

He nodded in agreement, and we went back to practicing. Not every shot was as perfect as that one, but it got better and better. I'm sure, when the test comes, he's ready.

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2 weeks later:

It was a normal morning for the BAU. Everyone by their desks, chatting with each other. Suddenly, Spencer came running by, happiness visibly in his expression.

'I did it! I passed my qualification!' I immediately crashed in his arms, hugging him proudly.

'Congratulations! I knew, you could do it!'

'All thanks to you, love.' we slowly ended the comforting hug, looking in each others gorgeous eyes.

Everyone congratulated him, I could see they all were proud and happy for him. As Spencer and I, lost eye contact, he turned around to gave a look at Derek. He trew the rope with whistle towards him, a grin on his face.

He then, walked away, leaving Derek behind with a shocked expression. It was quickly replaced by a big laugh, looking proudly at the object.

'Touché kid.'

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