#i wanted to have fluff but this is why we can't have nice things

[allllium]

Heyaaa, I have a request! If it's not too much trouble, have you listened to too sweet by Hozier.. that song with the tf 141 boys (if it could be Ghost, it would be great!!)

Thanks in advance!!! And it's perfectly fine if you don't wanna!

~ I'm really sorry this took so long, I have not been feeling great but here it is. I hope you like this because honestly I am terrible at comprehending songs but I think this fits pretty well :)

~ If you're not happy with this for any reason please let me know and I will happily redo it with your advice <3

~ Fluff, WC: 1,189

You have a crush on Simon Riley. You know this, and so does everyone else, including him. Despite the very obvious adoration on your part he's never said anything about it.

You honestly have no idea how he feels about you and you're not sure you want to know. You do tons of little things for him and he does things for you, but that's all your relationship entails.

You are both so different it's not like you could ever fit together so perfectly, right?

I take my whiskey neat

“Here you are Lt.” You slide him a drink across the table. He makes a face behind his mask that you now recognize as his scowl. “Don't make that face at me.”

“You can't even see my face,” he replies, in his signature thick accent. “And I don't need you buying me drinks.”

“Well that's too bad 'cause’ I did. Don't tell me you're gonna let good whiskey go to waste.”

His deep brown eyes stare at you for a heavy moment before picking up the drink, lifting his mask just enough to show his cut jaw and full lips.

“Usually this is where I get a thank you.” You taunt him, trying not to let your gaze linger on what you can see of his perfect but slightly messed up face.

“Don't push your luck, Sargent.”

My coffee black…

“Oh dark like your soul, ain't that right Lt.” You gesture towards his black mug of black coffee.

Simon takes a deep breath as he takes in your words, his chest rising and falling in annoyance. He shakes his head silently, apparently not wanting to pleasure you with a response.

“Seriously, how do you drink that?” You put your hand on his perfect arm to push him out of the way of the coffee pot.

“Oh let me guess you take your coffee with a pound of sugar.” He rolls his eyes at you, in more of an attitude than you appreciate.

“Incorrect. I'm sweet enough as it is.” You smile at him while you turn around to stir your drink.

“Maybe a little too sweet don't you think?”

“Only to you.” You mutter under your breath.

…And my bed at three

“Oi Lt, what are you doing up at this hour?” You take amusement at the way this giant of a man jumps slightly at your voice.

“Did you just say oi?” He asks as if he didn't just hear you say it.

“Yes I did, do we need to get your hearing checked?” You make fun of him for the hundredth time that day.

“Why?” His gruff voice cuts through the air.

“I want it on record that I don't appreciate this attitude of yours. And I said "oi” because I'm becoming more like you.”

“I don't say oi.”

“I don't believe you. You sound like you say it.” You shrug and take a seat on the couch next to you.

“What does that mean?” He sits down next to you but he seems like he doesn't want a real answer.

“Your voice.”

“What's wrong with my voice?” This time it seems like he actually wants to know what you think.

“Oh nothing. It's a nice voice but it just gives me oi vibes.” He stares at you like you're crazy.

“I have a nice voice do I?”

“Don't let it get to your head.” You lay your head.on his shoulder.

No one speaks for a while but eventually Simon sits up. “It's three in the morning, we should get to bed.”

“Yeah that's probably smart.” You give him a big smile when you stand up. “Goodnight Lt.”

You're too sweet for me

“And here you are.” You take a dramatic bow as you hand Simon his gift, acting as if you just delivered the most important thing in the world.

“What is this?” He asks with a tone of impatientence.

“A gift.”

“It's not a holiday-” You quickly cut him off.

“Or your birthday I know, but I remember you saying something about it and got it for you”

“How do you know it's not my birthday, I've never told you that.” He pauses for a split second before continuing, “Did you look at my files?”

“That's not important, open your gift.” He shakes his head but opens the bag you've given him.

Quickly, he pulls out a mask just like the one he's currently wearing. A mask you've handmade just for him.

“What is this?” He instantly demands.

“That is what we call a mask sir. I remember you told me about that one having an annoying hole so I thought I'd help you out. Originally I was just gonna patch the hole but then I figured that mask has been through a lot so you deserved a new one.”

He loudly clears his throat. “I hope you know there won't be a gift in return.”

“I don't expect one, simply doing a nice thing.”

“Well thank you Sargent.” You smile at his thanks, feeling how much he means it.

“Anytime.” Is the only word you get in before he runs off.

You're too sweet for me

“You know this is basically our third date.” You randomly blurt out. You're sitting with Simon in a coffee shop off base. You don't know what you were expecting with Simon off base but one thing you never thought about when inviting him out is his absence of the mask.

Obviously wearing it would draw more attention than usual but now you're sitting straight across from the face of the man you're practically fawning over.

“This is not a date.” He defends roughly.

“Yes it is, our first was dinner and second was the bar so that makes this the third.”

“Those weren't dates, just outings between friends.” He runs his eyes everywhere but your face.

“Aww so you admit we're friends.” You can't help but tease. “But I'm being serious Simon. You can't deny it forever.”

“Yes I can.” He fiddles with his drink as you continue your mini interrogation.

“No you can't. I know you like me, Lt. Why won't you say it.”

“You're different.” He begins.

“If you start to say I'm dumb you're getting punched.”

“No! Of course not. You're different from me and I don't know if we would work.”

“Bullshit. Spill it.”

“Fine, you're too sweet.” He spits out as if it was fire coming out.

You can't help the bubbling laugh that spills out your mouth. “Too sweet? What does that even mean?” You ask him, still laughing.

“I don't know. You're too sweet to me, you give me things and you say all the right things and I don't think I could give all that back to you.”

‘I don't want you to give me anything back. I want you to give me you, you're too sweet for me too Lt. Even if it is in a different looking way.” You slide your hand across the table to lay on his. He returns your hold and gives you a smile that is uniquely his. This is all you need.

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty simon riley #call of duty simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #domestic ghost #ghost simon riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fanfic

[yuujispinkhair]

Hey Winter, What are your thoughts on a friends with benefits trope with Yuuji and the reader? Love your stories btw 💗💗🩷🩷

Friends with benefits with Yuuji

Yuuji loves to be friends, and he loves to fuck. So why not combine two of his favorite things? After all, he can be your best buddy and give you backshots, right?

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, College AU Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, fingering, oral, facesitting, fucking, squirting, loud sex. All characters are of age. Banners by @/benkeibear

It happens so naturally and without being planned or anything. Yuuji likes being your friend. He likes that you get along so well that you can laugh together and watch movies and play video games and cook together and go to fast-food restaurants in the middle of the night. He loves being best friends!

But Yuuji is also a horny boy, and he cannot stop his mind from providing him with dirty thoughts anytime you bend over and he sees your round ass right in front of his face. He cannot stop his body from reacting to being cuddled up with you under a blanket during a movie marathon and feeling your warm body press against him and your head landing in his lap, so damn close to his dick.

Yeah, he is embarrassed and feels guilty when he gets hard from watching you change in front of him. You thought it was no big deal to quickly shrug out of your shirt and sweatpants to put on a better outfit to leave the house. But Yuuji's dick decided it was a big deal, and now his honey eyes are heavy-lidded, and his tan cheeks are flushed. And you can definitely see the huge tent in your best friend's grey sweatpants.

Yuuji's sheepish smile and muttered apology don't take away the evidence that his body obviously wants you. He gulps hard as your eyes widen, and you grin while shaking your head,

"We can't go out like that, Yuu."

And he groans and nods,

"Yeah, I know! I am sorry! My dick is acting so stupid sometimes! Give me a few minutes, and it will be fine again."

He hopes he can will his erection away. Or should he just go to the bathroom and jack off? But before he can decide what to do, you take a step closer to him, and he feels a bit dizzy at the way your gaze is fixed on the bulge in his sweats while you lick your lips.

"Or... I could help you with that."

Maybe it's just meant as a joke. Maybe Yuuji is supposed to laugh and tell you to stop teasing him. But honestly, his ears are ringing, and he feels his cock twitch in interest at your words. He cannot think straight anymore. He always gets a bit stupid when he's horny. And so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is,

"You really wanna help? You don't have to..."

"It's ok, we are best friends. You are closer to me than anyone else, Yuu. And well, it's been a while since I touched a guy, and I kind of... crave it?"

Yuuji only blinks at you for a second before he nods wildly. How could he say no to such a nice offer? He's already lifting his hips and pushing down his sweats and the red boxer briefs underneath, spreading his muscular thighs and taking his fat cock in his hand and pumping it eagerly while a shaky moan escapes his lips,

"Fuck! Then yeah, help me please..."

The first touch of your fingertips to his swollen tip has him whining, and it only takes a short time before he cums all over your hand, nutting so hard that he sees stars.

Fuck, he likes that! It's so easy with you, so uncomplicated. He already likes you so much, and now he can also get his cock stroked by you and maybe even get a chance to touch you too. It really sounds like a perfect deal!

He hasn't even tucked himself back into his pants when the words tumble out of his mouth,

"Thank you... Um, can I repay the favor? I mean, you got me off, and it only seems fair that I get you off, too. Can I? Please?"

That's how you end up on his lap, naked from the waist down, two of Yuuji's thick fingers pumping in and out of your dripping wet cunt while his thumb plays with your clit, making you dig your nails into his broad shoulders and shake and tremble from the intensity of your orgasm on your best friend's hand.

Yuuji is the one who suggests the friends-with-benefits arrangement after that mind-altering experience. After all, he really likes being friends, and he really likes to fuck, so why not combine two of his favorite things? He simply cannot find any downside to that.

"So, we are best friends, and you made me cum, and I made you cum, and I really liked it. Was it good for you too? We could add that to our friendship. If it's ok with you. I mean, sometimes, you know? When we crave it. You are single, and I am single, and I don't really like going to clubs and finding someone just for one night. And you don't do that either. So, maybe we could just make each other feel good sometimes when we feel like it. Would that be ok?"

It is ok, and suddenly, your friendship is not just super fun and goofy but also super sexy.

Only two days later, you both get so riled up while sitting next to each other playing a video game that you end up sloppily making out and feeling each other up through your clothes, dry humping until you both can't take it anymore and tear at each other's clothes.

Finally, Yuuji's large hands are on your juicy ass, kneading your plump cheeks thoroughly while his eyes stare hungrily and his mouth is hanging open, drooling over himself as he looks at you on all fours in front of him, completely naked, ass wiggling teasingly for him, your pussy dripping wet and ready for him to fuck it and make you and him feel good.

Yuuji asks himself why he didn't think of this whole friends-with-benefits thing sooner! He moans so loud that the neighbors hear him when he finally sinks his fat cock into you and fucks you so good you nut three times for him and mewl his name over and over again.

The two of you start to experiment. Trying new positions, you never did before but always wanted to try. Learning each other's body and how to get the best reactions. It's shameless and easy. There are no secrets between you, no taboos. You are best friends, after all. You can tell each other everything. And do everything with each other.

You tell Yuuji no guy ever took such good care of you in bed when he pulls you on his face and eats you out for a whole hour. And it makes him so happy because he likes you so much, and you are his bestie and deserve the world, and Yuuji is delighted to give you that!

It's so natural, so easy to do this friends-with-benefits thing with you. You come to his apartment and tell him you are stressed, and Yuuji fucks you right there up against the wall and afterward on his bed and doesn't let go of you until you squirt all over his cock and are thoroughly satisfied and practically fucked dumb on his cock.

The two of you watch a movie, and your hand naturally slips into Yuuji's sweats to give him a slow handjob because you know he loves that while watching movies. And his hand slips into your pants, too, and rubs circles around your clit until you mess up your panties from cumming so much.

He groans about being so stressed from all those stupid assignments, and you crawl under his desk and give him a blow job that helps him relax, kissing his cum-stained tip afterward and smiling up at him and patting his thigh, telling him he will ace his assignment with your help.

And all the time, the two of you have so much fun, laughing about small mishaps and giggling after screaming each other's name during a particularly intense fuck. It's easy. It's fun. You know each other so well and trust each other completely. It's so freeing to just fuck each other on top of being best friends. There is no shame, no holding back, just horny, needy fucking anytime you need it.

And comforting, sweet kisses and warm cuddles.

You both don't realize that you are practically already a couple. Maybe the kissing marathons should give it away, the hours cuddled up in bed where you just kiss and talk and smile at each other. Maybe the fact that neither of you even tries to get to know someone else should be an indicator.

The two of you go to a party together, which is a perfectly normal thing best friends do. Ok, Yuuji admits that the way you dance with each other is a bit dirtier than only friends would do, but he is fine with people knowing you are friends with benefits, and this is nothing new after all.

But what is new is that you kiss him right there in the middle of the dancefloor, and it somehow makes Yuuji feel so proud that he is the only one you kiss. He finds that he can't pull away from you, and so he just keeps kissing you, just keeps pulling you tighter against his body, making out with you until his head spins.

It is Nobara who asks the question when she walks into the kitchen later on and sees how Yuuji has you pressed up against the fridge with his tongue down your throat and your fingers in his pink hair.

"What the fuck? Why didn't you two tell me you are dating??"

"Because we aren't."

"When what is this?"

"We are friends... friends who make out and... have sex sometimes."

"Don't give me that shit. The two of you have practically been married for two years. Everyone says that. We were just wondering why you never made it official. Oh well, the cat's out of the bag now. Quick, let me text everyone!!"

And with that, Nobara leaves Yuuji and you standing there, your fingers still tangled in Yuuji's soft pink strands, your lips still swollen from his kisses, and finally, something clicks in his mind, and he smiles his sheepish smile at you and is like,

"I didn't know I am a married man, but I kinda like it. What about you?"

HE MAKES ME FEEL SO AAAHHHH!!!! I ruined my panties writing this. Thank you so much for sending me this prompt!! I see Yuuji as the best guy for friends to lovers, and the friends-with-benefits trope is the perfect way to get there!! I really think he is incapable of keeping things casual but also kind of oblivious until someone else points it out ;)

I love horny boy Yuuji!! I hope you like him too!!

Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments would be super sweet 💗

#yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji smut #itadori smut #yuji smut #yuuji x you #itadori x you #yuji x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #yuuji x y/n #itadori x y/n #yuji x y/n #jjk fluff #yuuji fluff #itadori fluff #yuji fluff

[cupidhoons]

HIS CHEERLEADER

SUMMARY You and Heeseung are friends with benefits. But, why did you have such an effect on him? PAIRING sports player ! heeseung x nerdy fem ! reader (slight jake x fmr) GENRE oneshot & highschool! au, romance, fluff, f2l WARNINGS y/n and heeseung are said to be fwb, heeseung is down bad for you, kissing, swearing, grammar errors, bad writing of sports, lmk if there's more!

"STOP LOOKING FOR HER."

Heeseung whipped his head towards Jake, his expression cross. "I'm not looking for her. She's probably not coming to watch anyway. She doesn't like these types of environments." Heeseung looks down and fidgets with his fingers. "Though, it would be really nice if she came. I'd do better on court." His lower lip coming out without him intending to. Jake laughs at his best friend's sorrowness.

"You look like a lost puppy when you talk about her. Are you sure being 'friends with benefits' is all you want?" He questioned while making air quotes around friends with benefits.

Heeseung defends himself. "We aren't even doing that! We just kiss sometimes and that's it, but it's not a big deal."

Jake narrowed his eyes toward Heeseung. "So, if I said that Y/n was hot and I wanted to take her out one day, you would be okay with it?" His jaw clenched as he looked at Jake. "No, I wouldn't be okay with it. You can't do anything with her or I will-"

"Okay okay! It was a joke Heeseung. I wouldn't actually go for your girl." Heeseung's cheeks burn at Jake's last words. His girl had a pretty nice ring to it. There was no denying that he wanted to make you his.

"Y/n isn't my girl. She only sees me as a friend and sometimes we like to try things."

"I don't understand why you're so interested in her. She's pretty, but she's the complete opposite of you. She's got the brain and smarts and you are...well, Heeseung."

Heeseung looked down. "You aren't supposed to understand when you like someone. It just happens." Jake laughs at his friend before shaking his head. "So, you do like her."

"I don't."

"Yeah, and I don't have a dog named Layla."

"Fuck you." Jake laughs hysterically as Heeseung walks to the court and plays with the volleyball in his hand. His heart hammers in his chest as he gets ready to serve. But, he hears a voice pierce through the air.

"Go Heeseung!"

His focus is suddenly disrupted and the ball goes straight into the net. Fuck. Heeseung's eyes go wide. Even though there's tons of people cheering his name, it's different when he hears your voice. He malfunctions a bit. Why did his mind turn into mush when it comes to you?

"Hey lover boy, get your shit together!" Jake exclaims as Heeseung shakes his head and furrows his eyebrows. When did you have this effect on him?

You sat on the bleachers as you watched the boys play. You didn't expect to come, but you chose to be there for him because he was so excited to watch him play. Besides, you needed a change to setting considering that you were always in your room.

You watch as your friend serves again, and the ball goes in the air this time. You see that a lot of girls are here to cheer on the guys, and it's pretty obvious that a lot of the boys got the girls that want them. You wonder if anyone else has eyes for Heeseung.

You wouldn't be able to complain about it, he's cute and has an attractive build since he played sports. His muscles show that he's been working out and his tank top of revealing all of it. He looks perfect.

You can't also deny that you have eyes for your best friend, you find him attractive. Sometimes, you think that you feel a little bit more than you should. And it scares you, just a bit, though.

"Hey Y/n!" Jake says walking towards you during their water break. You smile as you hand him his bottle. "Hey Jake! How long have you been out here?" He settles himself beside you as you scoot over a bit for him. Heeseung's friends are so incredibly fine, there was no denying. "Mmm I'm not sure, maybe since nine? I don't know...But, I should tell you something."

You go closer to him and the glimpse him and see Heeseung staring at you both. Jake has a glint in his eyes that tells you he's about to cause trouble. How silly Jake is. "I'll tell you later since Heeseung is coming over. But," He puts his mouth by your ear and whispers. "I think Heeseung doesn't really like it when I talk to you alone. I think he might have feelings for you." Your eyes grow wide and Jake giggles at your reaction. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

You smile shyly at him as Heeseung replaces his spot when Jake leaves. "What's up with him? Did you touch you?"

"No. Well, not in an uncomfortable way anyway." You nod. You feel him put an arm around you. You freeze.

He might really like you.

What's wrong?" He notices the way you look bewildered.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Anyway, go play for me." Heeseung laughs as you slightly nudge him.

"Do you want me to show off or something?"

"Why not? I get to have the man that everyone wants." You scrunch your nose. There was a funny thing about you being her at his games. The way you would just say the flirtiest lines for fun to taunt him made him feel weirdly happy.

When he needed motivation, you were his solution. You pushed him to his limits, and he didn't know why. Maybe he wanted to show of just a little to make you proud. But, he loved when your smile seemed to be wider when you saw him. He wanted to see that everyday.

So, with courage, you finally let it out. Jake gave you a boost of confidence into saying what was on your mind, so you wanted to try. "Think of it this way, if you win this one for me...I'll go out with you. For real this time. Not as friends, but something more." Heeseung's jaw went slack as the words left your mouth.

The blush was evident on your face as the moment passes by, but Heeseung finally get his senses back and beams.

"I would love to go out with you as something more." You smile at his answer, thankful that he didn't reject your offer. You suppose you owe Jake for this. "Then, play well for me babe."

Now, it's Heeseung's turn to be blushing. You didn't know where you got the sudden pet name from, but you sure did love seeing a flustered Heeseung in front of you.

"I sure as hell will." He nods his blushing head.

You watch him walk back to the court. Jake look at you with a knowing glance. He knows damn well that you did something during the break. You feel like your sudden boldness came out of nowhere, and you weren't sure what to think of it. It's funny how a single guy can make you feel so giddy inside.

As the match begins, you watch as he dives for the ball to keep it up. When spiking it, he makes sure he gives it his all. Jake continues to glance at you from time to time, trying to understand what exactly you did to make his friend play harder.

With every hit, he looks over at you, who gives him the biggest smile. He feels euphoric.

THE MATCH ENDS in the next hour. The Decelis team destroyed the other side with a 2-1 game and the last set with 25-14 points.

He really tried this one. Your eyes are wide as his team starts to cheer and yell in victory. The girls from the bleachers running towards the group to congratulate them and probably ask them out. You see a few girls crowding around Heeseung, who seems to not care at all. His focus is on you and you only.

You laugh at him struggling to get through the crowd around him. You find it a classic that he had girls crawling to him as you still sat on the bleachers. His eyes on you, a wide grin drawn on his face because he knows what's coming. He rejects the girls asking him out and nearly trips on his way to you.

"You don't have to rush y'know. I don't wanna ruin the party." You say lightly as Heeseung pulls you up to your feet and presses his lips on yours. You're shocked by the sudden intimacy from your friend. You can hear Jake screaming at you two and it makes you want to laugh, but you can't. Not when Heeseung is kissing you like your his last breath in front of everyone. He's putting all his emotion into it.

You feel his arm snake around your face as you push him away. He chases your lips and you groan. "You are so sweaty Hee! Get off!"

"No. Not when you're finally mine." He holds you tighter to his body. You grab the towel around his neck and start to wipe his sweaty face and arms. You giggle as you lock eyes with him.

"Are you that in love with me? Your eyes say everything."

"Duh, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since we became friends. Why do you think we were experimenting with kisses and couple-y stuff?"

"Well, I don't know. I just thought you wanted some fun." You shrug as he frowns.

"I wanted to ask you out first, but you beat me to it. And, I didn't like it when Jake basically made out with your cheek." You laugh at his remark. "I really did! Made me want to die knowing my girl let a guy kiss her cheek!" He added, making you laugh even harder. You whack him and push his clingily self off you to get your things.

"So, about that date? Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere with you there. Also, promise me something." You nod as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Your heart feels like it's about to explode and its freaking you out. You see Jake across the court putting his thumbs up for you two. He's happy that you two finally got together. Heeseung kisses your hand and you blush harder than ever.

"Be there for me when I need you. Come to my games and kiss me often. I'm more of a physical guy y'know."

"I know, and I promise." You laugh and kiss him again.

As he stares down at you, Heeseung knows he made the right choice with you, His mom likes you, and you get along with his friends. You are only girl for him. You loved him for him, you were in this for him. He couldn't be any happier to know the girl of his dreams is finally his girlfriend and his number one cheerleader.

END.

NOTE hi :) if you made it this far, then thank you so much for reading and i hope enjoyed!! please like + reblog cuz it'll really be appreciated!! thank you sm for reading, and hope you come back to my blog for more of my works!

BACK TO THE SHELF !

#heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #heeseung oneshots #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enha #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhablr

[reallyromealone]

Can you do a long fic where bakugou has a baby brother like maybe 2 years old?

Title: sibling bonding

Fandom:my hero Academia

Warnings: male reader, baby reader, fluff, big brother Bakugo, soft Bakugo

Notes: I can't promise a long fic as my fic lengths are based off of how much steam I have but ill write what I can

☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️

Bakugo was happy to have the house mostly alone, his parents in Milan for two weeks he had off for a fashion show.

Why was he mostly alone?

Well they couldn't take his little brother, the two year old didn't do planes well and it was just easier to find a sitter or let him stay with someone for the time, usually their aunty. "Uh-oh" (name) said as he dropped his sippy cup carefully lifting it back up before wandering to his brother "ka!" He said happily as he climbed onto the couch "what squirt?" Katsuki said to the young tot who looked at his phone "what do?" He asked as Katsuki got notifications from discord "I'm texting a few friends, they're coming to visit later for a movie" he was always so soft with his brother, sure he was loud as the rest of his family but his baby brother took more after their dad so he always tried to be gentle.

"Oovee?" He asked curiously and Katsuki nodded "yeah a movie, we gotta get some snacks for you and me before it" he said to the boy who smiled "cake!" "No cake but we can get you a cake pop when we get our walk home drink" Katsuki knew how to compromise with the boy who clapped his hands excitedly.

Katsuki helped (name) put on his shoes before putting him on his shoulders, it was easier to do than hold his hands and (name) got to have fun.

The two went to the convenience store as (name) pointed to various snacks, Katsuki having to hinder the boy with the fact he wanted /everything/ the store had to offer but did compromise with some ice cream and little treats for after dinner and such.

"Cake!" (Name) was absolutely thrilled when Katsuki handed him a cake pop, the teen holding the snacks with one hand and had (name) on his hip as they walked home, (name) eating his treat contently, the boy taking a sip from their drink occasionally.

(Name) loved helping his brother, the tot getting to help put things together for the hang out "you get to watch a movie then it's bath time alright?" Katsuki said to his brother who did a little dance before running off to go play with his toys 'weird kid' Katsuki thought fondly as he finished prep.

"YOOOO BAKUBRO!" Kirishima said as he and a few other classmates entered the Bakugo house, Kaminari whistling at how nice it was inside "whose ready to paaaarty!" Mina said as her, ochaco and Momo came inside with snacks "let's watch some scary...shoopuff" mina halted when she saw the two year old in Katsukis arms, little (name) looking curious but recognized Kirishima from a few visits "little man!" Kirishima ran and grabbed the boy and lifted him "what's up!"

"Hiiii!"

"Whose the kid?" Kaminari asked as (name) spoke nonsense to Kirishima but it was probably his day if any context about "walk" and "cake pop" were to go off of "that's my brother" Katsuki said gruffly, a slight glare on his face as his friends looked at the babe curiously.

During the movie, the teens would notice Bakugo would be soft with the boy even when he scolded him "oi, leave that alone" "but you're smelly!" (Name) argued back, holding a book in his hands "put it down and park your ass and watch the movie or its night time" Bakugo said to his brother who huffed but complied "you're not my favorite brother anymore!"

"Ah? And who is?"

"Dad!"

The movie went on well, the group putting on a hero movie and before they knew it, it was (name)s bath time "bubububbub!" (Name) was pleased with the bubbles as he played with his toys, his older brother working around him to wash him "head back" the teen said gruffly as he put a visor on the boys forehead and rinced out the shampoo before repeating it with the conditioner "kaa! Ducky!" The boy squirted some water at his brother who rolled his eyes "wanna see something cool?" He asked his little brother who looked curious "ya!'

Katsuki put his hand in the water and activated his quirk, just enough to give a jacuzzi affect "whoa!" The boy said excitedly as Katsuki pulled his hand out "now, out ya go!"

"Nooo!"

"None of that! Come on, let's brush your fucking teeth and get you to bed brat"

(Name) cuddled into his brothers shoulder as he wore his fuzzy pajamas, the other teens waving him goodnight as Katsuki brought him to his bedroom and tucked him into bed "hah? What's this?" Katsuki held up a small handmade plush of him in his hero suit "Die'ite!" (Name) grabbed the plush and Katsuki felt a small smile creep on his face as his little brother hugged the toy "he a hero you like?"

"He's the bestest!"

#bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x male reader #bakugo x male reader #male reader #x male reader #child reader #baby reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》 To Hold or Be Held?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; writing witj this many characters was scary . pls ignore any typos or errors or mischaracterisation im learning. reblogs appreciated!!

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Nikolai, Fyodor, gn!reader ( fem terms in fyodors and mentions of boobs in nikolais parts )

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; fluff, cuddles, all those nice things, nikolai being nikolai, possible mischaracterisation

dazai

dazai doesn't have a preference. he enjoys both being held and holding you for the same reason. when he's holding you, he's holding on tight - part of him is still scared you're gonna leave him if he gets too comfortable. and if you're holding him he always finds himself melting into you, his hands shakily gripping at your clothes as he smothers himself against your chest. he adores how your hands find his hair and comb through it. if he puts all his weight onto you, you can't go anywhere, right?

".. 'm sorry .. don't get up, just five more minutes. I'll be good ..- you're warm .. 'm sorry.. "

chuuya

chuuya prefers to hold. be adores the feeling of you in his arms, it makes him feel like he's protecting you from the known - blanketed by his strong embrace. he traces 'I love you's on your back knowing you're too comfortable and sleepy to know what he's writing - his thumb writes his name into your hip when you think he's just rubbing circles. little possessive things like that, just to quietly manifest that you stay with him. he can press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and tease you for being so clingy ; even though he's holding you tight too.

".. you need the bathroom? .. you can hold it, jus' stay with me for a while longer .. I love you .. pretty thing you are .."

atsushi

atsushi prefers to hold. while he won't ever deny being held, usually he finds himself pulling you on top of him to keep you in his embrace while he takes a nap. your head on his chest and his arms resting around your waist, while he gently purrs to soothe you to sleep with him. he hasn't been able to take solo naps since you've been around - and he knows you enjoy resting with him too, anyway. so what's the harm when he tugs you over to the detective agency couch and asks you to take a quick break? you've both been working hard , after all.

"let's have a quick break, okay? we can stay finish everything later .. you're gonna exhaust yourself out, sweetheart .. just 10 minutes .."

akutagawa

akutagawa prefers to be held. he'll never admit it to anyone, especially not to you. but you can see the way he relaxes and sinks into you when you wrap your arms around him. the way he takes a long exhale and his shoulders deflate as your hand traces a certain spot on his back. he likes listening to your heartbeat, he likes knowing you're alive and with him for who he is - and not what he can do. he's still learning to love and to trust, but it's a little easier when it's by your side. he hopes you wont leave him, he'll work to impress you as he grows.

".. what? no, I'm not falling asleep. you're imagining things. you .. mm .. can you do that again ?"

nikolai

nikolai doesn't have a preference. he's like a big dog, despite his size he'll absolutely lay himself on top of you and nuzzle into your chest. if you have boobs then he won't be moving for a while, so kiss your oxygen goodbye. whenever he wants to hold you, he's not really one to ask ; he'll just drag you over onto him or use a portal to drop you into his lap, then he's clinging to you and whining desperately whenever you try to leave. he's just big and clingy, but can you fault him? he finds you so comforting.

" .. where are you going? no! you can't leave .. do you not love me anymore ?.. why do you wanna leave !.. just stay with me .. thank you .."

fyodor

fyodor prefers to hold. if neither was an option, it'd most likely be that. but he regularly asks you to come sit on his lap while he works. a small whistle as he turns his chair, patting his thigh - and he'll wrap an arm around you to keep you close. he's not too affectionate, and too much touching before your marriage repulses him. but he'll learn to deal with these little moments for a while - it gives him his energy back and helps him with a little push to finish his work so you rest together.

" .. зайчик .. come here. no, I'm not finished. just come. don't be disobedient , now .. there we are. good girl."

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu #osamu x you #dazai osamu fic #osamu x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #yandere chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #atsushi x reader #atsushi x you #atsushi nakajima x reader #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa x you #nikolai x reader #nikolai x you #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai gogol x you #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff

[littleseasiren]

Hypothetically speaking

Summary: Hypothetically speaking, Bucky Barnes is the perfect man. You have a list that proves it. What happens when someone overhears you telling Natasha about it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Words: A drabble at 800 words

"All I'm saying is, hypothetically, Bucky is the perfect boyfriend," you whisper to Natasha over the kitchen table. 

"And why do you think that?"  Her green eyes stare past you, making you nervous for a second before her gaze meets yours. "Hypothetically speaking, of course." Natasha knew how you felt about Bucky but humoured you nonetheless.

You don't hear anything so you continue, "Well, I mean, he's the full package. Just look at what he's like," you chuckle. You lift your thumb as you start counting the points. "He's handsome with his dark hair and his eyes to die for." Your index finger goes up, "He's quiet but authoritative, like the time he saw a guy bothering me at the bar. He didn't hesitate before threatening him with bodily harm if he didn't stop bothering not just me - but all the ladies in the bar." Your middle finger rises, "He's got muscles galore like we've seen when he and Steve burn off extra energy in the gym and take their shirts off." Your ring finger raises, "And he's kind - too kind sometimes. Remember I told you about that time we were stuck in the rain in the middle of nowhere on a mission? He gave me his jacket and stood freezing in the pouring rain for more than an hour while we waited for our pickup." Finally, your pinkie raises, "Then there's the vibranium arm," you say as you drop your hand, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Natasha smirks at the look that crosses your face when you talk about Bucky's prosthetic arm. "What about his arm? Most people would think it's a bad thing."

"Huh, as if! If they think that, then they're stupid. His arm is amazing. The black and gold design makes him look like a masterpiece painting. If I were an artist, I could spend hours watching him, getting every shadow and groove perfectly immortalized on the canvas." You giggle softly before continuing, "He's super strong - even stronger than Steve is, with that arm. He has amazing coordination and precision, and the temperature difference between his human hand and his vibranium hand is awesome. On a hot day, you can hold his left hand without sweating like crazy, and on a cold day, his right hand will be nice and toasty. But the biggest thing?" You take a deep breath, "His arm is vibranium, so I'm 100% sure his arm won't fall asleep like a normal man's when spooning with him in bed. A woman can lie on that arm for hours - I'm sure Bucky won't move an inch. That's the type of man he is..." A dreamy look passes over your face as you imagine yourself in that situation.

A perfect eyebrow raises in question, "Honey, why don't you just tell him you like him?" 

"What? No, I don't! I was speaking hypothetically!" You aren't like Natasha, you can't just walk up to Bucky and confidently tell him you like him. Just thinking about it makes you anxious.

Natasha's smile is huge as a shadow hovers over you, making you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

Please, please don't let someone be behind me.

"Hypothetically speaking," a deep, confident voice starts behind you, making you drop your head into your hands, "if I do my best to live up to your expectations, would you go out with me tonight?"

You slowly raise your head, seeing Natasha leave the kitchen quietly and Bucky take her spot opposite you.

Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?

You can't meet his eyes, your cheeks burning with humiliation as your eyes focus on your wiggling hands. "Uh, Bucky, how much did you hear?" 

This time, Bucky's voice is softer, unsure. "Pretty much everything. I know I shouldn't have listened; I couldn't help myself. Not when I heard your hypothetical. How about it, doll? Do you want to go out with me on a date?"

"Bucky, you don't have to do that just because I embarrassed myself. You don't want to go out with me."

You slowly meet his blue eyes, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. "Of course, I want to, doll. I honestly just never thought you would want to go out with me. You're so sweet and beautiful. I just never thought someone like you would be interested in me. Not with all my baggage." His gaze becomes nervous at your hesitation. "If you give me a chance, I promise I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

Can he be any sweeter? "You could never disappoint me, Bucky. You're amazing." 

His face lights up at your honest reply. "So, how about it, doll? Let me take you out on a date. If you play your cards right, I'll let you test your theory on my arm tonight. I promise I won't move an inch if I get to hold you all night long. I won't even cop a feel tonight; I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise." 

You can't stop from giggling, feeling mischievous. You weren't making stupid promises like that, something he might figure out soon if all goes well. "It's a deal, Sarge," you reply as you grasp his hands, shivering from the hot and cold sensation. 

This is going to be fun. 

Tag List:

@cjand10

@buggy14

@crazyunsexycool

@tripleoyaa

@mandijo17

@fluffysucker

@moviegurl2002

@shelbygeek

#bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky fluff #the avengers #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #natasha romanoff #avengers tower #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh

Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)

Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG

Word count: 3.7 k

Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.

A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕

"I'm tired of using those things."

Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 

You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.

You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.

And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 

Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?

"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.

"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.

You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean…?"

The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.

"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"

Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.

"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 

"They are." 

The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 

And Simon never said he didn't want children.

It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 

He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.

Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…

It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 

And it did. It more than just did.

He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.

Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.

You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 

It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.

But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.

He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 

That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 

Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 

But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.

Until this night…

This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 

You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.

And this time, he won't even let you play.

"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 

As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 

He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 

Serves the damn thing right…

You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.

You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.

The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.

His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.

And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.

You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.

The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.

"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.

"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.

You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 

He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 

You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 

"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 

"Hell yeah."

The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 

You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.

A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.

His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.

And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 

His little helper, indeed…

"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"

His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.

He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…

"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."

He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.

"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."

Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.

"I'll manage," you whisper.

"I know you will."

The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.

He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.

"Wait–"

"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.

"The–the boys?"

He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 

Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?

"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."

This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.

"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.

"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."

The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 

"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"

He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.

"Right back at ya, darling."

"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.

"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 

"Love… fuckin' hell."

He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 

But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.

"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."

Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 

The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.

A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.

"Luv. You trust me?"

You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 

"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.

Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.

"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"

"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."

He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.

Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 

You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.

"Faster, Simon, please…" 

"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "

And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 

"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.

"Yes–give it to me, please–"

Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…

You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 

Simon–fuck…

There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 

Fuck–!

…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.

"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 

He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.

And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 

It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.

If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.

He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.

"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.

"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."

He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.

"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."

His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.

"Got a fair point there, love."

Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.

"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.

"That was the best."

He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.

"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."

"You think that did it..?"

He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.

"No half-assing with my sweetheart."

One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.

"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.

"I wouldn't say no to that."

You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.

And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."

Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.

And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"

After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...

There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.

"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.

"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.

"What if ice cream won't help?"

"I'll bring you chocolate."

You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 

"You're really not afraid…?"

"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."

"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."

"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.

"Simon... What made you change your mind?"

He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.

"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."

You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.

"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.

"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.

"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.

"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."

He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 

There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #soft simon riley #soft ghost #fluff and smut #call of duty #mw2 fluff

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen

#miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n

[ferraridepartment]

❝ their adopted child ❞

pairing: lando norris x queer!fem!reader (platonic)

summary: reader is a reserve driver for mclaren and has a girlfriend. lando is their adopted child.

warnings: this is my first fic ever!! but overall, just fluff!

nora's radio: don't forget to reblog and like if you enjoy it! my requests are open. check my guidelines before request. 🩷

daily click | help palestine

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others

oscarpiastri resting and with good company 🍣❤️

view comments

user1 OMG THEY ARE ON A DOUBLE DATE 🥹🥹

user2 God i am waiting for my turn

yourgf we loved it to see you and lily, osc!! 🫶

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

user3 her and y/n are the perfect match

user4 the things i would do to be part of this group 😩

landonorris @/yourusername err... eXCUSE ME???

yourusername ?? wtf

landonorris WHY Y'ALL ARE HANGING OUT WITHOUT ME????????

yourusername IT WAS A DOUBLE DATE????

landonorris yes, and?

yourusername and since WHEN do you eat sushi? 🤨

landonorris maybe you have a point... 😒

yourgf don't worry, lando!! the next time, you can go shopping with me and y/n

landonorris y/n, your girlfriend is so much better than you

yourusername can't argue about that 🤷‍♀️

user5 lando and y/n are so unserious 😭

yourusername

liked by yourgf, landonorris, and others

yourusername shopping day with MY girl!! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 .... and lando as well ig

view comments

landonorris thanks for paying my lunch 😋

user6 i love how y/n acts like she can't stand lando, but at the end of the day, she treats him like a son lol

yourgf @/user6 she also paid for everything lando wanted at the store 😂

user6 LMAO

yourusername BABY. you don't need to expose me like that :((

yourgf sorry darling (i'm not), but it's the truth!!

user7 me and who

user8 two mommies with their son

liked by yourusername and yourgf

lando.jpg

📍finland

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, and others

lando.jpg finland feat. my moms 😁

view comments

user9 pls this is adorable

user10 my favorite family

riabish aaaaah i miss u guys so much!!! ☹️

yourusername RIAAAAA i miss u sm baby 🥹 pls lmk when you are coming to a race, and we NEED to hang out again asap!! 🙈💞

yourgf we need another girls' night 🤭

user12 okay, but can we talk about that lando literally went on a trip to finland with y/n and [your gf]???

user13 right?? they could be doing anything else during winter break, but they are making a trip together 🥹❤️‍🩹

user14 pls he is their adopted son atp

yourusername ig i don't have a choice but accept that u are our adopted child...

yourgf babe, be nice.

yourusername yes ma'am 🫡🧎‍♀️

landonorris 😁😁😁😁😁

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and others

yourusername we are baaackkk!!! 🧡😼

view comments

mclaren we missed our papaya boys/girl!

yourusername and i missed u, admin!

user15 manifesting a good season for mclaren 🧘

landonorris of all the pictures you really had to choose THIS ONE?????

yourusername but you look so babygirl here :(

user16 LOL i can't with y/n

yourgf MY pretty girl 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🩷💞

yourusername no you!!!! 🤭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🩷

let me know what y'all think! i'm still unsure if i like it or not 😭

#˖˚✦ ferraridepartment archive #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 x reader #fluff #formula one #formula 1 #ln4 x reader #ln4

[bluebeary-jay]

How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #i will actually be taking a break because i have uni stuff to do which i REALLY neglected on behalf of this fic #i really got carried away with this one and the final scene took me so long to write omg #i really tried to approach this topic with respect and understanding and i very much hope it's alright #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #the last of us fic

[lxclerc]

𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏

summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo

note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.

dailyynupdates

liked by user33, user4, user16 and others

dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen

view all 104,210 comments...

user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected

user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across

user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people

user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?

user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job

user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over

user93 dare i say...they're adorable

user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come

user74 we won for real 🥹🫶

dailyynupdates

liked by user23, user31, user69 and others

dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭

view all 59,129 comments...

user93 oh my god look at them 😭

user81 they look so in love i want to cry

user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭

user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week

user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken

user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me

user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀

sincerelyyn ✓

liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others

sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

view all 402,452 comments...

yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒

sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu

taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️

sincerelyyn ❤️❤️ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved

conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶

sincerelyyn die 🫶

user92 their friendship is everything to me

user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭

user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️

user65 you're so right

user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭

user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭

maxverstappen1

liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷

view all 308,291 comments...

charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening

maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid

landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭

user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❤️ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍 maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed

user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in

user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭

sincerelyyn love youuuu

maxverstappen1 love you more

sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3

maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭

danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous

maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us

sincerelyyn

liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others

sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️

view all 592,649 comments...

maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️

sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)

i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fluff

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (26/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Burning things is a good way to get rid of stuff. But perhaps you and Charles have more in common than you like.

Warnings: this is quite angsty (mentions of cheating, Annika and Raphael), fire (of course), some fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: this is a long one. but well, I felt like it. there are some Easter eggs in this chapter, tell me which one you found! feedback is appreciated (as always, please and thank you!)

Since your newly purchased items have not made it any further into the apartment than the hallway, Charles' bedroom looks pretty empty. There are three large boxes next to the door, which gradually fill up the longer you stay in the room. 

"What about this?" you ask Charles and show him a pink candlestick that was recently on the windowsill. 

Your roommate pulls his head out of the closet. "Throw it away."

"Okay." You try not to trip over anything as you walk over to the door and place the item in the left box, which already contains a vase and empty picture frames. As you straighten up again, a shirt flies past your face before landing in the right box.

"Sorry," Charles mumbles, without taking his eyes off the clothes in front of him. 

"It's all right." You glance at the chest of drawers against the wall. "What about this?" you ask, pointing to the few books arranged by size on the dark wood. 

Charles sighs. "Just assume you can throw away everything in this room." Another item lands in the box on the right. 

Unsure, you bite the inside of your cheek.

The idea was to get all the stuff Annika left in the bedroom out of the apartment and - if possible - burn it in Jori's fire bowl, in the hope that Charles can have closure. The box on the left is for things that can't easily be turned into ashes, such as picture frames, candlesticks or small, empty flower pots. The middle one is for things Annika couldn't pack in her haste, like jewelry, clothes, electronics. She would come to collect them at some point. 

The box on the right is for flammable things. The pictures from photo frames, books, tickets from events the couple attended together - and the clothes Charles throws in. And it looks like they're his. 

"Can I ask why you're throwing away your clothes?" you ask timidly as you sit down on the bed. You run your fingers over the soft fabric, which will also end up in the right-hand box later. 

Charles pushes some empty hangers aside before taking a jacket off the hanger. "Everything in this room is from when Annika and I were a couple." He shows you the jacket. "I was wearing this the first time we went to the racetrack together. Our first public appearance as a couple." He throws the jacket towards the door before grabbing the next item - a sweater. "I wore this one on the first Valentine's Day. We went out for dinner and then to the movies."

You purse your lips. "And you want to get rid of all these memories? Even if they are nice ones?"

The sweater lands on the jacket before Charles turns to you and looks at you for the first time since you walked into this room. "That woman cheated on me. Took advantage of my trust and broke it." His gaze is rock hard. "Whoever she was to me, she doesn't deserve to have her memories here. I want to put it all behind me. I want to be free."

You see a sad glint in his eyes, which you don't address. Instead, you get up from the bed and begin to sort out everything that's still lying around into the boxes, while Charles pulls one item of clothing after another out of the closet. 

Apart from a little rustling and your footsteps, the room is silent. You want to give Charles his space, give him the peace and quiet he needs to sort out his thoughts and really come to terms with the relationship. The fact that he has asked you to help him with this warms your heart. Because even though you've only known each other for a short time, he's the person you care most about. The person you would run to immediately if your life went down the drain. The person you can tell everything to without being judged. 

You seem to be that person for Charles too - the person he can trust without having to worry, the person who would help him bury a body - this feeling warms you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. 

"I think that's it," Charles finally interrupts the silence and closes the now empty closet behind him while you remove the cover from one of the two pillows. His gaze wanders from your face to your hands. "You don't need to do that. We'll put the bedding in a big bag and then it can all go."

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly, but put the pillow back on the bed. 

"Very sure. I don't want to sleep in a bed she slept in or cover myself with a blanket she slept under. I just want to put it behind me."

"Okay." You walk around the bed and put in the clothes that missed the box. "Which car do we take? My Renault is still at the old place and your Ferrari won't fit the stuff." Besides, it would be too conspicuous and you don't want us to be seen in it together.

"There's an old car of my brother's downstairs in the garage. It's bigger than the Ferrari," he calls out from the hallway, where he's rummaging around in one of the cupboards before entering the bedroom again. In his hand he holds a huge blue plastic bag from a Swedish furniture store. "If that's not enough, I've got another one."

It's not enough. The bedding actually has to be divided into three different bags until the bed is empty except for the mattress. As Charles stands at the front door, one bag on each shoulder and a box - containing the last bag - in his hands, he peeks past it. "Can you open the door for me, please? I'd like to take the things downstairs."

As packed as he is, you have to stifle a grin. The Monegasque looks like a pack mule. "You can walk several times, you know that? Then you won't be straining your shoulders."

Your flatmate blows a strand of hair out of his forehead. "No way. I'd rather fall down the stairs before I have to walk twice."

As you open the door and press the elevator button for him, you just shake your head. "Then it's a good thing there's an elevator here. You'll still have to go a second time."

While Charles takes the things to the underground garage, you put the other two boxes by the front door before you go in search of another large bag. As Charles has already used all the available bags from the hall cupboard, you have no choice but to take a bin liner from the kitchen. As you hear him grab the second box, you poke your head out of the kitchen. 

"I'll bring the other box in a minute. You can wait downstairs by the car, okay?"

"All right," he replies and puts the box on his hip. "It shouldn't be that heavy. It's just the picture frames and stuff in there." He smiles at you. "See you in a bit then. But hurry up."

You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh before he disappears with the box in his hands. When you're alone, you walk from the kitchen into the living room, where the red roses that Charles must have forgotten are still on the white piano. You carefully put them in the bag, taking care not to tear the thin plastic, and then tie it up before dragging the bin bag into the hallway and putting it in the box.

The roses make the box much heavier than expected and when you arrive a few minutes later, panting, in the underground parking garage where Charles is already waiting to meet you, you are glad when he takes it off your hands. 

"What's in there?" he asks, pointing to the bag after placing the box in the trunk of the silver car.

You shrug your shoulders. "I found this. We can burn it if you like," you simply reply and drop into the passenger seat while Charles closes the trunk. 

The drive to Joris is shorter than expected and although it's not too late, the sky is already turning red, as if the sun is about to set. There's some song on the radio that you don't know and Charles isn't humming along to. As he finally steers the car through the familiar narrow alley and then pulls on the handbrake in a parking lot, the front door opens and Joris enters the courtyard. 

"Hello, you two," he greets you as you get out of the car. While he shakes Charles' hand, he presses a kiss to your cheek, first on the left and then on the right. "You said on the phone that you wanted to burn something?" He rubs his hands together excitedly. 

Your roommate nods and opens the trunk. "Not only that." He takes one of the boxes - the one with Annika's belongings - and hands it to his buddy. "I'd like to leave them here, if that's possible. I don't want to see Annika again and I'd be incredibly grateful if you could give her her things back."

"Of course," he replies and takes a look in the trunk. "What about this?" With a nod, he points to the box with the picture frames. 

"This," Charles begins the sentence before grabbing the box and walking over to one of the garbage containers that must belong to Jori's house. Without giving it much thought, he dumps the contents into the garbage can before rejoining you to take the three bags of bedding and throwing them into the container as well. "'Is garbage. We'd like to burn the rest that's left there."

"The firewood and fuel are already ready."

The boys carry the things upstairs and you follow them. When you arrive at Jori's apartment, you close the door behind you while Joris puts the box with Annika's things in a room and Charles walks towards the rooftop terrace. You open the door for him and he smiles gently at you as he walks past you towards the fire bowl, which already has some wood in it. 

A little later, Joris joins you, a small canister of gasoline in his hand. "You'll need this. Please don't burn yourselves. I've got a quick online meeting coming up and no time to drive you to the hospital." 

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that," says Charles as he takes the burning liquid from his buddy's hand. As Joris disappears, Charles pulls an outdoor couch sitting in a corner near the fire bowl. "In case it takes longer. Then we don't have to stand the whole time."

While Charles lights the wood, you take the garbage bag with the roses out of the box and put it next to the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

Charles looks up from the small flame snaking around one of the logs. "There should be cans of Coke in the fridge. And there should be some sweets in the cupboard in the living room." When you look at him in astonishment, he grins. "Go ahead and help yourself. Joris has already eaten my entire fridge once when he was drunk."

"Okay." You leave him alone on the roof terrace and go searching. You actually find the cans in the fridge, two of which you take and put on the living room table so you can rummage through the cupboard for something sweet. You find fruit gums, some chocolate - which you probably shouldn't bring anywhere near a fire - and a bucket of popcorn, which you tuck under your arm. 

When you return to Charles with your hands full, he laughs. 

"What?" you ask, confused, as he takes the bucket from you. "You told me to help myself. And that's what I did."

"That's right." He motions for you to sit down on the sofa. As he sits down next to you, he nudges his knee against yours. He opens his can of Coke and you do the same. "Here's to the future." He holds his can out to you.

You clink glasses with him. "To the future."

After a few minutes, the fire burns brightly and warms you on this beautiful winter evening and Charles pokes around in the wood with a poker, which apparently belongs to the fire bowl, before grabbing the box and placing it between you on the couch. The fact that there's this physical distance between you both bothers you more than it should. 

"Two years for nothing," Charles says as he pulls out the first picture. It shows him and Annika lying on the beach and smiling at the camera. He throws it into the fire. "For nothing, for absolutely nothing."

"Don't say that." You watch as the flames engulf the photo. "You learn from relationships. No matter how long they last."

He throws a piece of paper into the bowl. It looks like a concert ticket. "And what have I learned? How to be cheated on without realizing it? I definitely didn't need to learn that." His tone is cold.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. When you take your eyes off the fire and look at him, his features are soft. He looks hurt. You purse your lips. "How did you find out?"

"I caught them." As you stare at him open-mouthed, he shrugs. " I was actually planning on flying from race to race, but my gut told me to fly back home." He has to swallow. "When I walked through the front door, there were already shoes there that weren't mine. And when I walked towards the bedroom, I heard them."

You raise an eyebrow. "They were doing it in your bed?" No wonder he doesn't want to keep the bedding or the bed. 

He nods weakly and throws one of his shirts into the fire. "I knew exactly what was behind the door and yet it broke my heart when I actually saw it. It wasn't much, but enough to know that it could never have been that 'it's not what it looks like' thing."

You hand him two plane tickets, which he throws away without looking at them. "And then?"

"She wanted to talk to me, begged me to stay with her and said how sorry she was. But I didn't want to hear any of it. I just turned around and left. I couldn't look her in the eye."

"I can understand that," you answer him quietly. 

"I think if I had really loved her the way you do in relationships, I would have thrown her out of the apartment straight away. But when I left and created distance between us, I racked my brains as to why she did that. And it was all over the internet that a lot of people do it because they feel neglected by their partner and are looking for closeness with someone else."

"And that's why you felt so bad that you allowed her to continue living there?" He nods. Another couple of photos land in the flames and catch fire. "Did you know the man?"

He shakes his head in response. He fixates on a burning log as if he doesn't want to look at you. When he does, his gaze is full of the kind of pain and hatred you've only ever seen on his face once before. As you remember the situation, your heart breaks. For both of you. 

When you answer him, your voice is no louder than your breath. "It was Raphael."

Your stomach clenches so tightly that you feel like throwing up. That's how Charles knew where Raphael worked. Something you've forgotten until now. Something is pounding behind your eyes and it's only when a tear runs down your cheek that you realize you're crying. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Charles' voice is soft and through the veil of tears you see his hand twitch, as if he's struggling to take you in his arms and comfort you. But there's this stupid box between you. And you've never felt so lonely. 

"Y/N..."

"Don't," you say quietly and without thinking about it, you reach into the box between you, grab everything you can with one hand and throw it into the fire in front of you. You watch as Annika's face burns. You throw a second handful into the fire bowl. This time it's his jacket. "That bastard."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather kill them both."

A faint smile spreads across Charles' face. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Although I've thought about it before. But I'm afraid that I won't be able to drive my super-fast car if I'm behind bars."

"What if I take over for both of us?" 

"I think the prison clothes would look good on you, but the visiting hours are definitely a pain in the ass and I couldn't stand not seeing you every day," he says gently and reaches for the now empty box, which he now places on the floor next to the couch. Then he pulls you into his arms. And from now on, it's not the fire in front of you that warms you. 

You stare into the fire for a while, feeling Charles' arm around your waist and his cheek on the top of your head. "Are you going to tell me what's in that garbage bag?" 

"Oh." You straighten up, dumbfounded, and lean over the backrest to pick up the bin bag. As you turn back to Charles, his gaze quickly flickers back to your face. "This morning - after your mother visited - we were sitting together in the living room and you couldn't stop staring at the piano. But it wasn't the piano, was it?"

He shakes his head and as you untie the knot of the bag, he takes a peek inside. "I'd totally forgotten about that just now." 

"That's what I thought. That's why I brought them." You pull out the letters of roses and place them next to you on the couch before handing him the first one. While he throws the first rose into the fire, you open the bucket of popcorn and snuggle up to his side again. 

"Annika gave it to me for our second anniversary," he explains, before opening his mouth and looking at you expectantly. As you pop a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth, he grins at you. You ignore the fact that your fingers are tingling where they touched his lips: "I don't even like roses. I think they're too hackneyed and the most unimaginative thing you can give someone to show that you love them."

"So a gift without really making an effort," you continue his thought. "And what are your favorite flowers?"

When he looks at you, his gaze is warm and there's a sparkle in his eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. "Peonies."

You feel the warmth shoot into your cheeks and turn your gaze away from him. He throws more roses into the fire and you continue to pop popcorn into both of your mouths as the flowers burst into flames in front of you. You hope that this action is as cleansing for him as it is being said all over the internet. You hand him the second letter, which he can burn in peace, before standing up and taking his empty Coke can. "I guess you need a new one?" 

His grin is wide. "Yes, please."

You disappear into the kitchen, where you leave the can on the counter and take a new one from the fridge. As you go back to Charles, you bump into Joris, who is just coming out of one of the rooms. "How did your online meeting go?"

"Pretty good," he replies and walks past you into the kitchen to take another can from the fridge. You stop in the doorway. "It was just about familiarizing myself with my new job, which I start in the New Year."

"That's right," you reply and raise your eyebrows. "You said you'd been offered a job. Are you already looking forward to it?"

"Very much. I can hardly wait," he replies as you walk towards the living room. You can watch Charles through the window as he continues to set the roses on fire. "Was that your idea? With the whole burning thing?"

You nod. "Yes. I burned my ex-boyfriend's things too when I found out he'd cheated on me. Only I didn't have a big fire bowl."

"Then where did you do it?"

You shrug your shoulders. "In the kitchen sink."

Joris has to laugh before he nudges yours with his shoulder. "Your friendship is good for him. He's never opened up to anyone as quickly as he did with you. I'm starting to think I need to worry that you're taking my place as his best friend."

"Haha. You two have known each other for ages. I don't think I could ever get in the way, even if I wanted to." You have to smile. "But Charles is definitely my best friend. There's nothing I wouldn't want to share with him."

"It's nice to hear that you're good for each other." He smiles at you. 

"Do you want to come outside?" you ask him as you walk to the patio door. 

Joris waves you off. "You go and do your cleansing thing. But please don't burn down the sofa. That's sacred to me."

You stick your tongue out at him and grab the blanket hanging over the back of a chair before returning to Charles, who has now reached the last letter. You hand him the Coke and spread the blanket over your knees. The sun has set, but the fire in front of you is so bright that you have no problem seeing his beautiful face. 

"Do you think she would have cheated on me too if I had been a better boyfriend?" Charles asks quietly at one point, without looking at you. 

"I don't know."

He thinks for a moment. "She said that everything in my life revolves around Formula One. That I don't notice what's going on around me. And that I was never there for her like a boyfriend should be. And that she had to share me with the whole world." As he turns to you, you see tears glistening in his eyes. "You said you were sure there was someone out there for me who wouldn't find my job too hectic. Who will support me no matter how hard it gets."

You turn to him and put your hand to his cheek to make him look at you. A tear rolls down his cheek and you wipe it away with your thumb. "I have. And I mean it."

He licks his tongue over his lips. "You also said that there's a person out there for everyone. A soulmate with whom you can share everything. With whom you don't have to pretend and can be who you really are." You feel his arms wrap around your middle and before you know it, you're sitting in his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his neck so you can hold him tight. 

"So you think there's someone else out there for me? That I haven't missed my chance at love?" You feel his warm breath on your face and how much you want to kiss away the tears that escape his eyes. Take away all his pain. Show him how much he means to you. 

But now is not the right time. Someday. Maybe.

"I promise you that." 

You watch him throw the last rose into the fire. In an instant, the red blossoms catch fire, the stem begins to glow and before you know it, this last piece from a time Charles wants to forget at all costs disappears and turns to ash. 

His grip on you tightens. A sign for you to turn towards him. When you look at him, his cheeks are wet, but he doesn't look sad. The smile on his face is honest and genuine and so loving that you can't help but return it. 

He would love to put his hands on your face and kiss you until you can't breathe. To feel your lips on his, your skin on his and tell you how important you are to him. How much he craves you and that everything he feels for you goes beyond the limits of friendship. But the only thing he does is grab your hand with his and squeeze it twice. Maybe you'll understand. Understand why he always squeezes twice. 

The right time will come. Someday. Maybe. 

When you look at him, with tears in your eyes and a warmth that makes his heart stumble, he has to swallow. He's never been as grateful to anyone as he is to you. 

"I'm free."

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #Charles Leclerc fit #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Something New

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: SO many okay; sub Spencer, oral (m receiving), voyeurism & exhibitionism, fingering/masturbation, HEAVY breading kink, riding, choking, marking, they both got absolutely filthy mouths, a lil begging, cockwarming too- I think I got everything?? Mentions of alcohol as well

Genre: fluff & Smut

Summary: Meeting your boyfriend's friends leads to a few curious discoveries about him for both of you.

***

Your boyfriend is many things. A genius, a profiler, a professor- sometimes, a man with so much to say about pretty much everything, the love of your life- the list goes on. You've been dating Spencer Reid for about a year now and you really can't say you have anything to complain about. He's attentive and funny and thoughtful and kind, and even when work takes him away for days he still manages to make you feel just as loved from afar. Tonight Spencer's invited you out to meet all of his coworker friends. You've heard tons of stories but Spencer has been hesitant to introduce you to them. Not for any bad reasons- he's simply being greedy with your time. Well he was anyway, it seems the team has finally worn him down and you're joining everyone for drinks at a bar.

When you walk into the place, Spencer finds his friends quickly and pulls you close to him as he leads you to the group. Before anything can even be said by you or Spencer the table erupts into noise upon seeing you. There are compliments and whoops and it's hard to pick out any one thing that's being said by the group.

"Settle down guys." Spencer rolls his eyes. "This is my girlfriend y/n."

"It's nice to meet everyone! Spence talks about y'all all the time." You say.

"Well don't just stand there, sit, we have a million questions." One of the women at the table pulls you over to sit next to her.

"Garcia." Spencer sighs.

"Now we mostly use each other's last names, side effect of the job but I'm Penelope, that's Aaron Hotchner- but we all call him Hotch pretty much exclusively, Derek Morgan, JJ, Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi." She quickly intros the entirety of the table as Spencer slides into to booth across from you, next to Derek.

"It's so good to finally put names to faces. Considering how much time you spend together I thought he'd have more pictures of you guys but-"

"Interesting you say that because his desk at work is full of pictures of you." Derek muses.

"Dude." Spencer nudges him and you chuckle a bit as pink crawls up his neck slightly.

"His wallet has a photo of you as well." David muses.

"Rossi please." Spencer says.

"I keep lots of pictures of him at work too actually." You smile.

"You do?!" Spencer blinks at you.

"Of course I do. I take pictures all the time. Why does that surprise you?" You muse.

"Wait a minute do you have any pictures Spence would not want us to see?" Emily smirks.

"I'm absolutely positive I do." You nod.

"Oh I have got to see this." JJ says.

"Yeah y/n you have to share-"

"Y/n don't you dare." Spencer's eyes widen cutting Derek off.

"Oh come on Spencer you can't expect us not to want to know." Emily says.

"You can want whatever you'd like but you're not gonna get it." Spencer says.

"They aren't?" You tilt your head.

"Y/n, please." Spencer's eyes are pleading in a way that almost makes you want to tease him more. You of course have no intention of embarrassing him in front of his coworkers but the adorable look on his face tugs at your sadistic side. You hold his gaze for a moment before turning to the rest of the group with a smirk.

"Sorry guys, there are some things I like to keep to myself." You muse and everyone lets out playful sounds of frustration that you laugh at while Spencer settles in his seat.

"It's fine we'll simply separate them and get her to confess that way." Penelope stage whispers to the rest of the table.

"So, y/n, Spencer tells us you're a professor?" Aaron who apparently everyone calls Hotch says. He hasn't spoken much so far but he and Rossi watched the earlier chaos affectionately.

"I am, yes. We met when he was guest lecturing at the university where I work actually."

"Really? What subject do you teach?" JJ asks.

"Architecture and sometimes English."

"Sometimes English?" Derek quirks an eyebrow up at you.

"I'm primarily an architecture professor but I have an English degree as well so I'll teach an English class or two. Not every semester though, it really depends. I mostly fill in when an English professor is out." You shrug.

"That's so interesting. So how did you two actually meet? He refuses to tell us the story." Penelope asks.

"Really? Why Spence?" You look at him.

"I mean I'm not hiding it exactly-" Spencer mutters.

"You'll tell us won't you y/n?" Penelope nudges you.

"Well sure- I dunno how interesting you'll find the story but I'll tell it. He was leaving a lecture he was giving and I was conducting an- in class activity that sort of spilled into the hall as he was trying to leave. He's quite the curious boy so he asked what we were up to and then he left." You shrug.

"How did you manage to get her to go on a date with you if you didn't even try to get her attention?" Derek scoffs.

"This is why I didn't tell you the story." Spencer rolls his eyes.

"He sat in on one of my lectures the next week, at the end of which he spouted about 10 minutes' worth of information about the architecture of the building we were in." You chuckle.

"And that worked on you?" JJ muses.

"I'll admit it was strange- but I thought he was cute. I told him if he had any more obscure details about the university we could discuss it over coffee."

"So you made the first move." Derek says.

"Of course I did." You say.

"Alright! Can we please talk about something else?" Spencer grumbles.

"Come on Spence we're meeting your girlfriend for the first time you can't expect us to not have questions." Emily smiles.

"Do they have to be about the logistics of how we ended up together though?" Spencer rolls his eyes. You can't help but laugh watching him pout at his coworkers.

"I don't mind talking about it baby." You say.

"Yeah she doesn't mind baby." Derek chuckles. Spencer looks at you with a huff.

"Spence why don't you get something to drink for me hm?" You ask him.

"Anything specific?" Spencer stands at your request.

"You can pick just make it good." You say pulling him down to kiss him before he can walk to the bar. "If you wanna ask me questions Derek I'll answer them but my baby is off limits." You wink letting Spencer go get drinks.

"Fine, fine. Changing the subject." Derek smiles at you. By the time Spencer returns with drinks, you're in a completely different conversation with the rest of the table. You spend a couple of hours getting to know Spencer's friends and you'd like to think things go well. It seems like they like you, and you can say for sure that you like them. Of course, as the night goes on, the team lets alcohol loosen their lips. You, not being a big drinker have been nursing the one drink you had Spencer get you and Spencer doesn't drink more than you let him so you two are the most sober at the table, except Aaron who seems to be very mindful of his drinks. Somehow the table has gotten into making up outlandish things about other patrons of the busy bar you're in. A guy sipping whiskey is going through a breakup, a girl on the dancefloor is definitely going home with the guy she's dancing with, someone in a leather jacket 'definitely ties people up'. It seems like a game of who can make up the wildest story about strangers and you just chuckle as they play.

"I bet that lady has a man she puts on a leash." Penelope says of a woman sitting with a group of friends. That one makes you glance at Spencer to see him shift awkwardly.

"No way babygirl. That woman does not seem like the type." Derek shakes his head.

"I dunno I think it's possible. But like wouldn't she have him out with her?" Emily hums.

"Not necessarily. Even a mistress is allowed to have time without her-" Spencer's foot nudges yours before you can finish your thought. You don't think it's on purpose though, he seems to just be tense regarding the conversation.

"You speaking from experience there?" Derek asks you.

"Sorry Derek, that is classified." You smirk.

"Wait a minute what do y'all be getting up to?!" Derek's gaze turns to Spencer.

"Nothing." Spencer's response is sharp and you have to work hard not to giggle.

"Leave him alone Derek we haven't- there's no tales to tell there." You say. You doubt Spencer wants his friends to know those details of your relationship. Especially considering you haven't really explored that aspect of your relationship much. You've had a few conversations about it but you really haven't gone beyond making out and such.

"You're so sweet on our boy genius." JJ coos.

"Of course I am." You shrug.

"Wait what do you mean there's no tales to tell?" Penelope asks.

"I'm more interested in your knowledge of mistressing?" Emily shakes her head.

"Curious to get into that yourself Emily?" You ask.

"Maybe."

"Do you have tips y/n?" JJ asks.

"How did we get here?" You laugh. Drunk conversations are so funny.

"Well now you have to answer the question." Penelope says.

"Talk to your partner? I dunno everyone's different. You should find out what things they are comfortable with before you do anything really. Leashes are usually safe enough for beginners but a lot of the more interesting 'tips' would be- for more advanced stuff." You muse.

"Spencer you have got one interesting girl on your hands." Derek smirks smacking him lightly on the back.

"Please stop asking my girlfriend sex questions holy fuck." Spencer rubs his temple with a sigh.

"Aw but she seems like she knows so much." Penelope says.

"Another time ladies, I'll answer all your questions." You say.

"You will?"

"Absolutely. But I think you guys should maybe start sorting out your rides home. It's- getting pretty late and you've all been drinking." You say when you catch JJ yawning.

"Yeah I'd agree it's time to wind down, especially since this place closes soon and I hate to be the last one out." David hums.

"Do you all have rides home? Are you getting a cab or calling someone? Because you can't drive." You shake your head at the girls specifically.

"I'm fine to drive everyone home." Aaron tells you. "Will you and Spencer be good?" He asks.

"Oh yeah, we've each only had one drink. Either of us can drive." You shrug standing up. Spencer follows your lead and after him, everyone slides out of their seats. A few rounds of goodbyes later, you're on the way home, Spencer driving and both of you enjoying the quiet compared to the last few hours in a rowdy bar. Back at your apartment Spencer lets out a sigh as you both take off your shoes.

"Sorry about them." He mutters.

"What are you talking about? Your friends are great. Do you think it went badly?" You ask.

"No. No, I'm sure they love you. Maybe more than me now. I just meant- they can be a bit unpredictable when they get drunk so, sorry about the weird questions."

"Oh that? Spencer honey there are way worse things a group of profilers could ask me than if I'm a dominatrix." You scoff. "I'm pretty chill when it comes to discussing sex." You shrug walking further into your apartment. You wanna get out of this dress.

"Really?" Spencer follows after you,

"Yeah. Although- I take it you are way less comfortable with that sort of stuff?" You ask.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well- you seemed really tense earlier when they were asking me about the mistress stuff. I just figured." You say.

"Oh- that was nothing." He mutters.

"That- didn't seem like nothing. But we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You hum. There's a moment of quiet as you take off your jewelry.

"I don't think my imagination is that active." Spencer speaks again and you turn to look at him. "Not in like, a sad 'my creativity is dead' sort of way. I'm fairly creative. But having an eidetic memory just means my focus is on other things. You know, the information I've read or seen that I can use- usually for work. Of course, my imagination fairs pretty well too. I mean it works well enough that I can reconstruct crime scenes in my head and stuff so it does what I need it to do for work."

"Right." You nod with a frown. When Spencer doesn't continue after a minute you add, "I'm following you Spence but I have no idea where this is going." 

"You commented on me being tense earlier."

"Correct."

"It's because my imagination was entirely too active during that conversation." He mutters, almost like he doesn't want you to know.

"Are you- embarrassed because a sexual conversation made you think about your girlfriend sexually?" You try not to laugh because it's not that his embarrassment is funny to you it's just the circumstance of not wanting to admit he finds his partner hot.

"I had an erection at a table with all my friends because my girlfriend was talking about leashing people."

"Are you interested in wearing a leash Spence?" You smirk, leaning against your dresser.

"Don't- I'm not sure." He frowns.

"We can work our way up to it if you are baby. It's not like I'm planning to collar you tonight." You chuckle at his confused look.

"Do you like doing that?" He blinks at you.

"What? Putting collars on people? I mean only if they're into it." You shrug. Spencer takes a deep breath before he speaks again.

"This- is not helping." He says.

"Helping?" You look at him. His hands, which were balled up at his sides catch your attention when they instinctively cross in front of him.

"Wait a second-"

"Don't."

"Are you-"

"Y/n."

"You're still hard from earlier." You say.

"Of course I am. All I can think about is the image in my head of my girlfriend as a mistress." Spencer huffs out.

"Well, we can always replace that image in your head with the real thing." You offer.

"I- I don't- I've never had a mistress before. I don't know what to do." He frowns.

"We'll work our way up to more complex stuff. Tonight'll be simple, pick a safe word and let me do the thinking." You push off the dresser you'd been leaning against.

"A safe word? Uh- winter. Is that a good one?"

"As long as you can remember it, it's perfect baby." You pull him forward by his shirt to kiss him sweetly. Spencer melts against your lips, letting you guide him easily to sit on the bed. You straddle him as you deepen the kiss, your tongue slipping between his lips easily. Spencer seems content to let you have your way with him and you intend to take full advantage of that. Eventually, you pull away from him only to trail your lips to his neck. His mouth drops open with a soft moan as you cover his throat in red marks. You make quick work of the buttons on Spencer's shirt, kissing and marking your way across his chest as you strip him, enjoying the quiet whines he lets out.

"You look pretty covered in marks." You tell him, bringing your lips to his again with a hand at the back of his neck. You drag your nails down his abdomen until your fingers find his belt, undoing it and his pants before you stand up. Spencer's eyes are on you immediately with a confused look and a sound expressing his discontent. "Pants off baby." You tell him and he scrambles to tug them off quickly and settle himself back on the edge of the bed.

"Are you- do you plan to stay clothed?" He croaks uncertainly.

"For now, yes." You say kneeling in front of Spencer. His eyes widen as he watches you wrap your fingers around his erection. He hisses from the contact and gasps when you gently drag one finger along the length of him. Your tongue follows the path of your finger and his breath is coming out shaky by the time you fully put your lips around him. You slowly take as much of him into your mouth as you can fit relishing in the whimpers he fails to hold back. His hands grip the edge of the bed so tightly you think he may rip the sheets as you suck his dick greedily.

"Oh my- god." Spencer chokes out, body practically shaking from your ministrations. When his thighs start to tense you pull off of him entirely and he can't stop the frustrated whine that comes out.

"Sorry baby, but if you cum now you won't enjoy it as much when I ride you." You tell him as you stand up. You give Spencer a few moments to steady his harsh breathing before speaking again. "Undress me." You tell him, turning your back so he can unzip your dress. You hear him stand, feel one hand settle on your shoulder while the other tugs the zipper down, watch his hands slide the straps of your dress from your shoulders and once it hits the floor you step out of it and turn to face him. "Open your mouth." You tell him softly and when he does you slip two fingers between his lips that he immediately begins sucking on. You can feel the action in your abdomen and it takes a moment to get your next instruction out. "Panties off." You tell him. With your fingers still in his mouth his movements are a little awkward but he manages to get your panties off and only then do you pull your fingers out. You set yourself up on the bed pulling Spencer's attention, though he stays where he is. He follows directions very well you realize. Spencer watches intently as you take the fingers that were in his mouth and slide them between your folds. You make quite the show of touching yourself while he regards you, moaning and spreading your legs widely as you toy with your wet heat. You catch his hands open and close a number of times as your fingers disappear inside of you and you know he's dying to touch you.

"Y/n?" He forces out after several minutes of what must've been silent agony for him.

"Yes, Spencer?" You let your reply come out as whiny and breathy as you can muster, swimming in the pleasure you're bringing yourself.

"Am I- do you just want me to stand here?" He asks with a frown.

"What's the matter, baby? Not content just watching?" You ask somewhat tauntingly. "Did you want a taste?" You ask.

"Please." He breathes out. You pull your fingers from your center and hold them out to him. He comes to the edge of the bed, leaning down to take your fingers in his mouth. You allow him to lick the digits clean before you shove him down onto the bed on his back. He tries to sit up but you place a hand against his chest as you swing a leg over to straddle him.

"I'm going to ride you now, okay Spence?" You look down at him for any sign of hesitation but the look in his eyes gives no indication of it as he responds.

"Yes- please. Please ride me y/n." He says. You lift yourself enough to grab his dick and line it up with your entrance before sinking down onto him with a satisfied moan. You brace yourself with your hands on his chest and set a nice rhythm for yourself, bouncing on him relentlessly, spurred on by the endless string of sounds from his lips. A beautiful combination of whimpers and moans and expletives as he begs you not to stop.

"So, pretty. You look so pretty under me baby." You tell him placing fleeting kisses against his lips.

"God I love you. Fuck that feels amazing. Oh my- shit." You can practically see his brain malfunctioning as gets lost in the heat of your walls surrounding him. There's something so satisfying about reducing a genius who always has something to say to a collection of broken sentences and desperate moans.

"I love you too baby, love the feeling of you inside me. Letting me- letting me ride you like this, so good for me." You pant out.

"Y-Y/n I- oh fuck I'm close- I'm gonna cum. Wait you have to- please y/n s-slow down." Spencer's frantic attempt at warning you only makes you want to push him over more.

"I want you to cum Spencer." You tell him.

"W-what? L-like inside- inside you?"

"Yes baby. I want to feel you cum for me." You tell him. Spencer's eyes go unfocused for a moment as if processing your words, then his hands snap up to your waist, the first time he's touched you without being explicitly instructed to.

"You mean that?" He rasps, his hold on your hips tightening.

"Yes Spencer, I mean it." You say drawing your hand up his chest to wrap a hand around his throat. "So don't stop now baby." You add. Spencer lets out a pained groan and shifts his grip on you.

"You can't- can't say those things." He grunts as he sits up and thrusts his hips up into you. 

"Oh? And why's that Spence? Don't you want to cum inside me?" You mutter kissing and nipping at his collarbone as if there aren't enough marks on his skin.

"S-so fucking badly. Wanna fill you up til you're leaking. Wanna- fuck wanna get you pregnant- you'd make such a good mother to my children and god you'd look so good all swollen 'cuz of me." Spencer's barely aware of his own rambling at this point, but your ears prick at the turn his words have taken.

"What a dirty mouth you've got all of a sudden." You muse, your body thrumming from his words. "That's what you want Spence? Wanna fuck a baby into me? Go ahead puppy, breed me if you can." If he hadn't lost it before those words seem to snap something in him and his thrusts get sloppy, they're harder and faster but messy as he chases that end you've teased. "That's it baby- fuck me like you want to put a baby in there. Fill my pussy like a good puppy." Your breathing is ragged and your sentence is broken up by loud moans as Spencer puts all his strength into railing you, but you have no intentions of giving up control of the situation.

"G-god, please. Please. I'm so close." Spencer whines out. Your fingers slip between your bodies and a few tight circles against your clit have you tumbling over the edge.

"Cum for me Spence, lemme feel you fill me up baby." You breathe out the command as you ride the waves of your own orgasm and he's spilling into you moments later.

"Holy fucking hell." He eventually huffs out and you gently kiss his heated skin as you allow him a few minutes to come down from his release.

"How we feelin?" You whisper.

"Like lead and hydrogen at the same time." He mutters and you glance up in time to catch the confused frown on his face.

"You did very well with your responsibilities for tonight Spencer." You tell him.

"Is it- is it always so... intense?"

"Well that was- more intense than I expected it to be. Had no idea you'd have such a breeding kink." You chuckle a little.

"I- I'm sorry that was-"

"No need to apologize. I liked it." You shrug.

"You did?"

"Oh yeah- you're so nasty about it. It's sexy, even if you're not in charge." You say. When you shift to stand up, Spencer's arm wraps around you lazily.

"Don't." He mutters.

"We gotta get cleaned up baby."

"It can wait." He groans.

"If you insist." You smile gently. You didn't expect to go down this road with your boyfriend tonight. But you can't say you're disappointed with the outcome. You learned something new about your boy genius.

***

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff

[luveline]

What about Eddie comforting sunshine reader? Like she’s worried they’ll break up bc of how different they are

thank you for your request! —you worry that you and eddie are too different to last. he changes your mind. fem!reader, fluff + hurt/comfort, 1.3k

"Can I turn this?" Eddie asks. 

You look up from your nails as soon as you can, meeting Eddie's eyes before following his hand and gaze to the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah, 'course you can. I'll turn it back." 

Eddie nods appreciatively and turns your rearview to face him in the passenger seat. His van can't make big trips without blowing a gasket or springing a leak, leaving you behind the wheel of your slightly less dilapidated Escort for tonight's excursion. 

You tear your attention from him to put the brush back into your precariously balanced nail polish and crank down the window, airing out the fumes. Eddie hasn't complained about the smell. He complains about lots of things, but never you. 

That doesn't mean he isn't thinking those complaints, though.

The longer he goes without chastising you, the more you worry. Eventually, you're going to irritate him. You'll be too loud, too saccharine, too much. 

"Got your glitters?" he asks, pulling down the soft skin under his eye, eyeliner pencil poised at his waterline 

"What?" 

Eddie pencils eyeliner under his bottom lashes. "For your nails." 

You watch him draw a messy line. He knows what he wants and after a handful of seconds he's rubbing it out with his pinky fingertip and moving to his other eye. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asks. 

"What?" 

Eddie stops drawing on his eyeliner to look at you with fond puzzlement. "Is something wrong?" 

He looks casually cool in his way. Dark hair darker in the evening light, pale skin blown out and his eyes big and sugary. You look at him and feel melted by your affection for him, wanting to reach out and wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger teasingly, or pet the slope of his cheek with the back of your hand. 

Especially when he's asking you questions like that, delivered without any grandeur. 

"No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong with you?" You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. "I'm tired already. We need to stop making late night plans." 

"We could get a motel if you don't wanna drive again tonight." You don't see Eddie turn back to his make up, assuming he does when the weight of his gaze is alleviated, and his words come out distractedly slow, "I know that there's… something bothering you. Tell me what it is so I can kiss it better." 

"You'd like that, Munson," you tease. 

"I'd really like that. It would be the highlight of my night." 

There's a wooden plink of the pencil being dropped and the plastic sound of the glove compartment being opened and quickly closed. You spy through barely parted lashes as Eddie leans across the console, eyes widening to look down your nose while he draws ever closer. 

He kisses you quickly, misaligned but well-meaning. 

"Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it worth it," Eddie promises. He's flirting now, the cadence of his voice rougher, his brows lifting ever so slightly. "Is it something serious?" 

"Not really," you say, leaning back as his hand finds your hip, and his index finger slides under the hem of your t-shirt. 

He draws a ticklish circle. "You know I wanna hear it? Whatever it is…" His middle finger joins his index, then his whole hand is under your shirt and sliding across your naked stomach. 

You laugh and clamp a hand down on him. "It's stupid, and it'll sound stupider out loud." 

"Nice, I like stupid shit. If you don't tell me we'll just have to play hooky in your cold car all night and miss the show." He says it like that's more than alright in his book —he makes playing hooky sound like staying at the Ritz.

He pulls you as close to him as he can considering your impossible seats and brings his free hand to your neck. "If you tell me, I'll give you one of those massages you just hate," he offers quietly, the slightest dip of salaciousness all but smothered in concern. 

You won't torture him, even if admitting what's wrong will make you feel like you're standing naked by the side of the I-64. 

"Do you ever worry that me and you are too different?" you ask. 

"Too different?" he repeats, giving your hip a mindless squeeze. "I've never worried that, no." 

"Just 'cos, you're all– you like rock shows 'n' macabre movies. You hate the radio, you say that the colour yellow gives you a headache–" 

"I don't hate yellow." 

"You squint when I wear my yellow sweatshirt." 

Eddie nods severely. "Well, you figured us out. We should break up now, before we get any more serious." He lifts your chin with his thumb and guides your face to his for a kiss. "You don't mind rock shows," he says against your lips, tip of his thumb stroking a short, soft line. 

"I like 'em 'cos they make you happy." 

"That's why I don't hate the radio, either. I don't like half of the stuff they play, but I leave it on because I," —his lips move to the corner of your lips, dipping in for a kiss and then sitting back in his seat— "love to watch you." 

"What, when I do my Madonna impression?" you ask jokingly. 

Eddie's answering smile is far from joking. "I love all your impressions. I love everything you do, all that shit that makes us different are just reasons I like you. Your long stories, your magazine quizzes, your glittery nails. I really like your nails." 

"You do?" you ask. 

"It's nice when you ask me what colours to use, and you make a really cute face when you put the glitter on with a toothpick." He scrunches his eyes. "Like this." 

You laugh, startled. "That's me?" 

"That's you." Eddie brings both hands to your face and presses his thumbs to the apple of your cheeks. He turns your head gently from left to right. "Do you think we're too different?" 

"Kind of. What if you get tired of it, you know? What if one day you look over and you think, fuck, I wish the radio would just break already?" 

Eddie laughs with a giggle bordering ecstatic, a matching smile playing over his pretty mouth. "That's not going to happen!" he says through it, thumbs rubbing a steady back and forth into your cheeks. "I'm never going to look at you and think that. The only stuff I think about when I look at you is how I fucking worship you, baby." 

You turn your cheek indulgently into his hand, like the girls in the chick flicks with the handsome movie stars. He doesn't look like the average leading man, but all the things that disqualify him for pop movies are the things that drew you in —his unruly curls, his dark tattoos, the funny way he smirks like he's the only one who knows a scandalous secret. 

He smiles at you now like you know the secret too. 

"Let's stay different," Eddie says, hands falling to yours to give them a shake. "We only need one thing in common." 

You lean over the console. He's right, you decide, as his soft lips press against the seam of your own, encouraging you to part them gently. Your noses press together, Eddie's hand sliding up your forearm, that common thing sewn into each millimetre of movement and every second of his kiss. The only thing you need to be the same between you is how you feel about one another. 

Plus, he worships you? 

You hook an arm behind his head and pull him closer. Your twin smiles make it hard to kiss, but you keep trying.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[plasticferal]

hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #sturniolo triplets #damsel in distress