#just wants me to drop everything to comfort him

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader requested by multiple: doctor visit

The pediatrician's office is very bright.

Bright walls, bright furniture, bright toys. The hallway is painted a bright blue, dotted with wispy, spongey clouds, spiraling in patterns from floor to ceiling.

The exam room is not much better. It's yellow. Supposed to be soothing, you tell him. It's anything but.

The bright colors unsettle him, but he shoves it down. Swallows the gnawing anxiety brewing in the back of his mind, forces away the spiral attempting to swallow him whole. He falls back on what gives him comfort, what allows him to sleep at night, what makes him feel whole. The only one who doesn't make him feel torn to shreds. The one who can touch his bare skin without making him shake. You.

You're nervous too. It started when you got the baby undressed, and has only gone downhill from there. He can see it in the way you pace back and forth in the room, holding Ry to your chest, bouncing him, rubbing his back. There's dread scrawled into your expression, grim unease radiating from your bones.

"C'mere mama." He reaches, pulling your forearm and tugging you close, resting his chin on top of your head. You relax, but barely. "Everything's going to be alright."

"He hates shots."

"He's a baby, course he does. Can't blame 'im. Huh bub?" He strokes Orion's chubby and round cheek, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple.

Someone knocks on the door, and it creaks open.

"Hi!" A young woman in a white coat smiles at them, giving Simon an odd look before stepping forward. He swallows the acid burning the back of his throat.

"Hey, Dr. Marsh." You greet weakly, face pinched. She says hello, and washes her hands, keeping a stream of chatter until she's seated on a rolling stool with an iPad in her hand.

"How's our big man?"

"Still big." You quip drily, and she laughs, glancing up at Simon. You look at him too, and then your mouth drops into a little o. "Sorry, this is Simon. Orion's dad." She stands, extends her hand. He takes it, careful to not squeeze too tight before letting go and hanging his own rigidly by his side, tense, like he's priming for a fight of some kind.

"I guess we know where he gets his size from." Fingers tap across the screen, and then she sets it on the examination table. "So, how is it going?"

"Fine, good, I think. He's still feeding every three hours. I feel like he's gained ten pounds since our last visit." She nods. "I've been trying to pump as much as I can but... there's just... not as much."

"That can happen. If you're still happy with breastfeeding, I don't have any concerns. Of course, if you want to stop, that's more than okay. As long as he's getting what he needs, there's no wrong way to feed him." You nod, rubbing his back. Dr. Marsh asks about any other concerns, and after you say you have none, she reaches for him. "Let's see if our guy is still a ninety nine percenter, huh?" Simon frowns.

"Ninety nine percenter?"

"He's uh, in the ninety nine percentile. Very big."

"Very big, and very tall." Dr. Marsh says from over her shoulder, where she's now got Orion on the baby scale. "Born at what mum, four and a half kilograms?" Simon blanches. Bloody hell. You haven't really told him too much about the birth, and he hasn't pushed you on it. Maybe this is why. You don't have a c-section scar, and he winces thinking about you giving birth, naturally. He should have been there. Should have held your hand, told you how amazing you were. How strong. The familiar feeling of regret resurfaces, and he gives you an apologetic look. You shrug with a little smile.

"He looked like a giant in the nursery, next to all the... regular sized babies." Dr. Marsh laughs, but Simon grimaces. Guilt settles in his stomach like a rock.

"Sorry, mama." He apologizes sheepishly, squeezing your hand, and you rub your thumb over his knuckles.

"It's okay, I kinda," your eyes sweep over him from head to toe, "expected it."

"Alright, so," Dr. Marsh brings Ry back over, handing him to you, but Simon intervenes, pulling him into his arms. He worries about your back. She smiles again, types something into the tablet, and then clears her throat, "growth is slowing down."

"Is that bad?" You sound alarmed, and she shakes her head.

"Not bad, considering he's been outperforming in height and weight since he was born. This happens, it's normal, there's nothing to worry about. However, he's still in the nineties. Just shy of eight kilograms."

"What's normal?" He's curious now, wondering how big his son is really, compared to others. He'd even feel proud, if he wasn't worried about the trauma having him may have caused you.

"Fiftieth percentile is around six. Now," she rests her hands on her thighs, and levels a serious look at you. "How are you? Sleep getting any better? Are you keeping up on hydration?" Simon peeks down at you, lips tugged into a firm line.

"He still feeds every three hours, and I'm the source so... not really."

"Any more dizzy spells?" What? His head snaps your direction. Orion gurgles, and he pats his back absentmindedly. Dizzy spells? Why haven't you said anything?

"Uh, not really. Maybe a few."

"Breastfeeding can take a lot out of you. It uses a lot of metabolic energy, so try to make sure you're eating enough and drinking a lot of water. It's normal to feel exhausted or fatigued, but taking care of your nutritional needs will go a long way. I know I sound like a broken record but, I think it will help. You might also try talking to your OB, since you know... I'm only a little human doctor." You swallow.

"Okay." She gives you a serious look, and you nod.

"Alright then, let's move on to everyone's favorite part."

He holds Orion for the entirety of the rest of the visit. He squirms and screams as he gets his shots, crying at the top of his lungs, and Simon closes his eyes at one point to take a deep breath. He's okay. He's safe. They're both safe. They're here.

You take him afterward, lips to the top of his head, eyes closed as you whisper. "Shhh, I know baby, I know. It's over now. All done. You were so brave." Simon's heart aches. It hurts to know you're struggling, that you see yourself as a failure, when it's so blatant that you're anything but. He's going to fix that.

You stop at the reception desk, lingering until the girl behind it gets off the phone. "Um, can we update Orion's emergency contact list? I want his dad to be on there, too." Simon looks down at you, momentarily dumbstruck. Sweet, sweet girl. Sweet little kitten. The receptionist smiles brightly, taking the information he provides, phone number, back up phone number (work cell) and his name.

The two of you head towards the elevator, and you give him a hesitant look as you step inside. "You don't mind right? I didn't want to overstep but... you're his parent too, I thought you might want to be-" You don't get to finish before he's swooping down with a hand at the small of your back and another on the baby's head, slamming his lips to yours so fiercely your breath hitches.

"Mama," he kisses your forehead, and then cups your chin. "You and Orion are my family now. You're it for me, and I'm chuffed you'd think to put me down as an emergency contact." You jerk back at his words, eyes wide. Too much? Too soon? Too strong? He doesn't care. He needs to start easing you into it, getting you used to the new reality, before he's moving you and the baby out of your flat and giving you a new last name.

"Simon." You whisper, but he shakes his head.

"I told you. I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. You're everything. You're mine. You and our boy." You don't say anything, and the silence kills him until you reach for his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. "An' we're going to have a talk about you getting dizzy and not saying anything to me. Alright?" You gulp.

"Alright."

#grits teeth #these are getting longer #through me (the flood) #peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #unedited so mind the mistakes

[thetriumphantpanda]

put your sweet lips on my lips | joel miller

Summary | He won't ever kiss you, those are the rules, but you fall in love with him anyway.

Pairing | Boston QZ!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.3K

Warnings | This is basically porn without plot (do we expect anything less from me these days?) A sprinkling of angst, a stupid no kissing rule, fingering, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, biting during sex, mentions of breath play, Joel is kinda mean but also kinda soft, neck kisses, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | This was written for @janaispunk's 1.5K kisses celebration! I got Joel Miller with neck kisses and I immediately went, make it smutty and painful, so this is the result. The biggest congratulations to Jana for such an incredible milestone - you're such a shining star on this little corner of the internet and I'm so glad to know you! I hope you like my little way of celebrating you! Thank you for letting me be part of your celebration! I think this may be one of my favourite things I’ve written in a while so I hope you all agree and enjoy it!

Main Masterlist

“That’s it baby, just like that.”

His lips are right there, right against the shell of your ear, hot breath painting small drops of dew where it meets your hot skin. He’s got two fingers buried in your sopping cunt, the squelch of movement the only thing that fills the air if it’s not your moans or his grunts as he presses the thick bulge of his jeans against your ass.

It would be so easy. So easy, you think, to turn your head to the side and catch him by surprise. Let your mouth brush against his, hope that it sparked something between you, hope that it made him push his mouth harder to your own, that he’d let you taste his tongue for the first time since this all started.

He was clear from the start though, that first night, with his cock buried deep inside your pussy, throbbing inside you as he split you open, when you’d put your hand around the back of his neck and tried to drag him to your mouth. His eyes had darkened and his hand had flown to the bottom of your neck, gripping tight enough to warn, tight enough to thrill, to make your wet cunt even wetter as he growled at you.

“I don’t do that shit.”

And that was it. Acceptance between the two of you that this was just sex. Just fucking when you needed it, taking your frustrations out on each other. Nothing to blur the lines, to make you think it was anything more. Plump lips always taunting you when they spoke to you, or when he sunk his teeth into them when you took his entire length into your mouth and down your throat. Always right there and always just out of reach.

God knows how much you want to know what his mouth is like on the one part of your body they’ve never touched. He’s had that mouth latched around your clit as you shake for him, sucked your nippled into that warm cavern, left marks on your skin with his teeth, but never once let you feel them on your own.

You turn your head to him a little, his fingers curling inside you enough to make your pussy clench around them, his mouth right there. You know you could do it, but you’re scared of the consequence. Scared that he’d take everything else away from you, like a parent taking away an ice-cream from a screaming child. You’d be just as petulant if he did, because there’s something comforting about him, hard and closed as he is, but in this place, he is the only thing that doesn’t make you want to throw yourself out of a window.

“Come on baby,” He urges, snaking his other hand down your body so he’s teasing your aching clit now too, “Give it t’me and I’ll give you what you want.”

He rolls his finger across your swollen bud, circling and circling as the feeling in your stomach goes tighter and tighter until it snaps, all of a sudden. Cunt clenching around his fingers as your body shakes, head thrown back onto his shoulder as you come, gushing around his fingers. That’s when you feel it, the familiar warmth of his mouth, soft as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, and then up the side of your neck. He pulls his fingers from your cunt, drags them up your body as his mouth opens against the skin of your neck, tongue warm and wet as it licks at your skin, warm and wet like his fingers that have wiped the evidence of your want for him over your lower stomach.

Joel presses you forward, front of your body pressed to the back of the couch, eyes on the peeling, colourless wallpaper in front of you. He uses one of his knees to spread your legs wider, and though it might be obscene, you move in a way to show off, to bare your aching, drooling pussy to him and the empty room. You can hear him fumble with his belt and then the sound of him pulling his zipper down.

He gives no warning, he never does, just lines the blunt head of his cock to your fluttering hole and pushes in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he folds his body over yours, head of his cock pressed so deep you have no idea where he ends and you start.

His mouth is back on your neck, kissing sloppy to the skin, and it’s like he knows, like he could read your mind about what you want. When he sinks his teeth in and sucks, it’s like he’s saying he’s sorry. He’s sorry he can’t be the man you want him to be, that he can’t ever love you. And silently, as you hold his head there, fingers tangled in his hair, you say it’s okay, that you forgive him, as long as he never stops this.

As long as he never stops the perfect roll of his hips, skin slapping against skin as his cock sets a bruising pace. As long as he never stops the bruising grip on your hip, keeping you in place. As long as he never stops letting you feel his mouth on every inch of your body, it’s okay.

Joel is close, you can feel it in the way he’s faltering, so you think fuck it, what is there to lose.

“Please, Joel.”

It comes out like a whine, your head tipped back on his shoulder again, now he’s pulled you up, pressed you to his body. His hips go harder, like that’s what he thinks you want, so you card your fingers through his curls, damp with sweat, and you beg again, head tilted to the side, mouth right in his eyeline.

“Please Joel,” It’s pathetic really, “I’ll be good, I promise, just once.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Joel, I-”

“I said,” He begins, punctuating it with a particularly hard shove of his cock into your cunt, “No.”

He pushes your body forwards, takes the warmth of his body from yours in punishment for what you’d asked for. Both hands grip at your hips now, his grunts loud as he uses you, thrusts his throbbing cock in and out of you until the very last second, when he pulls himself from your tight heat and fists his cock. You can feel your cunt fluttering around nothing, so close to the edge again, and so far.

Joel comes with a growl, warm spatters of cum painting the round of your ass and the low of your back, his other hand holding you in places as he empties himself entirely across your skin. You expect this to go how it always does, with him pulling away, dressing himself and muttering some excuse to leave, but instead, you feel him come back to you, his front pressed to your back, surely making a mess of the front of his shirt as he does it.

His lips are by your ear, his breath fast and low, but then his lips press to the skin behind your ear, soft and gentle.

“I’m sorry.” He says, barely audible, even this close to your ear.

And then you feel it, the warmth of his lips against the bite mark on your neck. It’s the most gentle you think he’s ever been with you as his mouth pulls back a whisper, pressing against softly to the injured skin. Always there, and never your lips, but as he does it again, you think maybe it’s worse? Because just like it would be there if he kissed your lips, there’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach, and then you realise, it’s not the kiss the makes you fall in love, no matter where it’s placed, it’s the gentle that does it in the end.

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us smut #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #Joel Miller Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller tlou #Joel tlou #Joel Miller the last of us #Joel the last of us

[reiderwriter]

🫂 Transference 🫂

Pairing: Spencer Reid x virgin!Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: He saves your life, and he keeps saving it every day, but Spencer won't let you love him until you finally beg him to. Is transference really that much of an issue?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Mentions of Case details - reader is the unsub victim, mentions of rape and attempted rape, gunshot, death, kidnapping, imprisonment, parental neglect, abandonment, loss of virginity (positive), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), missionary, praise kink (good girl), moaning kink (?), safe sex, slight cum play/ oral, aftercare.

A/N: I wrote a virgin reader fic for kinktober that people loved a lot (thank you all!), and I had a lot of requests for something similar, so please - enjoy!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You'd met him at the library, as if the world wanted you to forever associate the comfort you found in between the pages of a worn book with the man that tried to end your life. At first, you'd thought it a coincidence, then he'd flashed a smile at you, and you'd believed it to be fate, drawn in by the charm he wore as a disguise. 

Your first date was sweet, flowers and dinner. Your second date was sweeter, and they kept on that way. Sugar dropped into your ears until you were floating on cloud nine, right as he turned his charm off. 

“Really?” He started one day, his tone accusing from the get-go. 

“What?” 

“You're really going to eye fuck that man in front of me?” His voice was loud enough to catch notice in the small café you'd joined him in for the morning, and all the life drained out of your face. 

“I'm not- what?”

“No, forget it,” he chuffed, taking another sip of his drink and turning away from you. 

You noticed it more and more from then on, how he would accuse you of small things like looking at other men, like you had the choice to ignore them when they were shop clerks, bus drivers and just fucking people living their lives. 

Your friends were even weirded out when you joked with them about it, telling them all about your silly boyfriend who ripped a poster off your wall because it had some actor or singer or something on it. It wasn't even that important to you, but as you laughed, you were greeted with silence, with sideways glances and concerning questions. 

It was all starting to crumble, and there was nothing you could do to stop it but cling on. 

The next thing was his pushiness. You'd been up front with him at the beginning of the relationship that you were a virgin, something that he was more than happy about. 

He'd said it was because he was a man of God, and he understood your commitment, which confused you as you weren't a virgin for religious reasons. But you brushed it off as everything else about him was so… gentlemanly? 

Until he started pushing his hands up your thighs when he kissed you. He tried multiple times to push his fingers into your underwear as you tried to pull back, each time apologizing immediately when you displayed more panicked displeasure. 

“I'm sorry, something must have… The devil got to me for a second there, Y/N, but I won't let him win.” He kissed the top of your head, and he walked you to your door before giving you another chaste kiss and leaving. 

They found the first body the next morning.

She was young, maybe 16 or 17. Beaten, raped, mutilated, and asphyxiated. They said he'd kept raping her body long after she'd taken her last breath. It took them two weeks to notify her parents because of the way he'd left her. 

You'd watched the news report the same week with your boyfriend, shocked and horrified at the news and cuddling closer to him for comfort. 

Each step you came closer to him, each time you allowed him to touch you, he took it as a sign of his ownership, his claim on you. Not a single other person could get in between him and his prize. Each time you rejected him, he killed another girl. 

By body five, they'd called in the BAU. 

“Did you hear they're bringing in the FBI to solve that Cathy Renaud case? It's all over the news. Apparently, the team is super special.” 

You'd brought up the words while cooking him breakfast. He didn't live with you, but any good girlfriend would feed their man, so he woke you up every day on his way to work to let you prepare him something. 

His whole attention was on his phone, though, as he nodded through your conversation, grunting and moaning at each word. 

It was only when you brought him his plate of pancakes that you realized that he was just as interested in the subject as you were. Because he was staring at the photos of the girl he mutilated the night before. 

You didn't want to think about everything that happened after that. After the plate fell to the floor and cracked, splintering into your foot and causing you your first injury in a long line. 

You didn't want to think about the things he showed you, the way he touched you, or at least tried to. You heaved and wretched and emptied your stomach every single time you thought about the restraints on your wrists, how he'd tried to rape you but couldn't bring himself to do it because you weren't young enough anymore. You weren't dead enough.  

Instead, every time you thought back to that week, you found yourself back at the end. You replayed the bullet lodging into his brain as a comfort, which told you more than you needed to know about your mental state. It was Spencer Reid who'd shot him. He'd been quick enough to realize that the man would never have been talked down, and he'd fired the shot as a mercy to you. He may have killed your boyfriend, putting him down like he was a sick animal, but you were the one put out of your misery. 

He didn't stop to watch the body hit the floor before falling to your side, the other agents clearing the room and checking the corpse. He'd helped you to your feet, drawn an arm around your waist and pushed your head into his chest so you didn't have to see the carnage on the way out, didn't have to deal with the camera flashes as the press scrambled for pictures of the monster's willing victim. 

“One step at a time, this isn't your fault. Just stick with me,” he said, moving you from the house to a waiting van as you clasped his vest desperately, needing the lifeline he'd thrown you. 

“Ma'am, ma'am. I'm a paramedic, I won't hurt you, I just need to take your vitals, make sure you're okay.” 

The voice was vague and in the distance, and you were so sure it wasn't directed at you that you simply let yourself wrap around the man who'd saved you when you got to the ambulance. Nothing else was around but his chest, his hand on your back, your legs wrapped around him as they finally gave out. 

“Ma'am… Please, you're injured-” 

“Y/N,” he spoke finally, and you grabbed him tighter, nails digging into the skin at his neck. 

“You're Y/N, right? We've been looking for you for a long time. I'm not going anywhere, I won't let anyone hurt you.” 

The words were enough to reassure you, pulling back slightly as the paramedics began working on you, but not enough for you to embrace their touch. You clambered away from the paramedic the moment you saw he was a man, close in build and coloring to the corpse in the building behind you. 

You screamed, you cried, you pounded at the doors as Spencer held to you him, letting the paramedics sedate you, rocking you to sleep on the step of the emergency vehicle.

He was by your bedside every time you woke up, too. It was funny seeing him there when you still didn't know his name. Your parents hadn't visited, too ashamed to be associated with the entire thing to even check in on you. 

He had himself assigned your emergency contact after six days of your parents not showing up. In all that time, he'd sat patiently by your side as you wailed and raged and went numb, and the cycle repeated itself in perpetuity. 

He was there, too, with a bag of clothes and a fresh start waiting for you when you were ready to be discharged. 

His team had since moved on to another criminal of the week, putting the lives lost behind them as they traipsed through more cases and corpses and killers. He was still there, though. Somehow. 

You were old enough to be able to discharge yourself from a hospital, old enough to not need a guardian to take care of you. Spencer stayed anyway, and you didn't bother asking why. 

“I don't want to leave the hospital,” you said, climbing back into the bed you'd forced yourself into for the last week. The same bed where the nurse had ran your rape kit even after you'd told her he'd never touched you like that, after you'd explained and denied and shouted to high hell that no-one had touched you like that and she sure as hell wasn't going to be the first. 

Spencer had put a stop to the traumatic experience when he'd returned with your coffee, always picking up something for you when he went out. 

The nurse had gripped and moaned and murmured an apology, and you knew you'd not been an easy patient, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it. 

That didn't mean you wanted to leave yet, though. 

“I can't leave, I have nowhere to live.”

“Y/N, you can't stay here forever.”

“Spencer, I can't go home. My apartment is a crime scene, I almost died there, and there are reporters posted there 247 waiting for me to come back. They think I'm evil, they-” 

“They think you're a victim,” he said calmly but firmly, cutting you off before you could spiral again. “Which you are. And you'll be a victim forever if you don't get out of that hospital bed and start moving on.” 

He dumped a bag on your bed, a bag you recognised as one of your own overnight bags from your apartment. He looked at you again, the question in his silence. 

Are you going to keep being his victim?

You huffed as you got out of your bed, throwing off the covers and standing in front of him. He didn't budge. 

“Well?” You asked, looking at him as he stood still, not moving even an inch. 

“Well, what?” He replied, eyebrows knitting. 

Instead of replying, you rolled your eyes and reached behind you to the ties in your hospital gown, opening it until you could pull it off your body before pulling out the clothes he'd left in the bag. 

You didn't glance at him again until you were fully naked, readying your underwear so you could pull it on. When you turned back to him, his gaze knocked the wind out of you. 

You'd stopped feeling like a woman the minute he'd carried out of that room. You were a child, a fragile doll, a specimen to be studied. For some of the nurses, you were an infection they could catch. 

Spencer Reid, against his better judgment, was looking at you like you were a woman. Like you were the object of his every desire. 

“S-Spencer…” you said suddenly feeling the shame and embarrassment of being naked suddenly in front of another person. You pulled the sweatshirt he'd packed you over your torso, covering all of your intimate areas as you stammered out your apology. 

“I- shit, I'm sorry-”

“I'll wait - I’ll wait outside. If you need anything you can… you can do whatever.” He said, dragging his eyes off of your body and letting them fall anywhere that you weren't. His eyes darted from the floor to the wall, to the air next to your head and finally to the door where he took himself out. 

You dressed in a hurry and followed him. 

“Spencer? Spencer, I'm ready,” you said, running down the hall to him and grabbing his arm, holding it for support and comfort, but mostly just to be close. 

Since waking up from that first sedation of many in those first few days, you hadn't been more than a few hours without having him hold you. 

His team had sent many warning looks watching you wrapped around him like a scared child, hiding behind him like a small, shaking dog. You hadn't seen a problem in it, truly clinging to him like a lifeline. 

After whatever the hell had just happened in your hospital room, though? Now you felt each solid ridge of him. You hadn't felt like a woman, sure  but you equally hadn't acknowledged Spencer as a man until then. A very attractive man. 

The stubble on his jaw only made it sharper. His gentle, curving eyes, cut at the corners by the start of laugh lines, his mouth straight and… and kissable. For the first time in months, definitely for the first time since you'd met your monster, maybe even for the first time ever, desire heated the depths of your stomach. 

Your breath hitched, and you held him tighter as he led you out of the ward and ushered you into your new life. 

“We're not going to your apartment. Your landlord released you from the lease for…obvious reasons after some persuading. Your parents-” 

“My parents?” You asked in disgusting, halting in the hall. For the first time since you'd left the room, he had to turn and look you in the eyes. He'd done his best to dampen the desire, but some part of you still recognised it, even as your logical brain fought to be heard. 

“Your parents agreed to fund three months in a new apartment. After which time, you will have a job and some stability, so you'll be able to pay for it yourself.”

You tried to argue and tried to talk back, but your tongue was thick. 

A new apartment. Living alone, being alone, for any amount of time, felt daunting. 

But Spencer took one more step towards the door and then another, and you had no choice but to walk with him, hand slipping down and grasping his like it was your lifeline. 

The drive to whatever new apartment your parents had leased for you was silent, and the storms in your head grew until they'd taken up so much space they erupted forth, darkening the actual skies. A crash of thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance just as he pulled into the building. Luckily for you, there was underground parking, so you didn't even need to contemplate letting the lightning hit you. 

There was one space left, and Spencer pulled his car in, flipping the engine off and getting out without another word. 

He led you up the stairs, then he led you to your floor, then he led you to your door and handed you the keys. 

You felt cold as you opened the doors, knowing you were about to confront items of boxes that had watched you be burned, cut, slapped, beaten.

There were no boxes behind the door. Everything had, to your shock, been unboxed and staged already. 

You recognised magnets on the fridge, stuffed animals on the bed when you made your way to your bedroom. Your toiletries were neatly tidied into your medicine cabinet, hell, even your bookshelves had your own dog-eared copies of books well past their prime. 

You had every comfort and joy without having to push yourself through the pain of thinking about where these items had last been kept. 

There were new things too. The couch was definitely second-hand, but it wasn't the one you'd brought at Goodwill the week after your college graduation. That one was stained red, no doubt, somewhere in a tip. There was bedding and sheets and blankets and plates and forks and knives - a whole household of items that someone had chosen. 

You turned back to Spencer and cried. You buried your face in his chest and wrapped yourself around him again as he held you. 

And then, realizing he'd been the one to orchestrate this, if not the one who had arranged everything himself, you pushed up on the balls of your feet, and you kissed him. 

For the few seconds it lasted, it was brilliance. The pressure on your lips after a second had your heart singing as he kissed you back, your hands balling into his shirt as you stepped closer and closer, needing to be wrapped around him, buried in safety and warmth. 

He pulled back and stepped out of your reach too quickly, the back of his hand reaching up to his mouth as if checking that it was still there, that he'd actually just been kissing you back. 

“Y/N, you don't…we can't do that.” 

“Do what?” You said, creeping forward, needing to feel him beside you again. 

“You're not… you don't feel about me the way you think you feel about me,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear as you wrapped your arms around his waist again. 

“How do I feel?” 

“Grateful. Y/N, this is gratitude. I saved you, and so you think you are in love with me. It's called transference, and you will deeply, deeply regret this one day.” 

The urgency in his tone had you flinching, even if he was trying to talk to you as softly as possible. For a moment, you'd done as he'd asked and forgotten you were a victim. It was apparently something he himself would not forget anytime soon.

You stood around awkwardly for another minute or two. 

“What…what now?” You asked, avoiding the kiss and whatever lay in that direction.

“I'll walk you through the emergency contact numbers. The apartment building is pretty old, so there's a wall phone in the kitchen, but there are some modern amenities, too. The laundry room is on the first floor, next to the porters office. I'm in apartment 23 on the second floor, and-” 

“What?” Your entire body buzzed, hearing him speak, and you almost forgot to breathe, rushing to stand straight again.

“I… I live on the floor below,” he said, almost cautiously now that you'd thrown yourself at him. “I thought you might enjoy the company.”

He gave you a weak smile and you wanted to kiss him all over again, to press your lips again and again into the soft flesh of his skin, his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his neck, his chest. 

You wanted him to hold you. You stood by the sofa and let your grip on a cushion tighten to stop from throwing yourself at him again. One rejection was enough for the day. 

Not that you stopped in the weeks to come. 

Spencer had himself relegated to office work for the first month as you rode out the waves of your grief, sticking by his side for comfort.

Your friends came and went, but they wore the stench of ‘I told you so’ and ‘I saw that coming,’ and you suffocated on it after so long. 

Every day after he returned home, you arrived at him door and threw yourself into his open arms, sitting with him for hours. Most days, you read together, ignoring that the man flipped pages three times as fast as you did. Some nights, you watched shows or movies, making your way through three companions worth of “New Who” in a week.

Each time you came, he took care of your food, ordering or cooking simple pasta dishes for you. 

He told you about the time his coworker had taught him how to make the perfect pasta, berating him for putting oil in his pasta water, and damn near drawing his weapon while he made sure he salted it. 

You laughed together and ate together, and you forgot together. 

Your life was back to normal when you got your first job interview. It's nothing spectacular, but it was enough that it would pay the bills to the apartment whose lease is a ticking bomb counting down to 0. It was a normal office, where you would be doing normal work that you had absolutely done before. 

The interview was normal, the female employee that meets you first reassuring you that the company is safe, their employees vetted and supported. 

And the company makes feminine hygiene products anyway, so they don't attract too many men, or at least none like the monster you'd known. 

All in all, the interview went well. 

It went well all the way until you reached the bus stop. You felt eyes on you, watching your movements, but you couldn't see anyone else focusing on you particularly.

You felt the stares on the bus, and the stares when you got off the bus two stops early. You felt the stares walking around the block three times to throw whatever was following you around off your track. You felt the stares as you sat outside Spencer's apartment until 6:45pm, when he came home and found you there. Your interview had been at 1pm.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” He said, immediately holding you and guiding you into the apartment. 

Your anxiety and fear had settled into self-loathing and disappointment. You let him hold you quietly, rejecting food and conversation. 

You sat quietly with him on his sofa as he held a book in one hand, stroking your hair with another as you laid on his chest. 

The emotions of the day were overwhelming, consuming the part of your brain that had started being happy again for the first time. You grew angry at the sadness for seeping back in, and in an act of rebellion, you pushed back up and kissed Spencer once more. 

His brain was slower to react this time, even if his body wasn't. 

You straddled his hips as your lips joined his, melting together in a hot embrace. He dropped his book quickly, hand resting on your hip as the one that had been stroking your hair angled your jaw up so he could set the pace. 

All your emotions were swept away in a wave of desire as you slowly rubbed against him, butt shifting as you clumsily followed your arousal past your worldly knowledge. 

You couldn't even think about what was next because your tongue was clashing with Spencer's, and your brain was short circuiting. 

The second you let out your first whimper of pleasure, he pushed you away and stood up, crossing the room to put distance between you, just as he had a month beforr. 

“Y/N, you had a bad day, but this isn't… This isn't how you should make yourself feel better.” 

“Spencer-” 

“I told you about transference before, Y/N, you need to listen to me. I'm not… I'm not the one for you.” His voice shook as he ran his hands through his hair in stress, body tense in a way that informed you he was holding himself back. 

“Transference. Transference…” You sat upright on his couch and let all the logic rush back into your brain at once. 

“Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as he watched you zone out of the conversation, almost afraid that he'd damaged you again. 

“Is there… Is there something wrong with transference?” You asked, voice impossibly calm as you still stared straight forward. 

He moved towards you again and knelt at the floor in front of you, clutching your hands in his. 

“Y/N, you don't really want me like that, you don't, you can't-”

“Love you?” You asked, your voice finally breaking, eyes finally meeting his.

It was as if you knocked the wind out of him. He sat there completely dumbstruck. 

“It might not be love, okay, I'll admit that. But you're… you're strong and smart, and you take care of me. And you're attractive, and you make me happy, which is something I didn't think I'd ever be again-” 

“Y/N, something happened to you today, and you threw yourself at me. You threw yourself at me when you moved into your apartment. You felt stressed, and you reacted, Y/N. You don't love me.”

You sat calmly listening to his words again, your body still aching for his touch, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

“Okay. Okay. So if I do…this when I'm not feeling vulnerable, then what? Then you'll believe me?” 

“Y/N…” he sighed in defeat, hand again raking through his hair. 

You grabbed your things and stood up off the couch, bending to press another kiss to his lips before you parted. 

He was shocked silent, but that didn't stop him from chasing your lips as you rose, rising to his knees and then his feet as you walked away from him.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer. Get some sleep,” you said, letting yourself out or the apartment and carrying yourself, heavy and dejected, upstairs. 

If Spencer was anticipating seeing you again the next morning, he wasn't anticipating seeing you in his office.

“Spencer,” you called out as you walked into the bullpen, clipping your visitors badge into place again, making sure it wasn't crooked.

Immediately, he stood from his desk and rose to meet you, ignoring the looks from his coworkers as his hands landed on your arms, immediately checking on you. 

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispered, checking for tears, or injuries, or something to show him your motive for seeking him out. 

You just smiled at him, brushing a hair behind your ear when you saw him hesitate making that same gesture. 

“I was summoned. They need my statement to corroborate your weapon discharge paperwork, and Agent Hotchner called earlier.” 

His hands dropped as he breathed a steady sigh of relief, trying to make his reaction smaller than he knew it was. He was afraid something had happened to you again, and he was so caught up in his relief, that he didn't notice you moving closer until your lips were on his cheek and you were waving him off as you ascended the stairs to Hotch's office with your escort. 

“Spencer,” Morgan's voice called from behind him, and he turned hesitantly. 

“What was that?” 

He felt the eyes on him, and he pushed all thoughts of you to the side in place of total rationality. 

“I explained transference to her but… she doesn't seem to - she doesn't care.” 

“Spencer the last time I saw that girl, she was practically the walking dead. She just smiled.” Morgan said, shaking his head. But Spencer was watching you, and not his friend, and really, he wasn't even listening.

“Spencer? Spencer?” Morgan said again, rising to get in the man's face some more until he finally looked at him again. 

“She thinks she's in love with me.” 

“How do you know she isn't?” 

You kept working on him, little by little, day by day, until Spencer's field work started again. 

A little part of you was sad that he wouldn't always be around every day anymore. But you'd got that job and got over yourself as you started going out more. You made friends at your office, and you went out and laughed and joked with old college roommates. You felt like a human being again, and to no one's surprise, you still wanted Spencer Reid. 

He left every Monday on a case, and by the time Wednesday rolled around, you missed him. Going out to drinks with some coworkers after clocking off certainly didn't sate your appetite for him. 

“Spencer,” you said, breathily into the phone when he picked up, throwing yourself onto your bed. 

“Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright? Do you need me to come back?”

“No, Spencer, I just-” you hiccupped and giggled before continuing. “I just missed you so much.” 

The silence on the line was suddenly so funny to you, and you giggled again. Feeling hot, you stripped down to your underwear and started talking again. 

“I miss cuddling up to you and crawling all over you. You're really soft, you know?” You sighed, hands trailing up and down your stomach lightly. 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone. 

“I miss your face. I'm switching to video call,” you announced and fumbled with your phone. 

“No, Y/N, wait-” he said, but pulling the phone away from his ears, he realized his protests were too late to matter as he took in your half-naked form. 

Though your face took up the majority of the view on the camera, he could see the soft trim of your lace bra poking into the camera, and the generous push of cleavage your angle facilitated to boot. 

Checking around him for people looking, he tucked himself into a corner and scowled back at you. 

“Y/N, this isn't a game. Turn the call off and go to bed.” 

“But I miss you,” you whined. 

“Y/N,” he hissed, eyes falling to your hands where you'd begun massaging your heavy breasts. 

“When are you coming home?” You asked, whining again like a petulant child as the alcohol flushed through your system, bringing all of your desires to the forefront. 

“Soon,” he said, not trusting himself to say more than a word. 

“Good. Because I miss you. Spencer, I- I think I want to have sex with you.” 

His eyes shut as he tried to remain calm even as your words rang in his ears from 1000 miles away.

“We'll talk soon, Y/N. Good night,” he closed, finally hanging up and covering his face in his hands. He made his way quickly to his motel room, threw his phone down on his bed, and ignored as best he could his throbbing cock in his pants and the three pictures you'd sent him since he hung up. 

He didn't resist for long. 

Three nights later, you found yourself at a bar, living life to the fullest. You'd taken back to society like a swan to water, and you weren't letting the stern words of Spencer Reid keep you down. Knocking back another shot, you smiled and cheered with your friends until you felt the eyes on you again. It was different this time, though, hotter, and closer. You turned to look at the door and saw Spencer Reid and the other people who'd saved your life walking to a booth. It was Spencer's eyes on you. 

You definitely did not believe in a higher power - how could you, after all - but you did believe that this was fate. 

You blew him a kiss as he watched you walk back to your table with another cocktail in hand, letting a man who'd been trying to flirt with you earlier follow you to your friends. 

When you went for your next drink, you found him at your side in a heartbeat. 

“I'm not checking up on you,” he said, even though he was. “I'm ordering a drink.” 

“Two drinks,” you said, shooting him a flirty smile as you pressed yourself against him again, chest to chest. 

“You're ordering two drinks, Spencer,” you whispered into his ears as his head dropped down to within an inch of your own. The air felt changed, but you refused to move to close the gap. You'd put in the work the last few times. You needed Spencer to be the one to take the chance this time. 

He ordered your drinks, and still you didn't move apart, huddled together as if you were whispering conspiracies to one another. 

When your drink was firmly in your hand, he grabbed your wrist and led you to a dark corner of the bar. You sipped your drink quickly, managing two swigs before he took it and placed both drinks down - right beside Penelope Garcia - and dragged you out into the hall. 

The bathrooms were empty when he pushed you inside, and your heart throbbed as his hands pushed you into a stall, lifted your legs to wrap around him, and then his lips finally crashed into yours. 

Transference or whatever else it was supposed to be, you didn't give one shit in that moment as his tongue coaxed your lips apart.

His hands didn't stay in place for long as he dragged them up and down your body, exploring every part he'd memorized from the pictures. Every curve or inch he'd previously held tenderly, gently, he now raked over with the hunger of arousal, pushing your short skirt up until it was past your hips and his fingers could sink into you instead. 

You were soaked before he even had one digit inside you, his thumb rubbing roughly against your clit as you turned to jelly in his hands. 

You'd masturbated before, sure, you were a grown woman. But the feeling of someone else's hands, someone else's hest, the knowledge that someone else desired you so badly that they'd drag you into a bar bathroom just to sate their lust? That was new, and it was exciting. 

His lips covered yours as your legs shook, silencing every moan, every whimper with his tongue. It was wild, messy, your tongues clashing wildly and messily as your hips rocked violently, trying to reach that high, but also trying to make this last past his fingers. 

It wasn't to be though as you shuddered around his three digits, your orgasm ripping through you silently, leaving you wide-eyed and wide mouthed. 

“We're done,” he said, gently kissing your cheek as be stood you up, letting you stretch out the soreness in your muscles. 

“For now?” 

“Forever, Y/N. This was a mistake.”

Your heart hit the ground, and he stomped on it, but the anger filling your gut pushed up and out before he could completely bow out. 

“No,” you ground out through gritted teeth. 

“Y/N, you aren't in love with me. You feel grateful that I saved you, you feel attracted to me because I'm older and you think I can protect you, and a little part of it is that you've always been attracted to men who are dangerous. You're not in love with me, so-” 

“You sound like him.”

Shocked, he paused, and his grip on your hips tightened until his nails were biting into your skin. 

“What?” 

“You're telling me how to feel, you're telling me what to do. You sound like him.” 

“Y/N, that is unfair-” 

“Unfair is denying that I'd know how I'm fucking feeling to let you wallow in self sacrifice, Spencer. Unfair is playing the martyr when we can both see that you want this as fucking badly as I do.” 

You didn't give him a second longer to react, but grabbed him by the wrist and, making sure your skirt was once again in place, pulled him back out of the bathroom and into the club. 

Stopping by Penelope, you put his drink in his hand and grabbed yours, downing it quickly. He followed your actions, taking a sip until you were done and slamming your drink back on the table. 

Then you kept him moving, pushing doors open, hailing a cab, and climbing in with him hot on your heels.

You kept your grip on him tight until you'd marched him to his apartment. Releasing him, you flattened your back against his door, letting him slowly unlock the door as you spoke to him again finally.

“Do it, Spencer. Be my first.” 

It was like he was a different man walking over that threshold. His hand were on your face, his tongue again fighting yours as you stumbled back into the apartment, crashing into the wall, then the coffee table, and then the couch. 

You cursed in anger hitting his closed bedroom door and pushed him away to open it yourself, but his arms wrapped around you from the back and he sucked bruises against your neck as his hands grabbed your breasts and squeezed them.

His cock was rigid in his pants, and your body ached for the unknown, the soon to come pleasure that he was to deliver. 

He pushed you down onto the bed quickly, and you rolled yourself over, pulling your own dress off as quickly as possible. 

“That's my job,” he moaned, meeting your lips again as his hands fell to your underwear once again. 

“You have a long to-do list, Spencer, I'm just helping,” you smirked as he kissed you again, your hands shakily working down each button of his shirt as you acted to tear it off of him. 

“We have all night,” he replied, fingers once again rubbing at your bundle of nerves, hips pushing up and into his hands. 

“No, Spencer. No, we don't. I need you now.” 

His mouth covered yours again as you finally, finally got his shirt off, letting him throw it to the floor as you started working on his belt. Your legs spread as he inched closer, sitting between your thighs comfortably as he waited with bated breath for you to finally touch his cock.  

You knew what dicks looked like, you knew what they were supposed to feel like, but you never realised you'd want to touch one so fucking badly until his sprung from his pants. 

He took your hand and spit in it before you wrapped your fingers around him and felt the heat of his cock pulsing against you. 

He was big, long more than girthy, and you wondered how thousands of years of women had managed to survive coupling if this was the weapon meant to numb them into horny submission. 

One stroke, and you were a mess, his fingers hooking into you as you flicked your wrist up and down. 

You watched his precum rise and swiped it up in one finger, tasting it as he groaned and started thrusting up, fucking your hand as he scissored his fingers inside of you. 

He stretched you out, readying you for his thick cock, and you gladly sat there, letting him use you and ready you all at once. 

When you were ready, he wrapped his arms around you again, lifting you onto the bed properly and laying you down softly in the sheets. Kneeling to roll on the condom he'd grabbed from his bedside table, you watched in curiosity as you tried to memorize every movement, every second of him sinking into you. 

The tears in your eyes were emotion just as much as pain, your heart hammering in your ears as he whispered praise into your ear, dropping confessions like bombs. 

“You're taking me so well, Y/N, that's good…” he moaned, pushing in one inch. 

“That's it, Y/N, just a little more. I love you, you can do it,” he said, sinking in two more. 

“You feel so good, Y/N, made just for me,” he said as he finally hit your limit. 

You knew the stretch wasn't the end, and he rested there for a second, letting you get used to him before you lost patience with him. 

“Spencer just, just push through,” you grit out, and he did, snapping his hips up just that.inch or two more and sending that spark of pain through you. 

In an instant, his lips were on yours, his fingers on your clit, flooding your nerves with pleasure as all you could think of was the pain. 

But when the pain faded, there was still him, and his cock neatly sheathed inside of you. 

His hips moved languidly at first, his entire body weight pushing down on you, lazily twisting and writhing as of this were just one of your cuddles on the couch. 

You whimpered, and he moved faster, and you learnt quickly that your noises and sighs to him were what his praise was to you - motivation.

You moaned, and he picked up his pace, moving faster as you whimpered a lustful ‘yes’ into his ear. 

“Good girl, good girl, Y/N, that's it. Good girl,” he repeated, unable to say more as you whimpered and cried under him, speech lost as he split you in half with his dick.

You grew louder, and his cock buried itself deeper, your moans dragged on longer and he picked up speed. 

He whispered that you were his perfect little slut, and you jolted in his arms, cumming on his cock and screaming his name. 

He kept pumping into you, careful to make sure the condom stayed in place as he finally bottomed out and let pleasure roll through him again.

Coming down from his high, your tongue pushed into his mouth, and you rolled him over, sitting yp on his dick as he watched. 

You rose off his cock, letting him stare in wonder as your own arousal dripped off of your skin, his cock coated in arousal, and spit from his fingers and, yes, a little bit of blood. 

You crawled back and peeled off the condom, tying It quickly and discarding it before you tasted his cum quickly. 

It was just a soft lick, but it had him declaring his love for you again, and you decided that there were very few things you wouldn't do to hear those words. 

As delightful as your lips felt, though, he quickly bundled you up and forced you to the bathroom, turning on the taps in the bath and placing you on the toilet before leaving. 

Even now, after everything, he was still taking care of you. Maybe especially now. 

You finished, and he came back. More stolen kisses and moans and a bath that turned into more later, and you found yourself bundled into his spare clothes and wrapped in his arms on his couch again. 

He clicked play on another episode of Doctor Who (you'd finally reached Donna, and he was excitedly introducing you to the new character), and you finally looked up at him again.

“I love you,” you said again, loudly this time, with no fear. 

Though his training told him the response he should give, Spencer just looked down at you again and gave in to his heart. 

“I love you, too.” 

You fell asleep quickly after that, head resting over his heart, the sound of the steady beats lulling you to sleep. 

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #reiderslibrary #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #cm writing challenge #spencer reid cm #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 03 // part of this plot // mlist

i swear it was just supposed to be a drabble w no plot

jo heaves a sigh the moment you slide in front of her, and you would have been insulted if it wasn't for the gentle smile she gives right after. still, she's staring at you with that teasing tilt of her lips and her eyes narrowed in humour, one that you're not privy to.

"what?" you finally bite out, fiddling with your iced coffee, feeling self-conscious.

you fleet your eyes to yourself and, yeah, sure you're wearing the same pants as yesterday’s but c'mon? you didn't get to go back to your place after, well...

at least you didn't repeat your top, and is instead wearing a sweater you've stolen from simon's closet. cashmere, cream and soft, and the material comfortable, if not a little bit loose in the arms that droop past your fingers.

you thought you at least looked like those typical college students in the movies—effortlessly chic in a boyfriend sweater, if not a little haggard because who is not when in university?

she finally chuckles, the thrum of her voice easing up the frown that tugged your brows together. “don’t sweat it, superstar. it’s just that i’m still not used to seeing you be a sugar baby.”

you choke mid-sip, her words devouring you like an angry tide. you feel your eyes water in protest, the feeling burning as you sputter.

“i’m not–!”

“you’re not what?” tim asks, sliding into the seat beside yours.

you grumble, wagging a finger as you wipe your stained chin with your other hand. jo snorts and fills him in, chuckling all the while as she gestures at your sweater because she knows it couldn’t possibly have been yours.

tim’s smile turns cheeky, teasing, and he wiggles his brows at you.

“shut up, oh my god,” you whine, rolling your eyes at them, almost shyly, and you feel your cheeks warming. “i’m not– simon’s not my–”

“oh c’mon, babe,” jo says, playfully throwing her mechanical pencil at you. you huff before chucking it back at her, giggling to yourself when it bounces off her arm and rolls into the floor.

tim picks it up for her.

“he buys you expensive things—” her eyes flit to the new promise ring that you’re wearing. you unconsciously hide it behind your palm. “and pays for your tuition which i’m so, so jealous of.”

“doesn’t he fly you around too? in a private jet or something?” tim pipes up, shamelessly snagging away your iced coffee now that you’re too preoccupied to drink it.

“he doesn’t!”

twin brows quirk up in silent judgement.

“…he buys us first class tickets, not, like, a whole jet.”

see? they seemed to say with the way they cock their heads to the side.

you sniff. “it’s for work,” you mumble, remembering the first time simon flew you for his games.

“i mean, for him, maybe. but you? tell me what business do you have in winnipeg?” tim chirps and you almost want to jump him just to make him shut up.

“sugar baby,” jo finishes, singing. “but i mean, who can blame him, huh?” she grins, her voice dipping into a faux southern accent. “i’d spoil you too, sugar.”

“oh, you flirt,” you trill, taking the opening she offers to change the topic.

tim takes the bait and whines about how jo doesn’t do all those things for him, but jo is unmoved, eyeing you knowingly, but thankfully drops it too.

it’s just—

there’s a whole stigma to athlete’s girlfriends. for god’s sake, they even have a whole label—puck bunny—which is honestly just a dig made up by really shitty men who burn with jealousy . and you know that, but—

you can’t help but wonder if some, not all, of simon’s love for you is because of what you do to him. of what you give him in return. especially since he’s so busy all the time, either flying during the season and is rarely home, or packed with training and other physical regimen during the offseason.

so you wonder if this—flying you with him on the days the official WAGs are not being flown by the franchise, bringing you to vacation spots on the other side of the ocean, buying you everything you used to only dream of ever having—was his way of paying you back for your support and patience and care and love.

tim knocks his shoulder with yours, worry now lining his boyishly charming face.

“y’alright?”

“of course.” you lick your lips. “so did you ever get a copy of the lab sheet from rayan?”

.

you watch from the front seats as the team wrap up practice tonight, their coach looking pleased at their performance. it was still difficult to follow the game, but the players all look content too despite the sweat and their ragged breathing.

they never did know how to hold back even during a practice.

you say your goodbyes to the other people who came to watch, shooting simon a text that you’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot, and walk out.

the cashmere sweater, thankfully, is enough to fight off the cool air and the gentle breeze while you make your trek to simon’s distinct range rover, all sleek and pure black like he’s got the damn royals for a passenger.

it’s locked so you hover outside, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your pants, and entertained yourself with making puffs of air like you’re ten again. it’s honestly not too bad to be alone, if it weren’t for the sudden swarming of your doubts—the very same ones you thought you already shrugged off before taking the cab to the rink.

fuck.

“hey, love,” simon’s voice pierces through your thoughts and you jump, barely smothering the yelp that almost tore itself from the base of your throat.

you swivel, heart pounding, and simon’s beautiful face creases into one of concern.

“are you–”

“si!” you greet, jogging to him.

he laughs and opens his arms for a hug, one that you excitedly give him. you tuck your cold face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, taking in the antiseptic scent of rink soap and the faint smell of his shampoo.

his body is so warm against yours, and you can’t help but melt in his hold, body relaxing at the comfort he brings you.

“you ready to go home?” he asks like the insinuation that his home is also yours is not heart-stopping and world-changing.

you nod, unable to trust your voice right now.

there’s something different whenever it’s just you and simon—your thoughts, for once, are quiet and your confidence in yourself peaking like simon is the only place in this world where you can truly be yourself. it’s not just indulgence, nor tolerance, but it’s pure unadulterated acceptance.

and maybe it’s because of that realization, that flipped switch, that in the lull of your conversation with simon, you bring it up.

“did you know? my friends think that you’re my sugar daddy.”

you feel him freeze, body going rigid as your words spill into the space between you two. you continue to hide your face away from, avoiding a serious conversation as regret begins to build, shame licking up from your fingertips to your ears.

stupid, you think to yourself. why the hell did i bring it up? fuck—

then, simon laughs, soft and sputtering, his whole body shaking as he giggles, choked wheezes uncontainable. you tip your head up just enough to catch his eyes, questions filling your tongue, waiting to be spilled, but simon cups your cheek so tenderly before you could doubt anything any more.

“do i need to be one to spoil you rotten?” he asks like he didn’t just shaken the foundations of your doubts.

do i need to be one to spoil you rotten, he said like spoiling you was the norm. like showering you with expensive gifts and booking you expensive flights and helping you with your expensive necessities was something that boyfriends typically do. like your friends are the odd ones for thinking he had to be anything other the man you’re dating to be able to splurge for you.

“no,” you say, dizzy with the weight of your affections.

simon’s smile droops, his eyes clearing. “was that something that honestly worried you?”

“i–”

the humour leaves him, and simon straightens up at seeing the gravity of the turmoil in your heart. his hands fall to your sides, thumbs hooked in the dip of your hips. he leans forward until his nose is brushing against yours.

“you know i love you, right?” simon asks, his voice quaking in desperation.

“yeah,” you sniffle, honest because god you mean it. “yeah, si. i know.”

“okay,” he says after a while, still intensely looking at you like you aren’t surely anything but a blob in his eyes with how close you two are pressed to each other.

then, his lips brush with yours, so faint, you almost missed it. you shudder at the feeling of it—how could a chaste kiss feel so intense?—your lips wobbling as something in your heart bloats.

you feel simon’s lips stretch into a grin from where they’re ghosting above yours, and then he’s kissing you again, this time deeper and longer. you curl your arms around his neck, feeling like you’re being swept off your feet all over again.

because simon is not good with words, truly, but he’s managed to swing an axe to the cornerstone of your self-doubt and made it crumble.

.

“oh god,” jo sobs in your arms, the two of you snuggled up under your sheets. “that was a joke! i promise!”

“i know,” you say, giggling. “i swear jo, it’s not you, it’s me.”

she looks up at you, eyes shimmering with tears. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” you croon, bumping foreheads with her. “...‘sides, simon’s taking me somewhere to make up for, and i quote, ‘making you doubt how serious i am about you’.”

she sniffs. “…permission to make a joke again?”

you grab your plushie from somewhere behind you and smack her ass with it.

“ow!”

“stop being dramatic—that didn’t hurt.”

[giggles nervously] so uh. 🏃🏻

#hockey au #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #f!reader #suns #guys. guys forgive me for my super self indulgence again 😭 #this ones long-ish again whew boy

[waldau]

how they take care of you — seventeen | 2,531 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

i didn't know i liked writing ot13 this much!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out/tired/scared/ill/sad? y'know, the usual spectrum of negative human emotions?

seungcheol

gets so concerned when he hears a hitch in your voice when you greet him that he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to you. doesn’t matter if he’s on a call or if he’s doing some important paperwork, he’s all yours now.

gives you a big, comforting hug that tries to shield you from everything but him. kisses your head to try and ground you.

doesn’t make you talk if you don’t want to, but he insists that you don’t keep it in for too long because it’s only going to hurt you in the end. lasts only for a while before asking if there's someone that needs some talking to for making you feel this sad.

tries to do anything in his power to see you smile, even if it's momentary. shows you a funny picture of his favourite child (mingyu) to cheer you up. asks if you feel okay enough to walk kkuma with him, because she needs some time with her other favourite person (you).

“you know i love you, right? that's never changing.”

jeonghan

is proud to be the person that becomes your comfort when something doesn’t go right, or when you’ve had a bad day.

immediately bottles up any jokes he’s about to make and wipes away your tears, stops only when you bat his hands away. even if he doesn’t want to let go of you, he respects your boundaries.

when you're feeling a bit better, he pulls you down into the sofa and cuddles with you, and is content whether you choose to tell him what’s on your mind, or if you want to be silent and fiddle with his shirt instead.

kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes when he promises you that it’s just one bad day, and that he’s always here for all the others. links pinkies with you because he knows how much it means to you, even if it may seem childish.

will resort to tickling you to make the last traces of your sadness vanish, and asks if there’s anything else he can do to make you smile.

joshua

comes to pick you up from work because he has a free day, and realizes something’s wrong the moment you greet him hello without even looking at his face for more than two seconds.

doesn’t make a big deal out of it, though. takes your stuff from you and greets you softly. opens the door for you and buckles your seat belt. asks you if it’s okay that he’s not taking you home first, because there’s some place else he wants to take you.

dismisses any concerns you have about not looking “good enough” to go out, because you look absolutely gorgeous at any time of the day, and he’d never lie about something like this to you. lets you choose whatever music you want as he weaves through the traffic on the streets, telling you about his day.

parks the car and gets out to hold your hand in his as he guides you over to the many stalls, asking you to pick whatever you want to eat. sits next to you on one of the benches overlooking the river, your legs swinging as you lean into his side and enjoy your meal. is glad he could take care of you like this because you needed it.

“trust me when i say whatever happened is not your fault, okay, sweetheart?”

junhui

is more confident in his actions than his words, because he can immediately notice the little changes in your behaviour: your tired smile, and the way you’re kind of curled in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space.

gives you a long hug with lots of cheek kisses and pulls you into the kitchen to show you what he’s working on: a dish that coincidentally happens to be your comfort food. it’s your favourite, especially when jun makes it in his own style.

this six foot man becomes small as he tries to do anything to make you smile. hates that you’re even feeling this way. throws random pickup lines at you to see which one gets you to crack and slap his arm and tell him to stop (he won’t, because he loves you too much).

offers to feed you dinner once it’s ready and makes random airplane noises that bring out a giggle from you. watches as you eat slowly and is glad when he sees your bowl is empty. doesn’t resist your offer of feeding him dinner once you’re done.

hides under the blankets with you and watches cat videos till your eyes shut from exhaustion and his arm hurts from holding up the phone from so long. cuddles with you and doesn’t let go even when you halfheartedly complain about how warm it is.

soonyoung

becomes so gentle that it pulls you out of your dullness a bit, makes you wonder where your usually hyperactive boyfriend is.

doesn’t baby you because he knows you don’t like it, but he makes sure you get everything you need. calls his mother to ask her the exact recipe for this soup she used to feed him when he used to get ill. stays by your side even when you have a raging fever and you’re worried he’s going to catch it if he kisses your cheek one more time.

doesn’t complain even once when you wake him up because of how uncomfortable you’re feeling. what else is he there for, if he can’t take care of the person he loves the most? wraps himself along with you in your blanket even if it’s hot enough that he can just melt.

is your hype man when you finally get better enough to start moving around the house by yourself. watches you with the biggest smile on his face that he will not tamp down when he sees you eating the soup he made, and almost cries with joy when you ask him for a second serving.

doesn’t blame you one bit when he catches the same bug a week later, because you’re there to take care of him through it, and because he loves you too much for it to be an issue.

wonwoo

gently pulls you into his chest the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks, and rests his head on yours. doesn’t ask you what’s wrong because he feels it’s more important to make you feel better.

doesn’t care that your tears are leaving behind a spot on his shirt, and shushes you for even pointing it out. in fact he wants you to do that so that you can run out of tears and he can take care of you properly.

gives you his hoodie to wear because it’s oversized on you, and he loves seeing you in it just as much as you love wearing it.

makes you wrap your arms around his waist from behind and cling onto him while he goes about the house finishing his share of chores. does yours without asking if he senses you’re too drained out to do them.

absolutely needs you by his side regardless of what he’s doing, whether it’s playing a game or brushing his teeth. offers to read you a book if you’re having trouble falling asleep. tells you he loves you in the lowest voice possible when he sees you finally asleep against his chest, breathing evened out.

jihoon

might not very verbal, but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to do to make things better.

knows you’re in his studio when the door shuts, but you don’t greet him. decides to finish some edits on the song he’s working on before he turns to you, only to find you lying on the sofa facing away from him.

genuinely sad to hear you had a bad day. he got through today only because of all the encouraging texts you sent him. decides the least he can do is return the favour.

wraps you in your favourite blanket that he always keeps at the studio for when you visit. holds your hand regardless of whether you want to talk or not. offers to order food to the studio so that he can make sure you’re not hungry.

very thankful that you came to him because you were feeling down, and he very much wants to call it a day and take you home so that he can cuddle with you and make your day just a bit better.

seokmin

his mood almost always mirrors yours, so when he sees you so exhausted and down, his heart genuinely hurts.

not a confrontational person, but he’s willing to fight whatever made you sad, even if it was a table you stubbed your toe on. happy that it brings a smile to your face even if he didn’t actually fight anything.

have you seen his arms? wraps them around you till you push him off with a bit of a smile on your face. he then decides he wants to use them to bake something for you. you’re the better baker between the two of you and since he’s got loads of time today, he decides he wants to learn something that he can make the next time you’re away and he doesn’t have to feel that lonely.

is your own personal jukebox. belts out whatever song you want, and does a mini infinite aju nice in the comfort of your kitchen, making you jump while the oven works, till you’re tired and actually smiling.

“it’ll be okay, i promise. i love you.”

mingyu

hates that you had a nightmare but is thankful that he was sleeping right next to you when it happened.

the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever see you in your life. when you wake him up with a shaky voice, he immediately blinks out of his sleep and holds you in his arms. he’ll hug you and keep hugging you till he can drain your sadness even just a little.

doesn’t matter how late it is; if you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll pull you to the kitchen and make his ramen just for you. makes you help him chop some ingredients and stir the broth so that you feel involved. keeps purposely bumping into you every time you cross paths and takes a kiss as payment.

finds some cheesy, slow music to dance to and gently pulls you all over the kitchen, twirling you and even bending you as the song ends. loves hearing your laugh when he pulls you back up.

“i hope you dream of me when you sleep again. i love you.”

minghao

words aren’t necessary when he can just take care of you the way you always deserve to be taken care of.

actually gets upset (a little) when you apologize for crying in front of him. who else will make you feel better when you’re down if not for him? makes you promise never to feel nervous to be emotional around him.

runs a bath for you and makes your favourite food. when you’re done with dinner and feeling a bit better, he takes you to bed and cuddles with you, wanting you to focus on his breathing so you can calm yourself. he whispers endearments into your ear. also makes sure you know how proud he is of you for getting through today.

would give you the entire world if he could, but when you tell him the only thing you want is him, he promises you he’s never going anywhere, no matter what happens.

“i’m so lucky to call myself yours, my love. always.”

seungkwan

he can never stand seeing his loved ones sad, so when he sees you, he needs to find a way to make your smile get back to your face.

sees your lips wobble when you say hello to him, and he eventually coaxes the issue out of you: your friends had ditched a get-together you’d been planning at the last minute, and they didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. he feels extremely angry on your behalf and is ready to curse. doesn’t do it only because it won’t help you.

thinks about what he can do to make you happy. asks if he can take you out on a drive tonight so you can watch the stars with him. when you regretfully decline the offer, he asks if you want to create a blanket fort and watch movies or go to sleep.

it’s not long before he’s constructing a blanket fort for the first time in his life thanks to some youtube tutorials. he’s upset when it collapses right in the middle of constructing it, but he realizes he’d build it a hundred times more if it meant you’d laugh the way you just did.

sets up snacks and your favourite drinks after a while. keeps apologizing to you on behalf of your so-called friends till you tell him to stop. promises that he’s always going to be with you, and that you don’t have to be sad when you’re with him. falls asleep with you in his arms, and a smile on your face, snacks and movies forgotten.

hansol

feels bad the moment he sees you try to mask the sadness on your face with a smile.

better with actions than words, so he kisses your forehead and trails you around the house while you try to relax from the day you had. if you’re really sad, he lets you just rest your head against his collarbone and breathe till you feel better.

“you’ve got this, and you’ve got me, okay? i’m right here.”

has a bunch of handmade coupons for whenever you feel sad. each coupon has the same four options: eat, talk, watch a movie, sleep. does whatever you choose, whether it’s only one or all four.

another one who has no problem with prolonged eye contact. he looks at you till you understand that he loves you more than he can say and that he’s always there for you when you feel like this.

chan

always used to being babied by his older brothers, so he feels happy to get a chance to take care of you. just doesn’t like the fact that you’re sad, because you deserve to be anything but.

very transparent with his affection for you. he whispers “i love you” into your hair when you ask him for a hug, shouts it across the living room when you come out to get some water, and holds your hand under the table during dinner even if it’s inconvenient.

if you’re really down, and don’t feel like talking, he bundles you into a blanket and puts you on the sofa and sits close to you, so that you have your space but he’s close enough if you need him.

sits with you while you work and watches intently even if he doesn’t understand much of what you’re doing. ready to go to the store and get you anything you’re craving, regardless of how late it is.

“i love looking after you, okay? don’t ever feel bad about telling me what’s troubling you.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched

@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #hurt/comfort #s.coups #scoups #jeonghan #joshua #junhui #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dokyeom #dk #mingyu #minghao #seungkwan #vernon #dino #ot13 #waldau writes

[maxtermind]

please i'm begging you (please don't feel pressured if your life is busy 💕) we need pt 2 to the angst i can't handle this 😭 my heart 💔 the writing is too good that i'm feeling things 😓

was i stupid to love you?

★ : summary :: when he downplays your feelings ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst; hurt/comfort ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: open ending, don't forget to vote after so i can get a bit of feedback :3 kinda rushed so might contain lots of typos sorryyyy!!

( part 1 )

Charles Leclerc

The house party buzzed with music and laughter, a cacophony that drowned your thoughts as you stormed through the crowded rooms. Your heart raced with a mix of anger and hurt, knowing Charles was right on your tail, determined to catch you before you could reach Arthur.

Your boyfriend’s hand wrapped around yours just as his brother turned around to look at you guys. You stomped your feet as you shook your head to dismiss Arthur and follow your boyfriend who quietly kissed your head in gratitude before you could step away.

”What is going on with you?!” Your voice trembled with barely contained fury as you confronted Charles in a quieter corner.

Charles sighed, his brow furrowing in frustration. ”I don’t know, baby. I’m so sorry—”

”You told me off when you should know that I’m right!” Your voice rose involuntarily. ”She fucking leaned in thinking that you were gonna choose her.”

”Y/N, please listen to me,” Charles said earnestly, stepping closer to you. ”I messed up. I know. But I would, never in a hundred years, choose anyone let alone her over you.”

You looked into Charles' eyes, seeing the sincerity and pain reflected in them. Your anger began to melt, replaced by a swirl of conflicting emotions.

”You’re just saying what I want to hear and I don't like it,” you said, your voice softer now, searching for clarity.

”It’s the truth,” Charles declared, his voice tinged with regret. ”I know I’ve hurt you baby and I'm sorry for that but I can’t— I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I watched you leave with my brother. Let me drop you home, okay?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and hurt mixing with the love you still felt for him. Charles gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting.

”Y/N, please,” Charles pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. ”I never want to make you feel like you need to run away from me. I want to talk this out, please give me a chance to make things right.”

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to forgive him and the pain of betrayal still fresh in your heart.

”Okay,” you finally whispered, feeling emotionally drained. ”Let's go.”

Charles nodded, relief washing over his face. He led you out of the noisy party, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring. The cool night air outside provided a stark contrast to the heated emotions inside.

As Charles drove you home, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled with unspoken words and the weight of what had just transpired. But Charles kept stealing glances at you, his eyes full of regret and love.

When you arrived at your shared apartment, Charles parked the car but made no move to get out. He turned to you, his expression soft and vulnerable.

”I'll leave if you want me to,” Charles said quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. ”But please, Y/N, give us a chance to talk tomorrow. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the love that still lingered despite everything. Tears fell down your cheeks as you nodded slowly.

”I need time,” you admitted softly, your voice barely audible. ”Time to sort through this.”

Charles nodded understandingly, reaching out to gently wipe away your tears. ”Take all the time you need,” he said softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. ”I'll be here, whenever you're ready.”

”Where will you go?” You asked, not wanting to leave just yet.

”To your brother’s house,” he joked and smiled cheekily when you let out a small laugh.

”I love you,” Charles continued and seemed satisfied when you saw your tinted cheeks, giving into the temptation to kiss your hand. ”I’ll stay at Arthur's for the night.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions. You watched Charles drive away, feeling the distance between you both but knowing that perhaps, with time, you could find a way back to each other.

Lando Norris

You sat in the break room at work, your lunch untouched in front of you. The memories of last night’s events still stung, the image of her hand on Lando’s thigh and the lipstick on his collar replaying in your mind.

Just as you were about to take a sip of water, the door swung open, and there he was, your— ex? —boyfriend, looking desperate and determined. You knew there was a possibility he’d try to catch you at work given that you’d taken away all other means.

”Y/N, can I please?” he said, his voice pleading as he pointed towards the hallway.

You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty hall, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.

You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty conference room, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.

”Y/N, please,” he started, his voice trembling slightly. ”I’m so sorry about last night.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the table. ”Bet you had a good time, huh?”

”No, I didn't,” Lando said in disbelief before he took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. ”Nothing that happened there was intentional. We were all drinking, and she... she got too close. I should have pushed her away. I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, anger bubbling up again, finally fired up enough to speak your mind. ”Her hand was on your fucking thigh, Lando. And your collar— her lipstick was all over it. How do you explain that?”

He winced, clearly pained by the memory. ”I know it looks bad, but it wasn’t what it seemed. She leaned in close to talk to me, and I didn’t realize she had left a mark. It was a— just a stupid mistake, and I should have been more aware.”

”More aware?” you echoed, your voice rising. ”You should have cared about how it would make me feel! Instead, you shrugged it off like it was nothing.”

”I didn’t mean to shrug it off,” he said, stepping closer. ”I was wrong. I should have reassured you, should have shown you that you’re the only one that matters to me. Baby, please just let me—”

You looked away, the pain still fresh. ”It’s not just about the lipstick or her hand. It’s about how you made me feel like I was overreacting, like my feelings didn’t matter.”

”They do matter,” he said, his voice breaking. ”More than anything. I was an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately. I should have come to you and told you everything before you saw it for yourself.”

”You know I only want you,” he added softly, his eyes pleading with you.

You shook your head, trying to hold back tears. ”That’s the thing, Lando. I don’t know that. I actually believe that y— you don’t at all.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears as a broken whisper of your name left his mouth. ”I h.. have never, I never will. Ever.” He stressed. ”Want anyone— need anyone the way I want you.”

You kept quiet as you looked at him trying to catch himself. Lending him your hand that he squeezed in return.

”I can’t believe you would ever believe that but I understand and, I promise… I’ll be more mindful, more respectful. I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m taken, that I’m yours. Please, give me a chance to make it right.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you let out a slow breath, trying to not have a breakdown at your workplace. ”It’s going to take time, Lando. Trust isn’t rebuilt overnight.”

”I know,” he said, relief washing over his features. ”And I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust.”

”Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. ”I’ll give it a thought, Lando. But if you hurt me again, we’re done.”

”I understand,” he said, his voice filled with determination. ”Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.”

Max Verstappen

The streets were bustling with late-night revelers, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. The restaurant's neon sign flickered as you stepped out into the cool night air, your phone clenched tightly in your hand.

Three hours. You had waited for three hours, hoping Max would show up for your anniversary dinner, only to find out from the story of your mutual friend that he was out with her again.

On your anniversary.

You made your way through the crowded streets, not caring where you ended up. You just needed to get away, to think, to process the hurt and betrayal. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, but you ignored it. Max's calls and messages could wait. Right now, you needed space.

After wandering aimlessly for a while, you found yourself at the edge of the city, near the river. The quiet contrast of the flowing water was a welcome change from the city's noise. You sat on a bench, pulling your jacket tighter around you as a light drizzle began to fall. The soft patter of rain on the water's surface was soothing, but it didn’t dull the ache in your heart.

Minutes turned into an hour, and the rain intensified. Your phone buzzed again, and this time you glanced at it. Last message from Max was a minute ago

Max: Y/N, please. Where are you? Let me explain. I’m looking for you.

You sighed, wiping away the raindrops mixed with your tears. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally typed a reply.

You: By the river. Near the old bridge.

You didn’t know why you told him, but some part of you wanted to hear him out. To understand why he kept doing this. Why would he even waste time with you if he was already in love with someone else?

God. Even the thought of that brought up a real pain in your chest. The rain fell harder, and you huddled under the small awning of a nearby building, trying to stay somewhat dry.

After what felt like an eternity, you saw a figure running towards you through the rain. It was Max, drenched and breathless. He slowed as he approached, his eyes filled with worry and regret. HIs clothes were all over the place, untucked and wrinkled and you only drew the worst conclusion.

”Y/N,” he gasped, stopping a few feet away. ”Thank God, you're okay.”

You stood up, arms crossed defensively. ”You’ve got five minutes, Max. Make it count.”

He nodded, taking a step closer. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know I’ve let you down. I was with her tonight because she’s going through a really rough time. She had no one else to turn to.”

You narrowed your eyes, the skepticism clear. ”On our anniversary? How convenient.”

He flinched at your tone but didn’t back down. ”I know it’s no excuse. I should have told you. I thought I could help her quickly and still make it to dinner. I didn’t realize it would take so long.”

You shook your head, the anger bubbling up again. ”This isn’t the first time, Max. How many times have I had to wonder if she’s really just a friend? How many times have you put her before me?”

Max stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I’ve been blind, Y/N. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. There’s nothing romantic between us. She’s just a friend, and she needed my help. But I see now that I’ve been unfair to you.”

Tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks. ”I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Max. The constant worry, the feeling like I’m not enough. It’s tearing me apart.”

He reached out, tentatively taking your hand. ”You are more than enough, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’m so sorry. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. All you saw was sincerity and regret. ”How can I trust you again, Max? What did she even need help with?”

He squeezed your hand gently. ” She saw her ex at the club and he was being an asshole. I just went over for five to put him in his place when one of her friends posted the story. I’m sorry for the delay, baby. I know I should've been more transparent about everything. Just please, give me a chance to make things right.”

”Is she okay?” You took a shaky breath, your heart aching with the desire to believe him and he exhaled when you pulled him under the shit excuse of shelter you had from the rain.

”She’s okay. I promise I won't ever embarrass you this way again, baby. You won’t ever have to sit and wonder if I'm bailing because I found someone else or not.” Max took another deep breath. ”I never will, baby, you are the only one I want. I will never find anyone.”

You closed your eyes, the tears spilling over as you hugged him. ”I wanna go home.”

”Okay let’s go home, baby.” Max gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. ”But I need you to know. You are my priority, Y/N. I’ll never let you feel otherwise again. I love you more than anything, and I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain as you hugged him.

He sighed again, closing his eyes to soak in this. ”Happy anniversary, baby. I love you”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a tired smile.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos's pleas had grown quieter, the urgency in his voice replaced with a softness that seemed to seep through the crack under the door.

You could hear his breath hitching, a clear sign that he was on the verge of breaking down himself. But you couldn’t get yourself to stand up as you sat on the bed, knees drawn to your chest, tears still streaming down your face as you tried to block out the sound.

”Y/N, please,” he choked out, and you could hear the tears in his voice now. ”I'm so sorry. I... I don't know what else to say. I can't lose you.”

The sincerity and raw emotion in his voice cut through you in a vicious manner, and against your better judgment, you found yourself getting up. You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before finally opening the door just a crack.

Carlos was standing there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. When he saw you, a look of profound relief washed over his face. ”Thank you,” he whispered.

You stepped back, letting him in. He walked in slowly, as if afraid to invade your space, and you closed the door behind him. The silence was heavy, each second stretching into an eternity.

”I'm so sorry,” Carlos said again, his voice trembling. ”I swear, I didn't know she was going to kiss me. If I had known, I would have never invited her. I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own shaking voice. ”But you did invite her, Carlos. And I told you to cut her off so many times. Why didn't you listen?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly defeated. ”I thought... I thought we were just friends. I didn't realize she felt that way about me. And when she kissed me, I was so shocked. I— I froze. I'm an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately.”

”You should have,” you echoed, your voice breaking as you recalled that scene and it felt like someone was physically stabbing you. ”Do you have any idea how much it hurt to see that?”

Carlos stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I know, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Y/N. You're the only one I want to be with.”

You looked down, tears falling onto the floor. ”How do I know that, Carlos? How do I know you won't let this happen again?”

He gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. ”Because I can’t ever go through this again. I don’t want to know what it feels like to almost lose you. I'll cut her off completely. I promise you, baby, just, anything— it will never happen again.”

You pulled your hands away, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. ”It's not just about cutting her off, Carlos. I can never get that image out of my brain now. What if you just wake up tomorrow that you didn’t get rid of her because yo— you…?”

You trailed off but Carlos understood and immediately shook his head. ”No,” he said firmly. ”I will never wake up with anyone other than you in my heart. You’re the one I love, the one I am going to live my life with.”

He didn’t let you speak as he carried on,”I understand. Trust is earned, not given. And I'll do whatever it takes to earn it back. I'll prove to you that you can trust me.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. ”I want to believe you. But it's going to take time. A lot of time.”

”I know,” he said softly. ”And I'm willing to wait. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again. Just please, don't shut me out. Let me be there for you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine remorse and love in them. Despite everything, a part of you still loved him deeply. ”Okay,” you whispered. ”But you have to understand, it's going to be hard. I'm still hurt, and it's going to take a while for me to heal.”

Carlos nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. ”I'll be patient. I'll be here for you, no matter what. And I'll do everything I can to make it right.”

”Alright.” You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. ”Just... don't make me regret it.”

”I won't,” Carlos stepped closer, tentatively reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. ”I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”

You gave him a small as you leaned into his touch, feeling a mix of emotions, ”I love you too, Carlos. That's why this hurts so much.”

He pulled you into a gentle hug, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. ”We'll get through this. Together.”

Lewis Hamilton

You paced around your apartment, the anger and hurt from the argument still fresh. The silence after the exchange with Lewis was deafening. You couldn’t believe he said those things. Your phone buzzed on the couch, but you ignored it, needing space to process.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. It was loud and persistent. You hesitated, hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.

”Y/N, please open up. I need to talk to you,” Lewis’s voice came through the door, sounding desperate.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. Your boyfriend stood there, looking remorseful.

”What do you want, Lewis?” you asked, your voice cold.

”Can I come in? Please, we need to talk,” he pleaded.

You stepped aside reluctantly, letting him in. He walked into the living room, turning to face you with regret etched on his face.

”I’m sorry, Y/N,” he started, his voice soft as he ran a hand over his face. ”I didn’t mean what I said. I was frustrated— but that’s no excuse.”

”You really hurt me,” you said, crossing your arms defensively knowing you had to support yourself before you start crying again. ”And you were so fucking cruel about it!”

”I know, and I hate that I did that to you,” he replied, his eyes sincere. ”I’ve been spending too much time with her, and I’ve been blind to how it’s been affecting you— us. Affecting us.”

”Why do you keep seeing her then? If she’s just a friend, why does it feel like she’s more important than me?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

”She’s not more important than you,” he said quickly. ”I’ve let the boundaries blur, and I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. I’m sorry.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. This was not what you expected. You were ready for a fight, sure that Lewis would come with his own weapons out but this was undoing you.

”It’s not just about her, Lewis. It’s about us. You’ve been distant, and I feel like I’m losing you.”

Lewis nodded, looking pained and sick. ”You’re not losing me, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve taken you for granted. I want to fix this.”

”How?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Desperately clinging onto him to make amends because you couldn’t see any in hindsight.

”By being more present, by setting boundaries, and by showing you every day how much you mean to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. ”Please give me a chance to make this right.”

”Words aren’t enough anymore,” you said, looking down at your joined hands.

”I know,” he nodded. ”But I'm willing to go through any lengths, I’ll prove to you that you’re my priority.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the determination and regret. ”I want to trust you,” as your voice cracked, the very first tear fell down your face and Lewis immediately grabbed you as he pulled you to lay your head on his chest.

”I can’t though— I wish I could but I can't get hurt again.”

”I understand and I promise you can shoot me if I hurt you again” he said. ”I love you, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain. ”I love you too.” You felt him take a sigh as he held you tight against his warm body.

”And I need you to understand that my feelings are valid,” you continued as you soaked his shirt with your tears. ”When I tell you something bothers me, I need you to listen and not dismiss it.”

”I promise I’ll listen,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. ”I’ll do better because losing you would end me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift slightly. As you stood there in your boyfriend’s arms, you realized that healing would take time but there was no one else you would rather heal with. Though only time could tell what the future held for you.

Oscar Piastri

You closed your eyes as you heard the door of your best friend's apartment being knocked on again. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, sadness.

You replayed the messages over and over in your head, each one cutting deeper than the last as you contemplated whether letting Oscar in would be a good decision. You finally made the decision when you heard the neighbor’s lock moving.

You pulled him in before they could open their door or call the cops and finally took a look at him. He looked disheveled. His eyes were red from holding unshed tears as they glossed over once he finally took you in.

”Y/N,” Oscar started, moving towards you with open arms. ”Thanks for letting me in.”

”I almost didn't.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your voice steady as you stepped away from his open arms. ”But you were waking up the whole damn building.”

Oscar nodded, looking down at the ground. ”I deserve that.” You took a deep breath, desperate to get this over with.

”Why, Oscar? Why did you lie to me?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ”I... I was scared you'd get upset. I thought if I told you the truth, you'd leave me.”

”And now?” you scoffed, your voice rising. ”You think I'm not upset now? You think lying to me makes it any better?”

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”Y/N, I made a mistake. A huge mistake. But nothing happened between me and her, I swear. We were drunk, and she sat on my lap for a picture. It was stupid and irresponsible, but that's all it was.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. ”Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Seeing her on your lap after you told me she wasn't even going to be there?”

Oscar reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back once again and his eyes brimmed with tears. ”Y/N, please. I love you. I was an idiot, but I love you. I need you to believe that.”

You wiped your eyes, trying to compose yourself. ”How can I believe you, Oscar? When I don't even know if you really want me?”

He swallowed hard, his tears finally falling out of his eyes. Oscar looked defeated as if he was fighting a battle already lost.

”Please don’t say that. You’re the only person I want. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I'll never lie to you again. I'll be completely honest, even if it's something I think will hurt you. Just... please give me a chance to make it right.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. You saw only earnest regret and a desperate longing for forgiveness. You wanted to believe him, but the hurt was still so raw.

”I don't know if I can,” you whispered. ”You've broken my trust, Oscar. And that's not something you can just fix with words.”

He nodded slowly. ”I know. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I'll go to counseling, I'll give you access to my phone, my social media, anything you need to feel secure. Just please, don’t give up on us.”

You stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation heavy in the air. You looked around the dimly lit apartment, as you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

”Okay,” you said finally. ”I’m willing to discuss this in the morning. But if you lie to me again, if you hurt me again, we're done. Do you understand?”

Oscar's face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination as his chest heaved. ”I understand. I promise you, Y/N, I'll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”

You nodded, as your lips quivered. ”I hope so. Because I don't think I can go through this again.”

He stepped closer, cautiously taking your hand. You allowed it, feeling the warmth of his touch. ”Thank you,” he said softly. ”I won't let you down.”

You stood together, still holding hands. The silence between you was different now—tentative, but with a flicker of understanding. You had a long way to go, but for the first time since those fateful messages, you felt like maybe, just maybe, not all was lost.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

#★ : my work ! #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 angst #f1 fluff #hurt/comfort

[yeostars]

When ATEEZ members give you back hugs, reaction post! [hyung line ver.]

<3 Hongjoong

•Hongjoong had invited you to visit him in his new studio when you were free from work. It was getting pretty hard to spend time with your bf nowadays, and the only way you could be together was if you visited him in his studio while he was working. You took up on the offer because, why not? You would also get to see how his new studio looked like and you were excited.

•When you finally reached, hongjoong welcomed you warmly, showing you around his new studio proudly: the brand new gigantic sofa, the decorative lights, the new computer setup, everything looked amazing. You couldn't take your eyes off your surroundings, hongjoong had decorated it on quite a minimalist manner yet it looked stylish, you definitely felt that it was truly his style.

•Your breath almost hitched in your throat as two arms wrapped around your waist, slowly, as you examined a few paintings he hung at the top of the wall. "Looks good, doesn't it? Do you like it, babe?" He asked, his voice low. You placed your own palm above his arms wrapped around you, caressing it softly. "It looks amazing, joong. You're surely gonna love working here from now on." You said, a blush creeping up on your cheeks when he pulled you even closer to him.

"I missed you. It's sad that the only way we can spend time nowadays is when you visit me while I'm at work." He sounded frustrated. You felt disappointed about that too, ofcourse, but thats just how it was: your work timings and his were different so the only time when you truly got to spend time with him was during the weekends.

"I missed you too, love. Lets plan a short trip for this weekend, even if it's two days, we'll make the most of the time we have together." You tried your best to sound enthusiastic. Hongjoong always loved that about you, how you tried to be happy in front of him even though he knew you were disappointed sometimes.

"That sounds great. Now that you're here, let me order your favourite food, then we can plan the trip today itself." His arms left your waist, and his fingers naturally intertwined with yours, as he led you towards the couch. You both sat comfortably there, spending your precious time together to the fullest.

<3 Seonghwa

• You had a pretty bad day. Might just be the worst day of your life, nothing seemed to work out the way you wanted it to- you accidentally dropped your favourite mug and hot coffee spilled all over your brand new work outfit, you were late for the bus at the bus stop and you barely managed to get work and reply to mails at work, your senior had asked you to take over an absent employee's work but you couldn't get it done efficiently and got a lot of hearing from your boss regarding the same.

• Hence, here you were, sitting at the edge of your bed that you shared with your bf, your head buried in your knees as you quietly sobbed. Seonghwa was going to be home soon and you wanted to stop crying and try to be normal because you did not want to make him worry, he was going to be quite tired himself from practice. But you couldn't help it, you cried half of the time and half of the time you cursed yourself mentally.

• You almost started to get a migraine because of how much you had cried till now. You didn't even notice that Seonghwa came back home, calling out for you. At this point, you felt that you were about to have a bad anxiety attack.

"Y/N, you're already home?" He called out, searching for you and cautiously approached your shared bedroom, entering only once he noticed that the door was slightly open.

"Sweetheart? What are you doing here?" He asked, noticing your hunched shoulders, your back faced him as he entered. Without another word, he sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you closer to his chest. Seonghwa did not need to say anything else, he knew how you were when you were at your lowest and knew exactly what you wanted- physical affection. You immediately leaned into his embrace, your head resting against his shoulder.

"Breathe in, and out- yes, that's it. You're okay. Everything's okay, I'm here." Seonghwa hummed in satisfaction as your breathing was under control, and if he hadn't come now you would have already had a pretty bad anxiety attack. His hands moved on slow, comforting circles on your arms, his embrace truly was the most comforting thing in the world.

"I got pretty worried when I reached home and didn't see you in the living room. What happened, love?" He asked after a while.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." You let out, slowly facing him as you felt better and calmed down. Seonghwa reached out for your face, his fingers gently wiping your tear stained cheeks. "Please, don't apologise for this. You know that I'm always here for you. Wanna talk about it?" You nodded, but before that Seonghwa quickly got up and bought you a glass of water, watching you with a soft smile at the corner of his lips as you slowly chugged the water down. "Good. Now tell me who i have to deal with, who made you cry like this?" He asked, sounding quite serious.

"It's nothing, hwa. I just happened to have the worst day ever, all because of my clumsiness." You let out with a huff, and Seonghwa placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. He listened to you rant about anything and everything, all night- your worst day had apparently become so much better because of Seonghwa.

<3 Yunho

• It was the weekend, you got up quite earlier than usual instead of staying in bed and sleeping longer. Your stomach grumbled violently, you remembered how you barely had dinner last night because you were trying intermittent fasting to loose some weight. As you thought about whipping up a breakfast that was healthy and could make you full as well, you slowly untangled yunho's arms around your shoulders, careful not to wake him up and headed towards the bathroom to brush first and then made your way towards the kitchen.

• The first light of dawn streamed towards the kitchen window, as you softly hummed to yourself while flipping some eggs and reached the cutting board to slice up a few avocados to add on top. All of a sudden, a pair of strong arms encircled your waist, making you flinch. "Geez, can you atleast give me a warning!!!" You let out, calming down instantly as you saw Yunho's adorable still-sleepy face and he backed down a little, rubbing his eyes. You chuckled, placed his arms around your waist once again and continued slicing up the avocados.

• "You seriously get scared by the smallest stuff, don't you?" He teased, now fully awake. "Not my fault that you hug me from behind out of nowhere. You know I flinch easily."

"Good morning to you too." He replied instead, placing his chin firmly on your shoulder, observing your every little move on the cutting board. You hummed, now reaching out for the whole wheat bread packet. Yunho's eyes landed on your neck, and he detached his chin from your shoulders, smirking to himself. A noticeable, reddish spot, a hickey- at the right side of your neck. "What are you doing?" You asked, as your eyes met his and you glanced down sideways, trying your best to see what exactly he was staring at and tracing that made him so smug. He now placed a kiss exactly at the spot where he gave you a hickey, admiring it.

•"You're insane, you know that? I'll have to cover that up with makeup now, I have work tomorrow..." You sighed, but at the same time you couldn't hide the blush that formed on your cheeks as you remembered what exactly had happened last night.

"I'll do it more often now. How about I suck at a spot right besides this one?" Yunho teased, as you swatted your arm playfully at his, he lightly stumbled behind. "That's what you get for being mean first thing in the morning." You pouted, but reached forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek regardless when he flashed you his best innocent puppy face smile.

"Go brush and sit, I'll cook some eggs for you too." You said and he nodded, practically running towards the bathroom because apparently he was very hungry, too.

<3 Yeosang

• It was a day off for the both of you. Regardless, you had to get some work done from home because you had been procrastinating for the same. After having breakfast together, yeosang was sitting on the couch, gaming in your living room and you sat at the work desk in your room, carefully reviewing mails and getting such work done.

• You spent 2 hours consistently working, and although your chair was quite comfortable your shoulders started to ache badly. Right when you were groaning about your shoulder pain, Yeosang entered your room, passing you a gentle smile. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms all around your neck, and you giggled when his breath tickled your ears.

"You've been working since hours, y/nnie~ come on, it's time to have lunch." He said, staring at your laptop screen and you typed hurriedly, your stomach grumbling at the mention of lunch, you were quite hungry.

"Just a few minutes, then we can order something. Ah, my shoulder hurts, can you move behind a little?" You asked, and Yeosang immediately removed his hands from your neck, resting them gently on your shoulders instead.

"Sorry, I didn't realise. You want me to massage them? I'm sure you'll feel relieved if I do, I'm quite skilled." He added.

"Yes, please. Thank you in advance, yeo." You sighed in pleasure as he bagan to knead your shoulders with him thumbs, applying gentle pressure to the knots that had formed from hours of tension. His fingers worked expertly, finding the tight spots and easing the stiffness with slow, deliberate movements.

"Make sure to take breaks in between. You overwork yourself sometimes." He said, continuing to massage your shoulders skillfully. "I will, thank you. You're the best." You continued to work for a few minutes more as Yeosang sat on your bed, watching you. When your work was finally done, you got up, and Yeosang reached for you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Let's order something, I'm starving."

"How about we watch the drama you're currently watching, while having lunch?" You said, knowing how much Yeosang loved watching that drama. "That'd be perfect, let's go." He smiled, leading you towards the living room.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez recs #ateez x y/n #ateez kpop #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #yeosang #yunho #hongjoong #seonghwa #yeosang imagines #yunho imagines #hongjoong imagines #seonghwa imagines #kpop imagines #atzsource #atz fluff #atz x reader #atz #atz imagines #ateez x you

[junislqve]

⟡ stay in my memories

when you had finally started to accept your past, it comes back to haunt you

pairs ex!jake + reader content angst kissing jake being toxic wordcount 1404 — find my other works

note ending is highkey rushed and was supposed to be happy, but this is self indulgent, so! i also listened to memories an ungodly amount while writing this

YOU HUFFED AS YOUR DOORBELL RANG FOR THE SECOND TIME. it was 11pm. a few minutes ago, your friend had just left after picking up her cat from the week-long vacation she had with her boyfriend. you had sensed she’d forgotten something.

when it rang once more, you begrudgingly stood up dragging your legs to the front door. the lights to your small living room was already off save for one that was only enough to illuminate the front door.

you sigh as the door click open, “you really need to stop forget-” 

“hi, babyy” 

your heart dropped. not because of how the man in front of you accidentally stumbled and now practically has his boy weight supported by you, and also somehow not because of how his hands circle your body and rest on your waist like how it used to.

it was his voice that did. 

his voice that you swore on everything you would never want to hear again. hating how it sounded so much you’d bail on any man that sounded similar to him or had his accent.

how could you not when only a few simple words uttered with that voice had your mind reeling? repeating the same heart wrenching sentence in your head over and over again, it engraved itself.

it was pouring outside. you’ve been very stuffed with schoolwork and your finals coming up. papers spread out everywhere on your table and books scattered on your bedsides and floor. 

you felt a tickle on your ankle and watched as your dog rubbed its side on your body, begging for attention. you chuckle, dropping your pen and bending down to pick her up. sitting her on your lap as you rubbed its back. 

“i’m sorry, i just need to finish this paper and i’ll promise i’ll give you some attention, okay?” you coo at her, it hung her head low but complied, laying her head on your lap. 

a moment later, your phone lit up. you stared at the caller and with no hesitation immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face, “hi, babe-”

“let’s break up”

you stopped. the pouring rain seemed to have hushed in a matter of seconds, the air around you felt constricted. your dog stayed silent, looking up at you in confusion.

“what?” 

“it’s just going to be hard keeping up our relationship in the long run. i’m graduating and you still have two years” 

“so?”

“so i don’t want to hold each other back” he sounded frustrated. 

“so that’s it?” you ask, voice heavy. “you’re going to leave me because you don’t want to wait two years for me?”

“you’re twisting my words”

“that’s exactly what you said, jake” 

“i’m sorry”

no he’s not. 

“no, you’re not” you say, you wait for a second too long before hanging up. you damn well know he’s not, because if he was you wouldn’t be crying as hard as you are right now. your chest wouldn’t have felt as painful as it does.

there was nothing but confusion that clouded your mind the following days. you were trying to reason with yourself why he’d ever break up with you. 

your boyfriend is the sweetest yet most comforting guy you’ve ever known. or at least, was. you thought there must be something wrong with you.

everything reminded you of him. back then, you thought you hit the lottery when he landed as your first love as well as your first boyfriend. you never doubted your relationship, he was always there for you whenever you needed him and you never turned him down if he needed a shoulder. 

every waking moment after the breakup felt plain to you. habits and hobbies turned more of a chore, some of the things you did were picked up from his habits.

you were quiet about your breakup. it took a total of 13 days until anyone found out. your friends having to fish it out of you when they felt how quiet and more zoned out you’ve become.

for three months, jake’s name was not allowed to be uttered. it was a rule your friend made. she knew anything correlated to him could tip you off, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

she didn’t know that you’d still visit his old album from time to time just to feel something. to remember all the ways he loved you and all the ways he wasn’t there to, anymore.

you can’t let go the feeling of how he would hug you, all the times he would kiss you giggles filling out every corner of the room. the moments he’d lay on the bed with you, whispering sweet nothings lulling you to sleep.

you still can feel all of that, a ghost of the past you were never willing to let go.

you wished time could heal all of you completely. because now when you swore you have finally started to move on, he has his body slumped on yours, breath fanning your neck.

“jake?” you curse yourself from how quiet it came out. your voice wavering, your breath shallow before you slowly walk in, his body still slumped on yours.

he hummed, “i missed you” he dug his head deeper into your neck, making you physically sick.

you tug him off, stabling him by his shoulders and you wished you didn’t. you could see his state now. his hair was all messed up, face tinted red from drinking and he had that pout. his eyes attempting to blink itself awake as he looks at you through sleepy eyes.

“jake” you say again, finding your voice. that pout of his grew at your tone.

“don’t you miss me?” he asks, voice so soft you almost gave in. his hands still hover on your waist and you’d lie if you said you weren’t fully aware of it. 

“i’ll grab you some water” you say, walking out of his reach. the heat from his body slowly seeping away as you walk to grab a glass of water.

you turn back to see him sat on the couch, his head laying on the arm rest, legs sprawled sideways. tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes crease open along with that smile of his. your heart clenched.

he grabs the cup and downs it in one gulp, “thank you” he says quietly.

when you were about to grab it and walk back to the kitchen, jake had tugged your shirt causing you to topple on top of him on the couch. 

“you haven’t said you missed me back” he said, head buried in your hair, breathing you in. 

you gathered all of you to push against him and stand up, “jake, stop”

“i know you’re sober”

it barely showed, but you could see the slight waver of his smile.

“i miss you” he says for the third time tonight, eyes open but still slightly glazed.

“you’re being selfish” tears start to well up. it’s overwhelming to say the least. how could he just show up at your doorstep months later giving you false hope? after everything he’s made you go through.

“i know” he starts, sitting up slightly, “and i know i have no right to come back here begging for you to come back. but i miss you”

“you should leave” you look away.

“please”

“jake”

“i’m sorry” he says, “but i’ll do better this time”

maybe it was those eyes that convinced you, or the sliver of sincerity you pretended to see in his eyes or maybe once again it was that voice that allured you. but you gave in. 

he brought you in for a kiss. one that you’ve undoubtedly miss all these months of being apart. jake just knew how to bring you back into his arms. he held you all night long and between the kiss and the cuddling, you dozed into a sleep you haven’t felt for months.

you shifted, you peek at the light hitting your eyes from the slip of the curtains. 

you rolled over, the space beside you, cold. 

you sat up, the blanket falling off your body as you looked around the living room. trying to grasp at the hazy memory of last night.

the table in front of the couch is neat. when your eyes focused there was a scrap of paper placed on it.

‘i don’t deserve you, i’m sorry

-love, j’

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

#🫧 ── 𝒇𝐢𝐜𝐬 && 𝒘𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ⟡ #© junislqve 2024 #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun x you #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun fic #sim jake x reader #sim jake fluff #sim jake imagines #sim jake fanfic #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake fake texts #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x y/n #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x you #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #park jay x you #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x you

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me (part 2)- matt sturniolo

part one, part 2

summary- matt has always hated your guts, but everything changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains- vampire!matt x reader, enemies to lovers, smut (not in this part), themes of death, dark themes, high school au! (18 yrs old)

——————————————————————————

your pov:

i woke up with a massive headache, my chest heaving. the first thing i think of is matt.

what the fuck, why is he on my mind on a saturday morning.

i shudder at my own actions and throw my covers over my head as a phantom chill runs down my spine.“cant stay in bed forever” i sigh to myself, while throwing the covers off my body almost immediately after putting them back on. I march to my closet and change into my favorite running shorts. as soon as i step foot out of my house, i start to jog, the melodic tempo lulling me out of my morning funk. my peace is disrupted tho because out the corner of my eye, i see my neighbor walk out his house into his driveway. his eyes bore into mine before they rake up and down my body. my heart beat picks up slightly, and it’s not from the exercise.

my neighbor, kit, has been weirdly obsessed with me ever since he and his girlfriend broke up. about a week ago, i caught him snooping around our house at night, trying to get a peek into my room. after that i’ve been trying to avoid crossing paths, and i wasn’t planning on crossing them today. its fine, hes probably taking out the trash, i think, desperately trying to reassure myself. i speed up from a light jog to a full on sprint because i know that once hes out my sight, i will feel more comfortable. i sigh in relief when i round the corner to the next street in my subdivision, happy that i got away from him.

slap slap slap

his feet pound against the ground as he sprints to catch up with me. i whirl around once i hear the footsteps, and lock eyes with him. the accidental eye contact was enough to spur him to go even faster than his long legs were taking him before. my heart to drops and i turn back around, running on pure adrenaline and fear.

“Y/n, stop running and come talk to me!” kit yells angrily but i’m running far too hard to form a proper sentence. even if i wanted to respond to him i wouldn’t have the breath to do so.

“STOP PLAYING HARD TO GET. YOU KNOW YOU WANT ME Y/N. COME HERE AND ADMIT IT” he screams even louder. my head starts to pound and my mind reels trying to come up with a plan. i can’t run forever. i gather the little breath i have in me to muster up a scream in hopes someone will come help me, only for the air to be knocked out of me. i ran straight into something, no,

someone.

“get. the fuck. away from her.” the mystery man growls.

kit takes one look at him and slowly backs away in fear. “who the hell are you?” out of curiosity, i look up to see who i’ve run into and freeze.

matt?

no it can’t be. it looks just like him but his eyes are dark red, and dark black veins swirl under his pale skin like they have a mind of their own. “who are you?” i cringe as i repeat the same question kit did moments before, both our tones lacking a single ounce of courage. fear was all consuming as we stared at the monster in front us.

“you know who i am, y/n. get behind me. now. im gonna deal with him” he says gruffly while looking behind me at kit. kit whimpers at the sight of matts deadly stare.

i ignore what matt says, opting to look him up and down instead in a manner that screams “what the fuck is wrong with you”. but then, i try to think rationally for a moment, this is still matt after all. he may not like me but hes not gonna hurt me. right?

“what happened to you, matt?”i question breathlessly.

“you.” matt deadpans in a voice much deeper than his normal one, taking a step closer to me. he reaches his hand out to grab me. to take me.

“y/n get away from him!!” kit interjects and pulls me too him in hopes of trying to help me get away from matt. and for once, i’m actually glad kits here.

wrong move.

matt is in front of me in a flash. he snarles as he pushes kit with bone crushing force. his body goes flying, hitting a pole a couple of yards away with a loud thud, knocked out on impact. i shriek, terror filling my veins. as if sensing my strong distress, matt turns to me slowly. his arms out in front of him, in what is supposed to be a peaceful gesture.

hard to be comforting when your veins are as dark as your tattoos.

“y/n, we need to talk” the stranger, deeper version of matts voice says.

why can’t i move. im frozen in time as he takes slow steps towards me.

“you need to come with me, y/n.” he breathes out, his dark red eyes wide and crazed. he takes another step closer. my legs feel like jelly but i finally manage to take one step back. whatever matt is, it can’t be human. humans can’t throw each other several yards. their veins aren’t as black as midnight, and their eyes sure as hell don’t change to a deep red on command. so what does he, no, it, want from me.

“w- why do i need to come with you? ”

“because you’re mine” he growls, finally deciding to close the gap between us, faster than my eyes can process. he bends down and run his nose along the hot spot on my neck. he inhales deeply and moans in relief his black veins disappearing. i scream and try to push him off but its useless. he grabs my arm in a vice grip and pure horror spreads through my body for what feels like the 100th time today. i try to let out another scream but no sound comes out. my vision clouds and my head is spinning. then everything is black.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@fratbrochrisgf

@mattslolita

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown: ch. III

Summary: Kit and Airk visit Azarenth to celebrate your fifteenth birthday, but when your mother delivers some earth-shattering news, your relationships with the twins crumble. After an ‘experiment’ gone wrong, you realize some things about yourself that could destroy your life, as well as those of the people around you.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: angst, boy-kissing, girl-kissing, implied vomiting (not graphic), half-smut, heavy petting, second base, forced marriage, nightmare

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: it’s getting steamy up in here

The day you turned fifteen was a cause of celebration for all of Azarenth. Your parents held an elaborate banquet in your honor, complete with minstrels and jesters, and invited the entire kingdom to celebrate. All day long, you received birthday wishes and blessings from the townspeople, indulged in your favorite foods, and drowned in a seemingly endless sea of presents. Luxurious garments, precious jewelry, fine craftsmanship; you were gracious for every one, but none compared to the greatest gift of them all.

“Tomorrow morning, the twins from Tir Asleen will be riding in for a visit.” Your mother informed you later that evening, after all the party guests had gone home.

You froze in your tracks, the news leaving you momentarily speechless. “Really? They’re visiting here?”

“Well I’d prefer not to have Kit stay,” your mother scoffed. “But heaven forbid I take one without the other.”

Far too excited to acknowledge your mother’s snide remark, you rushed to wrap your arms around her, expressions of gratitude flying from your lips. She stiffened at your touch, only obliging with a reluctant pat on your back.

Just when you felt like you were on top of the world, everything came crashing down in a matter of seconds.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior while they’re here, please put in the extra effort to make Airk feel comfortable. In five years’ time, you will be his bride.”

You froze again, the last sentence hitting you like a sledgehammer to a stone wall. Slowly, you removed your arms from her torso, stepping back to meet her gaze. “Pardon?”

“Sorsha and I decided it was time to tell you both,” she explained calmly. “We’ve been arranging this marriage to unite our kingdoms since you were young.”

Confusion, anger, betrayal; a plethora of emotions swarmed you as you stood there, stunned. “You’re telling me this now?”

“Darling, you’re fifteen now, a woman. We didn’t want to scare you when you were children but it’s high time you start to think about the future of Azarenth.”

Realization hit you like a pound of bricks. “That’s why you always put so much emphasis on a relationship with Airk? You were preparing us for marriage?”

“Well I see no reason for such commotion! From what you’ve told me, you and Airk get along quite well. I’m sure you’ll make a fine couple.”

She dismissed you with a wave of her hand before retreating to her bedchamber for the night, leaving you standing there in a puddle of conflicting feelings. On one hand, Airk was pleasant company, and he could make a fine ruler one day. On the other hand, your heart didn’t long for him, and just the thought of you two being expected to produce heirs made you feel ill.

In five years, in five short years, you would be Princess Airk Tanthalos. You closed your eyes, testing out the name once on your lips before running outside and dropping to your knees, emptying your stomach's contents into the street.

That night was spent tossing and turning in bed, fighting off images of a marriage to Airk before they overpowered you, transforming into a nightmare as you slipped into slumber.

You were walking through the Tir Asleen gardens with Kit, picking bouquets of flowers and laughing at nothing but your own contagious joy. Just when you were almost done arranging your flowers, she seized your hand without warning, forcing you to drop your bouquet and pulling you away from the garden.

“Kit! Where are we going?” You chuckled, but never received an answer.

Instead, she pulled you into the doors of the castle and led you through every room. Each room seemed to stretch on forever, the exit nothing more than an optical illusion. With every new step, Kit moved faster until you were practically chasing after her, each breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet slapped against the cold stone floor.

Finally, Kit led you back outside, where you seemed to have spent so long in the castle that the sky was now a dark black with no moon in sight. She continued to pull you until you stood in front of the garden once again, where she slowed her pace before pausing at the entrance. This time, instead of the garden being filled with fragrant flowers and low-hanging trees, it was furnished to look like a wedding ceremony, with Airk standing at the end of the aisle. All of the guests turned in their chairs, staring at you with stone-like expressions.

You looked down and found that your everyday clothing had been replaced with an extravagant wedding gown. “Kit,” you whispered, squeezing her hand. “Why have you brought me here?”

Kit turned to look at you, leaving you horrified as her face morphed into that of your mother’s. Her demeanor remained still and frosty as she dropped your hand like a forgotten promise.

“The future is upon us, Princess Airk Tanthalos.”

You shot up in bed, gasping for breath as your heart raced. Pressing a hand to your chest, you inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to calm down. The window facing outside showed the sky still an impenetrable black, clear and streaked with twinkling stars. You groaned, flopping back onto your mattress as you reluctantly prepared for the remainder of a restless night.

You practically sleepwalked through the next morning, the dark circles under your eyes hanging like crescent moons in the night sky. After grunting a barely perceptible greeting to your parents, you took your seat at the breakfast table and started on the meal the chefs had prepared for you. Each bite tasted like gray mush. You chewed mechanically, feeling as if your emotions were so dulled that even your taste buds were affected.

Silence filled the breakfast table as everyone noticed you weren’t your usual chipper self. Even your father noticed something was off and attempted to speak before your mother shot him an icy glare, placing her hand over his as an unspoken warning.

Before you even had time to pass out onto your plate, the familiar clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage sounded from outside, signaling the twins' arrival. You stood up, trailing behind your parents as you stepped outside to greet your guests.

A creamy white horse stood just outside the castle entrance, attached to a rugged coachman steering a wooden carriage. Airk was the first to step out, shaking out his chestnut curls and smoothing the fabric of his thin tunic. The morning sun reflected off his green eyes, making them look like two polished emeralds.

Although you weren’t attracted to him, you had to admit, he had grown into a handsome lad. You began to wonder if there was a chance that marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, that maybe you could make it work, and learn to live somewhat content.

But then Kit stepped out of the carriage, and the very thought of marrying her brother became distasteful again. She was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes only accentuated her lack of color. Her clothing was loose, wrinkly, and her barely chin-length tresses were dyed black with an indigo plant.

To anyone else, she appeared as a tired mess, a pathetic excuse for a princess. But when you gazed upon her, all you saw was Kit. Your Kit. The girl you grew up with and simultaneously never saw, the one person who meant more to you than anyone else.

Your mother rushed to meet Airk, presenting a perfect curtsy and gushing over how handsome he’d gotten. To Kit, she offered nothing more than a brief nod and a stiff grin.

“Welcome to Azarenth, you two,” she greeted. “I trust you’ll feel right at home here.”

With that, she turned on her heel, marching back into the castle and leaving you to attend to your guests. You never really liked having your mother around; her chilly demeanor often irritating you to the point of submerging yourself into daydreams where you could run away, free from her parental confines. But now, as she walked away and you watched her figure grow smaller, you wanted nothing more than for her to return. Even if it was to make a snide comment, you would take anything to alleviate the tension that now floated between you and the twins.

Airk took a step towards you, clearing his throat and hiding his hands behind his back. “Happy birthday, Princess.”

You smiled in return, curtsying politely. The two of you stood there, silently staring at each other, the weight of what you both now knew settling between you.

“Yes, happy birthday, Princess.” Kit sneered, stomping over and offering an exaggerated curtsy.

Your smile faltered. “No need to be so formal.”

Kit scowled at you, her blue eyes, once bright oceans now beady cesspools filled with contempt. “Oh forgive me, your highness! I had no intention of offending her majesty, the future ruler of Tir Asleen!”

She scoffed, shaking her head and storming past you into the castle doors. Airk mumbled a quick apology on her behalf before following after her, leaving you outside, alone, caught in a whirlpool of heartache.

The rest of the day remained as tense as how it started. Kit had holed herself up in her designated guest room, so you were stuck with Airk. For the most part, you tried to avoid each other, save for occasionally crossing paths in the hallways and stuttering immediate apologies. When the kitchen maid rang the dinner bell, you reluctantly trudged to the dining room, dragging your feet all the way there to postpone interaction as much as possible.

Your mother eyed you critically as you were the last to take your seat at the table. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

Pursing your lips out of disdain, you glanced over at Airk. He met your gaze, making accidental eye contact for a brief second before looking down and pretending to be transfixed by his supper. Your eyes traveled across the table to a seat left empty, Kit’s noticeable absence leaving a pang in your chest.

Sounds of silverware scratching against ceramic dishes filled the room as the four of you ate in silence. You and Airk kept your heads down, refusing to look up from your plates while your parents exchanged glances from across the table. Once finished, you pushed your plate away and requested to be excused, leaving without waiting for a response.

Grabbing your shawl off a nearby hook, you walked briskly out of the castle. The cold December air pricked against your skin as you hugged your shawl closer to you. Azarenth typically had a warmer climate with very few opportunities for cold weather, but something about this night felt especially frosty, enough for a handful of snowflakes to lazily drift down from the night sky.

You retreated to a small courtyard away from the main thoroughfares, a secluded area complete with a center fountain you often used as a refuge. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you stared at your reflection in the water, your mirrored image looking just as tired and stressed as it had that morning. You groaned, splashing away your likeness before immediately pulling your hand back, shocked by the iciness of the water.

As you sat alone with your thoughts, the sound of footsteps approached. You turned your head to see Airk at the entrance, pausing as soon as you met his gaze. He looked sheepish, his hands hiding behind his back as he nervously shuffled his feet.

“Your father told me I might find you here,” he spoke softly, answering the question you never asked.

You didn’t respond, so he moved towards you, taking a seat beside you on the edge of the fountain. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring at your feet while you listened to the gentle roar of the water behind you.

“Your parents informed you of the arrangement, I imagine.” He said in a low voice, addressing the elephant in the room.

You sighed deeply, nodding your head in response. “I feel so betrayed.”

Airk raised his eyebrows.

“Not because you’d make a terrible spouse!” You quickly backtracked. “I just… I feel so…”

“Caught off guard?” Airk interrupted.

You nodded. His assumption was only half-true, but true nonetheless.

Airk puffed out his cheeks, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully. “Well, perhaps we could… test it out? See what it’s like?”

You eyed him with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

“Married life,” he clarified. “Perhaps we could… try some of the things married people do? Just to see how it feels?”

Your eyes widened as you leaned back in shock. “I’m not doing that!” You crossed your arms over your chest and drew inward, suddenly feeling very exposed despite being fully dressed.

“No, no! I would never ask you to do that!” Airk sputtered, vigorously shaking his head.

You sighed in relief. Airk laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm his nerves.

“No, certainly not. I…” he cleared his throat. “…was truly suggesting we… try a kiss? Surely, married couples kiss. Perhaps we could just see how it feels?”

You glanced at his lips and contemplated his proposal. He had a point. “Yes.”

“Are you certain?” Airk’s eyes widened in surprise.

You nodded. “Well, we’ll be expected to kiss at our wedding anyway. May be convenient to remove the element of surprise.”

Airk positioned himself to face you. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“I haven’t either,” you lied, thinking back to the innocent kisses you shared with Kit as children. Despite her spicy personality, she had always tasted so sweet. You wondered if Airk would taste just as sweet.

Before you knew it, Airk had leaned in and connected his mouth to yours. His lips were wet, soaked with spit, and his coarse stubble scratched at your chin. He didn’t taste sweet; he barely tasted like anything at all. There was no buzzing in your ears, nor bursts of warmth in your chest, just two mouths collided in a dispassionate exchange.

When Airk pulled away, you felt like crying. He stared at you expectantly. “Was that alright?”

You stared back at him, trying to suppress the nauseous feeling in your stomach. As he waited for your response, all you could think about was how different it was from kissing Kit, how you had never longed for him in the same way, and if you were arranged to marry his sister instead of him, would you be as upset?

Your mind raced with memories of Kit: stolen kisses behind trees, late night sneakaways, sharing secrets under covers. You thought back to when Kit introduced you to lewd literature, remembering how those pictures of women made you feel. Realization hit you like a punch in the gut, causing you to clutch your stomach and audibly gag.

Airk frowned. “Was it not?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I have to go.”

You stood up and practically fled from the courtyard, leaving Airk to sit alone, his face crumpled with hurt and immersed in a flood of confusion.

Frigid winds whipped your tear-stained face as you dashed through the outskirts of the castle, your footsteps echoing against the pavement. Your mind raced, a mixture of flashbacks and fear swarming this newfound epiphany. When you reached the castle entrance, you burst through the doors, darting past your parents and ignoring the questions they fired at you.

You had to find her. You needed to speak with her.

Rushing up the stairs, you ran through the corridors, past your own bedchamber, and paused in front of another. You doubled over, resting your hands on your knees in an attempt to catch your breath, heart pounding like a stampede of wild horses.

Finally somewhat calm, you stood straight, gazing not at the door, but at the nothingness that stood between you and it. With a deep breath, you disregarded all knowledge of basic etiquette and threw open the door, not bothering to knock.

“Kit!” You cried.

Startled, Kit whipped around to face the door, not expecting visitors. Upon seeing you, her face darkened. “Oh, you again. What have you come here for?”

“Kit, please, I need to talk to you…”

“Why?” Kit interrupted. “Because you need help planning your wedding? Are you here to boast about marrying my brother? How you’re going to live happily-ever-after and have hundreds of children? Would you like name suggestions?”

“You don’t understand…” you tried to swallow the lump growing in your throat. “I can’t marry Airk.”

Kit seemed taken aback by your admittance, but her demeanor quickly hardened again. “I hadn’t realized the Tanthalos blood wasn’t good enough for you.”

“That is not the reason…”

“My apologies, your highness!” Kit exclaimed, each word dripping with venom. “I shouldn’t have assumed you would want to be the future Queen of Tir Asleen! Our lowly kingdom must not meet your impossibly high standards!”

“Would you listen to me?!” You smacked her arm, unable to stop angry tears from streaming down your face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Kit flinched upon contact, but her hostility remained unyielding. Still, she crossed her arms over her chest and squinted, waiting for your explanation.

You sniffed, choking back a sob. “Airk kissed me.”

Kit’s expression barely shifted, but her eyes momentarily flickered with confusion. “Your fiancé kissed you? How distressing.”

“You don’t understand…” you drew inward as you stared at the floor, avoiding her piercing stare. “I hated it.”

You saw Kit’s arms drop to her sides out of your peripheral vision, body language softening slightly. She took a step towards you, and you squeezed your eyes tight.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to marry Airk,” you repeated, finally looking up at her. “I don’t think I want to marry any prince.”

You took a seat on the edge of her bed and wiped your tear-stricken face. Kit stood stunned for a moment before moving to your side, placing a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Do you think you might be a…?”

The word you’d both been raised to believe was dirty sat unspoken on her lips: sapphic.

You nodded, ashamed. The idea of a woman being attracted to other women was extremely frowned upon, especially for someone of nobility like yourself. But as you sank into Kit’s touch, societal expectations no longer seemed so scary. She always did make you feel safe.

“What am I going to do?” You wondered out loud, not exactly expecting an answer. Kit pulled you in closer, staring at you with unblinking eyes. You met her gaze.

“Kit, I…”

And suddenly her mouth was on yours, taking you by surprise and making you jump. She pulled back in fear, searching your face for any sign of resistance.

“I… I’m sorry…” she sputtered. “I must have misread something…”

Not wanting her to finish that sentence, you grabbed her face and kissed her ferociously, this time taking her by surprise. She gasped against your mouth, but soon returned the kiss with as much passion as you had given.

Kissing Kit was nothing like kissing Airk. Her lips weren’t wet; they were perfectly moist, and her skin was smooth against yours. That familiar grape-juice taste from when you were kids had aged gracefully along with her, now bursting with the flavors of sweet wine. Neither of you were very experienced kissers, but it wasn’t awkward like it was with Airk; there was no clumsy collision, just two mouths exploring each other in an act of tender intimacy.

Kit picked up her movements, kissing you hungrily with a passion that almost bordered on desperation. She grabbed at your waist, pushing you down on the bed until she hovered over you. You moaned at the unexpected feeling of your head against the soft mattress, and that was all the reassurance Kit needed to keep going. She placed a hand on your stomach and started to untie the laces of your corset, moving at a snail's pace in case you were to oppose. When you didn't, she removed the restrictive garment and inched her fingers up your blouse. You gasped at the feeling of her skin against yours, but when she pulled away to check in, you immediately brought her back to you, not wanting her to stop for anything.

You writhed underneath her as she explored the skin underneath your blouse. Longing coursed through your veins, each brush of her fingertips feeling like the warmth of a thousand suns. When she grazed her thumb across a particularly sensitive area, you moaned into her mouth, lifting your hips and pressing your core into her body. She shivered under the newfound contact, pulling away and looking down at you with apprehension.

“I’ve never really done anything like this before,” she admitted.

“P-pardon?” You sputtered through labored breaths, your body craving her in a way it had never craved anyone before.

“This…” she gestured at both of your bodies. “…is all new to me.”

“Likewise,” you whispered before leaning in to reassure her with a gentle kiss. “We don’t have to do anything more than this tonight. I promise I’m enjoying myself.”

Kit seemed to relax. “Would that be alright?”

“Truly,” you replied, because it was. It was more than alright. It was perfect.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @love4lyn @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sophi4v13

#kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos fanfiction #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos x reader smut #ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz x you #ruby cruz fanfiction #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x reader smut #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x you #willow #willow 2022 #fanfic #airk tanthalos #writing #sapphic #lesbian #forced marriage #coming of age #fiction #smut #reader smut #steamy #series

[only-luce-the-goose]

Hiii pookie 🫶🥹

it's me again the same anon from Arthur's long fic 😂 i thought it would be nice to thank you again for fulfilling the request, they were all absolutely beautiful and I enjoyed them a lot✨,now proclaimed you one of my favorite Arthur writers ✨🥹🫶

i used to want an Arthur in my life now I NEED him 😭

Also today my mood was so bad but reading the fic distracted me a little from everyday things, thank you once again i send you a hug and kisses 🫶😚🫂💗💗

I hope you have the best days, always and forever !!!🙂‍↕️love ya boo💗

(if you didn't get enough of me, I promise that if I have any more ideas I will let you know so you can use them with your writings about other pilots)

A Bit Off

A/N: Hi Anon!!!!!

I’m so, so happy you enjoyed them and I feel privileged to be your favourite Arthur writer 🥰🥰. I’m thinking I might start writing for other drivers as well.

I swear I need an Arthur in my life too 😫. I’m sorry you weren’t feeling too well today, I’m glad my writing was able to help you feel better! 😘

And I will never get enough of you, message as much as you want!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I’ve currently got another Arthur fic and an Ollie Bearman fic in the works. I just wanted to write this little one as thank you for your kind words and requests. It’s also kind of based off how you felt today, enjoy ☺️

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Synopsis: After a bad day, Arthur just wants to make you feel all better

(He’s such a cute, lil smiley boyyyyy 😍)

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you felt down and depressed all day for no reason. Unfortunately, Arthur wasn’t around and wouldn’t be back for another 3 days. All you wanted to do was cuddle up and watch movies with him.

You stayed on the couch, drowning in your favourite hoodie of Arthur’s, watching your comfort tv show. You heard the door at the front of the apartment unlock, keys jangling as the door was pushed open. You pulled the baseball bat out from under the couch and crept over to the wall next to the hallway.

You heard shoes being toed off, sock padded feet slowly walking down the hallways. You waited for the footsteps to come closer before you stepped out from the wall. You swung the bat.

“OHHH HOLY SHIT BABY ITS ME” Arthur screamed in his Monegasque accent. You immediately dropped the bat, “oh my god, Arty! You’re not suppose to be here for 3 days!” Arthur smirked when he said “I know. I wanted to surprise you, gorgeous”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you buried yourself in your boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your nose pressing against his jugular as you deeply inhaled his cologne. Arthur’s hands firmly wrapped around your waist, he kissed your temple and leaned his head against yours.

He felt teardrops on his collarbone, prompting him to let go for a second. He found you with wet eyes, teardrop stains down your cheeks. “Bèbè, what’s wrong?” Arthur pouted. He raised his hand and wiped your tears. You made eye contact with him and the flood gates opened.

You weren’t sad about anything in particular, you just started babbling about anything and everything. Arthur guided you to the couch and sat down, pulling you on top of him and he laid down. Your legs ended up in either side of his body, your chin rested on his chest, your noses nearly bumping.

Arthur let you get it all out, contently listening. After you finished, Arthur extended his neck and pecked your lips. “It’s ok to feel like this, love” you kissed him again “thank you Arty” you had cried yourself to exhaustion, he could see your eyes started to droop. He pulled the couch blanket over you both as he watched you fall asleep.

“Good night, my love” he said as he kissed your nose, “I love you, bad day or good day, I don’t care.” You lazily smile and confessed “I love you” back to him, drifting off to sleep. Arthur followed you not long after.

#arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader fluff #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #f2

[appleblueberry-pie]

There aren't many Yandere Nanami requests, so I came up with one. How would you react if the reader was a second year student at Jujutsu school, was a beautiful and intelligent woman, and had one of the most powerful rituals in her clan? Maybe she would have tried to get closer, but she didn't count on the fact that she turned out to be Gojo Satoru's girlfriend (this would be set in her teenage years to be precise).

Kento was a little nervous. No, he was extremely nervous and even anxious. He couldn't eat this morning or even eat lunch. He knew he was going to confess to you today. Kento has a hard time with hiding things from people he admires and are close with. So, it's about time to tell you about how he truly feels, knowing it's been clawing at him to finally tell you the truth behind his actions.

The only reason he was regretting this moment and how it can end is because you never seemed fully receptive in his gift giving. He always got you your favorite juice boxes from the vending machines and even bought you lunch a handful of times when you didn't have one. But you always seemed.....he doesn't want to assume, but it kind of feels half-assed when you say you genuinely are grateful for his gifts and his efforts to get to know you better.

But nonetheless, he will tell you today how he truly feels. Right now. As he sits next to you and fiddles with his fingers as you wait for him to spit it out.

"Yes.....um....Y/n, I have to tell you something very important that I feel you deserve to know." You nod and scoot closer, thinking something bad happened, especially with how his voice was shaking and he was almost sweating. "I-...........I have had a romantic interest in you for quite some time now."

He watched your face drop as if you had seen a ghost. You seemed to almost lean away from him when you sat up straighter at his words. His heart dropped at your reaction and his stomach began twisting and turning when your lips pursed together.

He was gonna puke. He can't say anything else knowing you definitely didn't feel the same way. That reaction told him everything he needs to know. He can't even look at you anymore and this silence was giving him a heart attack. God, just say something so he doesn't do something stupid. "Nanami...." You just said his last name instead of his first. What has he done?

"You know I'm dating Satoru, right?"

Would he be crazy for trying to act like he didn't know this? "I......."

You brought your hand to his shoulder, as if you were comforting a child, and suddenly, he felt like a disgusting little kid. He never deserved you. But knowing you will always be had the hands of his terrible classmate will continue to make his heart burn in rage. All he wanted was you, and he can't because he was too late. He can't even prove a point. Not when he was weaker than you. Not when he can't protect you and Gojo can. Not when he was a pathetic little boy holding onto a broken dream to finally have the girl that was meant for him.

'Don't be sorry for me. Don't look at me like that, and please don't tell me that disgusting truth all over again. I see it every day.' He wishes he could say that out loud, but the last thing he wants to do is break your beautiful heart. He wants to hug you, but it would never feel the same as it used to, and all he wants now is for things to be how they used to.

All this does is piss him off even more. He will find a way to have you. If he has to meet your family himself, find a way to kill Gojo Satoru, steal him from you, find a way to meet your strength to show you what devotion means, find a way into your mind to make you see the truth and what will always remain true between him and you, then he'll take his sweet time to get to where he needs to be to make that happen. He will always be yours and you won't know it until he can show you. Until then, he'll take this slap to the face.

i feel so fucking bad for him in this oh my god

#yandere nanami kento #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere kento #yandere nanami x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader #yandere character #yandere x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader

[waldau]

Saw your are open for requests, since you write wonwoo soooo soooo well, maybe a little drabble or headcanon about reader and wonwoo first time sleeping (not having sex, just purely fluff cuddle and sleep) together would be good in this rainy season here in my tropical country.

Btw SEATED for the longer fics😁

cuddles — jeon wonwoo | 1,450 words | fluff

TROPICAL COUNTRY ANON MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES I STILL HOPE IT'S RAINING WHERE YOU ARE. i love the rains and i'm sorry i didn't get inspired in time to write something that i like, but i really hope you see this!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is a bit unsettled by the sound of thunder (not actually self-projection for once).

“do you have to go?” wonwoo asks as you search for the remote to pause the movie, credits rolling on the screen.

you stare at him, trying to come up with a response. more specifically, you’re wondering if he’s implying what you think he’s implying. “i mean…isn’t it late? and don’t i always leave around this time?”

“you do,” he says, leaning over you to take out the remote that’s wedged between two cushions, and you swear your heart skips a beat. “but you could change that.”

“are you…asking…”

“it’s raining, too,” he says, a hopeful smile on his face. “if you really want to leave, i can drop you home, but i think i’d really like it if you…stayed.”

and that’s how you find yourself by wonwoo’s side in his bathroom, holding a spare toothbrush he handed you as he brushes his teeth. you’re vaguely aware that toothpaste is dripping down your brush and onto your hand as you watch him through the mirror, while also considering the fact that is way too domestic to be doing with someone you’ve been dating for two months.

but you can’t stop thinking about how…soft he looks. his hair is wept back from his forehead, no longer neatly styled like it had been earlier in the day, but still making him look very handsome. he’s wearing an oversized hoodie with sweatpants. you can’t help but wonder what you’ll look like, wearing it.

the thought immediately flusters you so much that you look anywhere but at him, and yet you can see him glance at you through the mirror now.

“want to tell me what you were thinking about?”

you refuse to grace his question with an answer and hurry up with your routine, skin feeling a bit cooler when you’re done washing your face. you pat it dry with the towel wonwoo’s given you, and when you turn around, there’s a shirt and a pair of sweatpants sitting on the counter.

even though it’s just basic decency, making sure you don’t go to sleep in your jeans tonight, it’s still thrilling to see his clothes being perfectly oversized on you. you step out of the bathroom a bit nervously, not having heard any sound from him in the past minute. but wonwoo’s lying on the bed, looking at his phone. when he sees you, there’s a smile on his face. he rolls to his side and watches you shut the door and come over to where he’s resting.

“what is it?” you ask, a little self-conscious. you’re not yet used to the — for lack of a better word — adoring gazes he gives you whenever he sees you. he’s verbal with his affection, too, always letting you know how good he thinks you look, or how happy he is that you’re spending your time with him, but he’s even better with his actions. which is what makes you think this is one of those moments.

“nothing,” he says, putting his phone on the stand.

“then why were you looking at me like that?” you ask, sitting down on the bed and swinging your legs over so that you’re comfortably settled.

“you just…you look really good in my clothes.”

it takes everything in you not to turn and hide your face in the pillow at that. you’re still not used to how blunt he is, and how he means every word he says to you. you’d known this about him before you started dating him, but now that you’re actually dating him, you’re getting to see a side of him you didn’t know existed.

“yeah? maybe i should wear your hoodie, then,” you tease instead.

“i hope you do,” he says, putting his glasses away and getting under the covers, motioning for you to do the same. you swear your brain has short-circuited as you get underneath the covers as well. his covers are as warm as the ones you have at home, and you remember he mentioned he runs cold. same as you, then.

you lie there for a minute or two, getting used to each other’s proximity, before wonwoo speaks up.

“tell me if this is okay,” he says, before inching closer and resting a large hand on your stomach. you can feel your breath catch as his hand inches its way around your waist and pulls you a bit closer. “sweetheart?”

“mhm? i’m fine.” you are fine, but your poor heart isn’t.

“good. i don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to.”

as much as you appreciate how respectful he’s being, part of you wishes he was a bit less cautious. you’re okay with him. you trust him, and he knows it.

“i’m not made of glass, wonwoo,” you say, looking up at him from where you’re resting.

wonwoo takes in a breath and then pulls you into himself, letting your head rest on his chest. it’s only then that you realize his heart is beating fast, probably as fast as yours.

“wonwoo?”

“mm?”

“are you nervous right now?”

“how couldn’t i be? i have such a pretty person in my arms.”

you actually gasp and smack his chest at that. he only laughs — that deep, rumble-like laugh that made you like him so much. “aren’t we supposed to be sleeping? trying to, at least?”

“i’m finding it hard to sleep with you here.”

“…oh,” you say, happiness deflating a bit. “see, i told you—”

“no!” he exclaims, scrambling away enough to look you in the eyes. “i meant— i want to keep talking to you, but i also want to sleep, and it’s unlucky that we can’t do both at the same time.”

your heart flutters at that. “that’s…i wish we could do that, too.”

“good,” he says, settling back down. “then that’s what we’re going to do.” he adjusts the covers so that you’re resting comfortably. you do want to keep the conversation going, but wonwoo is perfectly warm, and the rain outside sounds like pleasant white noise that is lulling you deeper into tiredness.

“do you like the rain?” you ask, hand resting on his chest, gently tracing abstract patterns. like the ones you doodle when you’re on phone calls with him.

when he doesn’t reply for a while, you think you’ve spoken too softly, but then you feel the rumble in his chest as he speaks. “i do. i love how green it gets outside. and i love how it smells, too.”

you want to say the same, but a sudden boom of thunder makes you freeze and grip his hoodie rather tightly.

“sweetheart?” wonwoo asks instantly, concern palpable in his voice. “are you okay?”

“it’s nothing,” you say, but even you know it’s a lie when you don’t let go of the death grip you have on his hoodie.

it’s not even lightning. it’s somewhat of a stupid thing to be afraid of, yet you can’t help but feel helpless when the thunder booms again, louder than it did the first time.

“is it…the thunder? the sound of it? i promise i won’t judge you, sweetheart.”

you sigh. “it’s just…i’m not very fond of thunder. i don’t like how loud it gets. i’m not scared, really, i just don’t like the way it…”

“startles you?”

you nod, not wanting to look at him. you wonder what he’s thinking.

“that’s perfectly fine,” wonwoo says, voice soft as he pulls you closer into himself till his arms engulf your upper body and you’re surrounded only by him and his calm breathing, his warmth that’s currently your anchor. “i used to be scared of dogs because i got bitten once. but i’ve got seol now. you’ve seen her, haven’t you?”

you have. wonwoo’s shown you pictures of his dog back home, and she’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen.

“you’re not any weaker for not liking thunderstorms, you know. everyone has their thing. don’t worry about it when you’re with me. i can’t make it go away, but i can make sure you’re not too scared, okay?”

“are you always this romantic?”

you can feel more than hear wonwoo’s chuckle as it rumbles through his chest. you’ve never felt as safe as you do now, in a thunderstorm. you burrow yourself more into his hold, loving how his arm comes to wrap around your waist.

“sleep well,” he says.

“i—” love you, you want to say, but the words catch in your throat. you mean them with your entirety, even if they might be a bit premature. “you too. i’m so glad i’m here,” you say instead, leaning up to peck his cheek.

wonwoo kisses your head, arm tightening around you. “i’m so glad you’re here, too.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched

@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

#holiday helped me so good i wrote three fics in three days already #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #established relationship #domestic au #waldau writes #req

[todorokis-girl]

Healing together - Iwazumi Hajime x f!reader

Iwazumi is late one night, his girlfriend has to work through some fear from a previous relationship.

masterlist

Hajime Iwaizumi walked through the front door of his apartment, shoulders heavy with the fatigue of a long day. The soft click of the door shutting behind him felt like the closing of a chapter—an echo of every late night he'd spent at the gym, guiding athletes through rigorous routines and injuries. His passion for his job as an athletic trainer drove him to stay late often, but tonight, a twinge of guilt gnawed at his gut.

"Y/N? I'm home," he called, kicking off his shoes and setting his bag down. The apartment was dimly lit, a warm glow emanating from the living room where he knew she'd be. The silence that met him was unusual. Normally, Y/N would greet him with a tired smile, no matter how late he came back.

As he walked further into the apartment, he found Y/N curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with a familiar, unsettling mix of relief and anxiety.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," he replied, sitting down beside her. "I'm sorry I'm late. We had a few injuries today that took longer than expected."

She nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I know. It's just… you were later than usual, and I got worried."

Iwaizumi reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "I'm really sorry. I should have called or texted. I didn't mean to make you worry."

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers curling around his. "It's not just that. I trust you, Hajime, I really do. It's just… my past. Sometimes it creeps up on me, and I can't help but feel anxious when you're not here."

Iwaizumi's heart ached at her words. He knew about her previous relationship, how it had been marred by neglect and emotional turbulence. He had promised himself that he would never be the source of her pain.

"I understand," he said softly, squeezing her hand. "And I want you to know that I'm here for you. Always. I’ll do better at keeping you updated. Your peace of mind means everything to me."

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you. I know it's not fair to put this on you, but sometimes it's hard to shake off those old fears."

"Hey," he said, lifting her chin gently so their eyes met. "It's not about fairness. It's about us. We’re a team, right? Just like in volleyball, we support each other, on and off the court."

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she leaned into his touch. "Right. We're a team."

He pulled her into a comforting embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into her. They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them filled with unspoken understanding and love.

As they pulled apart, Iwaizumi brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "How about we order some takeout from that 24 hour Chinese and watch a movie? Something light, we can stay in tomorrow"

"Don't you have work tomorrow?"

he smiles and runs a hand through her hair "No, I don't, clocking out late all week drove me over the hours"

Y/N’s smile grew, a real one this time, reaching her eyes. "then yes, I'd like that."

They spent the rest of the evening nestled together on the couch, sharing laughter and quiet moments of contentment. Iwaizumi’s heart swelled with a deep, abiding love for the woman beside him. He knew that healing took time, and he was ready to walk that path with her, step by step.

In the warmth of their home, they found solace in each other, and as the night wore on, the shadows of the past faded, replaced by the promise of a brighter, more secure future. Together, they would face whatever came their way, knowing that they had each other’s backs—always.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fanfiction #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #athletic trainer iwaizumi #comfort fanfic #angst to comfort #hurt comfort #fluff #fanfiction #anime fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #healing together #emotional support #relationship anxiety #aoba johsai

[muxshwriting]

come to bed

Aleksander Morozova x reader

summary: you always work so hard for Ravka, your husband only wishes to reward you for such hard work || warnings: SMUT, I say again SMUT, PinV, unprotected sex (stay safe), slight aftercare, fluff || word count: 982 || masterlist

REQUESTED: would love love LOVE a soft/supportive/proud Darkling x Reader! Like, reader has had a long stressful day, and he’s really proud of the work she’s done and the strong person she is and ahhh! Make it as smutty as you feel comfortable!

The work seemed to last forever, piles upon piles of never-ending paperwork. You didn't even notice the sun slipping below the horizon, the room now only lit by candles. When you finally lift you head to glance at the grandfather clock, it reads 11:11, far later into the night than you intended.

Aleksander slipped through the door, leaning against the doorway watching you work. He was wrapped in a night robe, having readied himself for bed. But Aleksander couldn't sleep without you anymore. You had held him close every night, steadying his heartbeat and calming his turbulent dreams. He was so lucky to call you his, to come home every night to your shared bed and make everything alright. He was often the one slipping into bed late at night, working well towards midnight on war plans, committee hearings and requests from the crown. Nights like these were rare, you staying up late, engrossed in work.

Gently, he cleared his throat, alerting you to his presence. You finally look up from your papers, an unstoppable smile covering your features. He makes his way through the room, pulling you from your chair and into his arms, holding you close. His hands press into your shoulders and you lean your weight onto him, finally relaxing.

“I love you.” The confession is whispered into your neck, matched with kisses pressed into your skin. “Come to bed.” He's so gentle with you, showing you nothing but devotion.

You sigh slightly, head dropping to your chest. “Aleksander- There's work to do. I can't-“

“You've done enough milaya.” He whispered back. “Ravka can have you again in the morning, but can I have you now?”

As you turn to meet his gaze, there’s a glint of hunger simmering in his eyes. “Well,” you never could say no to his perfect face. “I suppose Ravka can wait…”

With a cheeky grin, Aleksander lifts you off your feet, gently tossing you over his shoulder and carrying out of your study. Your shared laughter echoes through the empty corridors as you playfully swat at Aleks’s back. He throws you down onto the bed, crawling on after you. You raise your head to meet his in a heated kiss and all breath exits your body.

He pulls back, eyes blown with lust. “Are you sure?”

“Get back here.”

That's all the prerogative he needs to kiss you even harder as your fingers work under his shirt to trail his marble skin. He breaks your kiss to breathe, pulling his night shirt over his head and throwing it across the room. A lazy smile covered his lips, able to completely relax with you by his side. He crawled back toward you, straining his neck so that your lips could join onto his.

His hands trail down your body, hugging your sides and coming to a rest on your hips. It’s a gentle weight, a reminder that he’s there, that he loves you. He whispers those precious words, just to make sure. You sink into the feeling, the warming glow he provides. The hunger inside you grows, the warmth becoming a fire you don’t want to put out.

“Please…”

“Please?” He whispers back, careful not to disturb the night. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you.”

Your breath quivers as you stare into his eyes, growing erratic as his hand slips lower. His fingers finally dip into your folds, pressing into you one at a time. Your yearning for his touch even though you have it. It’s not enough. You just need him.

“Sasha… I need you.”

The words got stuck in his throat as he looked down at you. There were no words to describe you, nothing that could convey the perfection Aleksander saw. His breath stuttered as he surged forward. His lips tugged at yours, tongue slipping inside as he removed his fingers.

You whine at the loss, words stuck in your throat, only coming out as broken sobs of begging. Your legs hook together behind his back, pulling him closer until he finally enters you. It's perfect, like it always is. Him, pushing up against the gummy spot in your walls, sending jolts of pleasure up and down your spine.

Your legs part as he falls between them, fitting like he had always belonged. Your walls clenched around him, breath hitching as he moves. His fingers trail across to interlace with yours as he coaxed more and more noises from your lips.

He wasn’t quiet either, his pleasure audible as he thrust his hips into yours. They were sinful to listen to, only bringing you closer to the edge you were hurtling towards. You could feel it growing with every thrust, every brush of your g-spot.

“I’m gonna-“

“Hold on.” Aleksander grunts out. “Hold on milaya, I’m almost there…”

Your back arches as pleasure ricochets through your body. His name is the only word you can utter, coming out as whines and moans you can’t control. Aleksander’s lips connect with the junction between your shoulder and your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the skin there as he whispers praises and sweet nothings.

His words tip you over the edge, sending you into a blinding pleasure that doesn’t seem to end. Your vision goes black, only hearing your heartbeat thumping in your ears and feel Aleksander emptying himself inside you.

You’re not sure if you passed out or was so taken by pleasure but hence you come back to Aleksander is gently wiping a cloth between your legs, pressing kisses to each of your thighs.

“Aleks-“

He pauses to look up at you, a contagious smile covering his face. “Yes milaya?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He says it back proudly, because he is proud of you. You are everything and more than he deserves every single day and he will forever remind you until you believe it too.

a/n: my first request!! hope you enjoyed! Also, my first time writing smut so please don’t hate me if it’s bad. Let me know if you want more stuff like this or send me a request yourself! also, happy pride!

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #darkling x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #muxsh #muxshwriting

[moody-alcoholic]

Freaky Friday

It's Friday, I want to improve my writing and get out of my comfort zone more so I write smut once a week.

+18 MDNI!! You know the drill lucky for you there is always a SFW version.

SFW version.

Masterlist <- check for previous weeks.

Summary: Simon x OC, established relationship. 900 words.

Enjoy ya filthy animals <3

“Like my dress?” I asked playfully hitching up the bottom and waving it. I slowly walked towards him looking in his eyes. I touched his mask. I wanted to kiss him so bad. He wrapped one of his arms round my waist and used the other to pull up his mask. I didn’t even wait for him to finish I just kissed him. He threw his mask to the side and picked me up in his arms carrying me to the bed. He laid me down kissing my neck.

“Simon,” I gasped, all I could feel was my own hot body sticky with sweat. He moved back up kissing my lips.

“I’ve missed you.” He said. I looked at him.

“I’ve missed you too,” I said smiling. “I need a shower and we’re not alone.” Shot a look at the door. He moved my chin forcing me to look at him and kissed me again deep, passionate, sloppy. His hand finds its way up my dress tugging on the waistband of my underwear.

“I don’t care.” He said. Jesus that sent tingles through my whole body. Before I could register what was happening he slipped 2 fingers under my underwear, gliding them over my entrance as I gripped his shoulders. I pulled him closer to me breathing him in but all I could smell was my own body. He pulled away and went over to the bedroom door locking it. Then came back and held his hand out so I was forced to follow him, he lead me into an en-suite bathroom, the whole place was rustic, decorated with traditional tiling. Simon guided me to the shower taking off my dress, his hands cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples. I helped him undress too as I turned the shower on cooling the room.

Simon was bent down running his mouth up and down my neck, leaving little kisses everywhere. Eventually his arms moved lower as his mouth finds my nipples. I moan feeling tingles rush deep through my body with each lick and suck. I moved back hitting the wall letting water flow over our bodies, cooling me down so I could focus on what he was doing. His fingers moved quicker rubbing little circles round my clit, the feeling making me weak in the knees as he continuously runs his tongue over my nipples.

“I want you.” I say my voice catching in my throat. This feels so good I don’t want him to stop, his lips leave my nipple with an audible pop as he looks up at me and smiles.

“You have me.” He says kissing me. His fingers working faster I spread my legs more for him, trying not to dig my nails in his back so hard. I can’t contain myself panting in his ear as his fingers tease my entrance, using his thumb to keep my clit stimulated. I feel the hot water splashing against my skin as I gripped onto Simon letting him move me. I didn’t think about the mission or where we were, I know we had to be quiet at least. We leave the shower on to help with noise suppression as we fall into bed together.

I lay down as he crawls over me his dog tags clinking with mine, he works his way between my hips I gladly move my legs out the way for him smiling. He reaches down giving his cock a few tugs then pressing it up against my entrance. I almost want to beg him for it, I feel like he can see the desperation in my eyes as he doesn't wait pushing himself into me. I bite the inside of my cheek trying everything in my power not moan as loud as I want feeling a wave of pleasure flow through my body. I find myself moving my hands to my clit as he thrusts. His head drops as he pants into my ears, my body relaxes as I lazily touch myself matching his speed.

I don’t care that it’s plain old missionary, I don’t even care if I cum this feels too good. He grunts as he whispers sweet ‘I love yous’ and mumbles about how much he’s missed this. I’ve missed it too I find myself rubbing faster as he picks up the pace. I grip his back with my free hand. I don’t know what it is about this new speed but it’s hitting all the right spots, now I’m panting in his ears. He kisses my cheek looking down at me, his eyes twinkling as he locks his lips on mine playing with my tongue. I close my eyes enjoying the over stimulation pushing me closer to the edge. I clench down without realising, which only makes his thrusts feel better as I lean my head back letting out a moan. He kisses my extended neck as he speeds up.

“Si..” I manage my voice breaking as I swallow the saliva from our sloppy make-out session. I grip his shoulders with both my hands, my moans becoming louder as waves of pleasure threaten to spill over.

“Come with me baby.” He breathes in my ear. Holy fucking shit, that was it.

“Yes..” I whimper, as I give in. My body trembles as Simon rides me through the orgasm. I feel him come too his thrusts long and deep as his cock pulsates inside me. I catch my breath feeling overstimulated and hot. Simon takes a deep breath in the flops down on the bed next to me. We just lay there for a few seconds both trying to normalise our breathing. I turn to him and smile.

“What?” He asks smiling back.

“It’s too fucking hot.” I say shaking my head as he laughs.

Sorry I missed last week I took a mental break from writing and I really was not feeling it. Take care of yourselves :*

#fanfic #cod #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x oc #simon riley smut #ghost x oc #ghost cod #+18 content #+18 or +adult only #smut